#no I did not zoom in to count all of his pores

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

[yubsie]

Something in the Air

Summary: Hera has her own ways of knowing how Kanan is feeling. Or, five times Kanan's pheromones were a problem and one time they weren't.

Notes: Okay. So this one actually seems like I should explain myself.Victory's Price casually mentioned Hera detecting human pheromones in the middle of a Zoom meeting. This has certain implications. And then Rogue Podron screamed "Fanfic prompt! Yubsie!" in the middle of an episode.Never underestimate my willingness to write fanfiction on a dare.

Rating: T

AO3 Link: Should you prefer

1. Attraction

Hera knew that Kanan was attracted to her when she invited him on board. She thought she knew what she was getting herself into.

She wasn’t quite ready for him being attracted to her when all the air circulated within the ship. Maybe she could improve the filters in the life support system. She hadn’t really thought about human pheromones when she was setting the standard parameters.

The flirting was one thing. It was entertaining enough some days, even if she had far too much work to do

It was the realization that he was still attracted to her when he  wasn’t  flirting that was going to drive her up the wall. They were just supposed to be eating breakfast. The basic porridge accompanied by their vastly different mugs of caf might just be the least sensual meal imaginable.

And yet, every pheromone screamed that he was thinking about her.

She wanted to say something. But what could he do? It wasn’t like he had conscious control over any of this. She could send him to take a shower, but that wouldn’t help for long.

The fact that he wasn’t flirting meant he was trying to avoid turning mealtime into an awkward situation. He couldn’t help that every pore betrayed where his true attention lay right now.

“We’ve got a job today.” Hera took another bite of the porridge. Maybe if she just focused on how incredibly beige the cooked grain was it would get both of them back down to a sensible level.

“What are we looking at?”

“Imperial fuel delivery. Should be enough to keep us flying for a few standard months and still pass on plenty to my contact.” And, of course, the further advantage of making life just a little bit more complicated for the Empire. A delivery that made this much of a difference for them was barely a rounding error to the Empire as a whole, but they were particular about these sorts of things. The local despot would still have some accounting to do for this. It might slow him down a bit.

“We hitting them in orbit?”

Hera shook her head. “We’ll be taking the Phantom down. They’ll be vulnerable in transit.”

In open air. She hadn’t planned it for this reason, but she was going to take advantage. Set the scrubbers to run an extra cycle

2. Discomfort

There weren’t many good places for a clandestine meeting on this planet—none of their usual seedy cantinas or crowded marketplaces. The spaceport wasn’t the bustling sort of place where they could do a drop in passing.

But the Empire did so like building its museums. They had a vested interest in spreading around their particular version of history. The local populace was encouraged to visit to learn the splendor of their overlords. And conveniently enough for people who were barely scraping by as a very small rebel cell, admission was free of charge for all to come learn.

She didn’t need to pick up the pheromones to know that Kanan was uncomfortable. She’d done her best to arrange the meeting as far from any Empire Day-related exhibits as she could but... it wasn’t that big a museum. He hadn’t said much when the date crept by last month, but it troubled him enough to know this was a bad idea. Who in the galaxy didn’t have their share of scars if they were old enough to remember that time?

“If you’re not feeling well, I can do this one on my own.” Having a crewmate had definitely made a lot of things go smoother, but she’d done missions on her own before. She could get out of this situation if she had to.

“No, I want to have your back. I’ll be okay.”

Every subtle signal in the atmosphere said otherwise. She was getting used to ignoring every indication that he was attracted to her. That managed to fade into generic background radiation for their lives. This feeling wasn’t just new, it was more intense. “Look, I can read you too.” She didn’t know how often he actually used the Force for that. Certainly it had been months since she’d seen him do anything flashy, but pheromones only told her so much.

Kanan sighed. “I’m not saying I like it here. But I’m not going to leave you hanging.”

“Then I’m going to need you to actually focus.” It wasn’t the first time she wished she could just send him to take a long shower. That was an even less practical solution than usual

“Let’s just get in and out.”

Hera scanned the room again, looking for the most boring exhibit possible. There had to be something full of dull economic numbers instead of numbers that turned painful events into dry figures.

The glorious cabbage industry of this planet was just what she needed. She rested a hand on his elbow and pointed him over. As an added bonus, it wasn’t very popular.

“Don’t look at any of this. Just look at me.” Maybe she could get him back to being attracted to her. That seemed to be more or less his default state. Change the balance of the feelings. “Talk to me. About anything.”

3. Anger

The seedy cantinas had problems of their own, but she was used to them. She wouldn’t have needed pheromones to be on guard against the men in these places. She knew what they saw her as. She could handle them, she’d handled them plenty of times.

It was nice to have someone else along with her though. Sitting at a table and discussing podracing while waiting for the contact to approach was a definite improvement over sitting at the bar and fending off advances.

“It’s all about having the engines perfectly in tune.” It wasn’t Kanan’s preferred form of entertainment, but he was managing to say something that sounded like he actually paid attention and wasn’t just choosing a topic of conversation that sounded innocuous to prying ears.

He was wrong, but that was perfectly acceptable in a cover story. She wasn’t going to let him just keep being wrong, though. It wouldn’t look good, for one thing. “It’s about the pilot. Give a novice too much machine and they won’t be able to handle it.”

The two humans who approached weren’t interested in subtlety. “I like a girl who knows her racing.”

Hera suppressed a sigh. This might be the usual setting for meeting their contacts, but these situations were always going to be annoying. “Not interested.” She’d been dealing with this her entire adult life and for a few years before that. Every Twi’lek girl was warned about it from a young age.

She didn’t need the stink in the air to tell her what brought them over to this table. Just eyes to see the way they both leered. “Come on sweetheart, you can do better than him.”

“Not interested.” Telling them he wasn’t along like that would only make them more persistent.

“Ah, come on. We all know you girls are just looking for the right man. Place like this, you’re looking at him.”

She was ready for most of what she faced in a cantina like this. But she suddenly realized this hadn’t happened since Kanan had joined the crew. She suddenly detected a set of pheromones behind her that she’d never felt from Kanan before.

She’d experienced Kanan irritated plenty of times. But never angry.

“I’m just here for a drink. Which I have.” She rested a hand on Kanan’s arm. She didn’t think he’d do anything rash but.... this was new. Very new.

“I’ll get you a drink.”

Like she was ever going to take a drink from a strange man in a seedy cantina. Twi’lek girls were taught about that one from the time they could speak. They had to be.

She was used to it. Kanan wasn’t. “The lady has her drink.” She could see his hand twitch into a fist from the corner of her eye.

She should have prepared him better for this. Made a plan. Because right now, what she was sensing in the air was enough to make  her  want to punch someone. That would just mean leaving without the information. She kept her hand on her drink (just good sense) and pulled closer to Kanan. “I’ve got this,” she whispered.

They were particularly irritating, but she just needed to fend them off until their contact showed. That meant making sure she and Kanan weren’t the ones the bartender wanted gone. She’d need to get another drink eventually just to make it worth the owner’s while, but she’d navigated this situation countless times.

“You’re really picking him? There’s better quality humans all over this place.”

It shouldn’t matter if she was picking Kanan or picking to sit and drink in peace. But she needed them gone.

The sense of anger wasn’t going down. Maybe she could solve two problems at once. She slipped into Kanan’s lap, draping herself over him in an altogether familiar way. She felt the ripple of surprise through his entire body at the move. “I really am.”

Kanan pulled her drink closer to them. Very thoughtful. And she could be pretty sure he wasn’t about to start any barfights with her sitting on top of him.

“If you don’t mind, we’re busy.”

There were other pheromones in play now, but maybe she didn’t mind those ones so much after all.

4. Fear

They spent so much time getting into fights in dark alleys. It was one of the true constants of their relationship, from the very beginning. It should almost start to feel routine.

All they could do was duck. Fire. Duck again. Get another shot off.

Hera would have preferred the handoff go smooth, but a lot of things happened that didn’t necessarily align with her preferences. She could still keep the situation under something resembling control. Or at least she could keep her head.

The actual job was already done; that should count as a win. They didn’t have any suspicious packages on them. By all rights, they shouldn’t even be the interesting targets right now.

And yet. They were the ones getting shot at.

“I don’t think these guys like us, Spectre One.” They didn’t look like they were Empire. Not directly, anyway. So maybe they’d personally annoyed them somehow.

“Getting that impression, Spectre Two.” Kanan rolled behind a large trash bin and kept firing back.

They needed to find a way out of here. Hera backed as far behind cover as she could manage and pulled out her commlink. “Chop, we need a pickup five minutes ago!”

Chopper warbled some rude comments about the nature of linear time, but she trusted him to get over there as fast as actually possible.

Meanwhile, their opponents kept closing in. Did they just want them dead, was that what this was about?

Bounty hunters would want them alive. There weren’t any specific bounties on them last any of their seedier contacts had heard, but the Empire would always pay to get their hands on rebels. People who couldn’t cut it up against the big name targets might want to go to this much trouble.

Or they could have just stolen the cargo and gotten a much easier payday. Their plan didn’t make a lot of sense, and yet it was still making things incredibly difficult. “Persistent.”

They could analyze the motivations once they survived this.

A blaster bolt flew way too close to of her lekku and she had to dive on top of Kanan to avoid it. For all the flirting she never had to worry about him taking anything the wrong way in a fire fight. They both knew where they stood when they were in mortal peril. Everything got simpler then.

So she wasn’t expecting any pheromone spikes, no matter how cozy they’d just gotten. He did have  some  sense of the right moment and this was about as far as it could get from that.

They’d had plenty of time to get used to being around each other since Kanan first came on board. Kanan attracted was just a reality now.

Kanan afraid was brand new. “I’m okay. We’re both okay.”

She moved quickly, shooting back at their charming pursuers. She tried to push everything else out of her mind.

Chopper needed to hurry up.

5. Attraction, Again

The seedy cantinas were never a particularly pleasant experience, but at least they were familiar. Hera knew what they were getting into, knew the dangers and how to blend in.

These fancier events were foreign territory for both of them. The people who attended them were just as dangerous as the ones at the seedy cantinas, but they sparkled. They would still kill you if you were in their way, but they were never quite so honest as just a blaster in a back alley.

At least in the seedy cantinas, she got to wear comfortable clothes. She belonged in a flightsuit. Too bad that would make it look like she was some sort of rebel interloper here to cause trouble at the party.

Which was ridiculous; she was just a rebel interloper here to collect an intelligence drop at the party.

Fancy people at fancy parties wore slinky dresses. And if they were rebel interlopers, they tried to make sure the length could tear free to get her knees available to run in an emergency.

She could tell that Kanan was uncomfortable before he even made it out of his cabin. At least that made two of them. They’d had to borrow the formalwear from their contact. It was the right look, even if they were going to feel ridiculous the entire time.

And then he actually saw her and the pheromones became overwhelming.

“You look...” The way that men looked at her at the fancy parties would be the same as at the seedy cantinas. But coming from Kanan, she knew it was all genuine.

It was still going to be incredibly distracting. More so than from anyone else. “Like I wandered off from somewhere else.”

“I’m just saying. I’d never ask you to wear this getup, but you pull it off .” The look in his eyes finished that sentence just fine.

“You don’t look half bad yourself, you know.” Was that as distracting in the Force as the scent of human pheromones in the air were for her?

Could she even really blame it on the pheromones when she would have been interested anyway? There was more than one reason to want out of these ridiculous outfits right now.

“Trust me, no one is going to be looking at me.” Which was, of course, part of the plan. Keep every nefarious eye on her while Kanan actually took care of the handoff. She wasn’t above exploiting those exasperating tendencies wherever she went. It was a good plan. She just wanted it to be over with.

“And that is why I need you to focus .” If only so she could focus.

She was fully prepared to ditch these ridiculous shoes if she had to. Boots weren’t going to fit this look at all. Until this actually went south, she had Kanan playing the gallant escort, helping her up the step while she wrangled the skirt.

She assumed the way that he flexed his fingers after letting go was meant to be some part of the act. Kriff, that man could make it hard to focus on a job. How was  he  going to get anything done if he was projecting such an overwhelming feeling into the atmosphere?

The Force probably could do that. You certainly didn’t hear stories about the great Jedi getting distracted from their mission by a pretty face or a set of legs. They must train for it.

She, on the other hand, hadn’t. Especially not for tuning out attraction from someone she actually did feel the same toward.

“Focusing. Thinking about nothing but boring things. TPS Reports. The colour beige. That terrible holoseries Zeb loves. X-Wing fuel consumption rates.”

Not exactly sweet nothings, but having him whisper irritation in her ear was the most thoughtful thing he could have done in the moment. Endearing, but she could work with that.

And One Time They Weren't

The job had not gone well. By any stretch of the imagination. It was going to be one hell of a debriefing to work out all the specific ways it had gone wrong because she couldn’t just write “everything” in her report and call it a day. It was accurate, but it wasn’t useful.

The intel was bad. The Empire was ready for them. Their contact wasn’t where they were supposed to be. Even the weather had suddenly turned against them. Someone  not her  was going to have to figure out the particulars of how  all  of that had managed to happen at once.

For now, she just needed the kids to stop fighting. Bad enough that they were crawling through the mud trying to get back to the Ghost, it didn’t need to happen with a soundtrack. It probably wasn’t anything any of them had done that was behind all this. The mission had been doomed going in.

“You didn’t have to tackle me into the mud puddle!” Zeb did look quite the fright with his fur standing on end. She was going to have to give him first dibs on the shower, he was worse off than the rest of them.

“I could tell Sabine’s bomb was going off too soon, you’re welcome for keeping you from getting blown up!” Ezra said.

“I told you to get clear!” Sabine yelled.

Hera pinched the bridge of her nose. “All of you stop. We got through it. That’s what matters.” Not asking the kids to help with the report, that was for sure. She didn’t need their theories on who’s specific fault it was. “Go get cleaned up.”

It was going to be a pain to get the seats clean again, but she needed to get them in the air and out of here before any more company showed up. If the kids didn’t stop squabbling soon, she would set them to scrubbing it down. Or possibly the entire ship. With toothbrushes.

At least their unexpected company didn’t seem to have friends in the air to continue their ridiculous day. A few clever moves later and they were safely off the planet. Zeb was going to be in the shower for a while. Ezra and Sabine were going to be fighting for a while and Chopper would probably wade into the fray. She was just going to stay right here until they worked it out and it was her turn for the shower. No sense tromping mud anywhere else on the ship.

She felt the flicker of air as the cockpit door slid open. She didn’t need any other senses to realize who it was. For one thing, there was no accompanying argument.

Kanan slid into the co-pilot’s seat. “Well, that was a day.”

That about covered it.

There was always that standard background radiation of her life. It had been a long time since she’d actually needed pheromones to pick up on Kanan’s moods. But she still noticed them every now and then. And right now, she couldn’t help laughing. “Really? Even now?”

They were exhausted. They were covered in mud. They had bruises in places they were both going to question in the morning. The kids were at each other’s throats.

And yet, he was still actively attracted to her in this specific moment.

Apparently that was a challenge, because he decided he didn’t need to be collapsed in the seat after all. Not when kissing was an option. “Every moment you’re around.”

[imaginethatimaginethis]

party night 3

Here is it. Part 3 of this chaotic group with a chaotic night. You know, it does sound sexy dancing with four dudes at the same time. It does really, but not when your dead drunk.. and all four men too. But it still is in my imagination, right? Right.

This is Part Numero Tres

Pairing: Well, Monsta X Partying With Reader.. Will Something Happen? Maybe? Who Knows? this got out of control im sorry..

The lights where going crazy on the roof, shining to the beat of the music. The beat was strong in your chest as the bass had a steady rhythm. The sound was familiar and made you instantly bob your head as you looked around. The club was shining in different colors, making it a little difficult to let your eyes adjust to it. The crowd in the middle of the dance floor filled with young people enjoying the music and making it more attractive to dance. You felt a hand on your shoulder as you turned around to a grinning Changkyun.

“It’s great right?” He said as he leaned into you and spoke into your ear. Since the music was too loud this was the only way to talk normally.

“It is” you nodded taking his hand and swinging to the music. He laughed and moved his shoulders to the beat fitting to your swing of hips. Mouthing the song while dancing for the music you felt a rush of excitement and energy in your blood.

“Here” Jooheon yelled out as he approached you with Minhyuk and Wonho behind him. He came to you with another shot glass on a tray with many many more. You took a glass into your hand still dancing to the song playing loudly in the background.

“One. Two. Three.” Wonho counted as you all took another shot of that drink. You scrunched your face at the sweetness of that drink. It was way sweeter then the one Minhyuk gave you in the car. It tasted like strawberries and you loved it. You took another one and gulped it down. In that moment a oh so familiar song started playing as you looked at the guys in excitement. You took a step back and immediately almost tripped when Jooheon and Wonho on both sites held you up again. A step you didn’t see almost killed you, you thought and you started to laugh out as you steadied yourself, you felt the alcohol now hitting you in all the places of your body. A little dizzy you breathed in and out and giggled again.

“Are you okay (Y/N)?” Changkyun pushed you to him as he looked down at you. You just giggled and nodded putting both your hands up.

“I wanna dance” you yelled up. Minhyuk already by your side, both of you woo’d your way to the dance floor.

You mouthed the lyrics as you started to sway your hips to the song. Every pore of your body had a peaceful and relaxing state as you felt the music and danced to it. You took both Minhyuks hands and danced with him. He looked down at you grinning which made your stomach turn. Smiling up at him, he swinged you around, his chest now pressed to your back now. He started to make the same movements you did making you giggle. The song turned into a remix version mixed with another familiar song. Infront of you now is standing Jooheon. Minhyuks arms were in the air while you held Jooheons hands still dancing to the remix. A cup was then held between your faces as you looked to the side. Wonho and Changkyun now both on the dance floor as well.

“Yesss” you yelled, grabbing the cup from his hand. You looked up at him and Changkyun as your lips touched the liquid in the cup. Narrowing your eyes at Wonho, Changkyun in the background started laughing.

“That’s water Wonho” you scrunched your face to the taste as you gave it back to him. He laughed and took a gulp himself. Grabbing Changkyuns hand you pushed him to you. You were now in the middle and your group around you as you continued swinging your hips. It was a very different experience. You just enjoyed your time dancing without creepy dudes pushing themself to you and making you uncomfortable. Since you were out with four men all the other creepy ones seemed to leave you alone, which was just like a dream to you.

Shakira. That’s it. This woman made songs just right for drunken girls like you in a big club with four of your best friends. When was the last time you heard this song? La Tortura was one of the songs that you used to dance to in your living room alone when you were little. But in a filled club, with good looking men. You couldn’t control yourself to let your hips swing as best as you could mouthing and singing the Spanish words. Wonho and Changkyun a little dumbfounded but clapping and laughing at your extra ass. You took Jooheon into your arms as you started dancing, swinging your hips and showing him how to guide you through the song laughing at his silly steps. Your hands were now around his neck as he put his hands around your waist. He stared into your eyes, smiling at you mouthing the lyrics perfectly. Gliding your hands now down his chest you let them rest there and pushed him away, laughing. His bit his lip and watched you continuing to dance, feeling the moment. Grabbing then Minhyuk who was much more fun to dance with, you both goofed around as the rest of the men joined in, now another song playing.

“I need a drink” you yelled, grabbing Changkyuns hand. “Let’s get some drinks” you both now left the dance floor and took your way to the bar.

“Let’s get that sweet thing you guys got when we got in.” Changkyun looked at you confused and started to laugh.

“I didn’t understand a word you said. You’re slurring (Y/N).” Both of you now giggling as you hit is shoulder.

“The sweet shot thing ou know.. the one that tastes like strawberries” he nodded understandably and asked the bartender for a few more shots. The guy, his name seemed to be Kai, eyed you, looking you up and down, smiling and then nodding at Changkyun. He narrowed his eyes at him and turned to you.

“He did not just check you out” Changkyun turned his back now to the bartender, his face now right in front of your face.

“I guess he did” you smiled at Changkyun and pushed him to the side, taking a seat at the bar.

“(Y/N) for real?” Your elbows now on top of the counter of the bar, your chin resting on your hand, as you looked to the side at Changkyun.

“Please give me this moment”, looking back at the bartender who clearly heard you and started laughing.

“What is a pretty boy like you doing here?” You slurred blinking you’re eyes at him when Changkyun facepalmed himself.

“I’m working, love” Kai said grinning again at your cute attempt to flirt while preparing your drinks.

“Here you go sweety” he placed the drinks in a row and Changkyun started grabbing them and balancing the small shot glasses in his hands, clearly knowing you wouldn’t be able to take even one in your hand properly. You kept staring at the bartender who’s name you already forgot as he smiled back at you.

“(Y/N) let’s gooo” Changkyun said again pushing his shoulder against yours. You slipped down the seat and waved at your new lover as you kissed your palm and blew him a kiss. He catched it and put it into his apron as you giggled.

“Oh god..” Changkyun rolled his eyes, walking back to the dance floor with you now next to him. The three men still having their great time as they made a dance off. Looking into your direction, you woo’d your way to them as everyone grabbed their shot and gulped it down in an instant, continuing to dance into the night. Now all four of you almost dead drunk out of your brains which was clearly noticeable from your giggling and laughing and tripping from the dancing. Your dance off went for another hour, enjoying the heat of the filled dance floor.

After a while you felt like your bladder is going to explode. You really needed to pee but wasn’t sure where exactly the toilets were. You looked around, breaking the lyric battle you just had with Jooheon.

“What’s wrong?” Jooheon said looking around as well.

“I need to pee” you said loud enough for almost everyone to hear. “But I don’t know where the toilets are”

“Come on I’ll show you” Wonho grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the crowd. Walking past people you were gripping his arm, feeling his muscles flexing from time to time beneath your hand. Walking into a small floor he pushed you forward, walking behind you, his hand on your shoulder to steady you.

“The womens bathroom seems to be full” he nodded to the right as you saw girls were lining up infront of the bathroom. You nodded and looked up behind you.

“It’s okay I’ll wait” you slurred at him grinning. He shook his head and went past you, holding his finger up and gesturing you to wait. He walked into the men’s bathroom and opened the door just seconds later.

“There’s no one here. Go in here. I’ll wait here” he slurred leaning against the wall, his eyes hooded and cheeks flushed pink as you looked at him. You hesitated for a moment but then nodded and walked into the bathroom. It was really empty, making it a little creepy. The mirror was on the left side and the cabins where on the right. It really looked like something out of a horror movie. You turned to the mirror to look at yourself. In pure shock you came closer to your reflection. You looked good, still but that was probably just the alcohol thinking, to say the least. You clearly looked like out of a horror movie. Walking to the cabins you opened a door, and sat on the toilet. Finally emptying your bladder, you smiled to yourself. You had such a great time right now and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. These moments made you the happiest. Just enjoying the night out and having fun with your friends, forgetting all the responsibilities you have and just letting go for once. Zooming back in you grabbed the toilet paper and finished up. You heard the front door opened again but you weren’t really paying attention to it as you slipped your panties back up, fixing your outfit when your cabin door suddenly opened. You were about to yell that it was already occupied when the person entering pushed you back in against the wall on the side. His hand was now on the left side of your head as you looked up at him.

“Wonho wha-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence when his lips crashed onto yours, engulfing you into a blissful kiss. His soft and warm lips on yours as you made out in the men’s toilet cabin. You giggled at the thought, your hands both on his chest as you pushed him away from you.

“This is gross Wonho and not romantic. I didnt even flush. My pee is still chilling there.” You giggled out and he laughed. He leaned in again giving you another peck to your lips when he opened the door. You flushed the toilet walking out and fixing your hair in the mirror after washing your hands. The kiss between you Wonho already forgotten. Maybe? Wonho was waiting at the door already opening it for you and watching you fix your outfit. Ready for another drink you jumped past him, grabbed his hand as both of you walked to the bar.

[san-station]

A Quiet Place AU / ATEEZ (Post-apocalyptic)

Chapter 4

↝Word count: 5028

Description: In a world full of silence and dangerous creatures seeking for blood, a group of friends have to survive for their own good and find the safe place they've heard about months ago.

Pairing: OC x San

WARNING: cursing, mention of death.

A/N: This is longer than I thought omg!!! Hope you like it~

・・・・・・・・

Zoom out in the end of the world.

The most beautiful dark blue sky above us resembled a surrealistic painting with all the stars gathering in their own shinny and sparkly sea.  When most of the lights of the world shut down, the light of the dying stars made us all company illuminating the obscure path in our struggle, they were our faithful guide through the days we survived in the vast woods, shimmering and testifying death, cries and love. It was sort of romantic if you could forget half of human race was gone and you could actually concentrate in finding some love life. But it was not the fucking moment, Joong. The night terrified me, it was, in the first place, the one that brought destruction on Earth with that wonderful meteor shower more than a year ago. 

I ran a hand down my washed face, my elbows were resting on the roof cornice and I was just admiring the incredible and mysterious view before me. I felt refresh, with no blood spots printed on my clothes or skin, but at the same time my guilt flowed through my veins spreading pain all over my pores, they were actually screaming "it's your fault!" every ten seconds, and deep down I knew it was. 

Jongho and Wooyoung sat on the wooden table from the basement where we had dinner five minutes ago, every couple of weeks we had dinner on the rooftop of the building so, we moved the table easily and soundlessly and ate like everything in the world was okay, just that it wasn’t. The place was decorated with some Christmas lights on the iron poles that created a false ceiling with vines, the outdoors made a familiar mood, we had an indoors garden in college and I used to stay there with Haerin after practices to meditate. A pile of wood was in the middle of the floor keeping the place heated with a huge bonfire for the nine of us. A blast of wind made my dark hair dance a crazy and esoteric choreography on my shoulders while I took a deep breath. 

So… quiet… 

If we were outside, we’d need to talk through sign language to protect us from the monsters, Jin and Misuk taught us when they found a book for learning them in one of the places we stayed a long time ago. Quietness was the realistic manner to talk since there was no other way faster. Yeah, we could write something but it was useless in a live or die situation. We dominated the sign language after three months of hard work in the woods, communicating will always be the only way to understand each other fluently, so on the rooftop it was a must. The only sound around was made by the fire flares.

A whole warm palm rested on my left shoulder, I jerked upright in surprise and veered to face Yeosang’s eyes. My eyebrows knitted as I was already stepping aside. Yunho’s legs swinged above the building’s cornice as he counted the stars in his mind, from time to time he grimaced. Hongjoong was at the other corner of the rooftop next to San, they were talking in signs about today’s argument but I looked away, not wanting to think about it anymore. Yeosang was starting to move his hands.

“I haven't been thinking straight lately, to be honest…” he began slowly. My deadpan expression stiffed him and started again. His brown eyes pierced mine with sadness and guilt, I can't lie if I said it wasn't killing me inside. 

“Ji, I just want to apologize, ok? Give me a moment...” I stared at him for a few seconds, I scanned his face and took a mental picture of his features. He was freaking handsome, and I never realized it, not even when there were a lot of people crushing on him in college. Perhaps Yeosang was the little man with an ice heart that took the whole Misuk’s death deal as a misogynist, or it could be just me being such a bitch for taking care a little about our murdered friend as a personal thing, but it actually was a personal thing. Not only for me, for all of us. 

Well, maybe not all of us.

“Misuk was a good friend and I know we’re all gonna miss her, but life goes on, don’t you think?” he added with a final little smile, he was begging, I could feel it. 

“You’re not making it any better” I signed and glanced at Seonghwa going over Wooyoung and Jongho to thanked them about the food. Wooyoung winked at him and signed some kind of joke I couldn't catch.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what do you want me to say…” He lowered his head and I left out a sigh. The anger faded away from me, Yeosang was a good man, I knew that, he was also intelligent and reasonable, so he was right. After our death, the world will keep going, so is everybody’s life. The pain will remain for those who had a strong bond, but life goes on and on, we managed to do it after all as our normal lives vanished progressively in front of our eyes. 

My right hand reached Yeosang’s jaw and made him look up with wide scared eyes. 

“Don’t worry…” I gave him a little smile while my hands moved, “life goes on, right? Just don’t be so careless when I die” then, I patted his shoulder and turned again to my main position, maybe I would see a shooting star and wish for all of us to wake up from this nightmare.  Yeosang opened his mouth astonished and articulated “shit” while he walked away and sat next to a happy and full Mingi and a smiley Yunho on the cornice. Although they wanted to cheer us all with their cute smiles and jokes, deep down they were suffering as much as we exteriorized that and it broke my heart to see the masks they had to wear, not because they needed to, but for us to not worry more than we already were. 

After five minutes, we decided to go back to the basement. Seonghwa offered himself to clean the mess, like he always did. He liked things neat the way he wanted so no one opposed. 

    In the basement the air was thicker with San staring at me as he wanted to strangle me. His green eyes felt like shots that crossed every inch of my skin. As for the rest, Mingi was trying to make Yeosang sing a lullaby to sleep, Yunho was drinking with Jongho some beers and taking care of the little one as he cried Misuk’s death on the couch. Hongjoong and I were resting in one of the basement’s corners, the one that had our names engraving in the wood wall. 

      San’s eyes narrowed sharply when we made eye contact for the tenth time that night, and I, immediately, looked away. However, I could feel his gaze, judging every move I made ready to shout, or modulate the words “I told you so”.  The words never came. He just looked at me from his place, seated among the fire to embrace the warm flares of the little chimney inside the basement. Wooyoung came out of the bathroom, ran one hand through his parted blonde hair and sat between the mullet boy and me. 

"Yo, guys, I recommend you to use the other bathroom at least for tonight… I wouldn't enter that place, is a nightmare", he whispered dramatically shaking. I scrunch my nose as Hongjoong giggled. Wooyoung wrapped his arms around me and I melted into it. I needed comfort and he always cared about giving it to the people around.

“Little Jiyeong, give me a smile”, he croon in my ear and the hair in the back of my neck jerked. I shook my head. 

“I’m not in the mood, Woo, but thanks for worrying”, my fingers touched his strong arms around me, I squeezed them for a bit after Wooyoung let me go. 

“You know… It’s kinda tough the way you close yourself so much that even Hongjoong can’t pass through the walls”, he murmured. Hongjoong sighed and my body tensed as I looked away. It wasn't on propose, if I felt like it, I would get into that shell, built a wall between everyone and everything and would just stay there for a whole month if I needed to. Life wasn't fair because now I wasn't even allowed to zoom out in the end of the world, fuck this.

Wooyoung tilted his head against the the wall full of scratches created by the sharp point of the Swiss Army knife that Hongjoong had since we met. Hongjoong and Wooyoung started a conversation where I wasn't invited, or maybe I was, but my mind was in another place.

Suddenly, Yeosang approached to our spot and looked deep into my eyes, his features seem so tired and sharp it could cut me if I stared too much longer. He extended his hand to me, he had venous hands that used to play the guitar when we took a break of dance practices, I liked them, they were pretty captivating. 

I reached Yeosang’s hand and stood up with his help. From the corner of my eyes I could see how San stood up as well and walked next to us as Yeosang approached us to the room they shared. When we got inside the comfy and warm room, San closed the door and Yeosang told me to sit on his bed. I turned to see one mattress with light green sheets and a plushie on it besides the black sheets mattress next to the bathroom wall, so I rested on the corner of the light one and grabbed the plushie between my hands. Yeosang gave a quick and alarmed gaze to San, who only stood there with arms crossed over his chest and a annoyed face.

Yeosang started to speak softly. 

“I don’t want to talk about the elephant in the room, but we almost got kill twice because of him and his impulsives ways of getting Misuk’s attention…”, I bite my tongue to stop myself from interrupt him right away.

"And we think Jongho has to be inside for at least a month if we don't want him to go after what he thinks is left of Misuk's body", Yeosang continued after a soft sigh. My hands squeezed the plushie and San looked at it for a second after our gaze met. What was left of Misuk’s body….

"You know he can't be here for that long knowing we have to move and keep looking", I speak lowering my gaze to stare at the animal, it was a cute puppy dressed in white and light brown colors. I never got in their room before, I never had to. It smelled of sweets and kinda sour; walls showered with pictures of their love once, some pages of newspapers talking about the day of the meteor shower and more. The place scream for a little more of light, but they only had a cute lamp on top of the desk between the beds. It felt kind of cold, but at the same time the smell of San and Yeosang made it more familiar and cozy.

"We can manage to look for ourselves, Jiyeong", San rolled his eyes and sighed, his cheekbones popped out due to the lack of light and he seem so tired and sleepy… not that I worried about it, though.

"If you wanna tell the poor heartbroken boy to stay here instead of going out and help us to find the safe place we've been talking about for months, be my guest, San", I jerked up abruptly and motioned to go out of there, but San wrapped my right arm with his right hand a little too tight for my pleasure and whispered: "don't… we need to talk about this now." 

“He will only listen to you or Hongjoong, but Joong also thinks is the best for him if he keeps helping us”, Yeosang was now inches away from my face, his gaze looking deep into my soul while I looked between him and San. 

“My answer stills the same, guys. A friend just died, we can’t hold people down just because they could be a little disturbed about the news”, I spatted and threw the plushie to its bed.  

“And then, make us all kill”, the dark hair boy spoke almost in a whisper but he knew we heard him.

Yeosang groaned and straightened his back, his eyes now piercing mine, barely painfully.

“Maybe someday you’ll realize that every single mistake has consequences. Her death is on you, Jiyeong. This could slow us down a couple of days and-”

“A minute ago you were sorry, now you’re an asshole spitting shit at me like if I wasn’t aware of what just happened. I was there, you idiot...”, I interrupted him with sharp voice and clear the lump that was starting to form in my throat. “If this is gonna be our routine, don’t talk to me again, Yeosang.”  

 He stepped back, eyes a little shocked and taken by surprised. Then, he muttered “This is gonna be all your fault, Jiyeong” and left the room with rage, leaving me with the devilish boy. I looked down at San's hand and he let me go, although my skin was burning from the contact and it started to inch. I didn't back off, neither walked out of there. Yeosang was mad again and the last thing he probably wanted, was to see me around. San was staring at me so determined that I felt the need to hold his sharp gaze, unwilling to back down till one of us won the battle, it was a war between air and a strange connection we couldn't cut so easily. The right side of his lips turn up, a bit amused. Seconds later, he grasped his throat and lower his gaze. 

"I'm sorry", I was taken aback by the statement, I’ve never heard San apologizing, not even when he bumped into Lucas while dancing and almost ruined the performance; not even when Seonghwa prepared a full plate of healthy breakfast for Yeosang because he needed the energy to go haunting and San ended up eating the half of the food thinking it was for him. Not even when he and Jin were fighting and, as the dance class tried to stop them, San misstep in the congestion of hands and bodies and fell on top of me, causing me to have a sprained ankle that held me for two weeks.

 What the fuck was that? 

"What the fuck…" I murmured, making San scoff and rolled his green eyes. His lips almost showed a smile, almost.

"I know, right?", our shoulders brushed as he walked next to me and sat on the light green bed, taking the plushie between his hands. "I know the things I say hurt… but you know I'm right. Although, Yeosang is just mad at you as we all are. Not because all of this is your fault, we’re mad because we care about you."

I sat next to him.

"Keep going", I said, encouraging him to continue, somehow I was enjoying this. 

He huffed and turned his face to see me, now he was smiling. I lowkey missed his smile, it was beautiful to be honest; on stage, he used to smile when people screamed his name, he vividly enjoyed the attention he was given but after not being able to fully express yourself with no more than your hands, you'll close yourself up… we all did. 

"When you guys returned, I'm not gonna lie…", he sighed as his shoulders relaxed a bit. "I was kinda mad at you for taking such a stupid idea and I know I can't make you think clearly once it's stuck in your brain." He wasn't wrong, my stubborn ass liked the ideas I had, sometimes they were the worst choice I would ever do, but they worth it… didn't they?

"You were three hours late, Ji… Jongho, Yunho and I were just ready to look out for all of you if it wasn't for Joong and his trust on you. You’re so stupid...", he then spatted a little harsh. Where was that smile again? I cleared my throat and looked at a specific blank spot on the floor.  

"And after all, here I am, right?", I shrugged and gave him a little smile with sad eyes. Yeah, Misuk's death was pretty bad but they were right, we had a purpose, we needed to fulfill it as quick as we could. 

Suddenly, I felt San's strong arms around my shoulders as he hide his face in my neck. I tensed up and panicked inside. That kind of gestures never happened before,  we never hugged… never. Was he really that worried? 

“I’m so mad right now…”, he whispered as his arms tighten around me. “What if you guys were gone by now and the last thing I did was yell at you for being so stubborn? I will never forgive myself…”

"San, that's because you're an asshole…", I chuckled lightly, he stayed silent. "And it's okay… we're gonna be okay", my arms wrapped his waist and he pulled me closer. His whole body radiated warmth, his soft and calmed breathes caressed my sensitive skin and I shivered once again. "San…", I whispered as he run his hands up and down my spine slowly, my back was on fire now, everything burnt as if we walked next to the sun and the flames touched over my clothes, sticking them into my flesh and bones. It sounded painfully bad, but was extremely pleasant.

"I know you hate me, I hate you too…", he scoffed and let go off me. "But you can't just… die, okay?", he said in a smooth voice, almost endearing. That was weird, the frowned on my face tensed him and he looked away from my face to the plushie on the bed. He grabbed it and then mumbled: “At least not when we had an argument and you can’t apologies.” 

I softly chuckled and bit my lower lip to stop the word “asshole” from coming out, it was his nickname after all. I left his side and was about to walked out when his voice stopped me.

"By the way, can you not hold Shiber like that again? It feels he's about to die", he referred to the plushie in his hands and my throat got dry. Was it his?! Who the fuck is this guy?!

    “Right… Sorry, ‘bout that”.

      I left the room with my face slightly blushed. I let out a breath that I didn’t think I was holding, he’s an idiot. I past the rooms right to the living room and saw Seonghwa still washing the dishes. Yunho and Mingi were curled up at the sofa asleep, Hongjoong and Yeosang were nowhere to be found, and Wooyoung entered Jongho’s and Mingi’s bedroom to watch out for the younger boy. My impulsive self decided to slip my arms around Seonghwa’s waist and rest my cheek on his back. San made a point, what if the creatures would’ve heard us and none of us wouldn't’ have made it? The guys would’ve looked out for us just to realized how dead we would’ve been.. And just because Misuk and I wanted to collab a little more, so going and doing risky stuffs would give us a little more of the adrenaline we had near the house. And then was Yeosang... I knew the idea was mine and Misuk took it as a free pass to go outside the house limits. Our turn to go for supplies was changed when Jin died, so we had a whole month inside the limits and Misuk was being a pain in the ass. Would Jongho be like that if we locked him up for that long?

    “I’m so sorry…”, Seonghwa froze as the words left my mouth, I closed my eyes filling my nostrils with his viril scent and let myself embrace the warmth of his body. He was like a brother to me, we were the same age -as Hongjoong- and I felt closer to them than anyone else due to that one time when we had a performance together and spent a lot of time next to each other, eventually we became the best of friends. They helped me with my paintings, I helped them with any of the tasks they had in their music major. They knew that when I got clingy, something very bad was happening to me. 

“I should’ve listen to them and stay here, Hwa…”, I shut my eyes harder, it made me dizzy when the white spots appeared, but it kept the tears from falling, and no, I wasn’t in the mood for let them see me crying, it was really hard to keep it cool  though. “Why am I so stubborn…? Misuk would be alive if it wasn’t for me. I’m such a bad influence in here, you would be better without-”. Seonghwa turned around in a blink and covered me with his arms. 

“Shut up, Jiyeong, don’t you dare continue that sentence…”, he rest his head on mine while I hold him as close as I could. I held a large part of his shirt in my hands, wrinkling it and slightly holding it up so his back was a little exposed. Seonghwa apparently didn’t care about the cold air caressing his bare skin, he worried more about the tears that slowly wet the cotton cloth covering his chest.

“You are aware that we all made that decision, right? We all are part of this mess and yeah, if maybe you both wouldn’t have gone with me, Misuk would have been probably alive, or not. We don’t know that… Maybe it could’ve been me instead but... ”, he sighed. His hands started to pushed me even though I didn’t like the idea, so I grabbed him tightly. “Jiyeong, look at me, please”, his voice was, once again, as smooth and tender as always. Finally i jerked my head up and looked into his blue eyes.

“You just make those images of Misuk change into you being the one laying there, Seonghwa... “, a soft sob escaped my mouth and a could hear a door open followed by a couple of steps that stopped abruptly. 

“I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, Ji…”, Seonghwa kissed the top of my head and, one more time, pushed softly for me to see him. My eyes were puffy and redness decorated them with a pink flush on my nose. 

“I may have been brave out there, I may have been all serious and mature, but you can’t realized how afraid I was…”, after a hard swallow, I liked my lips and sighed. “I keep hearing her flesh and bones being crashed by those teeth, Hwa.”, I sniffed and faced him for real. His blue eyes were a little glassy and he seemed sad, I know he wanted to be strong for the both of us, but man, that was hard. His thumbs brushed the tears aways from my cheeks.

“You usually locke your feelings because you’re afraid of being judged, we are in a place where we don’t have time for that”, no one will ever understand how Seonghwa’s gaze could make you zoom out of the place you were and feel so at peace. My breathing normalized progressively as my little sobs faded away. He felt familiar and comfortable. “If you want to cry, do it. It doesn’t matter if you’re alone, but it’s better to let all those feelings out there than keep them until you explode.”

“I feel… weak.”, his eyebrows knitted and he scanned my face looking for more answers. “I couldn’t help her and I let her go to that birdhouse, it was me...”, my fists lost their grip and I took a step back. “No one else can die like that, Seonghwa. We can’t let that happen.” The taller boy took a deep breath, which caressed my face after he released it. His strong hands grabbed my shoulders and made me stepped forward.

“You are strong, Ji, emotionally speaking. Maybe your body is not fit for lifting a car, but you are strong for lifting what was left of Jiyeong after those monsters left and bury her…”, he came closer and lower his forehead to mine, his hands lowered as well and we interlocked our fingers. Everyone who wouldn’t know our relationship could say we were dating, but that's the way we reassured ourselves that we were not alone. It was the same habit with Hongjoong. 

Another steps were heard and then, a door was closed a little too hard.

“I wanted to honour her life, at least keeping the rest that was left of her in a place where we could visit if we come over again…”, my head was spinning and I looked down to our intertwined hands, they were clean but hours ago they were just filthy with burgundy liquid, brown and wet dirt and my salty tears. We arrived sweating from all the dirt that we moved to bury Misuk’s body near the place she was killed, we told no one about it, except for Hongjoong because it was too risky and it wasn't easy as well to go all the way down the rooftop with a half dead body. 

“You are brave, you are strong and nobody can tell you the opposite, ok?”, Seonghwa grabbed my face between his hands and squeezed a little. That made me laugh for a second and I sniffed once more. He really wanted to motivate me, no matter how cheesy he was.

“Now, go to sleep” , he patted my head and gesture with his head to my bedroom. I hesitated for a second when I realized how cold that room must’ve been, should I sleep in there knowing that was the last thing I was going to do? Misuk’s scent when she was alive would mixed with his decomposed smell. My heart beated in my ears as a second lump reached my throat.

“Hwa… Could you…?”, I never finished the question ‘cause he was giggling at me. He put a hand down my back and leaded me to the bedrooms.

“Yeah, Ji. I wouldn’t mind the company”, he then stopped and went to the sofa, lifted a little the blanket that covered the two big boys and turned off the living room’s light. “I’ll tell Hongjoong to join us and cuddle as much as you want”

“I don’t… cuddle”, I mumbled staring the floor, a little embarrassed to admit anything.

“Hm… So, no cuddle”, he nodded deadpan serious and I open my eyes with some dramatically fear on them. 

“W-Well… Maybe I want to cuddle but fuck you tho”, I whispered while my fist collided with his chest.

    A grin showed up in his face and we walked to the room I shared with Misuk. Jongho was surprisingly there cuddling with San and Wooyoung. The three of them sleeping on Misuk’s bed made the scene more nostalgic than cuter. Seonghwa squeezed my shoulders and I finally grabbed my pillows heading out of there to enter Honjoong and Seonghwa’s bedroom. Hongjoong was there, listening some music from his iPod. When he saw us, he gave us a little smile and patted a free spot on his bed for us to lay down. 

    “I was waiting for you, and I must confess that I’m a scared of this power. Knowing you damn well will be the death of me”, he giggle as fast as his smile fade away. His face softened. “I- I didn’t mean that…”

    “Just shut up and cuddle, you big dumbass.”, I groaned and let myself get cosy with the mullet boy and the raven boy. They hugged my waist as I grabbed their arms and pulled them closer. That way, they met Morpheus a couple of minutes later, while my mind wondered and repeated the scenes from the afternoon. We were ready to move on a week later when we found out that the safe zone was pretty close. After five months of seeking for some help and finally acknowledge that the place that Jin found out a couple of days before he was attacked, was way up North through the deserted city, 10 or 11 miles from where we stayed. On foot, it was gonna take us three days with some break times in the middle, but the great news were that we were closer than ever. He would be proud. Him and the others that left our side in our crusade, we would finally reach Wonderland. Perhaps it was all a dream, some cheesy rumor for those who still had some hope inside their helpless bodies. And, yes, we were those with hope and helpless bodies ready to die for a rumor, fuck off. Desperate actions are made in desperate times.  

    “Try to close your eyes, Ji”, Seonghwa’s raspy voice alerted me when I was so self-absorbed by my one thoughts. “I know it’s hard but we’re here for you”, he closed his eyes one more time and tighten his grip on my waist. Suddenly, Hongjoong’s hand caressed the exposed skin of my stomach and whispered.

    “No one would harm you, not when we’re around”

    “You just quote Sweeney Todd?”, I asked with a grin in my face.

    “Goodnight, Jiyeong”, he smile and kissed my shoulder. 

    “Night, guys”

    And so, my eyelids felt heavy, my breath slowed down and soon after I was dreaming, dreaming about safety, a place where no one would get hurt or murder, a place where we would be happy and carelessly free. Well, those dreams would crash out pretty soon, but I wasn’t aware of that, any of us were.

(...)

Masterlist

[rainsonata]

Doppelgänger 6/15

Chapter 06: Mindfulness  

Fandom/Pairing: Elsword; none Rating: M Word Count: 7,205

Summary: It was like looking into a mirror. What happens when one’s reflection talks back and throws uncomfortable questions? El Search Party struggles to find entrance into the Demon Realm, but Dominator has a plan.   

Alternative Title: Dominator fucked up and now everyone meets their alternative selves   

AO3 Link / FF.NET Link

— [Chapter 01] [Chapter 02] [Chapter 03] [Chapter 04] [Chapter 05] [Chapter 06] [Chapter 07] [Chapter 08] [Chapter 09] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] —  

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Class Notes: 

Canon Path: Knight Emperor, Aether Sage, Daybreaker, Rage Hearts, Code: Esencia, Comet Crusader, Apsara, Empire Sword, Doom Bringer, Ishtar and Chevalier (Innocent), Bluhen   

Alternative Path: Rune Slayer, Oz Sorcerer, Anemos, Furious Blade, Code: Ultimate, Fatal Phantom, Devi, Flame Lord, Dominator, Timoria and Abysser (Catastrophe), Richter

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Code: Esencia

Fighting has temporarily ceased. In what appeared as a sign of victory was cut short by the appearance of an additional enemy. He shared Rage’s appearance in facial structure and body, but his disposition and body language spoke volumes of his intentions. Esencia understood when Blade extended his sword, lowering his body with the poise of a veteran fighter. His narrow eyes revealed a common emotion the Nasod queen recognized in all living beings she had fought. Blade was wary, defensive.  

Her scans displayed readings Esencia saw when she looked at Richter. Same levels of El as Rage, yet there were differences that perplexed Esencia. Nasods and humans’ levels of El fluctuated depending on the situation and their condition, but always had an average reading. Rage and Blade had similar levels, but they were distributed in different areas. It was as if Blade had neglected his Nasod arm in favor of another form of fighting to have developed higher stamina than his counterpart.   

Grabbing Richter by the arm, the swordsman aided the blue-haired man in a quick but clumsy exit. Rage had once performed an act of kindness when Esencia was damaged from a fight against the demons invasion in Velder. He and Bluhen were not enemies, but they were not what humans considered to be close friends, only lifting their heads slightly in acknowledgment if they happened to be next to each other. Seeing their alternates come to each other’s aid wasn’t something Esencia could have predicted.    

How many were injured? Empire asked through their communicators, her intonation rose at the end in concern. Is everyone all right? 

“How did you know?” Apsara asked, “Are you hurt too?” 

The red knight gave a quiet chuckle, You left your speaker on again. 

“How- how much did you hear?” The martial artist stuttered, waving her arms in alarm. Empire didn’t need to see Apsara’s face to recognize the panic in the martial artist’s expression, exaggerated even by human standards. Hair strands perked from her hairline, falling over Apsara’s pink face.    

Enough to catch that argument you had with Ain, Empire said. That was him, right? He didn’t sound very friendly. 

“Hmph, that is a subpar description of what he is.” Ishtar puffed her cheeks, crossing her arms closer to her body with a deep scowl. “An ungrateful brat who won’t call us by our names.” 

“Doesn’t ours do the same?” Chevalier was confused, “He only recently started calling us nicer names.” 

“Is Rune safe?” Esencia asked. “Has he spoken?”

Out of the rune user’s insistence, the party had dubbed him as Rune to avoid confusion between the two Elswords. He was their leader, yet at the same time, he wasn’t Knight. Members of the El Search Party commented on his clothes (“Are you sure you don’t need another jacket?” Crusader asked). 

With a gentle smile, because humans became eased when given little gestures, Rune failed to conjure a proper answer when Esencia offered him tea. A melancholic expression flashed in his eyes before the magic knight agreed to help them. The same eyes Esencia had when she opened her eyes to discover that her faithful servants were no more. Guilt. Pain. Things she once felt shame to possess. Did both Elswords experience them too?   

It was difficult to determine the cause of the appearance of their counterparts due to insufficient data, but the Nasod queen was prepared to utilize what they did know. Rune was another Elsword who claimed he had contact with their leader. That was why she accepted the El Search Party’s decision to keep Rune. His resonance with the El could be helpful in addition to Bluhen’s in finding Knight in the shroud of dark El and demon inhabitants.  

Empire lowered her voice into one of sadness. Lights flickered from their communicators, no longer flashing a message to all team members. She didn’t want to be heard by the others. Her voice reached their smaller group of four. 

Rune’s still here, Empire said. I told him not to push himself, but he kept apologizing, saying it’s his fault.

“They located us,” Esencia looked to the distance on her left side, allowing her lens to zoom into the moving shadows in the distance. “There are four of them.” 

“We’ll talk to you later,” Apsara spoke into her communicator. “Keep everyone safe.” 

Her speaker went off before Empire could give a response.     

The sky glowed, iridescent light shining in all directions. Gold thread swung over Richter’s head, steel-blue eyes gazed ahead with long hair extending down his back. The colors in his eyes inverted - pupils and sclera turned blue and white irises. El radiated from the man’s pores as he drew out pointed blades for each hand; they lacked physical shape but were held together by an immeasurable amount of sheer will. 

Several blades formed around Richter, merging into a longsword as he dashed forward and propelled himself. His blade clashed with Ishtar’s, barbed weapons sharpened at their ends with each side waiting for a moment of hesitation from their opponent. Richter backed away at the sound of bullets coming from his right. 

Smoke emitted from Chevalier’s gun blades. Bullets pierced across the battlefield the second time, bringing the priest’s attention over to the butler. Fighting a human opponent made Chevalier cautious, pulling his trigger away from Richter’s vital organs. It was apparent that the blue-haired man’s intention was to keep the priest alive. He had no interest in killing his own kind when they could make use of Richter’s knowledge. Richter’s intention in attacking them wasn’t something Esencia could extract from a database if one existed.  

Chevalier adjusted his feet, spread apart to fire a giant cannonball. Intensive levels of energy spiked from his gunblade and imploded. The aftershock threw Richter against the tree trunks with an audible thud. The teal haired man wiped his forehead, furrowed brows and stared at the crisp cut indented into exposed alabaster skin.     

Clutching her left arm, Ishtar smirked. “Your timing is impeccable as always.”

“My apologies,” Chevalier landed on his feet. The cross-shaped firearm on his back shifted as he repositioned himself. “I’ll have to be faster next time.” 

A shimmer of light shone in Ishtar’s hand, materializing into a blue spear. Light shimmered at her feet, leaping midair and blue flames flared from her body. Fire crackled and engulfed Richter in a sea of blue. The forest’s temperature rose in unison to the duo crossing their weapons. 

Moby and Remy alerted Esencia to look over her shoulder. Her lens shuttered. Oberon summoned by her side, her servant raised a blade in each hand for a wide slash. Each pose was precise with a purpose, reading his opponents’ moves to formulate the next attack. The chain attached to Oberon’s shoulder blade clanged when he pressed his blades together to block an attack. A pair of heeled shoes with spiky cleats came into her peripheral vision. 

The wind carried Anemos’ weight in a complex dance of jumps and sprints. The markings on her thighs made her similar to Ventus’ not only in appearance but in the way she held herself. She was confident, but the smile tugging at the edge of her lower lip gave way for a very human expression in which her brows were lifted ever slightly, gleaming with a spark of playfulness.

Anemos twirled, performing somersaults and landing high jump kicks into Oberon’s chest. The Nasod assistant flew across, slamming his foot back in resistance with blades dampening the elf woman’s attack. 

“Sorry! My bad~” The elf spread her fingers in a lazy wave, “I heard you were here. Didn’t know you had extra friends with you!”

Esencia winced when Anemos left an indentation between Oberon’s ribs. Pulling her servant back, blue screens projected from Remy and Moby. She had a sentry drone take over and ordered it to charge. Its small size took Anemos by surprise and made the elf lose her footing in the sudden attack. Anemos took the fall in grace and landed on her palms, bringing her legs back and into a backflip to avoid further damage. 

“Friends…” Esencia pursed her lips. Extending this fight would be beneficial because it would buy time for the rest of the El Search Party to get away from the chaos, but she recognized the flaws, as well as a Nasod should. Longer fights meant a reduction in supplies and high risk in losing valuable team members if any of them were injured. She had her servants, but they didn’t perform well in extraneous fights. Identifying and targeting Anemos’ weakness must be a priority. The Nasod queen trusted her friends’ ability to take on the other three.

“Airelinna,” Anemos brought her palms together. A gentle breeze summoned a small creature, leaving a blessing and restoring her stamina. Her footsteps became lighter as she drew out her bow. Arrows formed at Anemos’ fingertips and shone, raining down upon the Nasod queen.          

“Oberon,” Esencia drew back a hand to summon back the Nasod servant. “Protect.” 

Oberon held his arms out and summoned a blue dome-shaped barrier between Anemos and them. The electric field sparked as he raised his blades at the elf, pushing her back and blocking her attacks.   

“You’re not chatty,” Anemos tucked her body into a low crouch. She hugged her left arm and winced in pain, sweat trailing down the side of her neck with a tired smile.  “You and Eve would get along well.”   

Esencia blinked. The other Eve? Something in her circuits clicked at the mention of another Nasod queen. They would likely hold the same code if the other Eve followed the same path as she did, but it was not the first time the thought had occurred in Esencia. The loneliness persisted even after she reclaimed her servants. Would the other Eve experience the same emotions as she did?

“Unless you know where Elsword is, there is nothing to add to this conversation,” Esencia said. 

She ordered Oberon to retrieve and raised her hands to summon her other servant. Humanoid in appearance, Ophelia was shorter than Oberon and donned a knee-length dress.  

“I thought you would say that,” Anemos sighed. 

Propping herself back on her feet, Anemos leaped from across, taking long strides and using her magic to increase her speed. The elf strung her bow back, firing three arrows at Ophelia. Ophelia emitted electric currents from her core, catching the arrows midair and reducing them to ashes.      

A kick to the side, a powerful wind churned from within Anemos. Powerful wind picked lifted Esencia into the air as the elf struck Ophelia between the ribs, sending the servant flying across the forest. The tornado dropped Esencia to the floor, but not before she dropped into Oberon’s arms. She thanked the Nasod and patted Oberon by the shoulder to be lowered. 

Oberon sliced through the air with his blades, forming a circular motion as he danced a macabre dance. Moby and Remy burst into awakening mode as Esencia activated the Queen Core. The core configuration reversed into a ring with the core at the center and blared a violent red. Lasers shot from the core’s essence in unison to Oberon striking into their target. 

Blood gushed from Anemos’ forearm. The woman wrapped the injured arm with a spare piece of cloth and applied pressure to it. She kept her weight in the back of her feet and kept moving, her eyes danced between Esencia and the Nasod servants. 

“The way you fight reminds me of someone,” Anemos breathed. “He’s not one to underestimate the enemy either.”

“You acknowledge being the enemy?” Esencia asked. 

She giggled, “I’m not blind in your distrust of me.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,”  Esencia denied. Until there was enough information about the El Search Party’s counterparts, she would withhold trust until there was evidence saying otherwise. The Nasod queen was uncertain about having an amicable opponent, too friendly to make her comfortable.   

“Do you now?” Anemos drawled.      

“Oberon,” she called for her servant. “Sonic Wave!”

Appearing in front of the queen, Oberon took charge. His helmet shone as he raised his legs and kicked the ground to propel himself at Anemos. Oberon performed a backflip for a wide slash with the side of his blades when Esencia detected foreign Nasod technology. Before her program could detect the source, an unknown object flew past her field of vision. It followed Oberon. Moby and Remy detected its movement guided by a tracking device. There was insufficient time to identify it. A flat disc the size of her palm fired into Oberon’s body, increasing the number of dents in the Nasod before returning to its owner. 

Four drones appeared together as a cluster. She picked up high readings in energy as pink lasers fired from them in unison. Oberon fought to resist the tension, waving his blades to inflict damage, but they persisted. Temperatures rose the closer the drones approached Oberon, melting through his plated exterior and forcing the Nasod to shut down.     

“What kind of drone is this?” A male voice rose from the dust. Sparks flew from a pair of magenta eyes, “Is that all the Queen has to offer?” 

Esencia narrowed her eyes. Oberon was a servant, not a drone. She did not need a facial recognition program to inform her who the man was.  

Dressed in white, Dominator had six drones and a pair of circular ones following him the way Moby and Remy did for her. Using his drones as a makeshift seat, the man crossed his legs and ground his heels against what was left of Oberon’s faceplate. The black portion was scraped to expose melted circuits and snapped wires. 

“Didn’t I tell you I would take on the Queen?” Dominator pulled Anemos up from the floor, “The fox is all yours.” 

“Leaving her to me and Raven?” Anemos was not as impressed. 

“It takes time to set up the perfect experiment,” the scientist waved his hand. “Wouldn’t you agree, Eve?” 

Her circuits ran hot in response to his intonation. Dominator talked more than Bringer by a wide margin. Regardless, she held the same emotion as she did with the brawler who proclaimed himself to be a Nasod engineer. Irritation flared from Esencia’s emotion control circuit before she had the time to rein back control on irrational thoughts. 

Dominator mentioned a fox. Apsara was a target to the opposite El Search Party because of Eun. They viewed her as an obstruction from confronting the martial artist and sent Dominator to fight her. Leaving the Nasod specialist to fight the Nasod queen was a logical decision on their part. Oberon was no longer in service, but Esencia still had her servants and her friends. That would be enough to sustain herself.       

“No response?” Dominator chuckled darkly, “That’s fine. The priest told me about your new drones. Let’s see how they fare in an experiment.”  

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

Rune Master

“How many were injured?” Empire spoke into her mic in a hushed tone, whispering words not meant for anyone to hear. “Is everyone all right?” 

Rune leaned inward, yearning to listen to the conversation the red-haired knight had with their - her teammates. They looked like his friends, something he was still scrambling to piece together with as much grace as one could in his situation. He wasn’t going to pretend that he understood why there were two El Search Parties, but he knew that Empire was concerned for the well-being of her friends. Empire wouldn’t be his big sister if she wasn’t as caring and took responsibility for the pain of others. 

A cold chill ran over Rune’s pores, a cool breeze rustled the leaves from the tree trunk where he laid his head to rest. If he gazed at the sky, he could have identified all of the constellations overhead. The stars’ alignments shifted from their positions in Elrios, but they were recognizable once he adjusted his perspective of them. 

“I’m here if you need to talk.” Empire’s voice rang in his head.  

Ever since he confronted Solace and gave himself to the El, he gained newfound sensitivity to everyone’s wavelengths. He saw colored lines connecting the users to the source. Although he wasn’t as adept in detecting and differentiating El resonance as Richter, Rune knew as soon as he met Knight. They ran on the same wavelength, a red spark formed between the two before violently torn apart by the demon encounter. 

“Why do you talk to me like I’m him?” he asked.   

Rune reached for his communicator, toying with the white device clipped between his jacket sleeve. The thin purple highlights shone innocently under the moonlight. His sister’s counterpart was occupied with her own conversation and the rest of the group were tending to their wounds from the previous fight. This was his chance to contact his friends and make a run for it. He needed to let them know where he was. 

“But you are him.” 

Was he? Rune was no longer sure. He may have shared the same El resonance as Knight, but did he use it to its full potential? His father and sister trained him the way of the sword, only for Rune to pursue magic in their absence. Knight stayed true to his ways and became a Velder knight, never losing sight of the dreams Rune abandoned in Elder.    

“Knowing that I’m not him, you still hold me captive?” Rune lowered his head, “That’s selfish of you.” 

Rune knew he hit a sore spot because Empire flinched from the disdain in his tone. Captive was a strong word, but being tossed over Rage’s shoulder like a rag doll without his say in the matter wasn’t exactly something he was gung-ho about either. Who would have thought Blade’s counterpart could make impulsive decisions on the fly without making a lecture out of it? 

“You’re the last person Elsword talked to.” Empire whispered, “Any clues about his whereabouts would help.” 

So they were going to keep him here until he spilled the beans or when they found the poster boy for heroism? Rune didn’t like it. Weapons were drawn and emotions ran high. As long as Knight was absent, any words of reason would fall into deaf ears.  

Slipping away now was a possibility, but it was a fool’s plan if Rune wanted to be outnumbered and outpowered. In unknown territory infested with demons, the odds were against him if he wanted a successful escape. Although the group was four members short, seven people remained. It was best to stay low and wait until his friends could find him. Ultimate and Dominator had the technology to track him and Richter, Abysser, and Timoria had their keen senses.         

“I know you’re not happy but…” Empire choked, “Please. He’s my brother.” 

Rune bit his lips. He was awful at saying no to his sister. She just wanted to see her brother again. How could Rune deny her that when he went through the same pain? Knight gave it his all and pushed him away in exchange for his livelihood, an act of selflessness he had clearly learned from his sister. It was a weakness that was going to be exploited against him one day, Rune looked up in exasperation. 

How hard could it be to find a redhead in a dimension where everything came in shades of blue and purple? If Knight was anything like him, he wouldn’t stay quiet for long and cause havoc to whoever was unfortunate enough to kidnap him. Rune had doubts Knight was one to stay put without fighting back. The rune user wasn’t even aware of Knight’s existence until hours ago, yet it had become easy to accept his other self after the initial shock.   

Rune did what he could to be discreet in turning on his communicator without making it obvious. No need to alert the El Search Party that he was making a call. He saw Knight’s friends using similar devices as his, identical in everything but the color schemes.   

“Come on, work!” Rune mumbled to his communicator. 

It worked fine when they were in Elrianode. Why did it lose connection now? Was it the high concentration of Dark El or demonic energy? He allowed the device to flicker to life and stayed still. Static filled his eardrums as he struggled to find a connection. No luck.  

Was there no other way to contact his friends? Rune looked at the device in defeat, pondering if smacking it by the side would fix it. Dominator would probably yell at him for that, but at least he’ll get a good laugh out of it.    

“Elsword?” 

“Ack!” Rune tossed his communicator in the air, juggling it between his two hands before stuffing it in his jacket pocket. His shoulders relaxed when he saw a pair of eyes the color of the Hamel sea. “Hi, uh… Chung. What’s up?” 

“Do you mind if I join?” Crusader pointed at the patch of grass beside Rune, “We won’t be moving until everyone is well-rested.” 

Rune shook his head, biting the side of his cheek. What was he going to do? Say no and tell Crusader to go elsewhere? Discomfort edged in the back of his mind at the thought of shooing the other male away. He scooted to the side and made room for the guardian, pulling his legs into a criss-cross with his arms on his lap. Next to the full armored Crusader, Rune felt naked and exposed to the elements in his unbuttoned white jacket. 

Phantom once explained to Rune about the material used for the armor Hamel soldiers donned in combat. There was a science in making the white armor durable enough to absorb damage in battles, but light enough for the wearer to stay on their toes and avoid detection by the enemy. The armor and destroyer made Crusader reminiscent to Helputt, who Rune had met briefly before he left to fend off the demon army. Would Phantom still have a father if their party found the elder Seiker earlier?   

“I’m sorry about how I’ve been treating you.” Crusader rested his cannon against the tree trunk. “I should have listened to you and now we’re in this mess.”

“I’m not sure if that would make a difference,” Rune closed his eyes. “Carrying me off without an explanation isn’t a well-thought plan.” 

Crusader stared at the rune user but agreed, “I guess not…” 

“Never thought Raven was the impulsive type.” 

“What is he?” 

Rune grinned, “a bird.”

“I’m being serious,” the guardian deadpanned.  

“How can you say I wasn’t?” Rune covered his chest with one gloved hand, “that really hurt. I thought we had something together.” 

Crusader turned his head away and let out a quiet huff, sweeping his bangs to the side. He wasn’t going to ignore Rune, was he? Not even an acknowledgment of his ridiculous statement? Phantom would have thought it was funny, Rune looked at the guardian in disbelief. 

A pointed hair ornament held his ponytail together and gave the guardian a regal look like the princes that lived inside Rune’s storybooks. His facial features were Phantom’s, yet they were different. Was it because Rune was aware that this was not the Chung he traveled with? Or was it because Crusader held caution in approaching him as if he was an abnormality? Someone to be wary of?  

“Why are you in Demon Realm?” Crusader asked. 

“Can’t a guy take a scenic stroll?” Rune dropped his smile when he realized he wasn’t going to get a response from Crusader until he dropped the facade. “It’s the same reason as your Elsword. We’re looking for information about the Dark El and the El is unstabilized again because of me.”

“The El,” he echoed. Recognition flashed in Crusader’s face, horror and guilt pained in his eyes. “Unstable because of you? Elsword, that isn’t your fault-”

 “Call me Rune,” he interrupted. Rune was not going to deal with the confusion of two Elswords if they were going to talk about him. It hurt to see Phantom’s look-alike show undeserved solemnity for a carbon-copy of their leader.  

“You’re just as foolish as him,” Crusader said without venom. “Don’t take the blame for everything when it’s our fault too.”

Ah, this conversation again. He could feel Crusader’s fixed stare into the back of his neck. It wasn’t fair feeling complacent in talking to a man who looked so much like Phantom. So serious, yet had his emotions out on display like a playbook. Rune almost felt guilty for toying with him.   

“That’s what he said, too.” Rune let out a genuine laugh, “Did Elsword succeed?” Rune was hopeful. Did Knight find a way to stabilize the El without a human vessel?  

“No, the El is unstable.” 

His heart dropped. Nothing was different from his timeline? Rune glanced over to where the rest of the El Search Party were. Moonlight shone across to where he and Crusader sat, just enough for Rune to make out the figures dressed in green, red, purple, and black huddled together. That must be Daybreaker talking to Empire and Rage. Their shadows leaned against the base of an overhauling tree lined by fluorescent moss. Rune could barely make out Doom Bringer’s silhouette with his weapons floating beside the brawler. Flowers bigger than them curled at the end of their sharp-edge petals, roots scrawled over the damp floor.  

Crusader turned his attention to where Rune’s was. Sitting at the base of the tree was Aether talking to Bluhen. The two had their heads close together, moving their lips in inaudible exchanges. Their quiet murmurs filled the emptiness between the deep parts of the forest. Crusader’s his eyes crinkling when he saw Aether explain something to Bluhen. 

Don’t be stupid, Rune scowled. That’s not Phantom. He and Oz have done collaborations in the past, but he didn’t see her like that. Phantom wasn’t interested in… No matter how similar they were, Crusader didn’t choose to become an assassin. They couldn’t be any more different. No need to get frustrated. 

“Is something wrong?” Crusader turned to face Rune.  

Rune held an unsteady gaze at the blond man, searching for signs of Phantom in the guardian. Same complexion and body structure, although it was hard to tell with the heavy armor plates. 

“Your crown thing,” Rune pointed at the hair ornament sitting at the back of Crusader’s head where the ponytail started. “It’s falling off.”  

“Oh, you mean this?” Crusader tugged and pulled it out. He ran the comb teeth through his hair, tucking it back and pulling his hair to make sure it stayed there. “Wow, you have an eye for this. Thanks!”            

“Sure,” Rune hated how hollow he sounded. The redhead sighed, “Doesn’t it bother you that both of us failed to stabilize the El?”

“It was our decision to rescue Elsword.” Crusader’s expression remained kind and patient. “Even if it meant risking the world, he meant more to us than the El.” 

“Placing your trust into one guy,” Rune tilted his head. “Is that a wise decision?”    

“Are we talking about you or Elsword?” Crusader asked. 

“Both.”  

Forget about holding accountability for a party of twelve. Rune never asked to be placed with the responsibility to keep the world in balance. He was no longer the awkward teenager searching for an adventure and place in the world, but doubt in himself remained. Why him? There were knights and soldiers more capable than him!  

“You’re not the only one searching for ways to keep the El alive.” Crusader got on his feet and offered a hand to Rune, “You have friends to help.” 

Rune accepted the male’s hand and was pulled up to his toes, shaking his legs from a bad case of pins and needles. “How do you know they don’t hate me for pulling them into all this?” 

“I don’t,” Crusader admitted. “But if they followed you into Demon Realm, I doubt they do.” He stole a glance at Aether again to see the mage leaving, “Let’s head back. Everyone’s waiting for us.”

“Thanks for the talk,” Rune looked at his scarless hands. How did Bluhen do it? He should ask if Richter could do the same. “I needed it.” 

The guardian smiled, “That’s what friends are for.” 

But we just met, was caught in the back of Rune’s throat when Crusader smiled. The rune user ducked his head and ran to catch up to the El Search Party crowding beside a giant flowering plant for shelter. He was surrounded by familiar faces, yet they were all new to him. Rune took a deep breath. The sooner he helped them find Knight, the closer he was to return to his friends. What a mess. 

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

Dominator 

Collecting battle data from their opponents was panning out to be better than Dominator ever could have hoped for. The butler and his demon brat were occupied by a disgruntled priest with no tack. Thanks to Anemos, the queen was worn down and allowed Dominator to come in and take down one of her main Nasods. Blade’s plan was to pull away three of the opposing team’s long-ranged fighters to reveal Apsara’s blind spots.  

“Don’t tell me this Nasod is all you have.” 

Dominator grabbed a broken Nasod arm and tossed it to the rest of the white armored Nasod beneath his feet. Disappointing. Has Esencia gone weak from the security of relying on her servants? Richter said she had more Nasods under her disposal. Where were they? 

“Oberon is a servant,” Esencia glared.   

“My apologies,” Dominator said with amusement. 

How interesting. The queen saw her subjects as sentient beings despite being their creator and programmer. Had Esencia been an organic lifeform, Dominator suspected she would have broken into angry tears over the damage he had done to the Nasod.    

“Ophelia!” Esencia ordered her servant, “Assault Spear!” 

Another Nasod rose from the ground with a spear almost twice her height. Ophelia, was it? Weapon pointing downward, Ophelia descended. Dynamo blocked most of the impact, shielding him from the attack. Pressured strained against Dominator, placing his weight to the back of his feet and gritting his teeth. 

Dominator gagged as dust and debris settled around him. It was going to take hours for him to wash out the dirt after this, he scowled. No matter, this battle should be easy. His eyes landed over to Ophelia, who had sparks flying from her forearms and one leg pulled back into a fighting stance. Just a little further and he should have enough information on the Nasod servant. 

“Drone Activator!” The tracking device shot in the form of missiles, aiming for Esencia. 

Ophelia dashed to take the hit for her queen. The device latched onto the Nasod’s stomach and flashed purple to signal the target’s location. Dominator reached for his panel as Dynamo alerted him on his opponent’s presence. Blood trickled down his leg as Dominator caught Esencia firing electric shocks alongside her Nasods. His vision went red as Dominator experienced high voltage of electricity traveling through his body. 

Dominator snarled and bared his teeth. He wasn’t going to let Dynamo and his armor reach their limits before passing out. Not when he was close to acquiring data on another model of Eve. Sparks flew from Dynamo as Dominator installed a set of drones at his feet. Lasers fired and rained down on his opponents, casting harsh lighting against the dense forest.     

Launching herself up into the air, Esencia fired electron balls as she glided away from the explosion. Electric currents shot from Ophelia’s forearms before her exterior was decimated by the heat from Dominator’s Starfall. The Nasod’s outer shell cracked before she was recalled by Esencia. 

“Impressive,” Dominator stopped to catch his breath. His face stung from the bleeding, how troublesome. “You have separate Nasod units to address your limitations in battles and your powers are still functional. I wouldn’t expect less from the Nasod queen.”

Esencia had a core hidden behind her bangs. It shone a brilliant light despite the accumulating scratches from the current and previous battles. Most Nasods would have lasted in half the time Esencia did in their fight, but it helped when she had an array of servants to fight for her.  

“Surely you have something to say,” Dominator rubbed his chin. “Don’t you have questions to why you are no longer the only Nasod queen? Do you realize that means there are multiple timelines existing in different dimensions?” 

“Be quiet,” Esencia said. “Unless you know where Elsword is, discussing this is pointless.” 

“The red menace?” Dominator snorted, “Don’t make me laugh! You have him. I am-”

“Annoying,” Esencia looked down at the scientist. “You talk a lot.” 

Ouch. 

“Blunt as ever, I see.” Dominator wiped the blood trickling his mouth with his sleeve and grinned. “Why are you fighting me then? Certainly not because you want to listen to my lovely voice.” 

“Elsword is missing and was last seen with yours.” 

“An idiot attracting another idiot,” Dominator commented.

Learning that Rune cooperated with the other Elsword was valuable information the El Search Party would find helpful. The scientist froze when he saw a shadow from above, a giant mechanical arm summoned over Dominator’s head. It slammed into the ground, sending seismic waves vibrating through the ground. 

Heaven’s Fist missed Dominator by mere inches as he phase shifted to a higher place. Rocks shot from the ground up and tossed him around, applying pressure and shoving him to the side. His body protested in the rough treatment and to the metallic taste in his mouth as Dominator crawled on his fours.  

“Don’t be rude,” Esencia glared.  

Looks like he hit a sore spot when it concerned the opposing team’s Elbrat.       

“Apocalypse!”

Screens surrounded Dominator before he summoned Nasod cubes to unionize into one several times their size. They moved together as a unit and followed their master in search of a target. Individual cubes rearranged themselves to resemble a flower. Apocalypse shot lasers from the end of its petals and fired missiles. They exploded as they came into contact with an invisible dome protecting Esencia.  

A shadowed figure formed from the dust. Esencia’s third Nasod assistant wore a white trench coat over a pair of black boots with a gold visor hiding his eyes. He landed feet first with his head lowered, bowing to Esencia and wielding a blade. Nasods obey their creators, but the ones under Esencia’s command treated her like their ruler. Were their codes based on human behavior or was it simply them recognizing Esencia as the Nasod queen? 

“Ferdinand, battle mode!” Esencia cried. 

The Nasod dashed forward, electric currents traveled through his blade and struck. Sparks clashed between Ferdinand’s blade and Dynamo, absorbing the impact and reflecting electric shocks to the Nasod. Apocalypse fired a particle beam at the Nasod, forcing Ferdinand to recede from Dominator.    

Dominator summoned a drone and activated it midair. A black hole formed around the drones and caused an air suction, pulling the Nasod servant and his queen away from the ground. He launched a drone and attached it to his target. Numbers appeared on Dominator’s screen in a countdown only visible to the scientist. The smell of burning metal filled his nostrils as the explosives set off on Esencia’s body and stunned the ruler. Charged Impulser released its hold and Esencia collapsed to the floor.  

Apocalypse hovered over the scientist and pointed the particle cannon to Ferdinand. Good, cube. Esencia’s Nasod servant zipped through the air with acrobatic grace, evading lasers and missiles from the destructive cube. Apocalypse trailed behind Ferdinand, nipping at his heels for lack of better wording.      

“What’s wrong, Eve?” Dominator taunted, “Did you run out of servants to fight for you?” 

It was interesting to note the destructive code’s absence in Esencia. Was the queen aware of the ancient code? Or did this timeline fail to raise the factors that could have pushed Esencia into becoming a destructive Nasod as Ultimate did? Not only did her appearance contrast Ultimate’s, but her stamina and how she fought suggested that her codes were a variation from her counterpart.    

Wait. Dominator turned his heels at a realization and checked his scans. His eyes widened. Esencia was still active. A lone figure blurred, too fast for his eyes to have time to come into focus. Electric currents crackled from the edge of Ferdinand’s blade. Hot pain erupted from Dominator’s body, red spots dotted and bled into his vision. Lightning struck his body and traveled down his chest. Dominator hissed in pain, closing his eyes shut and hugging his shoulder blade where Ferdinand had struck. His body shook, gloved hands drenched in blood and sweat. Dominator ignored Dynamo’s alerts flooding his screens.

Damn you, Eve.

Dynamo huddled together in defense when Dominator turned to face Esencia’s Nasod. Ferdinand raised his blade and swung past where Dominator’s head once was, turning to strike again before the Nasod’s body shone in bright light. Ferdinand’s body shuddered, his movements churned into a sluggish response before the Nasod vanished from sight. 

Dominator checked for Apocalypse’s status. Datalog said it wasn’t Apocalypse that forced Ferdinand to shutdown. Unless… The scientist pushed his screens aside and looked at where the queen was supposed to be.      

Esencia remained laid down with her porcelain face to the side and visible cracks on her body. She was in sleep mode and was conserving energy from a forced shut down. Her long figure was hidden by layers of a white gown smeared by red demonic dirt. A bulk of metal stuck out from her ribs at an odd angle, coming close to jabbing into someone’s leg. The elf had her foot over Esencia’s chest and rested her chin over one knee.     

Blood gushed from his shoulder and Dominator’s face turned red, moving his arms so he could use his jacket to stop it from further bleeding. The blood was going to seep through his clothes and he would have to wash it again. How troublesome. His stomach churned when she placed a hand over his arm.  

“How much does it hurt?” Anemos asked. “Are you okay with sitting?”

Dominator nodded, forcing himself to speak. “Ha, the queen is no pushover.” 

The elf supported his back with her hand and ushered him to rest against a tree trunk, lowering his body and making sure Dominator kept his balance. He closed his eyes shut and breathed through his mouth. It stung when he stretched his shoulders for Anemos to inspect. 

Anemos produced a thermos in her hand, twisting the top and opening to reveal crystalline liquid filled to the brim. A strange flower laid at the bottom of the thermos - white petals blooming out of its blue center. Steeped in boiling water for hours at a time, it had a bitter herbal taste that refused to leave Dominator’s mouth after taking a gulp with a pinched nose. It was a disgusting concoction (“Everything’s edible once you heat them up!” Ignia said with a wink.), but it somewhat lessened the pain by numbing his nerves.  

Dominator looked ahead, refusing to look as Anemos opened his bag. No matter how many battles he fought, he couldn’t stand the sight of blood on his own body. It reminded him too much of old memories he wanted to forget.   

He smelled the ointment she used for all occasions and applied pressure to the wound with a cotton ball. Mental images of a woman with white hair and gentle eyes flashed in his mind. The scientist fluttered his eyes open, careful not to move too much unless he wanted to feel his tendons sting. 

“I found valuable information that may help us,” Dominator blurted. “Elbrat was seen with theirs.” 

“The other Elsword?” Anemos added another cottonball to soak up the blood. She pulled out a bandage to wrap around his shoulder blade. “I did hear something about that, but I didn’t see anyone else with Elsword.” 

“Theirs have gone missing too,” he added. “Taking the brat as a replacement, huh? Ow!”

“I don’t think so,” Anemos tightened the bandage and sighed. “Their Eve mentioned looking for their Elsword even though ours is with them. They might have thought Elsword could help find him.” 

Hey, that was painful! She could have cut his blood circulation! Dominator directed his glares to the older woman, hoping she would recognize his annoyance and feel guilty. Anemos threw him a deadpan expression and might as well have shrugged, Nice try, Add. 

“Elsword this, Elsword that.” Dominator grumbled, “It’s always about that kid. We might as well find him ourselves so we can trade, I guess. Use him as a bargaining chip. Brat for a brat.”     

“We can do that,” Anemos had a thoughtful expression. “Are you telling the others?” 

The scientist covered a part of his face with one hand. “I didn’t think we were going to search for two. Are we spreading ourselves too thin?”   

“Let’s focus on finding their Elsword since we already know ours is with them.” 

Dominator snorted, “we’re going to need nicknames if we’re going to keep talking about them.” 

“Isn’t this something you enjoy talking about?” She asked. Anemos tucked in the ends of the bandage and washed her hands with water from a water bottle.  

“Yes,” Dominator chuckled with a smile. “Inconvenient, but fascinating nonetheless.”  

He saw Anemos shaking her head with no foul intent, a look of wonder she held when she didn’t quite understand what he was talking about. It didn’t bother him. No one in the El Search Party besides Ultimate had a true grasp of what he did. Ultimate wasn’t much of a conversationalist and Rune was more likely to ask him questions about his research than the Nasod queen herself. Hm, it was quiet without the red punk to fill the silence with his pointless chatter.

“Eat up,” Anemos offered him a tart, topped with vanilla buttercream frosting and jam made from Elysion’s star fruit. “You need to heal.”  

“They won’t be happy once they find her,” Dominator stole a glance to where Esencia laid. 

Restoring Esencia wasn’t his responsibility, but Dominator had a feeling the other El Search Party will try to make him do it anyway. Ugh. Nothing a few hours of repair couldn’t fix once she regained power, but he was worried. To his knowledge, Blade and Richter were still fighting if they hadn't returned or contacted them. 

“Let’s focus on getting back to Ain and Raven,” Anemos said. “They need our help.” 

The Star Fruit Tart kept its shape when Dominator broke it at the center to take a bite, a sweet but citrusy taste. He stuffed another tart into his mouth, snickering when Anemos shook her head again but smiled. Collecting battle data for the fox and the demons were worth the investigation. Fighting their teammates’ alternates was going to be interesting, Dominator mused. He left Esencia sitting upright against a flowering plant with her eyes closed before joining Anemos with Dynamo behind his heels.   

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

Author Notes: Thank you for being so patient with me. Life has been busy for the past few months and I realized that the year is almost done. I will try my best to continue writing the later chapters in between busy hours. I miss writing these characters and I’m thankful for those who still stick around to read my works.

[taesbetch]

04| Blood//Water

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Gory, Smut (eventually) Mafia!AU

Summary: Taehyungs life has become consumed with the gang lifestyle. But when he becomes a bit too greedy he endangers the only person he's ever truly cared about. Fighting fire with fire is never a good idea, but Taehyung is lit match in a room full of gasoline, will everyone make it out unburnt?

Word Count: 1.8k

(it's short because I'm working on some new stuff and this is another filler chap for next week  - :))) still hope you like it also my goddamn tag list deleted itself IM SO SORRY! )

Previous | 

Previously...

“why won’t you just let me die, I don’t want to do this anymore” You whimpered. Your eyes burned and your lungs were ready to give out. Taehyung turned you around, holding your cheek with one hand and your body in the other.

“because I love you” He stated in all seriousness. Before letting you register what he said he pressed his lips against yours giving you a harsh peck as you made muffled noises in protest.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You yelled as you pushed him away from you.

“You kill my friends and then tell me you love me!” you yelled as you looked at him in disgust.

“Don’t fucking kiss me again” you hissed as you swam to shore, knowing there was no other way to escape, it was either swim forever or go back and replan. You shot taehyung a look as hoseok helped you out, the boy didn’t seem bothered with your words of hatred….and that concerned you…

He really was a monster with no regard for others…

“I told you. to leave me. Alone” You huffed as you glared at the mafia leader who sat in the comer of your room, his eyes watching your standing figure intensely as the edges of his lips raised.

“Well, who else is going to make sure you don’t escape again?” He stated, winking at you whilst you glared back. You couldn’t help but feel a pit of anger bubble in your stomach ass you watched him get comfortable.

“why can’t you just tell me how you know me. This is getting ridiculous” You hissed as you sat on your bed, arms crossed with a pout. Taehyung shot you a look as you waited for him to explain himself.

“Because that’s not fun” He sighed. He clicked his tongue before getting up, making his way over to the space next to you. You tried to shoo him away from you, but your hands were grabbed harshly by taehyung.

“Don’t be rude sweetheart” He hissed.

You looked at him in shock as he removed his hands from your wrist. His eyes never left yours as he tried to push some hair out of your face, though you jerked away you couldn’t help but feel afraid to push his hands away again, there was something about the way he interacted with you now. a new-found confidence almost. He wasn’t scared to act as he would anymore, almost accepting your judgement of him

“You really don’t remember anything. Anything at all?” He asked as you stiffened at his touch. You relaxed as he pulled away shooting a glare his way before clearing your throat. Your mind instantly flashed to back at the docks when a brief memory had infiltrated your focus.

“no. I don’t remember anything” You whispered, your eyes flicking away from his. Hearing him huff in disappointment your eyes slowly found his, his eyes piercing into your soul as he blatantly saw through your lie.

“I won’t tell you, but I can help you remember more” He smirked, his eyes glimmering with excitement as his lip twitched into a smirk. You looked at him questioningly, knowing you were playing with fire.

“Well…I would like to know” You mumbled nervously, not knowing how exactly he was going to help you. a cheeky smile made its way on his face as you scooted further onto your bed

“Do you want to remember, do you really?”  he asked, his voice lowering further than you thought possible. Your eyes scanned his looking for some dark altera motive to his suggestion, but you couldn’t find one, instead, you just found pure excitement. You hummed in response, clearly nervous but you wanted to know why the troublesome boy had entered your life.

“I can help you, but you’ll have to trust me” he stated, his eyes narrowing as you scoffed in response

“Trust you? like hell, you murdered my friends in front of me” you responded, trying not to let the emotions of the night flood into the day.

“You were supposed to get into the car and who needs friends anyway,” he said non-chalantly, his tone to cheery for the subject he was talking about.

“What the fuck is wrong with you” you whispered, shaking your head as you couldn’t contain the look of disgust that covered your face.

“let’s find out, lay down”

You bite your lip wondering if you should or not, you knew he didn’t have intentions of hurting you but seeing what he was capable of was enough to have you shaking.

Laying down your eyes constantly flickered from the ceiling to taehyung.

“are you ready?” he asked as his eyes racked your lying figure.

“no but…whatever” you huffed, getting ready for instructions on what to do next.

“Close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice” He said. You fluttered your eyes closed, taehyung’s words echoing in your ears.

You let your body relax as taehyung kept talking, his sultry voice helping your mind slip.

“let your mind slip, remember what you can and not what you want to” He stated. Though being hypnotised was not what you expected, it seemed to be working, even though you tried to fight it, your memory was doing its best to comply to taehyung’s demand.

“wow” You whispered as you appeared in your past, the streets

“where are you?” taehyung asked, his voice holding the same hypnotic tone.

“I don’t know yet... its night time, it feels like not that long ago” you panted as your heart rate accelerated

“your panting, why?” he asked as you felt your body temperature drop, sweat started dropping from your pores as you started realising what you were re-experiencing.

“I’m scared…its…it’s the night I met you…the man in the alleyway, he’s becoming clearer” you huffed as you remember his voice “so you his princess”. You head tried to adjust the lighting of your memory, zooming in and out to try and get a better look of the man in the dark.

“the man, he’s got red hair, his shoes…. their covered in mud? Red dust? I can’t tell “you said as you scanned the man. your heart flew to your throat as you realised what was in his hand.

his fingers were wrapped around a gun, his eyes piercing through your head as he slowly raised it. Though something stopped him, his eyes widened as he stared at you closely, his arm lowering as he huffed, letting you run away even though he had a perfect opportunity to kill you right then and then.

The man wore a jacket, almost a disguise, his jacket holding a mountain logo.

“He could’ve killed me” You panted as you felt the fear of the night “He’s wearing a jacket with a mountain logo on it, it looks like a disguise but…something seems off about his attire” You said, ignoring the way your eyes watered and your body shook.

“Stop.” Taehyung commanded.

Your eyes shoot. Though you were brought back to the present you couldn’t help but see flashes of your past. The detail slowly slipped away, leading you to grasp at the last pieces of information you could.

“why did you do that” You whispered as you tried to compose yourself

“Look at you, you're to shaken up, we all know what happened next, like hell id let you relive that. Even though what I got wasn’t what I put you under for – I have enough information. I can’t believe I haven’t thought about doing this before” He sighed.

“Of course, how did I not see that sooner” He added with a head shake as he pulled out his phone. His fingers typing away as he sighed once more.

“what did you get? What’s going on?” You asked as he put his phone back in his phone.

“we had some speculation’s on where the base of the block boys drug cartel was. Your little memory jog has just confirmed it. Those bastards are using the mountains as their hiding spot, going undercover as the digger company that works up there. If we can destroy their drug business, we can destroy them. Simple. “ He explained.

“are you sure that’s a good idea?” You asked, your body still reacting as if it were living the past. “Isn’t that how we got in this mess in the first place? You messing with people?”

A chuckle escaped his lips as he walked closer to you, making you feel uncomfortable at the different levels the two of you were at, You sitting on the bed and he standing over you.

“Oh, my little princess, I don’t mess with people. I destroy them. if they want to play with fire then by all means, I’m up for a fight” He shrugged as that darn smirk appeared on his face again.

Taehyung started moving away from you and towards the door, the way he walked signifying that someone was about to get it.

“Hey wait! I still wanna know how we know each other!” you yelled out as he placed his hand on the door knob.

Taehyung stopped, his body was still as he thought about what to do.

“your reaction to that memory…I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to remember me.” He said, his voice deep and serious, no sign of the sarcastic psycho you had been talking to previously.

You looked at the back of his head, disappointment and confusion flooded your mind as the boy swiftly left your room.

“Hurt?” you whispered to your self as you had finally recovered from your visit to the past.

You lay yourself down, trying to dig into your past. Though everything was blurry you knew exactly where things stopped getting blurry.

“Mum?” you whispered. The car ride was silent the tension between your two parents evident as you came to you senses. It almost felt like you had wiped clean, the last thing you remembered was playing on your front lawn with your dolls and your noticeably happier mother.

“Hey y/n, don’t worry everything is okay now, go back to sleep honey” She had said as she turned to you, though you were young you could tell she had been crying for what looked like days, the bags under her eyes were as clear as day as her skin was frost white.

You hummed in response to your mum, noticing how your dad wouldn’t look at you but ignoring it as the man was driving.

From a happy family to that…everything in between was missing and though you tried to remember before, today you felt different.

But alas, as you tried to dive into your subconscious and unravel its secrets you couldn’t, it was as if a barricade was keeping you from the parts of your life you were so curious about.

sighing you gave it a rest… you had other things to worry about.

[thechocobros]

My little (not so little) Kingdom Hearts III’s review :)

(possible spoilers under the cut)

Somebody asked for my personal opinion about the game, so, here I am! I’ll try to be as objective as possible, even if you probably know already my deep affection for this saga and for its creators XD

Let’s start with the positive things, the things that really impressed me the most about KH3, which are: the graphic (even the in-game one), the gameplay, the huge amount of enjoyable exploration. And then I’ll start voting the rest, by giving my opinion. 

 - Graphic: 10/10. I was able to see the pores on Sora’s face and on Terra’s hands. I was able to zoom on the smallest details with my Gummiphone and still find some amazing details in the landscape. Literally EVERYTHING was so well done i had to stop more than once to admire what i was playing. It was stunning. Let’s not even talk about the Disney cutscenes, because those were a masterpiece and i have no words to describe them. 

- Gameplay: 10/10. Listen, i never played a game where there were so MANY options for the gameplay. I beated the 13 darknesses by using attractions, limits, different forms, combined moves, special abilities, combos, different keyblades ... There were so many minigames, ideas, i fought on Baymax, i fought as a captain of a ship, i cooked, I did treasure hunts, took pictures, the gummiship style too ... every fricking world offered so many different gameplays options i even freaked out because i wasn’t able to learn them all. It was so FUN!

- Exploration; 10/10. Let’s be real, every world (except Twilight Town lol) was as huge as all the Disney worlds of the previous KH games together. Really, i was lost. It was even too much. It will take me a lifetime to explore all the worlds in all its beautiful details xD for ex in the POTC’s world we are able to access to at least 6 different islands + Port Royal + underwater + the battles setting + we command an entire sailing ship. Also, have you try to collect all the lucky emblems? Because I think they all are in some areas i still don’t know they exist. It was AMAZING. 

- Music: 8/10. I love “Face my fears” so much, i like “Don’t think twice” a lot, Utada is always a queen. As for Yoko, she never dissapoints me either, even though this time she didn’t came out with “new” brilliant melodies like she did in the other games. She mostly arranged differently songs and themes we already were familiar with, which is nostalgic and happily welcomed anyway. + Bonus Points to Somnus song mixed together with Hikari. Wow. 

- Plot twists/Surprise/content/plot elements: 8.5/10. Every Kingdom Hearts game needs a huge amount of “WHAt-THE-moments” and KH3 makes no exception. The final battles and the endings were a concentrated of twists and turns, starting from Yen Sid, to Ephemer, from Sora dying (like twice, during this game? the last one almost got me tho), to Kairi dying, from Xigbar’s real identity to Yozora officially inserted in KH’s main plot etc etc. It was a rollercoaster. And I loved it. Funny enough, the only “secret” that didn’t feel like a “secret” was the “secret” that Nomura defined the “biggest secret” XD ... aka Roxas xD I mean, they talked about making a replica for Roxas all the game long, so when Roxas actually appeared and claimed that Vexen made a replica for him, i was like ... yeah, thanks, that’s not a brand new information xD Talking about Vexen, him and the rest of the Organization had some really nice surprising elements, their story was worthy. 

- The narrative/structure/pace: 6.5/10. Ok, here’s the thing. Even if the actual story content was interesting and pretty good, there were problems in the pace and we all hardcore fans noticed it. Why was that? Because they changed some things they shouldn’t have changed in order to give more space to Disney worlds. 

For ex, I’m talking about the fact that we started our adventure in ... the Olympus world. I have nothing against that world of course. But in KH1 we started in Destiny Islands/Traverse Town. In KH2 we started in Twilight Town. In KHBBS we started in the Land of the Departure. In KH3 we should have respected traditions and start from an original world. Why? Because original worlds are strictly connected to the original characters’ development + main plot. By making Sora starting in a Disney world, they cut out an extremely important part in the KH3 story’s development, aka the very own basis. And  no, Twilight Town arrived 3 hours later, and was half as big as the other Disney worlds, so it doesn’t really stand the competion. 

  So, by putting so many Disney worlds and cutting out the original worlds, they confused the storyline’s pace. The actual story’s progression was reduced to some cutscenes between a world and another which is ... not a really good idea. We needed at least one or two more playable original worlds somewhere there in between, like KH2 had Radiant Garden and KH1 had Traverse Town, so that the story could have been developed  and the characters would have been able to meet and interact properly.

  In fact, the biggest problem is that the entire main plot is rushed in the last hours of the game. 35 hours of funny happy Disney gameplay. 5 hours of actual plot. It’s not balanced. The player didn’t feel the rising pressure for the final battle of light against darkness. No matter how epic the Keyblade War actually was, of course it felt a bit rushed, because it popped out all of a sudden and wasn’t smoothly inserted from the beginning of the game. 

  I can actually justify this choice though: KH3′s purpose was to give a conclusion to Xehanort’s saga. Which means they didn’t plan to develop the story or the characters more than what they already had in the previous games. They just wanted to show a proper “conclusion”. Not “development”. 

  It’s not the choice i would have taken in terms of storytelling, but it’s an option so i’m not really angry about it. It worked anyway because almost all the characters really had a solid background plot. .... almost. Which sadly leads to the sore point of the game. Here we go.

- Characters development: 7/10. Kingdom Hearts has a large quantity of very developed characters. Kingdom Hearts’ original characters are the ones who entered in out hearts years ago and we love them for a reason. They’re all well characterized, with specific strengths and weaknesses. Which means that no matter how weird the pace of KH3 could have been, the characters have been so well written in the previous games that they were able to tollerate everything in terms or story telling. Sora, Riku, Aqua, Roxas, Axel, Ventus, Xion, Terra, Naminè .... they all had a major role in KH’s plot on their shoulders and unique facets. But one character was strongly penalized by this the rhythm of KH3: Kairi. 

  Unlike most of the other characters that belong to the famous trios, Kairi could never count on a strong background, nor a good characterization. 

  Even though i liked her in KH1 (where she at least interacted with both Sora and Riku multiple times and had a part in the main plot, even if she was comatose for 80% of the time), it’s not a secret that she got benched immediately after that. KH2 didn’t make her justice with all that being kidnapped, and in the next games she completely dissapeared even. She was never involved in the story ever again. What am i referring to?

  In Birth By Sleep, only Sora and Riku met all the members of the wayfinder trio and played an actual part in their lives. Kairi barely meet Aqua once, and never played an active part in her life anyway. I mean, Aqua never needed Kairi for anything, never. On the contrary, both Sora and Riku were vital for all the members of the wayfinder trio, back then and later on.

  In Chain of Memories, Coded, 358/2 days ... Kairi was replaced with two other girls that quickly became more interesting than Kairi herself, aka Naminé and Xion. In those stories Kairi is barely mentioned and almost never appears. But Sora and Riku ... oh, Sora and Riku! They’re the PROTAGONISTS. They always interact, they always appear, they always do stuff. 

  Let’s not even talk about Dream Drop Distance, where it’s JUST Sora and RIku. 

  What’s my point? The Destiny trio isn’t a trio, it’s a duo. Kairi is ALWAYS put in a corner, she never has a part in the story. 

  I’m not talking about ships, i don’t care about ships, I don’t ship Soriku nor Sokai, it’s not about this. The problem is Kairi’s character development, which did not exist. Not only a development, but even a purpose was missing. 

  So, since i kinda liked her in KH1 and the potential was there, i thought that KH3 would have set things right for her. I had high hopes especially because of Axel, I was like, “WOW here it is a great potential for a good, healthy, platonic relationship, finally Kairi found someone to be paired with and do stuff. We will finally see her being weak, finding her power again, maybe she will be a playable character, maybe she will interact with BOTH Sora and RIku too, making jokes, express her preferences etc etc” yeah and what we got? Kairi is reduced to a mere man pain object again. She almost forgot about Axel once that Sora appeared. She got kidnapped here and there all along. Again. She kinda forced Sora to eat that fruit and never asked for his opinion, while Riku was having an existential drama going on just some steps away. But i don’t think she cares for Riku anyway since she never had any kind of bond time with him and isn’t interested in his problems. She fought once (badly), revealing that her training was somehow useless (she had to be saved by Sora and the others). She gets killed (pretty stupidly too) and Sora had to sacrifice to bring her back. And what made me angry the most: Sora’s heart gets lost in the process of saving her but it’s NOT Kairi the one going after him in the secret ending. IT’S RIKU. LIKE WHAAAT?? Riku?? She can’t even take her girly keyblade and go after the boy she is supposed to love and that died for her?? Riku has to do it? Really? It’s ridiculous. ... 

  Furthermore, she wasn’t a playable character. The only characters that we were able to play were Sora, Riku and .... Aqua! Pretty funny. (I think they are Nomura’s favorites, i don’t know.)

  Kairi’s only part in KH3 was changing outfit and “being Sora’s light” somehow but ... that was so much out of the blue and most likely an isolated moment. It could have been a nice coronation for a developed love story but the problem is that no development was there before.

  So, going back to my point.

  Even if i would have chosen another way to tell the story, the rushed pace of KH3 worked for everyone anyway, except for Kairi. Kairi needed a different treatment.

  But at this point i don’t think she will ever get it, probably Nomura doesn’t like her too much since he decided to make another DreamDropDistance game settled in Insommia next time xD so i give up on her. I’ll focus on the other beautiful female characters of this game.

  Anyway, even if i talked a lot about why Kairi was another flop, i want to point out how interesting some characters got instead. I’m talking about Xigbar (great plot twist), Saix, Demyx, Vexen (Vexen had so much importance, i mean, i didn’t expect him to be the one moving kh3’s plot), Luxord, Marluxia, Larxene and Repliriku! They used to be marginal characters and now they turned out to be protagonists, it’s amazing.

- FF characters: 7/10. I really loved Verum Rex’s surprise, it’s a clever idea to recycle the Versus characters and concepts Nomura couldn’t bring to life. Now that Nomura turned them into original characters, he has the copyright over them again thanks to Disney and he can use them as much as he wants, bringing the “ff characters cameos in kh” on a brand new level. Starting from the next game, we will have semi-FFcharacters included in the main plot, not just having a cameo here and there, which is amazing!

  But. This doesn’t mean i didn’t miss actual FF characters in Kh3. Cloud, Leon&Co left a hole in kh’s tradition.

Let’s sum it up my notes: 

Graphic: 10/10 +

Gameplay: 10/10 +

Exploration: 10/10 +

Music: 8/10 +

Plot twists/Surprise/Content/Plot elements: 8.5/10. +

The narrative/structure/pace: 6.5/10. +

Characters development: 7/10. +

FF characters: 7/10. +

Total = 8,3

AND ... THAT’S IT FOR NOW I GUESS? xD

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 4/7 Word count: 1785 Summary: Now attending the university here in their hometown as he begins his Master’s, Tobirama develops a problem with falling asleep in the strangest of places. Madara, poor innocent never-deserved-any-of-this Madara, gets mistaken for a mattress one too many times. All he wanted to do was focus on his career but instead he finds himself forcibly tasked with herding his secret crush towards better sleep habits. It’s driving him up the wall.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI in the blog header!

Chapter 3: Special Delivery

Madara had never slept so well and so frequently in his entire life. Every time he passed a mirror he was startled all over again to see how much the bags under his eyes had faded. He still asked himself each time he woke up if the emotional turmoil was really worth all this wonderful rest, though he had yet to come up with a satisfactory answer.

He had tried to tell Tobirama they needed to stop this, of course, and he’d actually been sort of proud of himself for coming up with a couple of legitimate sounding reasons and communicating them without swearing once. The problem was that Tobirama didn’t care to listen to any of his reasons, letting him go on with a solemn expression until he had ranted himself out of breath and then casually asking when he would be coming over that night.

Sometimes he thought about requesting a transfer back to the night shift so he would only be available for sleeping while Tobirama was still in class. That plan was foiled before it could get off the ground by his absolute bone-deep hatred of the night shift.

After a couple of weeks it merely became a pattern much like any other and Madara eventually gave in to idea that he would continue to be used as a sleep aid, possibly until Tobirama was finished with his schooling. Which, he realized, could be quite some time if he planned on going for his PhD after finishing his master’s. He had asked but Tobirama hadn’t really made up his mind on that yet. So at this point there was no telling when this beautiful torture would end and he might as well enjoy what parts of it that he could until it was all over.

It could have been worse, he consoled himself. They could have actually been sleeping in a bed together and that one slight change in location would have made it all feel so much more intimate. But they continued to sleep on the couch so often that Hashirama had begun to avoid sitting there in case his brother and his best friend showed up for another snooze session. Mito, on the other hand, continued to sit wherever she pleased. The one time Tobirama had tried to drag Madara on to the couch when Mito was already sitting there they ended up cramped in to one corner with Madara sitting upright and Tobirama curled atop his lap, Hashirama staring at them with all the visible signs of mental screaming.

Honestly, Madara had agreed more than he had been offended by the staring.

Although at first he was granted a reprieve every so often when Tobirama pulled all-nighters to study or complete one of his endless projects, after a while Hashirama began to whine at him about it. As though it were at all his job to make sure Tobirama slept! It only took a couple days of Hashirama showing up on his lunch hour to hit him with those big puppy eyes for Madara to give in and hand over the last of his sanity. He was doomed to sleep every night on the Senju household couch, dashing home for a change of clothes every morning and then back in to work before going through the madness all over again.

Packing up his things at the end of the day a couple of months after this all began, Madara avoided lifting his head from the files he had been poring over. If he did then he knew he would find Shisui staring at him over the divider separating their desks. His cousin found a great deal of amusement in his situation, always ready with some kind of smart joke on hand.

“I am not in the mood today,” Madara warned him.

“Oh come on! I thought of a really great pun.”

“Go tell it to Sakura,” he growled. “I’m sure your girlfriend is getting her share of laughter out of this too. She’s always hated me.”

“Probably because you guys have too much in common,” Shisui said, no longer bothering to deny his relationship with the she-devil. Madara really hated it when other people got their lives together so quickly. His cousin paused and frowned, visibly trying to shake off the mental image of the comparison he’d just made.

Seeing his opening, Madara took the opportunity to slip away while the other man was distracted. He snatched up his phone, hit a button to redirect his desk calls, and made a bee-line for the exit. It was Thursday and he’d always liked to grab groceries on Thursday’s so that he could enjoy Friday to himself and not worry for the weekend. With how often he ate dinner over at Hashirama’s place maybe he should have given half his grocery bill to them but they hadn’t asked and Madara knew exactly how much cash they were rolling in. They could afford to feed him.

He zoomed over to the store closest to his own home and rushed through the aisles as fast as he could, running on autopilot and sense memory to find all the items on the list he’d scrawled out on a scrap of paper that morning. Usually he wrote up a whole list using the notes app on his phone but usually he didn’t sleep in on Hashirama’s couch and wake up a half hour before shift to Tobirama squirming and demanding to be released so he could make it to class on time. When Madara handed over the other man’s backpack this morning he’d noticed it was much lighter than usual. He was starting to wonder if Tobirama was lying about the amount of projects he always had just to guilt Madara in to helping him sleep better.

Once he had everything he needed in the cart he fell in to the shortest check-out line he could find and resisted the urge to bounce impatiently on the balls of his feet until finally he was loading up his car with plastic bags and heading off towards home. If he didn’t plan anything too complicated he might even have time to cook his own dinner before getting any ‘where are you’ texts calling him in for mattress duty.

That plan went out the window just like his groceries went sprawling out across the floor when he opened the apartment door to find a very familiar looking couch sitting crooked under the archway between kitchen and living room. Perched in the center of it with two different binders open in his lap, Tobirama barely even twitched at all the ruckus.

“Mito sends her regards,” he said. “She also says not to call before noon.”

“It’s seven pm.”

“Oh. Is it?” he asked mildly. Then his nose was back in whatever he happened to be working on and Madara rethought his theory about faking all the homework.

Looking forward to the day this man graduated and returned to the real world, Madara decided his best friend’s harpy of a wife could at least wait until there wasn’t a carton of ice cream melting on his already discolored kitchen tiles. He watched Tobirama from the corner of one eye as he picked everything up and sorted it all in to the proper spots. It wasn’t surprising to get no further reaction than the scratching of a mechanical pencil no matter how much noise he continued to make.

After everything was put away and the screaming in his head sounded less like the siren on top of his squad car, Madara dug out his cellphone and scrolled through the contacts for Mito’s number. She picked up on the second ring.

“I see you received my package.”

“What the hell, you witch?” Madara growled, turning away from Tobirama and retreating in to the bedroom where he could watch the back of the man’s head from afar.

“Keep them both there and don’t come back,” she commanded. “It has been much too long since my husband and I were able to sit down alone and enjoy an evening together. We can buy a new couch; just keep whatever it is the two of you are doing over there and out of my living room.”

“There is nothing inappropriate going on here,” Madara screeched, holding the phone right in front of his face for maximum volume. Too late he froze and realized that was definitely loud enough to be overheard.

Mito, unsurprisingly, had no sympathy for his plight. “Well whatever is going on can go on without an audience.”

She hung up while he was in the middle of hissing some unflattering comments about her possible birth parents. Which, he realized in retrospect, was probably a good thing. Mito was not the kindest person to those who had wronged her and not even Tobirama was stupid enough to ignore the fear of her revenge techniques. A shaven head was less than the least of what she would do to him if she’d heard him insulting her beloved family.

Fuming from both ears Madara punched the end call button, sorely missing the satisfying snap he used to get from ending a call on a flip phone, then stormed a few circles around his bedroom to calm down before heading back out in to the living room. Tobirama had situated himself directly in the center of the couch that used to sit in his brother’s home, both spaces to either side of him left thoughtfully clear. Without anything else to do Madara wandered over and flopped down beside him. He could have gone and sat on his own couch but it just seemed like the thing to do, joining the man already there.

Almost like a magnet to a lode stone, without really seeming to notice he was doing so, Tobirama leaned over to nestle himself up against Madara’s side. It would have been much more charming if Madara weren’t aware the man was likely just seeking a bit of extra warmth.

They sat in silence for a while until the rumbling in his stomach drove Madara back up to make dinner. He was able to tempt his guest away from studying long enough to wolf down a couple plates of stir fry and then they both collapsed on to the couch again and closed their eyes, ready to sleep after a long day. It felt a little strange to sleep there when his actual bed was only a room away but he had to set some boundaries, of course.

It had absolutely nothing to do with how hard it would be to let Tobirama go once he saw the man in his own bed.

[myforeverforlife]

Sweet Lies (4).

This is the last part of the series! Thank you everyone for giving love to this fic, I’m glad that you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it!

Word Count: 5,636

Masterlist

Series masterlist: ( 1 )  ( 2 )  ( 3 )  ( Final )

To say that your friends watched over you carefully after the museum incident was an understatement. They made it their duty to have at least one of them in contact with you whenever they could. Kyungsoo had even been staying at your apartment with you for the past couple of weeks. When your parents had come back from their trip, they had been just as protective of you. 

“Maybe you should move back in with us,” your mother had told you when you went to visit them, pacing back and forth in your family’s living room.

“Mom, I’m fine. It’s been a while and they haven’t done anything. The police have even gone out of their way to give me updates on the Kingpin and his men in prison.”

“How do you know that they won’t try something again? We just want to keep you safe, sweetheart,” your father spoke from beside you on the faded, worn-down couch that had been with your family for ages.

“I know.” You leaned over, head resting on his shoulder as your father patted your back. You let him continue to soothe you, just like he used to do when you were a child. “But I’m being safe, and I make sure that someone knows where I am whenever I’m not at home. Plus, the Kingpin and his henchmen are confirmed to be locked up in their cells. I’m not as worried as I used to be. I’ll be fine.”

Your mother paused her movements, shoulders slumping as she realized that no amount of convincing and reasoning would get you to come back home to her. “Fine,” she murmured, voice choked up with tears.

“Mom,” you exclaimed, jumping up from your spot on the couch and embracing her in a warm hug. You hadn’t expected her to react so strongly, but then again, she had always been the one to worry the most in your family. She smothered you in her hold, sniffling as she smoothed down your hair.

“You’re my baby, and I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered.

“And you won’t,” you told her. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Your arms ached as you carried folders of old, laminated manuscripts back to your office. You had been tasked with doing a commemorative article on several pieces that your company had published twenty years ago. This required a lot of digging through old issues of the company’s magazine, scavenging through the archives for relevant pieces. Since this celebratory piece was so important, you had been spending more time at work this past week. You were often the last one in the office, staying until midnight as you pored over materials. 

Tonight was no different.

As you walked down the dimly lit hallway, you made an agreement with yourself to head home after dropping off your research articles at your office. The late nights were taking a toll on you, and you were desperately craving sleep. A pinging noise came from the phone in your back pocket, but you were too preoccupied to stop and check your phone. 

You pushed the door to your office open with your hip, grateful that you had left it unlocked when you went down to the archival basement. Your good mood vanished, however, once you realized who was sitting in your office chair.

The folders slipped out of your hands, falling onto the floor with a soft thud. You were gasping for air, trying to find some way to get your body to turn around, to scream for help, to do something. But you were frozen in place, unable to do anything but stare into the eyes of the man in front of you:

The Kingpin’s henchman from the museum.

“It took a bit of hunting on our part,” he graveled out, putting his feet up on your desk. “And a bit of prison breaking and diversion from some of the Kingpin’s loyal allies. But we found you.”

Your breathing was picking up again, horrifyingly similar to how it had been when you were trapped in the museum room. Internally, you were screaming at yourself to run! But once again, it was as if you had no control over your own body, like you were only a spectator watching yourself from afar.

“Y/N, professional journalist for three years, moved to the big city as a child.” The man’s voice grew colder as he spoke, watching you unblinkingly. “Possible acquaintance to Spiderman.”

“What?” you choked out feebly, the only thing that you were able to muster up the energy to do.

“It was all over the news: Spiderman comforts terror-stricken woman in horrible museum attack,” the man quoted in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Luckily, the boss has some pretty good connections, and we were able to find out who you are. The only question is, why did Spiderman pay such close attention to you? He’s never been like this with any of the civilians, so why you all of a sudden?”

His legs dropped from your desk to the floor, and the man stood up, creeping towards you with carefully calculated steps.

Your legs were trembling furiously by that point, and you took shaky steps backwards in an attempt to get away. However, your back soon made contact with what you could instantly tell was not the cold, stiff surface of your office door.

A pair of arms encircled you in a vice grip, holding you in place while the Kingpin’s henchman came to stand face to face with you. “You can make this easy on yourself and tell us who Spiderman really is,” his voice rumbled out. “Or, we can do this the hard way.”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know who he is,” you stammered, willing yourself not to lose your composure in front of these criminals.

The henchman clucked his tongue in pity, nodding at the person holding you in place.

“The hard way it is, then.”

Jongdae was on his nightly patrol, swinging through the city and stopping to help those in need. Tony Stark hadn’t needed him for any Avengers related missions lately, so Jongdae had been free to focus on keeping his hometown safe. He was grateful for this, since it meant he got more time to spend with his loved ones.

He landed on top of a billboard, crouching down as he surveyed the city. Nothing out of the ordinary tonight.

“Maybe I should just call it a night,” he thought to himself, pulling his phone out from a concealed pocket in his suit. Just as he opened it up to look for any messages, the wailing of police cars came zooming past on the street below him. Without a moment of hesitation, Jongdae put his phone away in record time and jumped down from the sign, swinging from rooftop to rooftop until he landed on top of one of the police cars.

He peeked under the top of the car, waving at the officers inside through the window. The officers were definitely surprised, to say the least, the driver lowering the window tentatively while his partner gaped at Jongdae.

“Hello, officers. What’s the issue?” Jongdae asked. No matter how many times he used this suit that Tony Stark had gifted to him as a thank-you, he still wasn’t used to the voice distortion technology that had been added. He could barely even recognize his own voice.

“A woman’s been spotted at the top of the Albright Tower,” answered the police officer in the passenger’s seat. Her mouth was still agape, like a fish out of water.

“A woman? Is she trying to jump?”

“No, she’s been tied to the fencing around the top of the skyscraper. The only thing keeping her up is the ledge she’s standing on. A man claiming to be working with the Kingpin sent out a message to the local police to tell Spiderman that he had his ‘museum girl’. But Downtown city police just reported an hour ago that none of the Kingpin’s accomplices had been removed from the city jail, and they’re still full with not one single cell reporting a missing person.” A worried frown appeared on the officer’s face. “Do you know the woman?”

Fear spread throughout Jongdae, more intense than any that he had ever felt before. It was as if ice was spreading through his veins, chilling him to the bone. If his guess was right...

“Thank you, officers. I’ll meet you there. Have backup ready.” He straightened up until he was crouched on top of the police car before shooting out a web-string. He made sure that it was secure to a building before swinging away, with only one destination in mind.

“Please be alright,” he pleaded internally. “Please let her be alright.”

Although he was going as fast as he could, to Jongdae, it still didn’t seem fast enough. Every passing second was another moment in which you were in life-threatening danger. Jongdae could feel the anger building up, jaw clenched as he continued to shoot out webs over and over, bringing him closer to the skyscraper. 

As the distance lessened, he could see a figure at the top of the building, a couple of taller, more intimidating figures standing right behind it.

Pushed on by this image, he found the strength to move even faster, making it to the top of the skyscraper in a couple of seconds. Jongdae landed on a flagpole extending out from the side of the building, ending only a couple of feet away from you. His heart wrenched as he saw how the ledge beneath you only had space for the heels of your shoes. The majority of your feet were already exposed to nothing, only air underneath them.

“Spiderman,” you gasped out, knees giving out in relief. If it weren’t for the ropes holding you in place to the fence, you would have collapsed in a heap. The ropes were thin, but tied intricately and tightly to keep you in place.

The Kingpin’s henchman stood behind you on the other side of the fence, knife in his hand. A couple of other men stood beside him, guns at the ready and already pointed at Spiderman through the fence as they waited for their cue.

Jongdae got up from his perch on the flagpole, staring the henchman down. “Let her go. Now,” he threatened, voice low.

“Or what? You’ll attack? Send me back to jail? Well, Spiderman. If you make any sudden moves, I’ll make sure that this girl falls from this building, all the way down to the bottom. Choose wisely.”

Jongdae fell silent, thinking through all of his options and trying to come up with alternate ones, any tactics that he could use. “What do you want?” he asked, trying to stall for time.

“Simple. You tell me who you really are, and then we see how all the villains in this city react once they find out who the person is behind the mask. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of visitors once they see who you are. You’re not very popular among the prison inmates, you know.”

“If I tell you who I am, you’ll let her go?”

“If you take off the mask, and tell us who you are, then yes,” the henchman corrected him.

Jongdae hesitated, momentarily caught between the two choices given to him. He could reveal himself, but then everyone else that he knew and cared about would be at risk of also being targeted. But if he chose not to reveal himself, they would kill you right there, right in front of him. It was an easy decision for Jongdae.

"Fine," he said, hand reaching up behind him to loosen his mask.

"No!"

Jongdae’s hand paused, head looking up to see you struggling against the bonds holding you, gritting your teeth in frustration.

“You can’t do this!” you yelled. “You can’t let them know who you are! You’ll put your life in danger!” you cried out, the hands behind your back straining against the ropes in a vain attempt to get free. 

But unknown to you, to Jongdae, you are his whole life. With you like this, his life is already in danger.

“Quiet!” the henchman yelled, kicking at your back through the fence. “Hurry up, Spiderman. Or the girl dies.”

“Don’t do it!” you continued to yell, shouts turning to screams as you felt the ropes loosening behind you.

“Keep talking, and I’ll just keep cutting through the ropes until there’s nothing left holding you up here. You have three seconds left, Spiderman. Three, two...”

Jongdae’s mind was in a frenzy, working frantically to try and calculate some way to get both of you out of there without jeopardizing his identity in a last-ditch attempt. 

But it was too late.

“One.”

The gun-wielding henchmen shot at Jongdae at the same time that the main henchman sliced through the ropes in one clean movement, kicking your back from against the fence once more and pushing you off of the tiny ledge. Jongdae dodged the bullets quickly, only to hear your shrieks as you fell, descending at an alarming rate from the top of the building.

Instinctively, he jumped down after you, sending out a web-string to catch you before he sent another one out to the side of the skyscraper. As the second string made contact with the building, the two of you immediately stopped your descent, and you felt the wind get knocked out of you as your body was stopped in place.

Your throat had turned dry from screaming, tears dried against your face as Spiderman steadied himself on what was thankfully, a wider ledge. He pulled you up carefully, rolling up the web-string until you were standing beside him. He held you close to him, and although you couldn’t see his face, you could tell that he was trying to examine you for any wounds.

“Are you okay?” he asked, gripping your shoulders tightly.

At a loss for words, you could only find it in you to nod weakly, your whole body still in shock at what had happened. 

“I’m going to take you to the authorities. They’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Okay, but... what about you?”

Jongdae smiled, despite knowing that you couldn’t see it. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” Without giving you any time to answer, his hands slipped from your shoulders, one arm coming to fit around your waist while he shot out a web with his other hand. The two of you dropped down to the streets where the police were waiting, a mess of cars parked with lights flashing and reflecting off of the tall buildings close by.

“Get this woman to the hospital, and make sure she’s safe,” Jongdae told an officer brusquely before zipping away, back up to the top of the skyscraper. Even with the noise and bustle around you, the only thing you could focus on was Spiderman, racing back up to the villains. He hadn’t saved you just once, but twice. Who exactly was this man?

You were so lost in your own thoughts that the police officer beside you had to tap your shoulder to get your attention, and even then you answered her questions as if in a haze. 

When Jongdae got back to the top, he saw the police emerging from the roof’s stairwell, moving in and surrounding the villains in a circle. Jongdae vaulted himself over the fence, landing on his feet in front of the main henchman.

The man was clearly flustered, not having expected any of this to happen, for his plan to go terribly wrong.

Jongdae stepped closer until there was only a couple of inches of space between him and the henchman. Despite being shorter than the man, he had the upper hand here. “You are never going to harm that woman again. I’m going to make sure that you stay locked up forever, and if you ever try to lay a hand on her again, I will end you.”

The henchman snarled, spitting in Jongdae’s face.

The police officers tensed immediately, weapons pointed at the villains as Jongdae calmly wiped the beads of spit off of his mask.

“You really do care about her, going to such lengths for that little-”

Before the henchman could finish his sentence, Jongdae reached out to grab onto the man’s arm, twisting it and flipping the man over his body. The man landed on his back on the other side, a sickening crunch piercing through the air as he groaned in pain.

“Don’t ever mention her again. You don’t even deserve to say her name with that vile mouth of yours. Next time, I won’t hesitate to destroy you. Plus, I’m sure the Kingpin has worse things for you in mind seeing as you’ve failed twice.”

Jongdae strode off, police officers clearing a path for him as he headed to the stairs, choosing to take the long way down to the bottom of the building. He was still fuming with quiet rage, and he was worried about losing control if he didn’t get a chance to cool down in private.

The footsteps of his suit-covered feet stepped lightly over the staircase steps, his breathing picking up as his steps grew faster in pace. By the time that he reached the 20th floor, he figured that he had calmed down enough to be out in the public eye again.

Jongdae exited the staircase through a doorway, entering a hall and walking over to a patio. Assorted people in the hallway gawked at him as he passed: How often do you get to even breathe the same air as Spiderman?

He opened the door to the patio, climbing up onto the railing and dropping down, landing on the hard concrete sidewalk in front of the skyscraper to the amazement of the officers still stationed there. 

“Is she okay?” he asked one of them.

“The woman’s been taken to the closest hospital. Her family’s been contacted, and they should be there shortly. You did a good job, Spiderman,” the officer replied.

“Thank you for your assistance, officers,” he told them, tone clipped as he ignored the compliment. Without another word, Jongdae was off, swooping from rooftop to rooftop.

Even in Jongdae’s deepest fears, there had never been something like this. He had been so close to losing you, to never seeing you smile at him again.

You were the one who understood him the best, the one who knew how to talk to and help him no matter what situation he was in. And he was the same for you, as well. You two were two halves of one whole, not meant to be separated from the other for long. If he had lost you, Jongdae would have never forgiven himself.

A sudden chirping from inside his suit went off, alerting him of an incoming call: Kyungsoo.

Jongdae couldn’t see you in the hospital again, hurt because of him. As much as he wanted to go to you, to hold you close to him and ensure you that everything would be okay, he didn’t even believe in himself at that moment.

How could he keep you safe if he had failed to protect you not just once, but twice?

Jongdae ignored the call, pushing aside his feelings and continued to travel aimlessly, with no real destination in mind. If he could tire out his body, maybe he would be distracted enough to ignore the guilt starting to eat away at him for a little bit.

Maybe he would be able to forgive himself.

Jongdae hadn’t come to visit you after all.

You were pretending to be asleep in bed, the soft fabric of your childhood comforter covering your body. After this incident, your parents had begged you to come home with them, at least for a little bit. You hadn’t had the heart to refuse them, not this time around.

Kyungsoo was home too, most likely comforting your distressed parents downstairs. 

You glanced at the cellphone in your hands, going through your messages to see if Jongdae had messaged you back this time. Still no response.

Groaning, you tossed it onto your nightstand, rolling over onto your other side. He was doing it again, this habit of avoiding you. “Old habits die hard,” you thought to yourself.

A sudden tapping was heard from your window, and you flipped back over in a flash. You waited, staring at the glass as you started to question whether you had been imagining things.

A red cloth-covered fist appeared, knocking lightly at your window once more. 

You jumped up, recognizing the fabric and peeking outside. Spiderman hung there, upside down and waiting you to open the window. With slow, careful movements, you slid it open. “Spiderman?” you asked, almost positive that this was just a dream.

“Can I come in?” he answered, voice hushed. 

You moved back, and he swung inside, standing up to his full height once he landed on the soft carpet of your room.

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” you asked him, taken aback by his appearance.

“I... I came to check on you. I heard that you had been released from the hospital.”

“That doesn’t explain how you know where my parents live,” you countered, growing apprehensive at his evasive answers. “Who are you?”

You noticed how he was getting antsy, remaining silent while his feet were shuffling as he thought of an answer. You crept closer, staring at his mask as he froze. Reaching out, your hand came up to the back of it, waiting for any indication that you should stop. When none came, you lifted up the bottom, pulling the mask away with a shaky breath.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw.

Jongdae stared back at you, hair messy and matted from being covered for so long. Jongdae, your best friend, your partner in crime, your Jongdae was the one behind the mask?

His pupils shook as he breathed out unsteadily, waiting for your reaction. 

“You... it’s been you this whole time,” you gasped out, the mask slipping from your hand onto the floor, staring back up at the two of you. Your heart rate began to pick up, thumping loudly in your chest as your mind tried to piece everything together. 

“Y/N-” he began, at a loss for words.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked, face contorting in anguish. “Oh my God, you... you were there at the museum and you still didn’t tell me after. Why? Jongdae, why would you keep something like this from me?” 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me!” he exclaimed, brows furrowing in a flash of frustration. “Imagine if you actually had known who I was. What happened today with the Kingpin’s men would have been even worse. They could have tortured you for more information, or killed you like they almost did earlier! I couldn’t let that happen to you. I still can’t,” he added as an afterthought. 

Your eyes widened at his words, and you reached out to him, cradling his face tentatively in your hands as you moved closer. Taking in a deep breath, you ran your thumbs over his cheeks, fingers still trembling from the revelation. “Dae, what happened today wasn’t your fault. The museum thing, too. The Kingpin and his men are at fault for all of this.”

He shook his head vehemently, his head drooping a bit. His eyes scrunched shut in pain as he thought back to the traumatic memories. “I should have never become Spiderman.”

“Dae, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he did so, head still down. His hair was falling in front of his eyes, shrouding them from your sight. You smoothed the strands to the side, hands brushing over his features tenderly, lovingly. 

“You became Spiderman for a reason, right? No one just wakes up one day and decides to become a superhero.”

Unsure of how to respond, Jongdae stayed silent, waiting for you to continue. 

“Why did you become Spiderman?” 

He took in a deep breath, focusing on some spot on the carpet as he thought. “I... I didn’t mean to. I got bit by some spider in a lab, and next thing you know I ended up like this.” He lifted a hand weakly before letting it flop back to his side. “But I couldn’t just passively watch people get hurt while knowing that I had a small chance to do something, to help others.” 

“And if you weren’t Spiderman, what would have happened to those people?” 

Jongdae finally looked at you straight on, the soft light of the night shining through your window illuminating the irises of his eyes. You could see the confusion there, probably wondering what any of this had to do with what happened today, with you. 

“If we didn’t have Spiderman, the world would be worse off. Sure, we’d have the rest of the Avengers, but what would our city do without you? This city loves you, Dae. Not just because of who you are with the suit and the mask, but because of what you stand for, your morals and values. They love you because they can tell that you truly care about them, about this city. Without you, so many people would have been in pain, or worse. Myself included.”

“Y/N — ”

You pressed a finger to his lips lightly, stifling a smile when he quieted immediately. “I’m not trying to guilt trip you into being Spiderman, but I want you to know that you’ve done more good in this world than harm. You’re our hero, Dae.”

Moving your finger away from his lips, you were taken aback when he moved in, his forehead coming to rest against yours. You could hear the shakiness of his breathing, see the fluttering of his lashes as he blinked. “How do you always know what to say?” he murmured, hands coming to rest at your hips. 

Your own hands slid up to rest atop his chest, where you could feel the pounding of his heartbeat through his suit. “I guess you could say I have a superpower of my own,” you joked softly. 

He snorted, shoulders shaking at your attempt at humor. “Jesus Christ, Y/N.” 

You giggled along, both of you standing there in each other’s arms and taking in the feel of just being able together like that. As your giggles faded away, you nudged his nose lightly with your own. “Thank you for saving me, Dae.” 

His eyebrows raised in surprise, his voice incredulous. “You don’t have to thank me for that.” 

“I know, but I want to.” Your thumbs rubbed against the fabric of his suit underneath them, another thought coming to you as he stood there before you like this. “Dae, I know you’re worried about keeping me safe, but I really want you to be honest with me. Knowing that the others knew your secret while I was totally unaware was...”

“Fucked up?” he supplied.

“I was going to think of something nicer to say, but sure, that works too. Will you just be honest with me from now on?”

Jongdae nodded, determined to make amends. For you, this was the least that he could do. 

“I promise.”

Sitting atop the roof of a building, you waited for Jongdae. 

He had texted you to say that he would be a bit late since there was an attempted bank robbery, but he would meet you as soon as possible. Instead of waiting for him at the movie theater where you guys had planned on going, you decided to wait for him at the building where he always stashed his “normal Jongdae” stuff, as he called it, while he was out as Spiderman. 

You had found his backpack up there, taking a seat on the floor beside it and checking your phone occasionally for any updates. The sun had already fallen asleep with the moon coming out to take its place. Your fingers wiggled impatiently in the pockets of your jacket, or technically, Jongdae’s jacket. He wouldn’t mind that you had taken it from his backpack, especially with the way he was always nagging you about not wearing a jacket at the worst possible moments. 

“Are you cold?”

Your head whipped around to catch sight of Jongdae walking over to you, pulling his mask off and ruffling up his flattened hair. 

“Don’t scare me like that,” you scolded him, getting up from your spot and meeting him halfway. 

“Sorry.” His thumb came up to run along the length of the side of your face, stopping at your chin. “You didn’t have to meet me here.”

“I know, but I wanted to. I love seeing you in your suit.” 

Jongdae laughed, lips curling up at the ends. “So you’re only using me for my body?”

“That’s not what I meant! But you have to admit, you do look really hot in this suit. Do you think Tony Stark would make one for me too?”

Jongdae’s laughs were louder this time, eyes turning to crescents in his glee. “I’m not sure about that, Mr. Stark definitely doesn’t give out stuff like this easily.”

“If I had superpowers, would he give me one? How did you get your powers?”

“A spider bit me,” he replied, brow raising as he realized what you were thinking.

“Do you think you could get the spider to bite me too?”

“Babe, the spider’s dead. Also, it was a pretty special spider. I don’t know if there’s any more out there,” he told you with a playful grin. 

You shrugged, not affected. “It was worth a shot. Wouldn’t it be cool though, if both of us were out there saving the world together?”

“It would. But I think I’d get distracted having you work with me.”

“Distracted?” Your voice shot up in surprise. “How?”

“Well, imagine. If you had a cool suit like mine, the one you’re always checking me out in, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t keep my eyes off of you. I’d end up spending most of my time looking at you instead of fighting crime.” A smirk grew on Jongdae’s face as he watched you grow flustered.

“It’s not like you don’t do that already,” you replied with an attempt to get the last word in. Your face felt hot, however, and you brought the backs of your hands up to them.

Jongdae burst out into laughter, doubling over slightly. “You’re so cute, even when you get all irritated.”

“Don’t say that, you’re gonna ruin my reputation as a certified badass,” you joked, poking him in the shoulder playfully.

“It’s already obvious that you’re a badass.” Jongdae came closer, and you pulled him flush against you, your arms around him.

“Don’t try and sweet talk me, Spiderman. Your tricks won’t work on me.”

“I think they already have.”

Jongdae was so close, you could feel every exhale as he spoke. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, before his lips met yours.

You parted your lips, wanting to feel every bit of him against you. Pulling him closer, you let your hands rest at the small of his back. You felt a sudden warmth envelop your cheeks, Jongdae's hands coming up to cover them gently, his love for you tangible in every touch. His caresses were sweet, but his kisses were another story.

Jongdae wasn't rough with his kisses, but you could feel the earnestness behind them. Each one lingered longer than the last, and they started to travel further away from your lips.

Beating him to the chase, you pulled away, only to start on his neck. Satisfied with Jongdae's unsteady breaths, your determination only grew. Your kisses were slow, drawn-out to the point where Jongdae felt like he was going to lose his mind. As his gasps began to turn to soft moans, you placed a final kiss on the edge of his jaw before drawing back.

Jongdae was lucky that the fabric of his suit covered the entire length of his neck, otherwise you were sure that it would be covered with splotches of pink from your kisses. Grinning at your work, you looked up only to see Jongdae glaring at you, chest still heaving and breathing uneven.

"You're not fair," he grumbled.

"If you want more, you'll have to catch me," you sang out, taking a few steps backwards.

"Really?" he called out, hands on his hips as he watched you run away. He shook his head at your childish play, despite the smirk growing on his face.

"Come and get me, Dae!" You were full on giggling by that point, your steps increasing in pace once you saw Jongdae pull his mask back on.

"You better run."

A shriek of laughter burst out as you broke into a sprint, only for Jongdae to catch up to you in a couple of seconds. He wrapped an arm around you, lifting you up and continuing to run to the edge of the roof. Just before you could scream, he shot out a long webstring, the end of it attaching to another rooftop before he jumped off.

The two of you swung from building to building, laughter heard on the streets below from passerby. Some of them looked up, a couple of them to take pictures of the famed Spiderman while others simply smiled and continued on their way.

Tonight would be another night of canceled plans, but it didn't matter. Both of you would have countless other nights to make up for this canceled movie date. Besides, the two of you had other plans in mind.

Series masterlist: ( 1 )  ( 2 )  ( 3 )  ( Final )

A/N: The end! Thank you everyone for reading and giving this series love, I hope you guys will stick around for other stories (ahem, demon Jongdae) ;)

@noona-clock @baekfanapleintemps

[fluffandlove]

Sensitivity

Author’s note: First TodoDeku fic ever yaaaas Based on this one experiment on TV I saw as a kid and also personal experience, I guess? Sooo I thought it’d be fun to use this for a fanfic ‘cause I’m trash, yes. 

Summary: They say the closer you feel to a person, the more sensitive you become to their touch. Maybe that’s why Midoriya gets so jumpy every time Todoroki touches him.

Word count: 2,5k oops

After they became friends, Todoroki joined Midoriya and the rest during lunch and sometimes even sat next to him without thinking. Their arms and legs would sometimes touch, but neither would make a big deal out of it, since they were pretty much always busy talking or laughing at something Iida said or did. Plus, it was nothing major, or anything.

Touch was very common in their small friend group and not really something Todoroki had put a lot of thought into. It didn’t come naturally to him per se, as he hadn’t experienced a lot of touch throughout his childhood because he was very much an introvert and not a very social person to begin with. Having friends was already a whole new world on its own, so Todoroki kind of just went with the flow, trying not to worry too much about the brief brushes of skin against skin.

Something he did notice, though, was that Uraraka would often put her hands on Midoriya’s shoulder if she had something exciting to say or clumsily bump into him, turn bright red and zoom off. The latter made him reevaluate some of his thought process since everyone and their cousin (except Midoriya of course) knew that Uraraka had a schoolgirl crush on him, which is why she’d get overly fiddly whenever they touched accidentally. Not to mention that if Midoriya touched her first, she’d absolutely lose her shit.

Maybe one’s sense of touch became different when there was an underlying want of intimacy. Obviously the type of touch also came into play, but Todoroki noticed that no matter how he touched Midoriya, the guy would always jump ten feet into the air and turn to him wide-eyed. It almost reminded him of poor Uraraka, except Midoriya’s nerves weren’t something new and he always had rosy cheeks to begin with.

Observing all of this was interesting. Todoroki was just silently watching everything from the sidelines, noticing the subtle differences in Midoriya’s reactions to different people touching him. Most of them weren’t obvious, and yes, he was always a bit jumpy, but never reached the level of extremity whenever Todoroki placed a hand on his arm.

Obviously this could also be blamed on the fact that he and Midoriya weren’t that close yet. Todoroki couldn’t really come up with any other good conclusion and was probably never going to be able to.  

Until that intriguing moment where Uraraka randomly turned to Midoriya, fingers hovering near his side and asking, “Are you ticklish?”

Todoroki resisted the urge to roll his eyes since that was the stupidest question anyone could ever ask, but still had to hide a smile behind his hand when Midoriya turned several shades of red and sputtered out a weak, “N-no!”

“Liar,” Uraraka sneered and poked his stomach, which resulted in Midoriya jumping away with a squawk. “You are! That’s so cute!”  

Luckily for Midoriya it was lunchtime, so barely anyone noticed his snorts and giggles, but he was still forced to take Uraraka’s playful torment until Iida stepped in because, “This is so very unprofessional, we’re trying to become heroes.”

Ever since then multiple people had tried tickling Midoriya during or after class and once again, Todoroki noticed some subtle differences: Not only was Midoriya more sensitive to people tickling him around his shoulders and ribs, but it also depended on who was doing it. Every time a girl wiggled her fingers against his side he’d have a more drastic reaction than when it was one of the guys doing the exact same thing in the exact same spot.

Midoriya also became more sensitive when he was tired, super excited or completely absorbed in his work. Kind of like how he was now.

It was definitely not the first time Todoroki had come over to his place to do homework, but he couldn’t help but be curious. With all of those observations and theories in mind, Todoroki wanted to know how Midoriya would react to his touch.

Yes, Todoroki was very aware of the fact that this was lame. It was incredibly dumb to slowly get up from his spot on the floor and sneak over to Midoriya, who was sitting behind his desk, tapping his pencil repeatedly against his lips while he was poring over his notes. Not to mention that it was so stupid to reach for the back of his neck with one finger and trace his spine.

However, the reaction was anything but.

Midoriya literally fucking shrieked. And Todoroki stared at him in disbelief and shock, finger still hovering over his back.

Both were pretty surprised.

“Todoroki-kun!” Midoriya wheezed and turned his chair to sort-of-but-not-really glare up at him because aforementioned flush on his cheeks was now exceptionally darker. “What’re you— Wait!”

Science. That was Todoroki’s only reason to cup Midoriya’s waist and let his fingers dance all over his clothed sides. Again, unlike his usual response, Midoriya instantly doubled over in boisterous laughter, hugging himself in a useless attempt to protect his skin. Todoroki didn’t even have to try that hard because every single touch sent Midoriya into another fit of laughter. Whether it was a squeeze, scribble or a poke.

No matter how he looked at it, Todoroki found it utterly fascinating to watch Midoriya squirm off the chair so he would no longer be fully trapped, but he only managed to stand on his feet for a mere second before he fell to the floor due to his endless laughter. The flush on his cheeks kept darkening, spreading to the rest of his face, his ears and even his neck, which Todoroki noticed when he experimentally ran a couple of fingers over his collarbone.

Todoroki was in constant awe, letting his fingers do their own thing while they explored, even daring to go under Midoriya’s shirt (it had ridden up anyway) to see what kind of reaction that would cause.

Instant. That was the right word.

The second Todoroki’s fingers touched his bare stomach Midoriya lost it completely. Head thrown back, baring his slightly sweaty and flushed neck, back arched off the floor, eyes shut and laughter increasing in pitch.

“God, T-Todoroki-kun!” his voice broke and Todoroki didn’t pay too much attention to the flutter in his own stomach. “Quit iiiit!”

But he didn’t want to. He wanted to touch every inch of skin he could find to record the reactions and store them in the back of his mind for all eternity. The soft and warm skin continuously trembled and twitched beneath his touch and Todoroki just observed, listening to the kind of laughter Midoriya produced whenever he switched spots or used a different method. Plus, Midoriya’s careless and cute laughter was acting like some kind of drug, making him feel high and wanting, needing more.

Once his fingers wriggled under his clamped arms, brushing ever so lightly over Midoriya’s underarms he knew he’d struck a very dangerous chord. Another shriek, similar to the first one, filled the air and Midoriya did everything he could to push Todoroki off of him, which was not very effective, since all he could do was weakly push at his arms while screeching and squealing.

Damn. This was definitely valuable information that he’d have to remember for the future. Eh, so if he didn’t want Midoriya to die, he’d have to go a bit lower, back to his ribs, which still gave him a shout of panicked laughter, but less panicked than before. He kept giving Midoriya unintentional bursts of energy by switching spots and methods, finding that soft caresses got the loudest reactions such as hysterical screams while the harder, firmer touches got endless rivers of pure laughter.

Said laughter was growing silent now, so Todoroki pulled his hands back, not bothering to pull his shirt back down for reasons and… sat back on his legs, watching as Midoriya let out a low whine and threw his arms up, totally exhausted. He didn’t really have to test his theory anymore, anyway.

Midoriya’s raw breathing was enough proof that he became hypersensitive when it was Todoroki who was touching him.  

“Sorry,” was all he could say because that was probably what Midoriya wanted to hear. Maybe he went a little overboard.  

Midoriya blinked a few times before he pushed himself up with his elbows and blew his bangs out of his face. “Why-why did you even do that?”

“You react differently to my touch,” Todoroki stated matter-of-factly and couldn’t help but look away for a few seconds. “I wanted to see if that also counted for tickling.”

“You...” Midoriya started but then closed his mouth again, his face becoming redder once again. “Huh?”

“You’re more sensitive to my touch.”

Even redder. “Am not!”

Todoroki moved closer and was about to show him, but Midoriya was not about to let him and they ended up wrestling. It was only a matter of seconds before they were rolling around like a couple of angry puppies, but Todoroki was still at a slight advance because of Midoriya’s weakened state so he managed to pin him down in the end.

“You are, though,” he said seriously and watched as Midoriya pressed his lips together in response, nervous. “You’re more sensitive to my touch than other people’s, Midoriya. It’s kinda fascinating.”

“What, have you been observing me or something?” Midoriya sputtered out and tried to knee him in the stomach, but Todoroki simply tweaked his side as a small warning and Midoriya curled up as much as possible.

“Well, yeah,” Todoroki replied casually as if Midoriya wasn’t trying to squirm away from the hand that was still on his waist. “’Twas just something I noticed. You’re a lot more ticklish when I tickle you than when Uraraka or Kirishima tickles you. We just witnessed that.”

Midoriya stared at him.

Todoroki stared back.

He’d left Midoriya speechless, but his face said it all. He didn’t disagree. He couldn’t, even if he tried, and if he did, Todoroki was more than willing to convince him. He unconsciously curled his fingers that were still wrapped around his waist and Midoriya jerked away from them, groaning out, “Todoroki-kun! Let go already!”

“See?”

The permanent red hue on his cheeks spread down to his neck. “I’m just ticklish, that’s all!”

Raising an eyebrow, Todoroki’s lips curled up into a small smirk. “You know I’m right. You’re hiding something.”

It was common knowledge that Midoriya was a bad liar and yet he still tried to cover his ass. “I’m not.”

“I’ll tickle it out of you.” And to show that he wasn’t bluffing, Todoroki grabbed his hips and Midoriya gasped sharply. It was a spot he hadn’t tried out yet and this was a nice opportunity. “I fucking will.”

“Nooooo!” Midoriya was already thrashing and getting breathless even though the hands on his hips hadn’t even moved yet.

Anticipation was apparently a thing, Todoroki noted, but something he also noticed when he gently slid his hands under his shirt was his fastened heartbeat. He could feel Midoriya’s chest heaving and his heart hammering like crazy. His hand stilled on his chest for a moment to make sure he was not imagining things before it moved over to his ribs again and as soon as he made eye-contact, he knew.

“Why’re you nervous?”

“Cause you’re about to tickle me,” Midoriya argued stubbornly but again, he was lying. “Will you—Ah! No!”

Todoroki had lightly scratched at his lower ribs and was about travel lower to his hips when Midoriya grabbed his wrists firmly. “Okay, okay! I like you!”

Well.

That was something Todoroki should’ve seen coming but he was still taken by surprise. Sort of. It explained a lot, but… now it was his turn to be at a loss for words. Even his usual train of thoughts stopped because Midoriya’s words were still being processed.

His hands dangled above Midoriya’s trembling torso, still in the other’s grip and he finally managed to look him in the eye again. “… You do?”

Instead of replying, Midoriya just nodded and awkwardly shifted until he was sitting up. “I just didn’t wanna make things weird between us, ‘cause we’ve been friends for a while now and things’re fine the way they are, but I guess somewhere along the way I started to like you more than a friend.”

This was something so new and weird that Todoroki could only nod because he was unable to say anything decent. The familiar flutter in his stomach returned and he noticed that there were more flutters than before, as if something was tickling him, except it was from the inside, which was fucking weird.

Then again, it was also kind of weird that he didn’t mind Midoriya being so close and practically holding his hands as those still hadn’t moved yet. His brain was torn between processing everything that was happening but also continuously yelling at him to shove his hands back under Midoriya’s shirt, what the actual—

“Todoroki-kun?”

“What.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

The hands tightened their grip on his wrists. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Todoroki couldn’t remember being able to feel his breath ghosting over his cheeks, but there it was. One of them was moving closer to the other and he had no clue who it was, but he didn’t particularly mind. In fact, because of their proximity, his fingers kept brushing against Midoriya’s stomach and he did the only thing he could think of, which was to touch it in earnest.

Flinch. Midoriya’s eyes widened and they looked at each other for a couple of seconds before Todoroki sighed and wrapped his hands around his hips, pulling him even closer. Their bodies were pressed together and Midoriya just sat there, probably feeling kind of awkward.

“Um. You okay?”

“Let’s just stay like this for a bit. I like touching you,” Todoroki mumbled, squeezing him and almost stiffened when he felt Midoriya’s arms circling around his neck, hugging him, but it was not unwanted.

“Me, too.”

“Good.”

[cressasdbfanfics]

And Then There Were Five? Chapter 6

Paring: Goku and Chichi

Words: 4,955

Summary: Chichi is nesting and Goku is exhausted. 

A/N: Thanks to the fabulous @jadefyre for the beta read!!!! And this is a very long chapter so happy reading. XD

Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12543438/6/And-Then-There-Were-Five

Archive of Our Own: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11284710/chapters/31108764

Chapter 6

Chichi scrutinized the wall of the new upstairs bedroom, carefully comparing paint swatches of seven different shades of pale pink—that all looked exactly the same.

She pointed out two sample patches on the wall, a hand rested on her huge belly. "I can't decide between these two. I can't help but think one is too bright but it goes better with the cribs' bedding. The other I think would be more soothing."

After saying 'eeny meeny miny moe' in my head, I pointed to one of the two she specified. "I like that one."

She compared the blanket in her hands with the swatch on the wall for the umpteenth time and grinned. "I agree!"

I looked down at the line of sample cans at our feet, trying to figure out which one was which. Before I decided if it was safe to ask her which one, she nudged a can with her slipper.

"That's the one."

I bent over and grabbed the can she indicated because she couldn't.

She squealed and clapped her hands together. "Oh, this is going to be so pretty!"

With that, she waddled out of the room. I shrugged after she left and put the other small cans of identical pale pink paint in a corner so I wouldn't get mixed up. She'd definitely—and unhappily—notice if I did.

Gohan helped with the calculations of how much paint to buy and went with me to the home improvement store to get enough—plus a few cuts of lumber for something else I had planned for Chichi and the twins.

With four people painting, it was done in only a couple of hours—not counting the minor paint fight we got into.

The next day, I took a midday break from working on the fields and went home to find Chichi sitting at the table poring over a magazine while she nibbled on a dessert—tiramisu by the sweet, creamy scent laced with a coffee sort of smell. A pen and notepad were on the other side of the magazine. Many words were written down and crossed out on the notepad.

"What are you up to?" I asked.

She glanced up at me. "Picking out names for our girls."

I sat down next to her and read over her shoulder. I wasn't the best reader out there but I got by. The list of names the magazine offered was long. Too long. Almost as long as the list of names Ox King made us for Gohan.

"Remember naming Gohan?" I asked.

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "How could I forget?" She turned fully to face me, her cute nose wrinkled in a frown. "You wanted to go fishing while he was yet nameless!"

I chuckled and held up a hand—remembering it well. "Sorry, babe! But you know I can't think when I'm hungry."

"Goku, you can't do anything when you're hungry."

I laughed and rubbed the back of my neck. "You've got a point there."

She giggled and turned back to her magazine. "Now what should we call them…"

A new question popped into my head—one that made me a little sad. "Say… how'd Goten get his name?"

She looked toward the kitchen window with a wistful smile and I followed her gaze. I felt Goten's warmth just outside the house.

"Gohan named him right after he was born," she finally said.

I looked at her. "He did?"

She nodded, turning her smile to me. "He did. We had been thinking long and hard about names but nothing seemed… right."

"So Einstein didn't suit Goten either, eh?"

Her eyes narrowed but her lips twitched like she was trying to fight a smile. "Just like his brother, Goten cried over that one, too."

I chuckled. "Good kid."

A half-hearted glare was her reply. She shook her head and went back to her magazine. She took a bite of her snack and turned a page, revealing another long list of names. Chichi slid the pen down the list, pausing once in a while to write down a couple in her notepad.

She gasped and gave me a bright grin. "Oh, I think I have just the ones!"

When she told me the names, I thought they sounded just right and fit mine, Gohan's and Goten's.

The field expansions meant longer workdays, but the increase in crop yield was worth it. So much grew that it attracted a lot of hungry animals—including a family of plant-eating dinosaurs. After spending too much time protecting our food and relocating them one by one, I was rounding off the long day by fixing the minor damage the dinosaurs caused and then watering.

"Dad?"

I paused my watering long enough to glance at Goten. "Yeah?"

"Can you play with me?" He made a face. "Gohan's having kissy-kissy with Videl. Again."

I chuckled but said, "Not right now. Sorry, buddy." I shifted the huge watering barrel to one arm and gestured at the vegetables growing almost as far as the eye could see. "I have to water all this. But maybe later today?"

His disappointed expression brightened and he nodded. "Okay!"

With that, he lifted into the air and zoomed away toward home.

The fields were so huge I had to refill the giant water barrel several times before the watering was done. It was well past sundown by the time I was through for the night.

I grimaced up at the dark sky. "Crap! I'm late!"

I set the barrel down on barren land and kicked into the cool night air. The flight was only a couple of minutes but long enough to help me come up with an excuse.

I touched down just outside the front door and took off my muddy boots. The smells of Chichi's delicious cooking reached me the second I opened the door and my stomach let out an Earth-shaking rumble, alerting Chichi to the fact I was a little bit late.

"Goku!" she snarled as she waddled into the living room and put her hands on her hips.

I smiled apologetically and held my hands out. "Sorry, Chichi! Watering took a while. But the good news is we have a lot of food!"

Her glare softened into a smile. "Thanks to you. Now, come eat before the food gets cold."

Chichi, Gohan, Goten, and I chatted and laughed over dinner as I told them the story of the hungry dinosaurs trying to steal our food.

As soon as we were done eating, it was play time with Goten. We play wrestled in the yard, took a bath in the barrel, played with his toys in his room, and finally, he fell asleep slumped against me watching his favorite tv show. I carried him up to bed.

When I opened the back of my truck, the storeowner's mouth fell open. "That's your biggest harvest yet, Mr. Son!"

I chuckled and nodded proudly at my truck packed full of boxes. "This isn't even half of it!"

He laughed. "Well, if you keep growing delicious vegetables like these, I'll continue to buy them. What you bring in is very popular here."

I smiled as I got the first couple boxes out. "Great! That'll make my wife very happy!"

Not too long after, the truck was empty and the boxes were stacked just outside the village market. He tallied up the vegetables inside each box and then went inside.

When he returned, he handed me the usual white envelope. "Your payment, Mr. Son."

I pocketed the thicker than normal envelope and shook his hand. "Thank you!"

I got more money than ever. The expansions really paid off!

I capsulized my truck and jogged at a human pace well out of the village before kicking into the warm, early evening air.

Somewhere between home and the village, a surge of familiar {ki}rocketing away in the opposite direction snagged my senses. I stopped and floated in place. It was Gohan and it felt like he was in a hurry.

With my speed, I caught up to him in only a few seconds.

He glanced at me. "Hey, Dad."

"Hi, Gohan! Where're you off to so fast?"

He glanced at me. "Oh… uh… I'm just going to go see Videl. We have to study for this big test coming up."

I smirked knowingly as we flew—apparently toward Satan City. "Uh-huh. Sure. You're going to study."

His cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed. "Dad!"

I chuckled and wriggled an eyebrow. "Well, enjoy your study date."

He shook his head and continued on his way. I flew home.

I landed in our yard and frowned at the muffled shouting inside our house. "That's strange." I mumbled.

I opened the front door.

"—have to!"

A foot stomped and Goten yelled, "No!"

I walked into the kitchen. Chichi was dishing up our dinner and Goten stood next to the table, his little arms crossed and nose turned up. I didn't know what was going on, but I told Goten to mind his mother anyway as I sat at the table.

Chichi threw me a grateful glance over her shoulder.

"I hate meatloaf," grumbled Goten as he dropped into his chair and crossed his arms.

Chichi sighed and my eyebrows climbed. That attitude wasn't like him.

She gasped and winced as she rubbed her stomach. She waved me off before I got out of my seat, mumbling that it was just a kick.

Rounding on Goten, she put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Son Goten! Eat that or you can go hungry."

He stared at his plate in disgust but ate it anyway. Going hungry was a serious threat for a Saiyan.

Chichi took her seat but instead of eating, she pushed her food around her plate with her fork. I cast a long look at Goten and he shrank in his chair.

I had just the thing to lift Chichi's mood.

Once the boys had gone to bed, I handed Chichi a thick white envelope. "This is for you. It's from our first harvest since the expansion."

When she lifted the flap and peered inside, she gasped and stared at me with wide eyes. And then gave me a bright, beautiful grin.

By early June, Chichi was enormous. Just when I thought she couldn't possibly get any bigger, she did. But I'd never tell her that. Chichi's body looked to be stretched to the limit and she still had more than a month to go! The bigger she got, the less I wanted to leave her alone but I was pretty sure she'd send me back to Other World if I neglected the fields.

She did so much around the house—cleaning every. Little. Thing. Every nook and cranny. Every surface. Washing everything that could be washed in the washing machine. She even reorganized the kitchen and then reorganized it again when she wasn't happy with it.

She was a tornado of energy! I had no idea where it came from all of a sudden. She made me tired just watching her. When I asked her with a small voice to take it easy, her reply was a scary glare. But her back paid for it. She needed a back massage almost every night.

Days went by like that—where the only things she stopped for was to cook our meals and take one of her many bathroom breaks. Pregnant women had to go. A lot. She waddled back and forth across the house like a duck, leaving the place spotless in her wake and joyfully told me she was nesting.

And that nesting meant the big day was getting closer.

Keeping an eye on her, helping her out around the house, managing the farm, and going with her to all of her weekly appointments, and building what I was making for her out in Grandpa Gohan's cabin didn't leave time for much of anything else. I was busy but she was happy. That was what mattered.

I sat straight up, heart pounding. Instinctively, I reached out in the darkness for Chichi, patting around her side of the bed. But she was gone. I relaxed a little when I realized the loud growl that jolted me awake wasn't an animal in our bedroom. It was only my stomach. And Chichi was just downstairs.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and padded downstairs, following my nose.

The dim light of the open fridge spilled out around the kitchen, creating odd shadows that moved and danced with the pregnant woman digging around inside it.

Peeking over the door, I smiled down at Chichi who was on her hands and knees. She held a leftover chicken leg in her teeth as she pulled some boxes out of the fridge and shoved others aside in her search for her late-night snack.

She hadn't noticed me yet—until she stood up and closed it. She shrieked, the chicken leg falling from her mouth and the stack of containers slipping out of her hands.

Thinking fast, I snagged her snacks out of the air before they hit the floor and held them out to her with a smile. "Made yourself hungry doing all that cleaning, eh?"

She scowled and violently snatched the boxes and chicken leg out of my hands. "Dang it, Goku! Don't scare me like that!" she hissed.

I chuckled. "Sorry, babe."

Chichi wordlessly took two plates out of the cabinet and heated both of us up some food while she munched on her cold chicken leg. She chucked the bone stripped of its meat into the trash with a flick of her wrist and then dug into the fridge for another one and placed the empty plastic leftovers container into the sink.

There was already a dirty bowl and spoon in there. She never left anything in the sink overnight. She made herself one snack and then needed more! That explained the food dream I was jolted out of.

Sure enough, when we were seated at the table with our plates, she wolfed down her food, throwing her usual tidiness out the window. She attacked her food like some starving lioness attacking a carcass.

I laughed and rubbed her tummy as she ate. "Momma sure is feeding you both well isn't she? I'll bet that's why you're growing so fast."

I winked at her and she blushed, her pink cheeks cutely puffed out with food.

I wasn't surprised when Chichi finished her plate before I finished mine.

She sighed and her mouth split open with a wide yawn. She looked like she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore.

I shoved the last few bites of food into my mouth, grabbed the empty plates before she could fall asleep in hers, and put them in the sink. They could wait until morning.

In the short time that took, Chichi had nodded off in her seat and was in danger of sliding right out of her chair. I chuckled at her snoring as I scooped her up and carried her back to bed.

Strolling and waddling through the busy, loud streets of Satan City, Chichi pointed toward a large department store attached to a shopping mall. "There's our stop. These girls will need somewhere to sleep."

Inside, Chichi gushed and squealed over every single tiny pink, frilly outfit, snatching them off the racks as if she was afraid they'd disappear.

Another obviously pregnant woman waddled up to the same outfits Chichi was admiring, followed by a big, burly man—her husband judging by the rings they both wore—loaded down with a lot of bags in both arms.

The woman's husband and I exchanged looks, his plainly saying, 'get me outta here!' Judging by the amount of bags he carried, they had been there a while. I smiled in sympathy.

Our wives struck up a conversation about due dates, babies, and the aches and pains of pregnancy. I supposed human or Saiyan, there were some things that were pretty universal where carrying a child—or two—was concerned. Over the course of their conversation, I learned they were expecting their first child while Chichi joyfully told the other woman about the boys at home and our twins.

The big burly dude gasped. "Four!?"

I glanced at him—he was tall enough I had to look up a little bit. "Yep! Four."

The man stared at his wife with an open mouth and wide eyes.

I chuckled. "My wife wanted a big family. I'm excited! Being a dad is lots of fun."

He gulped.

Our wives giggled.

I was a little bit jealous when the other woman eventually announced their shopping trip was over. We were just getting started.

But Chichi's smile made the long, boring day of shopping worth it.

Before I knew it, June was over—flying by in an almost overwhelming flurry of activity. Helping Chichi with her endless nesting, getting the fields ready for the next planting, and weekly checkups with Doctor Ishi filled the month. Things were crazy at home.

Chichi kept me on my toes. Her energy was at an all-time high. She was even restless at night. Sleep didn't come easily for her despite doing what I could—soothing the babies when they kicked too hard with a gentle stream of energy and helping Chichi get comfortable in her mountain of pillows.

I got shoved out of bed a lot, waking up on the floor with a sore back most mornings. But I could deal with a sore back seeing Chichi finally sleeping peacefully. I slipped in a power nap when I could during the day whenever Chichi took a break from her constant, obsessive cleaning.

I yawned wide enough tears sprang to my eyes as I fixed a leaky pipe under the kitchen sink not long after breakfast. One more twist with my wrench and I was done, the new pipe sealed in place.

I shimmied out from under the sink and got up. After giving the faucet a test run, I rubbed my sore neck. "Ah, naptime."

"I don't wanna!" Goten whined somewhere upstairs.

"Son Goten! I want you to be successful in life. So study. Now."

"No!"

I frowned. "Sounds like Goten is arguing with Chichi again. So much for my nap," I mumbled to myself.

That had been happening a lot lately.

I went upstairs and stopped at Goten's doorway next to Chichi. He was on the floor surrounded by toys.

I crossed my arms. "Do as she says, Goten."

He glared at his mother next to me. "But that's all I ever do! It's always–" he made a face "–'your studies this and your studies that'. That's all you care about!"

"Goten! We want what's–!"

He exploded into Super Saiyan, his toys and furniture smashing into the walls. "Shut up, Mom!"

My mouth fell open as Chichi gasped.

In a flurry of his papers and toys and a burst of bright golden energy, Goten took off out his open window.

I growled and pressed two fingers to my forehead.

But dropped my hand when I heard a door slam just down the hall.

I sighed as I listened to Chichi's muffled sobs on the other side of our bedroom door. Instead of jumping to Goten, I jumped to her. She leaned against our door, her face in her hands.

Goten's time was coming but Chichi needed to be comforted first. I scooped her up and carried her to the bed. On my lap, Chichi bawled into my shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck.

I rubbed her back and kissed her head and let her get it out of her system.

When her sobs slowed, I shifted her onto the mattress next to me and wiped her tears away. "I'll go talk to him, okay? Just relax and wait here. He didn't go far."

She sniffled and nodded.

He was just on the other side of the mountain.

I stood up and focused on his ki signature with two fingers pressed to my forehead.

Goten was high in a tree and his back was to me. His energy was calmer, his hair black.

Hovering in the air a few feet behind him, I crossed my arms. "Goten."

He twitched on the branch and reached up to wipe his cheeks. He stayed silent.

I flew around the tree and stopped in front of him.

He kept his face down, hands fidgeting with his shirt.

"Look at me, son."

He didn't.

I sighed and floated closer. I stopped a little lower than he was so he wouldn't have a choice but to look at me.

He turned away so I grabbed his shoulders and his startled, wet eyes finally met mine. "That behavior isn't like you, son. What's gotten into you?"

He stayed quiet.

I lifted an eyebrow and kept my eyes on his. "Goten?"

More tears rolled down his cheeks. "No one wants to play with me anymore! It's all about the babies! And they're not even –" he sprang off the branch so fast I had to dart backwards as his ki flared "–here yet!" Bright golden light flared out from him along with a wave of heat—his little chest heaving and fists clenched.

His power was {incredible}. I couldn't help smiling proudly a few moments. With one big exhale, he dropped his transformation, dark hair falling back into its usual shape.

He lowered himself onto the branch.

I got down to eyelevel and put my hands on his shoulders. "Goten… things've been hectic around here but we don't love you any less!"

He was quiet for a short while and then asked, "Promise?"

I tickled his stomach and he let out a choked laugh. "Promise."

Goten launched himself off his tree branch and crashed into me, sobbing. "I'm so sorry, Daddy!"

I peeled him off me just long enough to look him in the eye and say, "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. Let's go home."

He nodded reluctantly. "Okay."

Inside, Goten apologized to Chichi to the tune of lots of tears from them both. She tried multiple times to pull Goten onto her lap but he didn't fit. One attempt ended up with Goten sliding onto the floor with a soft thump. They laughed and she eventually found a way to hug him as close as her ginormous tummy allowed.

She smiled up at me over his head, her big dark eyes more than a little bit wet. Thank you, she mouthed.

The next day, Chichi was upstairs getting ready for her party at Bulma's and Gohan and Goten were on the couch in our living room. Gohan was reading a book while Goten watched tv. I had my chance to let them in on my plan. As we talked quietly, our bedroom door opened and closed. We stopped our conversation as Chichi came downstairs.

My mouth fell open.

She wore a long, flowing dress in a floral sort of pattern with thin shoulder straps that left a little more skin exposed than I was used to seeing for outings. Her hair was up, but the bun was looser than normal, leaving little bits of soft hair framing her face.

She raised an eyebrow as her hands went to her hips. "Why were you and the boys whispering?"

"Uh… Whispering…?" My brain started working again. "Oh! Whispering! Heh-heh… it was just a game!" I glanced at Gohan and Goten. "Wasn't it boys?"

Gohan nodded—catching on. "Yeah! A game!"

Chichi's eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh." After several beats of silence, she said, "I'll make something quick for lunch for all of you but Bulma hired catering for my baby shower. I'll be eating there."

I put my hands on her slight shoulders. "Don't worry about us, babe! The boys and I will hunt and grill the meat outside. Plus, there are apples from that huge tree and all kinds of good berries in the woods. There's plenty, Chichi."

Bright, dark eyes crinkled. "Okay."

"Ready to go?"

"Yes. I'll call when I'm ready to come home."

It was a ten-second round trip thanks to Instant Transmission. The only reason why it even took that long was because I stopped to wave at Bulma, Panchy, Videl, and Eighteen.

Back in our living room, the boys and I grinned at each other and dashed outside. After an easy outdoor lunch, it was time to put our plan into action.

We stood at the entrance to Grandpa Gohan's cabin where I hid part of Chichi's surprise.

Two giant cardboard boxes containing the cribs Chichi picked out rested against opposite walls of the small cabin. They took up so much space, I had to pile up my tools and gardening equipment outside. I had to make room for the massive boxes somehow.

"I say we assemble the cribs before anything else. It'll be hard to maneuver them around the girls' room if we build the other furniture first," suggested Gohan.

I nodded. "Good thinking!" I rubbed my chin. "Now all we have to do is get these two huge boxes inside and upstairs without breaking anything."

We exchanged worried looks.

"Well… let's just go very slow. I think we'll be okay," encouraged Gohan.

The boxes were huge but not heavy at all—at least not for us. An image of the store employee staring at me with her jaw on the floor the first time I lifted them flashed through my head.

Gohan led the way and I followed as Goten kept the box balanced. Working our way carefully around corners and up the stairs, the first box made it into the twins' room unharmed. To my surprise, we made it upstairs fine with the second box, too.

The other big boxes and bags of baby clothes and other supplies were all stacked along the hallway and we set to work. After hours of following confusing instructions—and doing our best not to break anything—the cribs were finally up and pushed into position in the room.

I kept a careful eye on Chichi's distant energy as we worked, knowing I could reach her in a second with the slightest disturbance.

Gohan dropped a small mattress into one crib while Goten did the same in the other. "So far so good! What's next, Dad?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. What do you think, Goten?"

Goten floated into the hallway and pointed at another large box. "The dresser!"

"Okay, then! The dresser it is!"

The dresser went together much, much faster and easier. I had built a few of those over the years. I knew what I was doing.

The matching white changing table was super easy, too.

Another tricky part came with installing the curtain rod above the window. The boys were hovering on either side of the window, supporting the rod while I stayed back.

"About two inches higher, Goten."

He floated up a little higher and looked at me while Gohan supported the other end.

"Good."

I checked the straightness with the level and then grabbed the drill. "Okay… nobody move."

After a few quick screws, I hung the curtains, and then it was all small stuff after that.

We hung the butterfly themed decorations and tossed the pink and white butterfly area rug on the floor between the cribs.

The finishing touch was the white rocking chair I made for her days ago and hid in the cabin. She told me with tears in her eyes one night that she had to sell off the one she had for Gohan and Goten for money while I was dead. I wanted to build one for her that was extra special.

We stood in the doorway, admiring the babies' room.

"I think we did good, Daddy!" said Goten.

Gohan rubbed Goten's head. "Yeah… I think Mom's gonna love it."

"Me, too." I turned to look at the massive pile of empty boxes, torn packing, and plastic shrink-wrap in the hallway. "But now we need to clean all this up."

After the trash was taken care of and the boys headed out for some late afternoon fishing, I took one last look in the babies' room and smiled.

"Daughters."

The phone rang an hour or so later. It was time to go get her.

At home, Chichi led the way upstairs, carrying the first of many boxes of diapers while the boys and I followed with gift-bags full of baby clothes and other supplies.

Chichi reached the door to the twins' room.

Behind her back, Gohan, Goten, and I exchanged smiles.

She turned the knob and pushed the door open.

And dropped the box.

Silence. She didn't move an inch. Didn't say anything. Didn't so much as twitch.

Fainting usually went with that reaction. I put down the bags I carried just in case, but it didn't come to that.

After several moments of just standing there, Chichi finally moved. She covered her mouth with one of her hands and slowly walked into the room. Her fingertips brushed along the two cribs and the matching dresser and changing table. She reached her new rocking chair, her fingers lingering on the chair's arm.

And then turned to face us.

Shining, teary eyes stared at me, her hand still covering her mouth. For several heartbeats, I wondered if we did something wrong but my smile didn't have time to falter before she wrapped her arms around me and sobbed into my shirt.

[jollyviscreal666]

The New World(entry no.2)

It’s been 4 months since my last entry. I have been through a lot since then. Nothing short from my last adventure I there to described. I have been to two survival sanctuaries. Supposedly designed for safety. As well as the welfare of our planet and it’s newfound stats.

There is one thing prior to me of which I’m certain. The new world along with its events not only gives my life purpose as I have previously perceived, but rendered me a seemingly infinitely jubilant soul. That’s the only way I can put it. Whereas to others it does the opposite based on what I’ve experienced. Fortunately, I’ve met people at the third sanctuary, counting the first where I was left for dead, that have similar feelings. I am going to recount my experience at the scientific institute in which I was a potential resident.

Honestly, I fell like this sanctuary held more sentimental feelings of dread then the previous events that followed up to it. I refer to the base. I didn’t kill nearly as many infected, yet the only thing that feels infected is my tolerance. I’m struggling to find out what about it is. Perhaps the near un perceivable amount of carnage left me baffled in a brutal way. Watching people I know along with friends I made turn into delicacies for the endorsed maniacal infected denizens. This was the real deal. This institute. You supposedly get used to the carnage. But I’m this infected world, getting used to constant carnage is like getting punched in the nuts when you’re the toughest guy on the planet. And it only gets worse.

I did make one ally before I arrived to the next sanctuary. The pilot I rendered under my command to do as I said. He goes by Don. He made his living in this new world by offering his skills in the form of services in exchange for supplies and a shelter. We left the armored vehicle in a spot we considered to be decent as we flew over the supposed mine field. I had my sniper ready and I told Don to be on high alert. Then after we landed and as we were scanning the place, we established a friendship after a 20 minute conversation. I was happy I found someone to relate to. The last person I could relate to was Bryce Reyes and I have no idea where he was. I still don’t.

We were getting ready to turn back. Then we spotted an SOS smoke marker. The white smoke drifted into the air with a steady pace. We decided to make our way to it. We were heavily armed one could say. Me with a suppressed glock and him with a suppressed beretta. We also carried a primary weapon. Me with an SIG Saur sniper rifle, and Don with an G 46 assault rifle. Near the bolt operation mechanism near the top, was a stamped imprint labeled: SiG Sauer SSG 2000. It was a pretty handy weapon. It was my first time using it. I had used my glock to eliminate nearby infected who we stumbled upon. We agreed more than likely it signifies that there’s got to be a pack of them somewhere nearby. So we proceeded with caution. Soon we reached the source of the signal. Although there seemed to be no sign of survivors. I thought maybe it was too late.

It was a house. Like a fancy residence building. Something you’d expect a mayor of a town to live in.

We were right about the pack. They were lingering about, in and out, and through the two story house. As usual with defected bodies with cut open parts and blood dripping. They were too focused on something to draw attention to us. Although I was sure one of them gave a glance to our presence. I picked off about 30 if them, leaving me with 1 more clip. I placed about 10 more clips nearby discreetly. I equipped two, leaving me with 15 rounds, plus my suppressed glock. I was confident it was all I needed to clear the area. Then again, there could be more packs waiting inside. I told Don to retrieve the armored vehicle and the copter so we could escape when necessary. I also told him, I was going to explore the area by myself. He questioned it. But I shrugged it off and told him his role was more important. He took off.

As I advanced towards the estate, I realized the smoke was coming from inside the house. I reached the door. I opened it. I lied my eyes upon 3 strangely figured infected individuals. Their faces were caved in and had a strange bone crest on their forehead. They made some kind of hissing sound. Their spine seemingly protruded from their backs, but not hard enough to brake their rotten skin layers. Two of them were feasting on featureless corpses who’s first two layers of flesh had been completely removed. The one closest to the door I just opened, opened it’s mouth slightly and some colorless saliva type liquid dropped on the corpses featureless face. I looked closely to see the skinless corpses face meat layer slowly deteriorate. But only very mildly so. Then the skinless corpse slightly moved a limb. It’s forearms as well. A third skinless corpse was missing its lower torso. On the left side of its face all the meat layers have been removed revealing its skull eye socket. It barely moved as well. Its rib cage hung out and some normal infected feasted on the remaining origins of that deceased individual. Blood was smeared all over the floor.

These corpses they were feasting on looked fresh. As if it only recently occurred. The crest headed infected closest to me then threw his head in haste at me and snarled. Mouth dripping with the strange liquid. I aimed at its head and fired. It’s crest prevented the slug from entering its brain. It charged at me. I dodged its ram as it hit the wall. It then surprisingly backed up and began gargling. The other standard infected individuals took after it in a sense of leadership. I could tell it was going to projectile that liquid my direction. I hastily boosted my body for cover. I used a standard room door detached from its hinges. Thankfully the knob was still on it. I held onto it. The liquid seemed to have eaten through the wood as termites wound do. But only 8 minutes after. 4 seconds after the liquid hit the door, I rammed it as hard as I could. Which wasn’t very hard cause of the weight.

The crest heads moved significantly faster than the standard infected. Still not as fast as runners though. The crest head fought to reach me from the other side. I decided to blind the fucker and destroy its jaw. The 3 standard infected followed shortly behind. I also took its fingers off disabling its slash attacking ability. I carefully counted my last 3 rounds in my glock as the standard infected individual increasingly advanced. It had no sight , no jaw, and no fingers. Still it somehow sensed I was close to reaching a dead end in the hallway. It thrashed about. I dropped the antsy standard dead head behind him accurately. Then I realized the only way to kill it or destroy it was to remove the head from its body. Right then and there I knew I needed my Sauer rifle to do so. I detached the suppressor of the Sauer rifle. I didn’t want to take any chances. I needed to fire fast and efficiently. Not accurately. Not then. It was harder than I had previously perceived. It took 3 shots to create a crater in its neck near the Adam’s apple, knocking it out with other fleshy parts all over the place. The 3rd shot definitely slowed it down. It was beginning to get weaker due to the near slight detachment of its neck. But it kept itself moving. I had 2 more rounds left. I apparently got lucky because the first shot I landed dislocated the remaining flesh tendons from its deep cratered neck. It’s head hung from meat tendons. Some with fresh dead flesh on them. I landed a final shot. And believe it or not it was a lucky shot as well going through its sternum to its head after exiting the back of the sternum. The last standard zombie approached in a curious manner only to have a bullet plummet through its skull. The last remaining in the living room of the house was a crest head. He was chewing on the corpse of the skinless corpse before. Only now it was only a drenched skeleton with pieces of meat hanging off of it. I’m almost glad they’re that stupid. I would appreciate more of a challenge but every scruff I get into with these dead heads, I risk my life. Technically I do anyway. I put a slug in its upper side of its head.

For a moment I thought it was over. Then I heard a scream. My combat sessions with the undead seemingly attracted a lot of infected. They more than likely followed the flare signal marker smoke then smelled the trapped individual upstairs. I looked to split, but the entrance was getting blocked off by dead heads. I inserted the last clip I had for my glock handgun. I was very careful to land perfect headshots as I progressed to find a way out. I equipped my combat knife at the ready as well for personal close encounters. I thought I was done for. There were too many and they kept poring in. Then Don arrived in the armored vehicle and mowed them down with a SAW light machine gun. I was very grateful. I owed him one. I got in the armored vehicle with him and we sped off. We drove back to the helicopter. Don flew the helicopter of course. Me, driving, we stayed in contact via radio connection by an external input where it was compatible with our vehicles.

After about an hour of searching, we finally came upon what looked like to be a standard amateur survival camp. Needless to say, it’s members were not present at the time. Then we stumbled upon a trail. It seemed like these survivors have relocated. We followed the trail briefly just to be safe. Guns at the ready. To our surprise, there was an open field. It had been covered in trees until someone cut them all down. It’s anyone’s guess as to why. Before we advanced, a human figure zoomed out at us with wit and skill. Me and Don fired a couple of rounds and missed. He put his hands up. He had a crossbow on his back.

“Don’t shoot, I’m here to help”! He blurted out. We kept our guns on him.

“My names Zach and I can help”?

“What do you mean? What are you doing out here”? I questioned.

“Just surveying the neighboring grounds is all” Zach replied. He removed the crossbow from his back and put it on the ground humbly.

“What happened to the folks of those camps”? I asked.

“Some rabid gangs have been trying to take over these parts for awhile now. Many groups tried to fight back and it became a bloodbath. It’s under control now. We took care of it”.

“Whose we”? I asked.

“Wait, How come you showed up just before we were about to go on that field”? Asked Don suspiciously.

“I was just about to get to that”, stated Zach.

“It’s a fucking mine field. Product of all that stuff I just told you. I tried to save you”.

“Thanks”, I said plainly.

“Where’s your base”? I asked him.

“I’m not really supposed to tell survivors about it”, he said. Before he could continue, I spoke.

“Hold that thought”. I went to grab our trusty armored vehicle that has pulled us through for a good while. I showed him our weapons and explained how we could be of use. He generously agreed to introduce us to his base. I asked him how far it was. He said with our vehicle it would take no longer than 8 minutes.

The base turned out to be a cdc scientist institute. According to Zach, it was once a hospital. Then after the breakout it became a safe haven for survivors, doctors, and scientists alike. The leaders of the institute had made many reconfigurations to the place prior to the breakout. Especially after things settled down and the first wave of survivors attempted to reach salvation, I’d imagine. They called it the Obin institute. Not sure why, though. The institute is at least a couple of kilometers more wide than the first base and had a bigger antenna sticking out of the top. Some state of the art shit, I imagined. Definitely larger and seemingly more advanced than the last bases antenna. And for an hour after we arrived once I’d seen it, I had hope this would be our salvation. Needless to say, it wasn’t even close.

Like the last base, the institute had its own security military type style personnel. There were actually 3 branches in the institute. The first one, or the main priority rather, were the doctors and scientists who did the research prior to the outbreak and continue to do so. The second, were the security personnel, armed to the teeth. No different than last base. Although this one had more guards. The place was bigger and seemed to deem some sort of importance. We would find out soon. The dress code for the security forces were different than the previous. They were a darker shade of blue. Some wore hazmat type light plastic wear, and some just leather dark blue. Sometimes they even wore hazmat masks when guarding closed to survivors section or other secret studies. This caught my attention. Most bothered not to give a care.

That day, at the lunch table, we met two remarkable individuals.

“What do you think the deal is with the freaky cdc type masks the security are wearing”? I asked Don quietly. Don looked over to them guarding the entrance. There were two sets of them. One guarding the back exit, and one the sections of the institute entrance. Specifically, the scientist doctors headquarters.

“It’s probably part of the agreement. You know how this new world makes people act”, stated Don.

“I hope this place isn’t locked down on policy personnel procedures”, I said.

“I’m more worried about what they put into this food! I mean...who do you know who cooks something like this”?! Exclaimed Don.

“I’m about to launch a complaint file to the kitchen zone so they can get their shit together”, he continued. Then a friendly female voice spoke seemingly out of nowhere.

“You’ll eat what they give you, period. There’s not many options to getting your ways here at this place. I’m Anne”. Next to her was a fairly built male.

“This is Jerry, you must be new”, she said.

“I’m Josh and this is my friend slash pilot Don”, I said. We got acquainted. She and Jerry explained the physical layout of the institution. There were 6 sections of the whole institute. The first was the main HQ. Then came the work stations of the survival personnel including education sessions for young ones about the outbreak, the infected and whatnot. Then there was the security HQ. Next comes the vital Research labs stations filled with doctors and scientists for their work. Then the waste and trash compartments where the sewer pipes lead and where infected remains were disposed of, as we learned. The last two are vital as well with one of them being secret kept by the main scientist doctor organizers of the institute. The secret one was where they kept the genetically altered infected we learned later. Their goal was not just to solely find a cure but to explore the genetics and possibilities of the infected due to research and study. Implying that they had a group of hyper intelligent infected in there somewhere. Locked up. Kept secret from most of the personnel of the institute. Only few doctors knew of it. The last one was the last resort plan which consisted of a self destruct room with all kinds of explosives. Not just the shrapnel kind. There were rumors of nuclear warheads. This was top secret info. Me and Don figured it out prior to the institute outbreak before Jerry and Anne..... well we’ll get to that.

Apparently survivors were called in for monthly check ups. This made me feel uneasy in a place as organized and strict as this. It didn’t feel right. There were rules and rewards for those who ace their check ups. More privileges were attained. More freedom and whatnot. About 68 percent of the time in the institute was idly social. The rest was work and eating(also partly social). Jobs and assignments were based upon what the scientists and doctors needed for their current research. For the good of the survivors, the institute, mankind and whatnot. You were required to work and assist the institute if you wanted to stay there. It was fairly paced and gave survivors free social time. It went well for most and seemed to be a good fit. Except for the check ups. After awhile, the four of us started noticing that every now and then someone would not return from their check up. The institute was very sly about this. They did their best to keep the survivors distracted and lied to them. Then they promoted the suspicious ones and whatnot. We even fell victim to this a couple of times. Then we decided to do something about it. In the course of a month, we became acquainted with a devastated individual by the name of Dean. We were very sympathetic towards him. His little brother had been gone for almost two months. He was distraught. We came up with a plan. It needed to happen sooner or later. Because we knew whatever they were doing was in favor of the research this facility was conducting. And boy were we right.

We took a huge step. If was a huge risk. Very dangerous if we got caught. We eventually made it to the depletion of dangerous chemicals department. You didn’t need special clearance to get in. Also implying no electronically locked door was in the way. This proved to be their downfall. However, they never expected anyone to rebel such as we did. We ran into the remains of his brother and several other survivors we were acquainted and even befriended by. One by the name of James was diced up from his knees to his upper chest, most of his body missing. Dean and two other friends were distraught. Dean couldn’t help but to release a mild outburst. Whatever he hit, he activated the mini mechanical machine like tubes connected to the clean un operated head of the dead one called James. The head made an unearthly screeching sound and it’s eyes rolled to the back of its head. It vibrated. The diced meat and organs of James in a blender type compacter, began turning the diced pieces into liquid. Blood spat out of the heads mouth. Then strained out the ears, nose, and eyes with intense flow.

“Turn it off!”, screamed Dean. I spun to the crew and told them now is the chance to escape and start a battle to fight for our lives against the institutes personnel. They gave it all they had. Right after the incoming security were ambushed and killed by us. We took their weapons and got ready for the next wave. We apparently forgot to double tap one of the corpses from the first wave. Unbeknownst to us ,the viral infected didn’t attack us. It knew. It just wanted to feed. So it messed around the blender compacter as we massacred the second wave. Eventually it got the lid open and detached it. It went to town and drank from it like a smoothie from heaven. How did I know? Well I could hear it. I was just too busy killing assholes to pay attention to our unwanted guest. Eventually the greedy fucker took a chunk out of Gabe right before vomiting a single series of its smoothie and head right on us. Then we blew its head off, obviously.

We made it to the announcement room baring only 4 casualties counting Gabe. We had a defector in the kitchen slash HQ. He set the area on fire, metaphorically speaking. Soon all hell broke loose. Me and Don were lucky enough to retrieve our vehicles as they were confiscated and defected by the institute. It was a huge battle. Very savage and violent. Survivors versus security personnel. Luckily, the institute wasn’t prepared for the onslaught, meaning however many survivors died, we breached the scientist doctor HQ research experimentation area. Many of the survivors, knowing what the doctors were responsible for, lead them to their horrible deaths. Such as drowning in the blood, guts, and remains of infected, slow brain frying, quartering procedures designed for infected and so much more. It seemed we were triumphant. A lot of it was because of me and Dons defense play I’ll admit. With my infamous armored vehicle and it’s weapons. Especially cause we found a cannon that fits onto the vehicle. We killed many. However, as the threat of the security died down, there was the evident threat of the oncoming infected attracted by the battle. Thousands at the gate to the institute.

It wasn’t long until someone discovered the secret room. I never got to see what it looked like and part of me is glad I didn’t. However the intelligent infected became loose. There were 4 of them. Two looked to be of African descent. One bald the other with a Bob Marley hairstyle. Their mouths were covered in blood. The haired ones jaw was hung ajar. But it’s hand flesh and muscle were chewed off until the end of the forearm. The fleshed out bone wasn’t a hand but more of a fingerless implant of some sort of sharpened chain piece it seemed. The other two were American militarily generals it seemed. Right after the infected made their way in, me and Don were mowing down wages of oncoming infected. Anne and Jerry were with us at first but realized they needed to prevent the outside infected from finding other ways to breach the institute. They always do. As usual we had the unfortunate luxury of witnessing their deaths. Jerry mowed down the two military generals who had managed to kill and mutilate 8 survivors. Almost killing Anne as well. Then he was decapitated by the zooming smart infected with the chain piece. Anne attempted to mow it down. It apparently made a circle where it met up with the other one. They each stabbed their limbs(hands with arms)into both of her sides. They ripped her in two staring from the middle. The middle of her body as well as her chest became separated, creating a hole in her body in which the hole spread as a tear to her neck and downwards to her groin as well. Until she was separated completely in two. Her blood and insides of her body lost their gravity the instant it happened. I then also witnessed a guy get his heart ripped out and eaten by them almost as fast as when they killed Anne. He was alive and watched them eat it. It was time for an endgame to get the hell out of this place. Unfortunately, there was still more to witness before we were free. Infected just being themselves. And people used to think that was a good thing.

We realized more deadheads were becoming apparent because the two smart infected have cracked some infected attracting tech of which I am familiar with. Although I wasn’t surprised they had it here. So we attempted to locate the source. We attempted a shortcut we believed to be plausable. It just lead to another infected hellhole. Although this time there was plenty to see. This is all I recall: a torsoless rotter with intestines dangling out the side of its ribcage was feasting on a dead security mans torn open thorax, slowly. Then an obese infected with its giant stomach layer flaps open. It’s ribcage was visible and it held its intestines as did two other legless infected. It stared at me viciously. It put its intestine in its mouth. I observed all this very quickly. Then I looked up. It only got worse. There were dozens of blood covered infected seemingly taking other more rotten infected apart to either connect more limbs to already limbed infected for fun, or attempt to put the disassembled rotten infected back together. They used intestines to tie the body parts in place. Many intestines. It was as it appeared. Whether they were successful or not is something we’ll never know and I pray you never will. That’s all you need to know. We hauled ass out of there. The smart one eventually caught up to us. The other ‘artists’ reaching out to him slowly. Him zooming by without regards. We stayed in the vehicle. It ran from one side of the vehicle to the other, tirelessly. A helicopter came by. We were lucky to find a un designated route out of the compound. We thought we got luckier. Nope. It was a high ranking doctor who did business with the institute. He almost killed Don, but I got him in time. Knowing how many trackers were in the copter, we blew it up. We took off. The dead, arriving like vultures. Nothing really changes anymore once you think about it. We’ve been searching for gas for awhile now.

[temperkitten7-blog]

2018 Review Thingo

Belated happy new year to you! For the tenth year on the trot, here is the Annual Review Thingo. Previous episodes: 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011, 2010 and 2009.

1. What did you do in 2018 that you’d never done before?

made two new friends who live in the next village. Walking distance pals: the holy grail!

took a beginner’s sewing class (swore a lot)

consistently attended both Pilates and yoga classes… after years in the exercise wilderness I’ve found some love again!

had a brilliant trip to Green Mountain in Vermont as a guest blogger to work on my binge eating stuff.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for this year? I chose a word for the year, Outside: “I literally want to get more fresh air, but also looking to get outside of my head and outside of my comfort zone”. This turned out to be a handy anchor and it was an adventurous (for me!) 12 months.

I haven’t felt drawn to any words or particular plans for 2019 thus far. I’m happy to just rattle along for now and make sure I keep the twinkle lights twinkling.

3. Did anyone close to you die? No.

4. What countries did you visit? USA and Australia.

5. What would you like to have in 2019 that you lacked in 2018? A stronger lower back and more blogging.

6. What dates from this year will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

February 8 – Snowshoeing in the dark at Green Mountain with all senses singing and an overwhelming feeling of being in the right place.

April 28 – Gomez concert. Closure for my 2002 self who accidentally chucked out Sydney tickets! #dumpsterdivingfail

May 3 – Day of the Missing Ziggy. My heart sinks to my shoes just thinking of that horrible long empty night she went AWOL, both G and I worried what we’d talk about without that furry grump in our lives. Lucky for us she was only trapped in a garage, four doors down.

Gomez at the Barrowlands, April 2018

7. What was your biggest achievement of the year? On paper it would have to be my positive progress on the BED recovery stuff. – I’m chuffed with how much has changed for the better. But sewing that bloody zipper bag really felt like a triumph 😉

I’d set a goal to make six crafty projects in 2018 – an attempt to try something new that had nothing to do with work or “self improvement”. At the time I mentioned on Insta my stages of learning:

wild enthusiasm

overwhelm

panic

thinking up excuses to run away (cat emergency? credible?)

small moments of success

mistakes

swearing that you think is only in your head but actually out loud

un-fecking-picking

grim determination

starting over.

Despite all that, by December 30 I had six small objects that didn’t exist before, that look alright from a distance!

I’m still working on a scarf that I started knitting over Christmas 2017. Once I’d used all the yarn up it didn’t feel long enough, then it took a few months to track down more. Now it’s too long, but I feel compelled to get through this extra ball so I’m just carrying on! I reckon Lenny Kravitz might like it when it’s done.

Newbie projects: drawstring bag, 2 x cushion covers (one patchwork; one origami style where I did half the folds the wrong way round), sunglasses case, lavender eye pillow and the zipper pouch.

8. What was your biggest failure challenge? Righto, questionnaire whose origins I can’t remember, I’ve changed that word above because language is important 😉 The biggest challenge by far was #9 below.

9. Did you suffer illness or injury? A month after returning from Vermont, buzzing with rediscovered exercise joy, I injured my lower back on a hike that was in retrospect too lengthy for my fitness level. For the next six months I couldn’t walk, sit, or stand for longer than five minutes at time without unleashing a world of teary agony. So I rotated between the three like the world’s most BLOODY BORING triathlon.

I’ll spare you the details but it made things, especially work, quite difficult at times and my mental health got wobbly. But after much trial, error and super strong painkillers, I got in with an awesome NHS physiotherapist and we’re now on a good plan for healing!

It’s been an exercise in patience and acceptance and prioritising, I tells ya. I’m in the midst of Project Strengthen Back, Butt and Hips – and unlike with my dodgy knee ten years ago, I’m actually doing the physio exercises religiously! I’m now back up to walking a good 20 minutes without pain and feeling much more chirpy.

10. What was the best thing you bought?

Cabin Zero carry-on backpack – I got this in 2017 and after a year of regular use I still love it. On short trips I find a small wheelie suitcase can be more trouble than it’s worth. Best example, when in London visiting my sister, it’s easier to squish this bag onto my lap on a busy bus than wrestling a suitcase. It fits heaps inside it, has a laptop bit, is comfortable on your back when walking around, and tucks easily into the overhead locker on the plane.

Fleece leggings – my Canadian pal Jilanna got me onto these – like trackydacks/sweatpants, but leggings so it’s like getting the warmest, cosiest hug for your pins on a super cold day.

Leuchtturm B5 dotted notebook – bigger than a pocket notebook but smaller than A5, this is a brilliant size notebook for random lists. The soft cover makes it light to tote around (every gram counts with a dodgy back, mwahaha.)

Lisa Eldridge Velvet Morning lipstick – my favourite orange-red since Lady Danger

3 metre USB cable – so I could charge the phone and use it at the same time without acrobatics. Genius!

11. Where did most of your money go? Airfares.

12. What did you get really, really, really excited about? The Americans final season. What a masterclass in TENSION! The brilliant series finale was so stressful my teeth were actually chattering. As handsome as Mr Bodyguard was, I think Matthew Rhys was ripped off for the Golden Globe for Best Actor the other day!

I love character-driven shows where people grow and change over a stretch of years – the kind of shows that invite deep obsession. I love the routine of watching each episode, poring over online recaps and discussions and podcasts afterwards, dreaming about the characters, and of course, worrying about them years after the show has ended, as though they were real. This show gave me six years of quality obsession and it’ll be hard to ever find that kind of love again. 😉

13. What song will always remind you of this year? Fitness by Lizzo. She would have been my most-played artist on Spotify in 2018, if not for Gareth’s prog and 80s metal cluttering up the mix. We have started the new year with separate accounts, as painful as that was for his thrifty sensibilities!

14. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? Happier.

b) richer or poorer? About the same.

15. What do you wish you’d done more of? Fiction reading.

16. What do you wish you’d done less of? Staying up too late on a school night.

17. How did you spend Christmas? Quietly, in London with the nearest and dearests. Festive dining while watching Home Alone and Jaws on the telly. We did venture out for a walk at one point, then came back for trifle and Home Alone 2!

18. Did you fall in love this year? Oh aye… with these Ottolenghi oven chips with Greek oregano and feta! I first saw these on Nigella’s Instagram a few years ago (they hark from Australian chef George Calombaris) but it wasn’t until I borrowed Simple from the library that I made them. SO GOOD. Crispy in a way I’d never known oven chips to be before.

Ottolenghi chips with feta and oregano

19. What was your favourite TV programme?

Halt and Catch Fire – I watched the first season a couple of years ago after Jason Kottke wrote about his love for it and how he got to be an extra. The first season didn’t grab me so much, but then I saw a few articles that urged to stick with it, for it gets goooood. And it did! It zoomed right into deep obsession and my top 5 series of all time. You may start watching HAFC and think, this is just about two geeky dudes building a computer. But it blossoms into soooo much more. If you grew up alongside the internet it’s cool to watch a show that covers that evolution, but really it’s the characters that got me laughing and crying and utterly hooked.

The Americans – as per joyous ramblings above.

Salt Acid Fat Heat – Unbridled enthusiasm is by far my favourite quality in a person and I could watch the luminous Samin Nosrat talk about food all day. I really hope she makes more programmes soon. If she made one episode per every good thing to eat in the word, I’d tune in. We could start with Cake Laksa Chocolate Bagels!

Mortimer & Whitehouse: Gone Fishing – this was such a funny wee series in which comedian Bob Mortimer (who I crush madly on) is introduced to fishing by comedian Paul Whitehouse. Both of them had recently experienced heart conditions. Each episode has them go for a fishing lesson where they muse on both life’s big questions and minutiae. It’s addictive and touching. My favourite moment was when they cooked dinner for a cardiologist and asked him, “Which one of us do you think is going to die first?”

Billy Connolly: Made In Scotland – in this brilliant two-part documentary Billy talks about his early life in Glasgow, his career, growing older, and his Parkinson’s. It’s hilarious and poignant without ever being sentimental.

Also enjoyed: Sharp Objects, Spiral, Press, Killing Eve, Queer Eye, Feud and Mozart in the Jungle. The latter is one of those shows that I forget about between seasons but always enjoy when it pops up. Classical music, New York City, and Gael García Bernal – you cannae go wrong!

20. What was the best book you read? The Life to Come by Michelle de Kretser. It follows the lives of five Australians, their lives entwining or briefly brushing past over time. I cackled and/or squirmed at the savage observations about writers and expat Australians. Cheers Kim of Reading Matters for the rec!

21. What was your favourite film? I watched Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri on a plane and loved it. I probably should watch it again though as I’ve found when I rewatch films I saw on planes they’re often not as good on the ground, because I’m always a bucket of feelings on a plane. Anyone else get like that!?

Catching up on older films: I enjoyed Arrival and Grand Budapest Hotel.

22. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 41 and it was a quiet and unremarkable day. But the following weekend I went out for tapas with two dear pals and that was spectacular.

23. What kept you sane? Ziggy pats and funny friends.

24. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Lee Pace in Halt And Catch Fire. Even in the 1995 episodes with his terrible hair and glasses that reminded me so much of dot com folks from back in the day.

25. Who did you miss? In June I had an all-too brief trip to Australia. It had been over five years since the last one, and that was too long! I want to prioritise getting back more often because it’s so bittersweet seeing people after such a long gap and realising so much has happened since the last catch-up.

Source: https://www.shaunareid.com/2019/01/2018-review-thingo.html

[fluffyshua]

baeee i saw u writing prompts, so i have come. ~ “Hey… I can’t believe you actually answered.” ~ for post breakup jihoon or junhui [probably jihoon since it fits him better though] and make it angsty please. i love youu waifu 💕

This story is clearly fiction, and I do not own Seventeen or any of its members.

Only for you wifey Sorry this took so long tho ‘:3

Word Count: 1660

Pairing: Reader x Jihoon

Tags: Angst, Prompt 14

Jihoon was sitting down on the floor during practice, staring at a photo on his phone.

His members eyed him, warily, worried about him.

They knew that Jihoon had just come out of a long-term relationship of three years, so obviously, he was upset.

As normal, he didn’t show it.

But the members, knowing him, could see the pain and unhappiness in his eyes. His eyes no longer shone like the stars that you and him would go and watch weekly. They were dull, as if the only light in his world had been covered.

And there he sat, scrolling through the multiple photos that you two had taken, over the years, full of joy, happiness, and, of course, plain love.

The members heard him sigh, dully scrolling through the photos, slowly, until he stopped at a specific photo. It was actually a video of you two, snuggled warmly on the couch. Jihoon himself was sleeping in the photo, but you were staring at him, and occasionally you would kiss him on the forehead, cheeks, nose, lips.

You had laughed silently with the person taking the video, which was your roommate that had come in, and videoed you two, seeing how cute you were together.

Jihoon reminisced back to the time that you had sent him that video, when he was mad at you. You sent the video, and all of a sudden, appeared at dorm, taking back the hoodie that you had stolen, which was also what made him ‘mad’ with you.

All of a sudden, with tears were streaming down his face, he quickly got up, and nearly ran out of the practice room.

A hushed silence fell over the room, as the other members exchanged looks with each other. Most eyes fell onto the mom line, and they got up, and left.

Jihoon had run to the bathroom, and locked himself in a stall.

The tears were flowing out, non-stop, and it hurt so much. His heart was clenching, and this knot in his stomach kept tightening, causing his tears to flow out. His mouth was dry, and his throat hurt from crying out.

He hated crying. It made him feel weak, and vulnerable, and alone.

He held his head in his hands, with his sleeve collecting all of his tears. In his bout of crying, he didn’t hear the door open, or the hushed voices outside of the stall.

“Hey,” A soft voice outside of his stall spoke. It was quiet, and soft, like how someone would talk to a baby. Jihoon sniffed back in reply, trying to stop his tears. He recognised the voice to be Jun’s.

“Jihoon-ah, come out.” Another voice came out. It was significantly brighter, trying to cheer him up. It was Jeonghan’s.

This other knot formed in his stomach, which he identified as guilt.

Guilty for ruining the members’ day. Guilty for making it awkward in the practice room. Guilty for bothering them.

This knot was tightening, and he cried out in pain, and plainly refused to open the door.

“Jihoon, open the door at least.” Jun pleaded, hating how hurt Jihoon was. Even if Jihoon wasn’t always the brightest or happiest, his eyes had always sparkled and shined.

Now, they were dull. He looked at everything with this sense of half-heartedness, and Jun hated it. He absolutely hated it.

It took them a while, but Jihoon eventually opened the door to them, while sniffing and blowing his nose with the toilet paper.

Jun instantly stepped forwards, and wiped away his tears for him. “Do you want to go back to practice?” Jeonghan whispered, pulling them out of the bathroom stall, into a wider space.

Jihoon shook his head, thinking about how he probably ruined everyone’s mood.

“Okay then, I’ll take him back to dorms, and you go tell everyone that he’s feeling sick or something.”

Jeonghan nodded, before leaving to go tell the members, which left Jun and Jihoon.

Jun smiled softly at him “Let’s go”

———

They were in the car, which was currently sailing through the roads, as it was 1AM and completely empty.

Jihoon picked up his phone, and was about to turn it on when Jun snatched it out of his hands.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Jihoon pouted and looked the other way, glad that his phone wasn’t in his hand, or he would have definitely started scrolling through those photos again (and definitely would’ve started crying again.)

At the end of the car ride, Jihoon was getting off, putting his phone, now returned from Jun, into his pocket, when he felt it vibrate.

It was you.

Calling him.

You, of all people. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

He looked up, to see Jun looking at him, and Jihoon whispered to him, not trusting his normal voice to not tremble.

“I’ve got to take this.”

Jun nodded, understanding.

“Come in soon though, it’s cold,” before retreating into the warmth of their dorm.

He cleared his throat, and tested out a few ‘Ah s’ to see if his voice was strong enough, and quickly, he accepted the call, knowing you were the type to grow impatient while waiting on phone calls.

Lifting his phone to his ears, he heard a gasp. It was quiet, and slightly muffled, but he knew your voice when he heard it. After all, it was the same voice that he had fallen in love with, which sang him to sleep, and talked him into a cheerful day.

It was also the same voice that had made him cry so many times, and broken his heart, soul, and spirit, he thought bitterly.

“Hey…” you whispered into the phone, “I can’t believe you actually answered…”

You were shocked. So shocked that, in fact, it almost helped you sober up. 

You had been drinking, distraught over the way you had broken his heart, and that caused you to drink away all of that guilt. You definitely hadn’t expected him to answer your calls.

Even though that the two of you hadn’t talked in real life, face to face, for about two-three weeks, he could sense that your voice was definitely slightly higher-pitched. Which meant that you were drunk.

Immediately, he honed in onto you.

“Are you drunk?”

You blushed more than what you thought was humanely possible. He always knows. (A/N: Internal facepalming time.)

“N-n-no, I’m not.” You lied through your teeth, stammering. You did not want him to feel pity for your sorry state, especially not while you were the one that had done such awful things to him.

You heard him sigh, and you knew that he was definitely rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“You are definitely drunk. I’m coming to pick you up. Where are you?”

“No!” You shouted into the phone, causing many people in the bar to look at you. In the corner of your eye, you could see your friend, who was a bartender laugh silently at you, and you flushed in embarrassment.

You could hear that he was surprised, and slightly distressed(?).

“W-what, why?” Jihoon never stuttered, unless he was obviously embarrassed.

“Just because.” You barked into the phone, instantly regretting your drunk state, which was actually stupid enough to call him. “And I’m sorry for disturbing you, ignore me. Goodbye.”

And with that, you ended the call, even more self-conscious about your actions.

To say that Jihoon was shocked, was an understatement. He was completely baffled, astonished, flabbergasted, whatever, with his mouth hanging open, type of surprise. Also, he was slightly annoyed, to say the least.

He marched into his dorm, and told Jun that he was going to pick you up.

Jihoon could feel disappointment ooze out of Jun’s pores, but he ignored that, and left telling Jun that he might be back later, but no promises.

Once outside again, he felt the cold seep into his skin, causing him to shiver.

He bent down, tied his shoe laces, pulled up his hoodie, and started to jog.

He hated himself at these times. You had cut him off, and broken his heart, but he would still go to you like a bee to a flower. He would always be there for you, and you could do anything to him, but he would still love you unconditionally, and because of that, he hated himself.

He jogged for a while, before stopping in front of a tiny bar. He knew that you would be in here, accompanying your friend, who was a bartender.

He took a deep breath, and he pushed open the door.

Inside, the bar was warm, even though it was almost two in the morning. Cigarette smoke and alcohol hung in the air, filling the bar with a lively atmosphere.

Instantly, his eyes zoomed in on you, with your head in the crook of your left arm, your right hand clutching a beer.

Her friend motioned for him, and whispered for him to ‘Get you out of here’ since you were, apparently, ’taking up bar space.’

Jihoon slung your arm over his shoulder, and dragged you outside, all while flagging down a taxi.

How there was still a taxi at this hour was beyond him, but he still got in.

“Drunk girlfriend problems?” The driver chuckled, watching him plop you inside of the taxi.

Jihoon forced a smile, “Yeah.” That would save him having to explain anything.

He told the driver your address, and sat himself down.

He looked at you, and as he sat there, watching your sleeping form which had a soft smile on your lips, he wandered to himself, was he really that weak that he would go running back to you, even if you had broken, not just his heart, but all of him?

Thinking to himself, maybe it won’t be that bad.

Maybe he could deal with this pain.

Even if you weren’t his lover, but just a friend.

As long as he had you.

He could forget the pain.

WHAT IS THIS???

It sounded like a jihui fanfic at the start, didn’t it? just for my wifey

I might write a second part, I don’t like the ending. It gives me anxiety.

I need to title it too, what should I call it.

[krisiunicornio]

Yacht parties and bikini bodies got you down? Here's how to get out of the funk.

I photoshopped a picture of myself once. Okay, maybe more than once.

I’m not talking about adding filters or erasing stains from my shirt. I’m talking vacuuming away parts of my stomach, arms, and even a little thigh. When I gave my husband a virtual tummy tuck, he finally forced me to check myself.

“You can’t talk about self-love and authenticity and then use photoshop!” He was horrified. And then I was, too.

I whole-heartedly believe we’re each put on this earth in our own unique bodies to express our true Selves. And through platforms such as teaching yoga, writing, and using social media, part of my job is to help people realize this. I teach the self-acceptance and body positivity—but I wasn’t always practicing it.

What the bleep was I doing erasing a few pounds with the swipe of my finger?

For the honest answer, we must take a little trip back in time.

I have been dieting since I was 9 years old. Even now, while I may no longer count calories or weigh my broccoli, I still watch every morsel I put in my mouth. I was a child of the early nineties—the era of the supermodel. Pictures of Claudia Schiffer and Cindy Crawford lined the walls of my room. My mum modeled, too (along with her many other careers), and I coveted her air-brushed headshots, just as I did every single page of Vogue.

I wish I looked like that.

Wow, she’s so beautiful.

Why am I so ugly?

These were the lyrics that played on repeat in my head. Not exactly the anthems we want for our children.

The pressure of perfection is a force so strong it can flatten us, if we let it. Literally. It will drain out our color, wash away our texture, and suck us down to some sort of washed-out, skeletal, carbon copy of a Barbie doll.

Under ever photoshopped picture is a human being. A real person, who’s every pore, every wrinkle, every scar, every pound, tells a unique story.

Unfortunately, these are the stories the media does not want us to hear. If we did, we might never buy another beauty product again. Instead, corporate interest spins a golden yarn of the unattainable: the “perfect” woman, the “perfect” man. And the messaging is so loud and pervasive that we absorb it without even trying. Like a top 20 hit you’ve somehow memorized without ever intentionally listening to the song.

See also 5 Poses to Inspire More Self-Love, Less Self Smack-Talk

One day, you find yourself looking at a picture you just took, and instead of seeing the glory in your unique story, you see all your perceived flaws. So, you download an app on your phone that allows you to become a sliver of that “perfect” ideal with the click of your thumb. And like magic, all of the insecurities, the negativity, erase from the screen. That was easy!

But to truly love ourselves in a world that tells us we are not enough is not easy. It takes great courage. It is a rebellious act. It means ignoring the toxic messages and beauty ideals and accept ourselves as we are in this moment. It means looking yourself in the eye in the mirror saying—and really believing—“You are beautiful.” Not because we are thin or tan or have poreless skin. You are beautiful because there is no one in the entire universe that is like you! And nor will there ever be again.

So, the next time you take a picture that you are going to share to the world, I dare you to not add a filter. I dare you to not adjust or alter the image in any way. To share your story in all of its glorious detail. You do not have to be afraid, for I will stand with you. Or hands held, our faces clear, and our soul’s bright.

See also  5 Ways to Radically Love Yourself Today

Here are some tools to help you avoid the perfection trap:

1. When you take a picture, look at the whole picture. 

How often do we take a picture and immediately zoom in to inspect ourselves? Think about group pictures: What is the first thing people do when they look at one? They focus on themselves and their flaws. But it is our imperfections that make us beautifully who we are. I’m a sucker for a big nose and a crooked smile. As Leonard Cohen says in his song “Anthem,” There is a crack in everything/ That’s how the light gets in. When you take a photo, try to see the entire image—the complete scene. Remember where you were, who you were with, and how you felt. Pictures should capture memories not project fantasies.

2. Delete image-editing apps from of your phone. Remove the temptation! 

When I am not being mindful, my desire for perfection can border on obsession. Couple that with social media addiction and it’s a recipe for disaster. At one point, I had 10 different apps on my phone for altering images. 10 different apps! In the same way it is helpful to not have alcohol in the house when you are on a cleanse, removing the apps relieves the temptation. Instead, fill your phone with apps that help you grow creatively. Try learning a new language, playing brain games, and listening to interesting podcasts. Take more pictures of your dog.

3. Unfollow people who trigger you. 

I stopped buying fashion magazines a long time ago because of how bad they made me feel. Even though I knew the images were altered, I could not help comparing myself to supermodels' stick figures. Nowadays, these types of images pervade social media, and because they appear in someone’s personal feed rather than a magazine, we think they’re real. It’s much harder to deciphering what is fake. If you find yourself constantly feeling bad from looking at someone’s posts, it might be time to stop following them. Instead, find people to follow who leave you feeling empowered and inspired.

4. Get off social media and into the real world. 

One of my favorite things about teaching yoga is looking around the room and seeing all of the different body types. If we all looked or practiced the same, life would be so boring! When I look up from my phone and back out into the world, I find myself in awe of how beautiful everything is, from an 85-year-old walking with their 10-year-old grandchild, to a couple smooching on a park bench. Look around to see just how varied and unique and interesting we all are. Life is beautiful!

5. The next time you take a picture, look for one thing you love. 

As mentioned above, we have a tendency to home in on what we think are flaws. We zoom in, looking for something wrong. The next time you take a picture, instead of looking for what to fix, look for what you love. If you cannot find anything at first, look at the bigger picture. What did you love about that outfit? That location? Who you were with? Start to train your brain to see the beauty. This can (and should) start in the mirror. One of my favorite self-love practices is to say one thing I love about myself every day. It doesn’t have to be physical, either! The more we learn to love ourselves, the more love we have to give others. 

[cedarrrun]

Yacht parties and bikini bodies got you down? Here's how to get out of the funk.

I photoshopped a picture of myself once. Okay, maybe more than once.

I’m not talking about adding filters or erasing stains from my shirt. I’m talking vacuuming away parts of my stomach, arms, and even a little thigh. When I gave my husband a virtual tummy tuck, he finally forced me to check myself.

“You can’t talk about self-love and authenticity and then use photoshop!” He was horrified. And then I was, too.

I whole-heartedly believe we’re each put on this earth in our own unique bodies to express our true Selves. And through platforms such as teaching yoga, writing, and using social media, part of my job is to help people realize this. I teach the self-acceptance and body positivity—but I wasn’t always practicing it.

What the bleep was I doing erasing a few pounds with the swipe of my finger?

For the honest answer, we must take a little trip back in time.

I have been dieting since I was 9 years old. Even now, while I may no longer count calories or weigh my broccoli, I still watch every morsel I put in my mouth. I was a child of the early nineties—the era of the supermodel. Pictures of Claudia Schiffer and Cindy Crawford lined the walls of my room. My mum modeled, too (along with her many other careers), and I coveted her air-brushed headshots, just as I did every single page of Vogue.

I wish I looked like that.

Wow, she’s so beautiful.

Why am I so ugly?

These were the lyrics that played on repeat in my head. Not exactly the anthems we want for our children.

The pressure of perfection is a force so strong it can flatten us, if we let it. Literally. It will drain out our color, wash away our texture, and suck us down to some sort of washed-out, skeletal, carbon copy of a Barbie doll.

Under ever photoshopped picture is a human being. A real person, who’s every pore, every wrinkle, every scar, every pound, tells a unique story.

Unfortunately, these are the stories the media does not want us to hear. If we did, we might never buy another beauty product again. Instead, corporate interest spins a golden yarn of the unattainable: the “perfect” woman, the “perfect” man. And the messaging is so loud and pervasive that we absorb it without even trying. Like a top 20 hit you’ve somehow memorized without ever intentionally listening to the song.

See also 5 Poses to Inspire More Self-Love, Less Self Smack-Talk

One day, you find yourself looking at a picture you just took, and instead of seeing the glory in your unique story, you see all your perceived flaws. So, you download an app on your phone that allows you to become a sliver of that “perfect” ideal with the click of your thumb. And like magic, all of the insecurities, the negativity, erase from the screen. That was easy!

But to truly love ourselves in a world that tells us we are not enough is not easy. It takes great courage. It is a rebellious act. It means ignoring the toxic messages and beauty ideals and accept ourselves as we are in this moment. It means looking yourself in the eye in the mirror saying—and really believing—“You are beautiful.” Not because we are thin or tan or have poreless skin. You are beautiful because there is no one in the entire universe that is like you! And nor will there ever be again.

So, the next time you take a picture that you are going to share to the world, I dare you to not add a filter. I dare you to not adjust or alter the image in any way. To share your story in all of its glorious detail. You do not have to be afraid, for I will stand with you. Or hands held, our faces clear, and our soul’s bright.

See also  5 Ways to Radically Love Yourself Today

Here are some tools to help you avoid the perfection trap:

1. When you take a picture, look at the whole picture. 

How often do we take a picture and immediately zoom in to inspect ourselves? Think about group pictures: What is the first thing people do when they look at one? They focus on themselves and their flaws. But it is our imperfections that make us beautifully who we are. I’m a sucker for a big nose and a crooked smile. As Leonard Cohen says in his song “Anthem,” There is a crack in everything/ That’s how the light gets in. When you take a photo, try to see the entire image—the complete scene. Remember where you were, who you were with, and how you felt. Pictures should capture memories not project fantasies.

2. Delete image-editing apps from of your phone. Remove the temptation! 

When I am not being mindful, my desire for perfection can border on obsession. Couple that with social media addiction and it’s a recipe for disaster. At one point, I had 10 different apps on my phone for altering images. 10 different apps! In the same way it is helpful to not have alcohol in the house when you are on a cleanse, removing the apps relieves the temptation. Instead, fill your phone with apps that help you grow creatively. Try learning a new language, playing brain games, and listening to interesting podcasts. Take more pictures of your dog.

3. Unfollow people who trigger you. 

I stopped buying fashion magazines a long time ago because of how bad they made me feel. Even though I knew the images were altered, I could not help comparing myself to supermodels' stick figures. Nowadays, these types of images pervade social media, and because they appear in someone’s personal feed rather than a magazine, we think they’re real. It’s much harder to deciphering what is fake. If you find yourself constantly feeling bad from looking at someone’s posts, it might be time to stop following them. Instead, find people to follow who leave you feeling empowered and inspired.

4. Get off social media and into the real world. 

One of my favorite things about teaching yoga is looking around the room and seeing all of the different body types. If we all looked or practiced the same, life would be so boring! When I look up from my phone and back out into the world, I find myself in awe of how beautiful everything is, from an 85-year-old walking with their 10-year-old grandchild, to a couple smooching on a park bench. Look around to see just how varied and unique and interesting we all are. Life is beautiful!

5. The next time you take a picture, look for one thing you love. 

As mentioned above, we have a tendency to home in on what we think are flaws. We zoom in, looking for something wrong. The next time you take a picture, instead of looking for what to fix, look for what you love. If you cannot find anything at first, look at the bigger picture. What did you love about that outfit? That location? Who you were with? Start to train your brain to see the beauty. This can (and should) start in the mirror. One of my favorite self-love practices is to say one thing I love about myself every day. It doesn’t have to be physical, either! The more we learn to love ourselves, the more love we have to give others.