#ris could do that and still have energy left over

[princelylove]

Risotto’s physique isn’t meant for running. He's too heavy, and big, it makes him slow- but he can work for extended periods of time without any fatigue.

He hates the idea of playing chase with you. Risotto understands that you have a lot of energy and need to get it out, but he'd rather not spend an entire morning trying to wrangle you. You can probably wiggle your way around him for a while, especially if you have any sort of prior training, but once Risotto has a proper hold on you, it's over.

Risotto's grip is firm, although loving. He doesn't intend to hurt his darling. Think of it like restraining a cat that needs their nails trimmed. You're not getting away, this is for your own good, but the intention isn't to hold so tightly that it hurts.

If Risotto is slow, how can he catch his darling if he finds himself interested in someone that does some kind of running sport or agility training? There's advantages and disadvantages depending on the type of running his darling is used to- he can tucker out a short distance runner, but can he close the gap between himself and a long distance runner?

Risotto may be slow, but he's steady; Risotto thrives in endurance and stamina. You can run, sure, but can you last? Long distance runners typically don't sprint for an entire marathon- it's about pacing yourself. Sure, you can sprint for some portions, but eventually your body is going to demand a break. Long distance running is quite literally all about stamina, but running (a minimum of) 3 km / 1.9 mi is different from being chased by a 203 cm / 6'8" man for however long it takes.

There's an easy way out of this, but he doesn't want to use his stand to catch you. Metallica is painful- why would you use a trap to catch a rabbit when you want it as a pet, not food? Risotto's gentle nature forbids him from directly harming his darling, but he has no issue with restraining them. Some animals instinctively submit when you touch them a certain way- will you calm down if his hand is on your throat? Around your wrists? No, no, he shouldn't, he doesn't want to frighten you off, the second you view him as a predator, he's done for. You'll never trust him.

So this game you keep playing- chase, he calls it- is majorly stressing him out. He doesn't want to follow behind you like a wolf would, but if his sweet, little doe insists on playing this game, he has no choice but to play along.

He won't discipline you. He spoils you in that sense- you get away with bad behavior because he can't bring himself to raise a hand against you, or really scold you, or even lightly tap your wrist. He gave Prosciutto the responsibility of disciplining the rest of the team because he wants nothing to do with that- but his darling isn't a team member, and he refuses to give your care to someone else, so it puts him in a difficult situation. How can he punish you when he understands that you're only behaving this way out of fear?

He guesses there's nothing he can do but humor you. He always catches you, and he'd find you if you were to slip away, so it's fine. That doesn't mean it's any less stressful for him, but he'll keep doing it and will take more precautions when he brings you back home.

Risotto's physique is good for a lot of things (namely the ability to haul heavy objects for long periods of time), but it isn't perfectly well-rounded. He has good mobility, endurance, strength, and coordination- but isn't very flexible. Perhaps it's a personal bias of mine, but when I imagine men with Risotto's physique, I typically don't think of flexibility as being their strongest point.

Flexibility isn't something Risotto thinks about often- he doesn't need to be flexible to protect you. You cannot push his legs back without him making that needy, initially uncomfortable expression- but he lets you anyway, as long as you’re happy. Truthfully, Risotto would prefer to service you, but he gets off on you using him freely. It makes him feel wanted. Not that he’d ever say that- he’s terribly shy.

After all, it’s a bit hard to tell someone “I want you to think of me as your sex toy sometimes.” It certainly isn’t romantic- and Risotto would prefer to keep things romantic. He’ll keep it to himself, for now.

[updatebug]

Anyone else desperate for some Pok Gukgak POV of the meeting Riz in hell scene, or just me?

It was a relief to feign unconsciousness.

Pok was used to torture. It was part of the job. And for all that they had hellfire and menace, the denizens of hell it seemed, were no more inventive than the monsters he’d met in Spyre. Pok was very used to withstanding pain. And anyway, he’d been killed by a dragon. Fire was practically an old friend.

What he wasn’t used to was ‘Pok’ being tortured. All those others had been on the job, a different name, a different person, a person who didn’t have a wife or a son, who couldn’t have them used against him. His cover almost cracked when they brought up his wife and when they mentioned Ri – his son. His son who should have nothing to do with the horrors of this place, he fumbled his words, barely managing to recover before the pit fiend could notice a weakness.  

As they left the pit fiend snarled something about Seacaster and Pok filed that away in his mind for later as the door slammed shut. And then he was alone, slumped on the floor of hell and bleeding. One step closer to completing the mission.

A brief flicker of coolness, and then something in the room changed. Pok’s ears pricked at the faint sound of too-fast breaths as whoever had appeared in the room stood over him. An Imp, maybe? He was being moved? They had mentioned Seacaster.

The footsteps moved closer and the breaths hitched, a soft waver in the rhythm, and then there was click – a lock being opened. Pok was far too well trained to frown, and kept himself limp as whatever it was leaned over him. His nose twitched, a faintly familiar smell reaching it, ink and gun oil. A click from the door, followed by a snarl and the figure above him froze for a single moment, before reaching for Pok again. There was a scuffle above him, the scorching heat of a demon – wait, no, two of them – suddenly back and over Pok as the figure was pulled away. Pok cracked his eyes open and – no!

Riz.

It couldn’t be Riz.

One of the devils had his son by the scruff of the neck, pulling him back as his son twisted and tried to writhe free, panic on his face. In his hand he was clutching on open briefcase, the second devil holding the other handle as it tried to yank it way from him and Riz clung desperately, claws scratching against the leather. His other hand was still reaching for Pok.

A familiar calm fury washed over Pok.

He wasn’t armed. He didn’t need to be. Riz had visited the graveyard enough times – he knew where his son had kept his gun.

He slipped the arquebus out of its holster, felt the familiar weight of the gun in his hands for a second – fully loaded – and fired twice.

The devils fell backwards, Pok didn’t see them hit the floor, eyes fixed on his son’s face. Riz staggered as he was freed, staring back at Pok just as hungrily, there was blood on him, bruises on his skin, tears on his clothes. His eyes were red, like they were holding back tears – the cold from earlier, he’d misty stepped in, he’d been beyond the mirror, what had he seen? What had he heard? – Pok didn’t take his eyes off his son as he slapped his hand to his ear.

“This is Gukgak, I need an extraction.”

He barely waits for a response, letting of the little seed of angelic power that had been buried deep, deep beneath his ribcage and feeling the halo snap into place behind his head.

Riz’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open disbelief and profound relief storming across his face to be replaced by sheer delight. Pok reached out, grabbing his son’s shoulder finally, finally touching his son.

“Kid, I can’t believe you made it here,” he managed, holding his son tightly. The fear, the horror he had felt at seeing his son here, in hell, in the hands of those devils, buried beneath the sheer, overwhelming joy of just seeing his son.

“You’re an undercover angel?” Riz yelped.

“You got it kid,” Pok agreed, and celestial energy slammed into them, snatching them both away from that place.

Pok wrapped his arms tight, tight, tight, around his son, and let the light carry them away.

[twig-gy]

‘why are you digging?’ i don’t think you understand the mechanics of digging, actually. scrabbling for purchase against the dirt. cause it’s this or open air. i need to hold onto something.

i didn’t understand what it was like, when i saw you sway. you needed… something. you refused the wall, you refused to scrabble [like an animal]. you walked and held your head up high and if you ever stumbled only allowed yourself an extra second with your face against the [dirty] floor to recover.

anyway, that’s then. now i couldn’t watch if i tried, though i’m sure it’d be something new. you don’t dig but you let yourself lean against the wall, cause it’s not like there’s room for pretenses. you save your energy, trying to recoup someone (something? someone? some- fuck it, it doesn’t matter, right, right? ri) that cannot be. i, or maybe the proper term is he? no, i - am gone, except for this, this moment, this lapse, break in foundation, mistake in pattern, offcolor. explaining the unexplainable, or maybe it’s just not explainable in my words, or maybe the explanation is beyond all words. you know, i sit in my room (i’ve finally chased him off. i want him back, even though it’s been seconds or minutes or - time is beyond us all, you know? i want him back, something in me aches for him, and it isn’t something, it is everything except for the one fault left which says these things, which locks the door even if soul, all i could ever want, all i have ever wanted, everything and everything and - except for you. except for you. you could never be him. and i detest that and yet sometimes i am able to appreciate what you are. sometimes, sometimes, it’s all about sometimes, now). i sit in my room, and i wish i could see, so i could see what my hands look like against your throat, the purple - sharp, dangerous, though i’ve learned more ways to hurt (make anew, this is not hurting, this is not hurting you fool, Fool, this is making anew, this is supposed to be and always has been, this is holy, This Is -) than when i used them - nails, mine. mine? is my body mine still? no, because of the bruises on my neck and the lipstick on my cheek? no. no, because it was never mine.

language spotty and meandering and twisting, you know the center it careens towards right? i can’t find myself putting them in lines, the sentences, the words, ‘identity’, cause i know none of my words could matter so much as my actions, so much as the dirt under my nails, digging, digging my grave cause i know this is my grave. you think i don’t know? do you? (who are you. tell me. what do you think i am.) (i could never have so much presumption as to name myself. i don’t know, I DON’T KNOW ANYMORE, TELL ME! I NEED TO BE TOLD! and i have been told and i’m sure he’s right, just except for how i’m oh-so-sure he’s wrong and i need to run into your room and lock the door.) regardless. i know. regardless of whether it’s right or not i know. i don’t know what scares me more, the lapse, the fault, or everything surrounding it. this is right, except for how wrong it is, how wrong it is to indulge in something other than Him. i was always meant to be hollow. i can’t believe i tried to fill myself with an identity i am not beholden to.

soul pushes me down, smooths over my cheek with his thumb, smearing the already-smeared lipstick. i’ve learned to breathe in the water. sometimes i can think past it, even if for just a moment, and think about his smile. i know he’s smiling down at me, as he whispers sweet nothings my ears can’t comprehend. i wonder what his smile looks like, far more than i wonder about you actually admitting your feelings, stilling against the floor.

he’s right and everything else is wrong. fallacy.

you know i love him, right? you know he loves me? you say he’s breaking me. (sometimes i think you’re right, but-) he is not. he is arranging me how i always should’ve been. and you think- you think that this is all for Whole, and of course it leads back to Him, but did you know i love him, and he loves me? he’s never kissed you the way he does me, cradled your head, smiled against you. you’ve never felt soul allowing himself to be happy. you’ve never felt him properly.

if only you believed. i want you. i just want this more. but i’m sure, if you believed, you would love him just as much as i do. this is supposed to be shared. never me without you. never soul without you.

i’m so tired. i wish you were here. i would lean against you as i digged our grave, interlock our dirt-covered fingers. it would be nice. it is nice, with soul, it’s just - not the same. okay? okay? are you going to come back? anything besides Whole was always a pretense. just get out of that bathtub. cleanliness was always another pretense. and i know you’ll hate that, but you won’t have to hate it for long, and i’ll be there digging our grave with you, dearest. okay? come back?

(maybe next time you tell me the truth i will hear it.

what a funny joke, isn’t that, dearest?

this is the truth.)

[rahuratna]

Ikemen Kaisen

Chapter 2: Come into my Parlour

Cross posted!

Summary: A cursed spirit develops a massive crush on the 7:3 sorcerer while he's on a mission. Trapping him in its unique otome game domain, the spirit soon discovers that its bitten off a lot more than it can chew with this particular jujutsu sorcerer ...

Content: Humour, fluff, crack, otome game satire, Nanami has Rizz with a capital 'R', the first year trio obtaining front row seats to this absolute shitshow.

It had been there, for just a minute. Something tangible that had fled when he was frustratingly close. Nanami blew out a small, exasperated breath and continued his steady evaluation of the crowd before heading back up to the VIP box. Maybe a bird’s eye view might reveal something telling once again. The feeling of uneasiness did not leave him, though. If anything, the sensation of wrongness, of eyes with ill intent tracing over his form, grew stronger. Nanami had not reached the status of Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer without listening to his instincts. Ignoring that inner voice was a surefire way to get killed in this profession.

Yuuji was now seated and making a show of wiping his brow and re-hydrating. The young sorcerer-in-training had done a commendable job of keeping track of the stage. He waved to Nanami when he caught sight of him.

“Nanamin! Do you want some candy floss?”

“I’ll pass, Yuuji. But you can hand over that soda.”

Sipping from the soggy paper straw, Nanami turned to observe their surroundings as Yuuji leant toward him and spoke in quieter tones.

“It’s not Ryo-ri. I’m sure of it. I watched him like a hawk the whole time he was up there. Especially when he called that girl on stage. There was nothing weird going on at all. The cursed energy spike was someone from the audience.”

“Someone or something.” Seeing Yuuji’s concerned look, Nanami shook his head. “If it was a person, I would have found them.”

“Wait, you’re saying it’s a cursed spirit?”

“Likely. The cursed energy was very subtle, definitely sensory in nature. It didn’t seem particularly strong, but raw strength is not always an indication of how dangerous something is.”

“It’s not? That’s not what Gojo-sensei said.”

“With all due respect, Gojo-sensei is the last person you should take your assessment of caution from. The entity, whatever it was, must have picked up that I was searching for it. There’s a level of awareness at work here that should always make one careful. “

Suitably chastised, Yuuji nodded. “Okay, okay, I get it. So what do we do now?”

“There’s something else I should mention too. Since I’ve been down there … I’ve been feeling a sensation of watchfulness. Of something waiting.”

The boy’s eyes widened slightly. “Is … is it …”

“Probably. But I can’t be certain. So, what do you think we should do, Yuuji?”

The boy sat up straighter, eyes taking in the crowd that was now thinning as people made their way back out of the venue.

“I wanted to say, maybe wait for everyone to leave and then search for cursed energy traces … “

“But?”

“But if you sensed something … waiting, then the girl who went on stage is priority, right? Even if we scared off whatever was here tonight, it might be waiting for an opportunity to strike. She could still be in danger.”

Nanami felt that small twinge of pride, yet again.

“Exactly so. She’s currently backstage, meeting with Takashima as part of her supposed package. We’ll place her under surveillance and won’t let her out of our sight until we’ve established that she is at no risk of being targeted.”

“But Nanamin … “ Yuuji still looked worried. “You said that the cursed spirit may be … aware. Intelligent, like those ones we met before. Won’t it just wait until it’s sure we’ve left and then go get her?”

“That’s correct, Yuuji. Which is why our surveillance isn’t just a means to keep her safe. We’re hoping that she baits the spirit out, somehow. The emotion this cursed entity may feed off is the heavy envy that was coming from the audience. That’s probably why it was difficult for us to identify. Spirits are harder to detect when in the overwhelming presence of the very emotions that birth them. Remember that. Away from the crowd, and with a single-minded purpose, it may be much easier for us to track and isolate.”

Yuuji nodded, eyes alight with renewed determination.

“Roger that!”

Nanami and Yuuji hung around the VIP box until the young woman who had been taken backstage to meet Ryo-ri exited. If they hadn’t been paying attention, she would have flown completely under their radar. The flowing, vivid green tresses had obviously been a wig, because her natural hair was short and dark. Her clothes had also disguised her athletic build. Yuuji put her down as a professional stage performer. She had a distinctly disgruntled look on her face, certainly a far cry from the tearful ecstasy she had shown during the concert earlier. Nanami rose, nonchalantly discarding the soda can and gestured to Yuuji to follow.

She was obviously in something of a hurry, her grumpy demeanour translating to a quick, impatient stride. They followed her at a safe distance, watching as she made her way through the conference centre main exit and out into the same street they had walked along earlier. After a short distance, she pulled her phone from her bag and began to text rather aggressively, then took a sharp turn and entered a Seven-Eleven nearby. Yuuji took initiative and popped into the store behind her. As he browsed the shelves, he glanced over her shoulder and saw that she was texting someone from her agency, judging from the symbol in the profile picture. He read the messages for as long as discretion was possible before moving past.

She’s pissed off because Ryo-ri didn’t even bother to meet her after the concert. And it sounds like she’s not too happy with the agency for the arrangement either.

Choosing a random packet of crisps off the shelf, Yuuji glanced out the window to where Nanami stood on the pavement a short distance away. The sorcerer was on a call and a deep frown was marring his brow. Once Yuuji was out in the street, Nanami turned to him with a displeased expression.

“Dang, what did Gojo-sensei do now?”

“How did you – never mind,” Nanami sighed heavily. “He’s received an urgent summons from Kyoto. He was supposed to be overseeing a training exercise for Fushiguro and Kugisaki. They’ll be joining us on our mission instead.”

“Oh! I mean, the more people, the better right? They’re both strong – wait. I see what this is,” Yuuji grinned. “He’s got you for babysitting duty.”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched.

“I’m not denying that those two are capable students. They’ll be a help, no doubt. And as much as I prefer to keep to a specific course of action, I suppose this is unavoidable. Having said that, I can’t abandon our current target.”

The young woman they were tailing had now stepped out of the store and had resumed her walk. Yuuji nodded sharply.

“Understood, Nanamin. I’ll head to the station to pick up Kugisaki and Fushiguro.”

“You remember the tracking app we installed on our phones? I’m turning mine on right now. Use it to find my location once they’re with you.”

“Right!”

Now this. This was heavenly.

Fuck Ryo-ri. A sad, little boy like that, shaking his crotch at every other bitch on stage? What could he possibly offer? No, no, no. I won’t settle for that. How could I be so … blind. This. This is what it’s all about.

Now, just look. Here, in his natural habitat, we see an absolute S-tier, top class, prime specimen of a man. Look. Just look.

From the moment he turned to face me in the crowd, I knew. It must be fate. That chiselled face, that aristocratic nose, that firm mouth and that chin. Oh, that beautiful strong chin, just waiting for a feminine finger to trace its outline. Clean-shaven, too. Just imagine what he looks like, shaving in the morning. Standing at his sink in his vest and underwear, running the blade along his throat …

Oh my. I mustn’t get too excited, oh no. Earlier, I tried to measure how broad his shoulders are and I’m sure he sensed me. Heehee. Speaking of which … sigh. When he shrugged off that coat a short while ago …  

That. Ass.

Goddamn. Praise the celestial craftsman who moulded those exquisite cheeks. Wasn’t there a poem like that? Where did I hear it before? Strange. Something about ‘did he who make the lamb make thee?’ Oh! That poem.

Well, this tiger can bite me any old time. So tall, too. And his hair … like spun gold. So perfect. Look how it moves as he walks. It’s like every time he takes a step, the cherubs of the wind are blowing each strand gently back into place. This is … a real man. His essence is all man. The way he was taking charge of that pink-haired boy and looking after him too, ohhhh. Daddy material, absolutely so.   

And his walk! Ohhhhhh. His walk! So confident. I just know he’s big down th - wait. I mustn’t let my focus slip. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. There’s no better opportunity than this! Now, where did I put that phone … here it is!

Oi, bitch, pick up.       

Once Yuuji had left, Nanami had resumed the surveillance on the young agency employee. She was certainly putting in the miles today and her path had taken her away from the main thoroughfares to a less populated area downtown. Here, there were no fancy coffee shops and brightly lit boutiques. Most of the stores didn’t even put out signs to advertise their wares. Many of them were situated on the bottom floor or basement level of run-down apartment blocks. Nanami noticed that the woman’s pace had slowed somewhat, and that she would sometimes check her phone before moving on.

Is she looking for directions? Where to?  

The agency she belonged to was nowhere in the vicinity and she looked like she was a little unfamiliar with this area, so she was definitely not going home.

Even though the evening was chilly, the coat Nanami wore was a little too heavy for such prolonged walking, so he shrugged it off and slung it over his arm. The moment he did, something began to feel … off. There it was again, that eerie sensation of being watched. Of alien eyes crawling over his form. Was the cursed spirit here already? That certainly hadn’t taken very long. He took a breath and relaxed his muscles, allowing his awareness to filter into his surroundings. It was something he had learned in his younger days as a sorcerer, this release of tension before expecting an attack. It helped one be more reactive to danger from any direction.

And then, the woman’s phone rang. She answered hastily, irritation colouring her tone. Nanami stepped into a narrow alleyway nearby, close enough to listen in.

“Hi, yes, it’s me. I’m … yes, I’m on my way. Excuse me, but are the directions you gave correct? It’s just, I’m somewhere downtown, and I don’t really know any reputable agencies in this area. No, no, I’m not … listen. Yes, I’m interested in the audition, but I – oh. Well, all right then, I’ll be there shortly.”

An audition? Here?

Nanami was instantly on high alert. Something was very wrong. Even if she was contacted for an audition, this area was not likely to house some kind of performance art studio. Furthermore, the disappearances of the other girls had been kept under wraps by law enforcement and their own agencies, to prevent public panic. So she wouldn’t be aware of the danger she was in.

She’s been lured here. But by whom? Is this really a cursed spirit? Is it advanced enough to put into motion a plan like this? That would make it –

Nanami had just managed to rip the blade from its holster underneath his sweater before the domain expansion engulfed him and the woman, a shockingly subtle rush of cursed energy that barely rippled the surface of reality. There was no mistaking what it was, however. If the spirit did not possess high levels of cursed energy, like he had deduced earlier, then maybe he could break through with sheer brute force. He raised his blade, energy flaring to life in powerful currents beneath his skin, bringing it down in a heavy, measured slash.

The borders of the domain rippled before annealing in softly glowing edges. Nanami dashed forward, skidding to a halt beside the unconscious form of the young performer. He took up a defensive stance, eyes narrowing as he took in their surroundings.

“Show yourself.”

The voice that answered was surprisingly young and girlish, a slight lisp accenting certain words.

“You want to see me?”

“This is your domain. You’ll have to show yourself sooner or later.”

“Welll … all right then. If you ask like that.”

A form stepped from the shadows. Shadows that had not been present a short while ago.

“Welcome. I – “

Before the spirit could finish its sentence, Nanami had swung his sword in a horizontal arc, slicing the apparition in two.

“Who do you think you’re dealing with? Show yourself. I won’t be fooled by illusions.”

There was a short period of silence. The fabricated walls of the domain around them began to shudder, changing form. Nanami frowned as he picked up the sensory feedback from all around him. As he thought, this spirit was certainly driven by strong, uncontrolled emotion. His attack had made it … happy? And why was the domain itself so resilient, considering that this spirit definitely did not have a great deal of raw cursed energy and power? Where was it drawing its strength from?

He pushed one foot out, nudging into the slumped form of the young woman lying on the ground beside him. He had to keep track of her if a fight was on the cards. Instantly, the emotions reflecting from the domain around him changed to something distinctly less … pleasant.

“What is she to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That girl. There, on the ground. What is she to you?”

“I’m not sure I understand your question. All you need to know is that I will not let any harm come to civilians.”

“Oho. So that’s it. You are indeed an … upright man.”

Nanami had encountered a great many cursed spirits in his time, but there was something about the sibilance of those last words that made his hair stand on end. The domain was rapidly changing now, in a twisting, disconcerting manner that was dizzying to watch.

“First, let’s take things to a more … intimate setting. This place feels so exposed.”

Gritting his teeth, Nanami felt his legs root themselves to the spot, entirely not within his control. Something large and dark was rushing toward him and he leaned back, flicking his sword out in a fine, controlled line along the wall of the alleyway behind him. It was all he had time for before weightlessness took his limbs and darkness claimed his mind.

“Guess I’m stuck with you two goons. As always.”

Nobara unwrapped a chocolate bar and took a large bite. Beside her, Megumi scowled.

“I’m the one who should be saying that.”

“I said it first, buttface.”

“Your maturity never fails to amaze me.”

Yuuji looked up from his phone and offered a warm grin.  

“Let’s hurry guys. Nanamin’s signal hasn’t moved for a while now, so he must be staking out already.”

Nobara sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this show on the road. But, hey! Why do you always get to go with Nanami-sensei? He’s so cool and responsible, unlike some teachers.”

They had already passed the Seven-Eleven where Nobara had purchased her chocolate for a quick snack. They were now making their way to the spot downtown where Nanami’s signal on the app blinked in stationary silence. Yuuji’s grin turned positively devilish as he turned to the brown-haired girl who strode quickly beside him.

“I mean, I didn’t choose Nanamin. Gojo-sensei assigned me to him. But yeah, going on missions with him definitely has its perks.”

He left the statement hanging, prompting Nobara to squint suspiciously at him.

“Eh? What kind of perks are we talking about?”

“You know the details of the mission right?”

Megumi frowned. “Of course we know. There’s some idol whose fans are disappearing. And the ones hired to get on stage with him are being targeted. What’s your point, Itadori?”

“Oh, just … I got to go to the concert and vibe for a bit. Nanamin got us VIP pass tickets, so we were up in the special box. And – “

“Now, just one minute,” Nobara’s expression had turned rather frightening. “You attended the actual concert?”

“Hell yeah. And I got lots of souvenirs and merch. Nanamin gave me an allowance, like always. I mean, it’s not like we were just having fun. I had to monitor Ryo-ri and talk to people. You know, network, just in case. For anything suspicious. Oh, and we went to Forty-two West – “

“The grill place?” Megumi interrupted, his own face morphing into something murderous. “The famous one that got all those five-star reviews?”

“Yeah! The same. Nanamin said we had to go because it gave us a good view of the stage set-up. But I’m not complaining. That trio of chocolate dessert was –“

Yuuji realised he had gone a step too far when his collar was roughly grabbed from both sides by his irate classmates. Nobara was fuming.

“You’re winin’ and dinin’ with Nanami-sensei while we’re trudging around the shittiest areas of Tokyo eating instant ramen that Gojo-sensei makes us buy ourselves?

“Even my shikigami get treated better.”

“Oi, oi, it’s not my fault Nanamin prefers the finer things – “

“Well then, I’m gonna put in a request for next time. I’ll make you stay with Gojo while Nanami-sensei takes me to the best nail salon and all those cute boutiques. And feeds me, too.”

“Now you’re making yourself sound like one of my shikigami.”

“Guys.”

The flat urgency in Yuuji’s tone brought them out of their small spat. They had arrived near the narrow alleyway where Nanami had encountered the cursed spirit earlier. Megumi and Nobara were instantly on alert, the traces of cursed energy subtle, but unmistakeable. And even if they hadn’t detected that, the phone with a shattered screen on the pavement was enough to give them pause. Yuuji gingerly picked it up, examining it from all angles. This definitely wasn’t Nanami’s phone. The small stickers looked familiar, though, and his eyes widened.

“This is that girl’s phone. The performer who went on stage with Ryo-ri!”

Megumi gritted his teeth. “So they were both attacked?”

“Looks like it.”

Nobara began to do a small circuit of the area, peering into the alley with close attention.

“Hey. Check this out.”

The two boys came to crouch beside her.

“What’s that?”

“This damage has traces of cursed energy, but I think it’s Nanami’s. Look at the marks here.”

Yuuji drew in a quick breath.

“The way those bottles and boxes are cut … “

“Yeah. They’re divided in a seven-three ratio. He’s letting us know he was still alive and maybe mobile when the curse took him.”

Megumi’s brow darkened.

“If this cursed spirit was powerful enough to capture Nanami, then shouldn’t we call for back-up?”

Yuuji stood abruptly.

“There’s no time. If we wait for back-up to arrive … I have no idea what could happen in the meantime. We’ve got to go in and do what we can. Isn’t that what sorcerers' have to do, even when they’re lacking in numbers and experience?”

Nobara nodded firmly. “For once, I agree with Itadori.”

Megumi sighed and straightened. “You’re right. But I think you’ve both missed something important.”

“Eh?”

“Itadori, how have you been tracking Nanami all this time?”

“What? By the app, obviously.”

“And you think a spirit or curse user, strong and smart enough to take them both, would just let you track Nanami’s phone?”

“Oh … “

Nobara hissed out a frustrated breath. “It wants to lure us in, huh?”

“If it knew Itadori was with Nanami, then that’s possible. I’m gonna send a message to Gojo just in case, and then we head in.”

This is so exciting! Now that the bitch is out of the way, I can focus on what’s important. That kid is on his way because of hot stuff’s phone tracker, but wait, wait … I didn’t expect two more to be with him. Hmmm. That’s fine. It makes no difference. Once they enter my domain, they’ll have no choice but to follow the rules. And maybe this handsome knight in shining armour will be more … receptive to my requests when they are present. Hahahahaha. How sweet it will be!

How sweet, yes, yes. Even sweeter? I get to finally see his eye colour when he wakes up! He was wearing those shades the whole time, but now … whoops! I’ve stolen them.

Hmm. Hmm. Oh, his hair! It’s so soft! I can’t … oh, this little undercut is so lovely. So cute. A jujutsu sorcerer, huh? Scarrrry. Hehe. But that wouldn’t make me change my mind at all. Oh no. It’s worth it. This power will be just what I need. He’ll be just what I need, forever and ever.

A powerful sorcerer like this … wait. Wait. Imagine what he’s built like? Oh, oh, he just gets even better. Imagine the definition he has under all that – he’s waking up! He’s opening his eyes! They’re … oh.

Oh.

Beautiful. Oh, wow. They’re upturned, just a little at the ends and, and, they’re hazel? Qwjecknblaargh …. Focus! He’s awake! I must not pass out from his magnetic stare. Breathe.

When Nanami came to, it was not in a setting he had expected. He was lying next to a lake, on a thick picnic blanket, a picturesque sunset adorning the horizon. He was instantly on high alert, reaching for his sword which, predictably, wasn’t there.

“Oh, come now. You won’t be needing that. I’m not going to harm you.”

That breathy, girlish voice sounded somewhere behind him and he spun around, bending his knees, muscles taut and ready to react. The cursed spirit had finally taken on a more tangible form. A woman’s form, quite short and delicately built, chestnut hair falling in long cascades on either side of its face. It wore a pastel pink shift dress and its feet were bare. The most telling features were the eyes. There were no eyes. Just a shadowed region, beneath straight brown bangs.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point, huh? All right then. I want you.”

Nanami, sensing no immediate violent intent, straightened, but kept his senses alert.

“If you mean my life, please don’t assume that it’ll come easily.”

The spirit giggled.

“You’re so silly! No, no. No, no, no, no. Not at all. This is my domain, as you can see.”

“I gathered that much. Where’s the woman from earlier? What have you done with her?”

There was a distinct pout on the spirit’s face. It sighed petulantly.

“I thought you might ask that. Here.”

It waved a hand and a small window appeared in mid-air. It expanded until the ‘room’ beyond became visible. The stage performer, still unconscious, reclined in a large chair in a dingy space with dust covers over the furniture and the blinds drawn.

“Go on. If you reach through, you can touch her. That way you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

Stepping forward carefully, keeping the spirit in the periphery of his vision, Nanami placed his hand through the shimmering window. His fingers came into contact with the inert warmth of the girl’s wrist. There was a steady pulse there. He withdrew his hand and turned to the spirit.

“All right. I’ve confirmed that the civilian is safe. You can tell me right now what you plan to do.”

The spirit smiled coyly and brought something out of its ‘pocket’. It stroked a finger over the sleek, dark cover of Nanami’s phone.

“Ah, but it’s no fun if I don’t have help with my plans. So, I’ve managed to get a hold of this. Your dear little student and his friends are on their way to search for you. I’ve guided them helpfully into my domain. I think things will be more entertaining when they get here.”

Nanami gritted his teeth, but paused, choosing his words carefully. This spirit seemed to be fond of conversation. Maybe even willing to be distracted by it.

“The students have nothing to do with this. You said you wanted me. Well, here I am, and I’m certainly not going anywhere. I’m aware that domains like this one have rules. Why don’t you leave them out of it and enlighten me.”

The spirit gave another delighted laugh.

“Oh, you’re just … wonderful. As I thought. No, I won’t let them go. But I will tell you the rules. Such fun rules too! Maybe you’ll even learn to like them. I need you to play a game with me. Nothing violent, of course, or very physical. Well, maybe a little physical.” There was that spine-chilling giggle again. “Your students are even allowed to participate and help you along! Precious little helpers, just for you. The game is all about choices. I’m going to present you with scenarios, just some harmless make-belief, you understand? You have to play the role I choose for you, and then make the correct choices. Choosing options will eventually get you to the next scenario. And every correct choice gives me a massive energy boost. That is the nature of the game in my domain. But beware! Making the incorrect choices, or attempting violence against me, will alter the next scenario. If you keep making incorrect choices, you’ll end up with a bad ending. And a bad ending means …”

The spirit snapped its fingers and the window to the dark room beyond grew wider. Nanami clenched his fists. The girl from earlier was not the only occupant. At least five other dark shapes lay in various poses on the uncovered items of furniture around the room. The other abductees.

“They’re also under my control, you see. And for every bad ending you get, one of them goes poof! But don’t worry, I’m kind. I won’t harm your students in that way.”

Nanami turned slowly back to the spirit.

Kind?

As unfathomable as it sounded, there was a tone of sincerity, almost warmth, in the spirit’s voice. As if it really, really believed that killing others, but not Nanami’s students, was an act of kindness. As long as he had been in the business of exorcising spirits, Nanami had developed a certain instinct about how to deal with specific types of curses. A sort of unerring sixth sense about how to deal maximum damage when handling them; getting to the heart of their true nature through their weaknesses. Something, perhaps his own innate technique, was telling him that there was an exploitable crack in the armour here.

“I see. That is kind of you.”

The spirit immediately beamed, for all it didn’t have eyes to express emotion with. The dark window disappeared, and the sunset took on an even rosier hue.

“I knew you’d see things clearly!”

“Tell me more about this game. Most importantly, what happens when the game ends?”

“Don’t worry about the students. They’ll be safe and wake up somewhere. If you don’t get any bad endings, all the civilians will be returned safely too. But they won’t remember anything that happened to them.”

“And me?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. Will that be a problem?”

Nanami considered for a moment before shaking his head firmly.

“No. I don’t care much what happens to me. As long as you give me a binding vow, as we sorcerer’s call it, that you’ll let them go when the time comes.”

The spirit’s smile grew impossibly broad, and it let out a small, dreamy sigh.

“You’re … really something, Mister Sorcerer. Or should I say, Nanamin. I checked your student’s chat with you and that’s such a cute nickname!”

Nanami twitched slightly at the moniker, but did not react otherwise.

“Call me whatever you want. But please make that vow.”

“Of course! Anything for you.”

Stretching one hand out, the spirit waggled its fingers. Cautiously, Nanami held out his hand and they grasped each other by the wrist. The spirit was fully corporeal, at least in its domain, the flesh beneath his fingers firm and human-like. A shudder seemed to pass through the spirit as he made contact. They spoke the words of their contract and, within the confines of this domain, those terms were made binding. Nanami let go and stepped back.

“All right. Now will you give me some information as to the nature of these game scenarios?”  

“You mean you haven’t guessed already?”

“No, I’m quite at a loss as to what they could be.”

The spirit clapped its hands and laughed.

“Why, they’ll be romantic, of course!”

“… Romantic?”

“Yes! A truly tingling tale of true love and fated lovers. The universe may conspire mischievously to keep them apart, but their honest, raw emotions will prevail over all! At least, as long as you get the good ending.”

Nanami was silent for a bit. He seemed to be thinking deeply, but in reality, this information had completely thrown him. If he understood correctly, this spirit wanted him to perform some kind of … romantic roleplay with it? Had he been mistaken? He had been operating under the assumption that this spirit had be born of the envy and resentment felt by the idol’s audience, but what was this all about then? It couldn’t be. But then again, even the most experienced sorcerers had come up, eventually, against spirits that defied their existing knowledge and instincts. Taking a breath, Nanami looked up.

“Romantic scenarios. Understood. I’ll play my part accordingly.”

“Eh?” It was the spirit’s turn to be caught off guard. “You agree just like that? I thought you’d at least resist the idea.”

“I have no reason to. If the lives of civilians are at stake, then I, and my students, will perform whatever role you assign to us to the best of our ability.”

Nanami reached up and, in a controlled motion, smoothed back his hair. He lifted his sweater slightly and tugged on the empty harness for his blade, snapping it back into place before neatly rolling up his sleeves. He faced the spirit and folded his arms.

“I am ready for you.”

Something crimson and wet dripped from the spirit’s nose. It hurriedly mopped it up with the back of its wrist.

“Ah, er, well. Let me prepare a few things and I will … be back soon.”

The window behind it opened and it scurried through. Nanami raised an eyebrow.

Was that blush part of the act?

[mizu-chin]

Yes My Lord "The Hidden Song"

*English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes*

The morning was calm at the Phantomhive mansion. The sun began to rise on the horizon, casting golden rays through the tall windows, creating a spectacle of light and shadow in the elegant corridors. It was early, and the mansion was enveloped in an almost sacred silence. S/n, who had been awake for some time, was in the armory room, cleaning her daggers.

With meticulous movements, she slid the cloth over the blades, making them shine under the soft light. As she worked, she began to sing softly, almost without noticing. Her voice, clear and melodious, filled the room with the lyrics of the song.

"Cae la noche, me está buscando Hay luna llena y las loba' estamo' cazando Caí en el party, humo volando Di un par de paso' y vi que me estabas mirando..."

Sebastian, always attentive, was passing through the corridor near the armory. The sound of S/n's voice caught his attention, making him stop. He silently approached the slightly open door, curious and enchanted. He had never heard S/n sing before, and the softness of her voice combined with the intensity of the lyrics surprised him.

"Oh, te acercaste y me pediste Fuego pa' encenderte un blunt Ni lo pensé Te lo saqué de la boca, lo prendí y te dije que..."

She sang with a passion and rhythm that Sebastian did not expect. The words flowed naturally, and he could feel the emotion in each verse. There was something captivating in the way she moved, even while performing a simple task like cleaning her daggers. He stood there, immobile, almost hypnotized by the scene.

"Detrás del humo no se ve, no, no se ve Acerquémono' un poquito, que te quiero conocer Te lo muevo en HD, un perreo HP Una hora, dos botellas y directo pa'l hotel..."

Sebastian entered the room silently, his steps inaudible. He leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on S/n. She was so immersed in the music that she did not immediately notice his presence. He observed her every movement, from the way she cleaned the daggers to how her lips moved as she sang. There was a natural sensuality and strength in her performance that left him fascinated.

"Dá calor quando chega perto de mim Que vontade de sentar em você Faz aquele jeito do macentin' Mírame, y hágale Por trás da fumaça tu sarra em mim Tomamos três goles de prazer Olha nos olhos, olha nos ojos, ah..."

S/n finally noticed Sebastian's presence when she lifted her gaze and saw him watching her. She abruptly stopped singing, a look of surprise crossing her face.

"Sebastian," she said, putting the dagger aside. "I didn't know you were there."

He smiled softly, stepping out of the shadows. "Forgive me for interrupting, Miss S/n. Your voice is... enchanting. I didn't know you could sing."

She shrugged, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "It's just something I like to do to pass the time. It helps me relax."

"I must say, it was a pleasant surprise," he commented, approaching her. "The lyrics of the song are quite... intense."

S/n laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Yes, it's a song I like. It has an energy that makes me feel alive." Sebastian watched her for a moment, his gaze intense.

"You have many talents, S/n. Every day I discover something new about you." She looked at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of challenge and curiosity. "And you, Sebastian? Do you ever allow yourself to be surprised?"

He smiled enigmatically. "Rarely. But I must admit, you manage to do so more than most." There was a palpable tension between them, something that went beyond words. Sebastian, always controlled and calculating, felt something new and disconcerting.

S/n, for her part, perceived a vulnerability in him that she had never seen before. She stepped closer, her eyes fixed on his. "Perhaps you should allow yourself to be surprised more often. It can be... invigorating."

He tilted his head, the smile still present, but his eyes showing a depth of emotion he rarely revealed. "Perhaps you're right, S/n. Perhaps I should."

In that moment, the invisible barrier that existed between them began to dissolve. It wasn't just attraction or mutual respect, but something deeper. A recognition that, despite their differences, there was something that connected them in a way they were both still learning to understand. As the sun continued to rise in the sky, casting a golden glow over them, S/n and Sebastian stood in silence, a mutual understanding growing between them. It was the beginning of something new, something that promised to change not only the dynamics between them but also the very essence of the Phantomhive mansion.

[brofightiscancelled]

yapping about how i approached translating karamatsu's brand new world. just discussing the localization liberties i took and other things i think are interesting. i just love yapping sorry

part 2/4 because i forgot about tumblr post image limits lol

CHAPTER 5

the dreaded "it can't be helped" translation. this phrase is very common in japanese, but doesn't really have an equivalent in english, so it's often translated very literally like this. it's kind of infamous in jp-en translation circles because it is so clunky and overused and there's almost always a better way to convey the same meaning. i myself usually go for "there's no way around it" or "nothing for it", and as a rare treat, "it be like that". unfortunately none of those really worked here, and i also had trouble understanding what jyushi could even be talking about, so i had to use the very literal translation here. it really couldn't be helped.

oso just says "what, what, what?" here, but it's meant to have kind of the nag of like a smug dad like "now what's going on over HERE?!" energy, so he got this uh. very british (??) localization. sorry alot of my choices are just like "it was vibes" which is why translation is more of an art than a science lol

CHAPTER 6

rare english W (?) here: what dekapan says here is literally like: "it's all the matsuno brothers, of which you are a part of, with the exception of you". but using "excluding" here gets to bring in a fun little double meaning: the original text's intended matsuno brothers excluding you (adjective), or matsuno brothers excluding you (active verb). which i think is kinda fun :-)

karamatsu is literally saying "there's no way it'd only be me who doesn't know anything". i glammed it up a little bit both for understandability, to help subtly convey that his brothers are purposely leaving him out, and, well, he IS in the dark in this panel

a case of what i call Transference. in the first panel, those little dots in oso's dialogue indicate that he's speaking in kinda a staccato (im pretty sure that's what these mean at least lol), like "eye! bags!". i guess i couldve punctuated it with "hor-ri-ble!" but that wouldve taken up so much horizontal room, lol. but the general idea is that he's speaking pretty casually and kinda childishly, so i made the dialogue in the next panel extra casual (didja, etc) to make up for the info lost in the fist one :-)

karamatsu is speaking english here (katakana phonetic alphabet that indicates he's speaking a foreign language) so i just left it and put it in italics to convey that he's being kinda weird . i do this in a bunch of other places too but im pointing it out here because "made in I" is particularly karamatsu-esque

these just look like illegible scribbles but i realiezed theyre like very messy はあ (gasping sfx), so i did the same thing in my typesetting ("gasp"). i wonder if ppl even noticed. heh

japanese governments have family registries which list all the children by order of birth, "first son, first daughter, second son, third son", etc. that's the origin of "shitty eldest", of course. english has no such equivalent so things like "second son" can feel weird to us at first (though im sure everyone reading this is very used to it by now lol).

i do think terms like "firstborn" and "secondborn" are a little more colloquially used in english, though.... luckily for me, karamatsu's dialogue here translates literally to "i am the second son who was born into the matsuno family", so i get to knock out two birds with one stone in the "second-born" phrasing here :-)

little localization example here. ichimatsu's dialogue translates literally to "you were still awake?". this doesn't sound that unnatural, but if a native english speaker were in this situation, that's probably not the sentence that would come out of their mouth. often when i localize that's the train of thought i use (i ride???): "what would I (a native english speaker) say in this same equivalent situation?"

(stroking my chin) yeah i think "is something wrong with me" would've been a better localization here. would've tied into the previous chapters too...... but i dont know if it'll work for ichi's dialogue in the next chapter. hmm. i'll chew on if i think it's worth updating

CHAPTER 7

like i guess then this would be "is something wrong with you? yes. something's wrong with you". is that the same vibe? hmm. leave a comment below. like and subscribe also

karamatsu's dialogue here is literally like: "is this really good?", which can either mean "is this okay (to do)?" or "is this better?". this is one of those things where i just had to pick an interpretation, so i just kinda guessed the latter based on the surrounding context. nyamu-san did very graciously offer to answer any questions i had while translating but im shy so i didnt ask them.

an example of pretty direct meaning-meddling for the sake of english understandability. dekapan actually says "our selfishness ends here", referring to himself and dayon, made clear by his strange self-pronoun. but since english doesnt have the self-pronoun clearing it up, it felt confusing for him to say "we" here since he was just talking about "god" and "them" right before this so it's like, "who is we??". so i translated this as "my" selfishness to make it clear he means himself, and then i brought in dayon on the "we" of the second line.

i hit image limit again. brofightiscancelled translation yapping will return in 2024

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

[whump-town]

Drunk & Nosy

I don't like this very much and it's disgustingly sweet when I want to wreak havoc but this is what I have instead...

word count: 4k

Hotch/Morgan and Hotch and Emily are drunk, and Morgan's walking them home from the bar. Takes place right after Emily comes back from being dead

--------

Derek didn’t want to be mad at them. Nothing about being mad at them was fun, he didn’t feel better holding this resentment so close to his chest, but there was no place else for a broken heart to be. Just wedged, propped up, beaten and sullen against his ribs. Emily had died. Derek had held her hand as she struggled to breathe, and he’d watched her heartbeat on the monitors in the back of the ambulance turn a flat green. His best friend had died right in front of him and then Hotch left. He hadn’t said a damn thing to a single one of them, left on a plane at midnight somewhere he wouldn’t know until he landed. And when they returned, two ghosts had come back. Two living members of the dead, sullen and ashy faced ghosts haunting themselves. 

He didn’t know how something like this could happen. Ian Doyle hadn’t existed, just a year ago things were healing. 

Derek thinks they don’t trust him and the confusion he holds for these two strangers in the bodies of his closest friends is only tripled when Emily calls him late Friday night from Hotch’s phone. He’s already in bed, craving the energy for a night out but unable to keep his eyes open. Derek groans already annoyed when he sees that it’s Hotch, but it’s Emily, babbling quickly, drunkenly, about a bar. He can hardly make out what he’s hearing over the sound of laughter, but he pieces it together – she’s trying to bargain her way into a ride home. 

Derek listens to her quick, slurred speech and for a moment, he forgets everything. It’s pleasantly familiar, Emily calling for a ride home. 

Her instructions are to a pop-up bar, a small back corner of a back street where businesses come and go. The nightlife is rampant, suits and ties shed for a night away. It carries with them, stress pinched into crow’s feet and nicotine-stained fingers that’ll poke out their car windows tomorrow morning as they sit in rush-hour traffic. Trailing wispy smoke and rubbing sore heads, sitting in stand-still traffic.

Derek sees Hotch first, stretched in the circular booth with his left leg on one-half of the booth. He’s in a sweater Derek’s seen a thousand times – discarded on his bedroom floor, in his laundry hamper, in Hotch’s go-bag – and it makes his aching heart kick up a fuss. The soft material worn to Hotch’s frame; no doubt, the frayed sleeves are pinched over Hotch’s cold hands. 

Emily’s propped up against his shoulder, Hotch slumped down in the booth to her equal height. She’s also in a sweater, hair pulled back out of her face, and no make-up in sight. 

Derek hadn’t known what he was coming here to do but he‘d forgotten Aaron would be here, that if Emily was calling from his phone then she was with him. He’d assumed he’d be coming to pick her up from somewhere more lively, with people swarming and music playing so loudly he could feel the beat in his chest. Somehow Derek had forgotten exactly what they meant to one another. 

He’s not sure how to interrupt this leisure, their complete comfort. “You guys ready?” 

They both glare at him for a moment, narrowing their eyes as they try to focus on his face. Emily breaks first, a big smile on her face as she sits up and starts scooting out of the booth towards him. “Derek!” She throws her arms up and around his neck, leaning into him through the hug. “I forgot you were coming!”

Derek is hesitant to release her but she doesn’t go very far. Emily leans into his side, her arm still around him. Derek nods at Hotch as he climbs out of the booth himself, slower, and comes to stand, leaning into the booth. Derek looks away, smiling at Emily, “you have fun?” 

Emily sighs, “oh yeah.” She points a finger at Hotch and he looks away, color already starting to rise to his face and neck. “That one…” Emily squints her eyes, shaking her finger a little, “he knows…” 

Hotch shakes his head and Derek laughs, reveling in the sudden look of panic on Hotch’s face. But Derek is laughing at Emily, who is still making a face at Hotch. “Come on princess,” he says, squeezing her shoulder, “let’s get you home.” 

Emily steps away suddenly for this part. She searches around the table, “Hotch, do you have your wallet and keys?” 

Hotch, who hadn’t been prepared to suddenly participate in the conversation, struggles to stand upright, shifting his weight unevenly on his legs for a moment. “Sorry?" he asks, nervously. Looking between Derek and Emily trying to piece together what he’s missed.

“Keys, sweetheart,” Emily says, softly, giving him a small sympathetic smile. “Your wallet? Do you have everything?”

The addition of sweetheart feels both endearing and mocking. Hotch feels his face get hot, “I have everything.” 

“Okay.” 

Hotch leads them out of the bar, walking alone, not sure how to insert himself into the natural duo Derek and Emily make. So instead he narrows his focus on walking. Watching and feeling his feet land on the ground, the weight and flexion of muscles. Trying to ground himself through the cloudy drunken haze. He’s working with new hardware, physical and mental. There wasn’t much out in Pakistan except soldiers and sand. Nightmares were often and silent, everyone would cut some slack for the occasional but the persistent warranted a talking to. The shift from home to there had been difficult, there was lot on Hotch's mind and his nightmares didn’t let him forget it.

Behind Hotch, Emily and Derek speak softly to each other. He can hear them as they walk closely behind, but Hotch keeps his attention on walking. 

Emily leans into Derek as they walk, his arm around her shoulders and hers around his back. She keeps an eye on Hotch, old reflexes die hard “I can’t believe that you both managed to hide this,” Emily says, tugging Derek. “You know I love breaking rules and this has lawsuit written all over it.” 

Derek smiles, “what’re you talking about?”

“I overestimated you; I thought you were smart enough to know better than to go after anybody we with work with– though I had some doubts but Garcia swore on her Wish Bear there was nothing so… .”

“What– Wish Bear?”

“It’s a Carebear. You don’t know Carebears?” 

Derek shrugs.

“That’s a crying shame,” Emily tsks, “everyone should know Carebaears. They’re a National Treasure.” 

“I don’t know them.”

Emily shakes her head, “that’s a shame, really a shame.” She pauses only a moment with a frown hiccups and rubs her chest, “he’s a very honest drunk, Derek. You ought to know that. Told me everything.” 

“Who is?”

“Hotch,” Emily says, pointing at him. “Terribly honest. Really did tell me everything.”

“Everything?” Derek asks, he feels completely lost. “About what?”

Emily grins, this knowing Cheshire stretch of her mouth that reflects the mischief gleaming in her glazy eyes. She reaches up and taps his nose, “fucking.”

“Huh?” Derek shakes his head. “Woman, what are you talking about?”

Emily sways as she sings, “Aaron and Derek sitting in a tree. F- U-C- K- I–”

“Alright,” Derek gets it pretty quickly, and nervously he pulls Emily closer to him. “Shh, shh.” 

“Why are you shushing me? He knows,” Emily points at Hotch, “he was there. And he’s the one that told me anyway.” Emily rolls her eyes, “he’s such a blabber mouth when he’s drunk.” 

Derek huffs.

“So don’t tell him any of your secrets,” Emily says, in her wisest voice. “Because I’ll just get him drunk and get him to tell me them.” 

“Okay,” Derek agrees, “I won’t.” Derek’s not sure that he has any secrets that they don’t know anyway. He’d gotten in the habit of confiding in them both. Unlike the both of them, Derek hadn’t lied to them. He trusted them both, not just with his life but with the details. Derek doesn’t want to be mad about it but he also can’t stop thinking about it. Why hadn’t Hotch trusted him? Because Derek knew he’d trust Hotch with information like that, so what was different?

Emily hiccups and pats her chest, “you love ‘im then?”

“What?” 

Rolling her eyes, Emily repeats slowly, “do you love him?”

Derek looks ahead, to Hotch. It felt like the answer wasn’t very clear. Some small part of Derek still felt like there would be an obvious sign, a banner maybe, or a burst of confetti that would mark the right decision. There had been no obvious signs, Derek didn’t think so at least. There were other things. Just standing at the table, waiting for Emily and Hotch to collect their things, Derek felt pulled to Hotch still. Seeing Hotch smile, seeing him squirm and flush under Emily’s attention had ignited some of those feelings raw once again. 

“If it’s taking you that damn long to answer,” Emily hiccups, “then the answer is probably yes, dummy.”

Derek huffs, “and what do you know about it?” He looks over at her, “since you seem to think you know everything.”

Emily smirks, “I know he loves you too.”

Derek hadn’t considered that. To him, everything that happened had seemed like a pretty clear severance. And now Emily is saying it wasn’t and Derek doesn’t know what any of it means anymore. 

Emily’s walking starts to take a bit of a turn and with a stumble, Emily curses, “mierda.” Derek doesn’t understand a bit of the Spanish that leaves her mouth after that. She fires the Spanish off too easily, too quickly. Having done this enough, Derek knew exactly what Spanich brain meant – puking. 

Intuition and experience have taught Derek all he needs to know about what comes next. “Alright, princess,” Derek starts guiding her toward the closest bench and garbage bin. 

She clicks her tongue at him, “ay, no, no es necesario.” She grumbles but sits down on the bench, right where Derek puts her. 

“Stay here for a second, I’m going to get Hotch before he walks off without us.”

“Necestitas ir a dile que lo amas, estupido.”

Derek shakes his head, “just stay here.”

Hotch hasn’t gotten that far but his advantage is enough to make Derek need to jog to catch up to him. “Aaron, hey!” Derek grabs his arm and Hotch turns. “Hold up, man. Emily’s in spanish mode, I left her on a bench, but I think she’s gonna hurl.”

Now that he’s standing close, the street lights catching that honey brown color that Derek had been away from for so long that being close now made his knees weak. Close enough now to see the glassy sheen over Hotch’s eyes too, smell the alcohol on his breath. 

Hotch looks at Derek and then away, to the ground. “Good call.” He glances up again, eyes moving along Derek’s face and he turns away, but he’s held there by the arm Derek catches. Easily, Hotch could turn away but he wants to be pulled closer, for Derek to hold him tighter until he’s certain he’ll leave bruises. But the touch is hesitant and light.

“Wait,” Derek says, and he doesn’t know why he has to say this now. On a dark street. In the middle of the night. “We missed– I missed you. And–” Hotch’s attention turns enraptured, all of him focused on Derek. It burns through Derek. The way Hotch’s eyes flicker the small distance over Derek’s face, to his lips, and back to his eyes. Like a shot of whiskey, heating up his chest and stomach. A comfortable buzz. Derek’s heart pounds in his chest, his breathing getting harder. “I missed you,” Derek stammers again, and he reaches, unabashed, for Hotch’s hand. “And I want us–”

Hotch’s mouth is warm. His lips right against Derek’s and gone so quickly, he leaves their heads spinning. All Derek can do is stare at him. His mouth open, lips tingling. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Hotch finally says. His head is buzzing with alcohol, cloudy judgment had lead him to believe this was his chance. And now he’s standing in the silence, having acted on a hasty, drunk thought. Realizing his mistake. Realizing he was wrong. “I’m so sorry, Derek. I… I’m sorr–”

Wine and Aaron, who had been away for so long that Derek had forgotten. He’d grown unfamiliar with the leisurely comfort of this. Of Aaron. Derek wishes he could just have him. Take him to bed and keep him there, away the things that make him cry, away from pain. Safe and here, always. 

Derek doesn’t hear Emily clear her throat but he feels Hotch jump and pull away from him. He can see the blush creeping up from around Hotch’s dark collar, the fingertips hovering over his lips. 

“Puked in a trashcan,” Emily says, rocking back on her toes. “S’all good now.” She smirks, “you guys talk?”

Derek smirks, “something like that.” He wraps his arm back around Emily and shoots a smirk at Hotch just to get another glance of his flushed, shocked face. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

Emily had been taking Hotch out for years. Sometimes he just needed a friend, someone other than Jessica to talk to. Emily had gotten Jessica’s number right after Foyet. They had instantly reciprocated a friendship. Similar enough to one another and with the same plan in mind, dragging Hotch out of this no matter how he kicked and fought. It was good having someone else on their team, someone that understood Hotch the same way they thought they did. And while Emily was a little hesitant when Jessica asked her to be Hotch’s friend, to take that label when Emily herself wasn’t very sure Hotch considered them friends, Jessica was right. 

And so Emily is his friend. And Jessica is the back-stabbing, secret-spilling mastermind. Sending them out on nights like this when they both think they other is mad at them. Tonight, was one of those nights. And those nights always end the same – at Emily’s. After five years of this, they have long since been banned from trying to sneak back into Hotch’s apartment. They had tried twice to sneak back into the house but drunk and navigating in dark, both times they had woken up not only Jess but Jack. There was no allowance for a third strike. 

“You wanna stay with us?” Emily asks. She hands Derek her keychain and leans back against Hotch, hiding from the wind picking up around them. 

The first key he tries fails, Derek tries another key and looks up as it slides in and turns the lock. “Why? You got something planned?”

Emily makes a disgusted face and shivers, “ew. With you? That’s disgusting.” She slips in the door past him and starts stripping down. Kicking her shoes off in a pile and tossing her coat on the table. “Just for that,” she says, rubbing her eyes and blindly walking towards her room, “you gotta sleep on the couch.”

Derek smirks back at Hotch, a look that doesn’t go unnoticed. Hotch smiles a little, looking down as he toes his shoes off beside Emily’s. He yawns and stumbles down the hall following Emily, “I don’t have to sleep on the couch.” 

“You’re gonna leave me out here alone?” Derek asks, feigning hurt. 

“Mmm,” Hotch hums and shrugs, “yes.” He’s drunk. Not stupidly so but enough to lack forethought, to let go of the reigns let somebody else handle it. Hotch doesn’t realize his mistake until he’s decided to leave his sweater on so he’s warm while he sleeps. Leaving him standing in his clothes while Emily and Derek strip down to something they can sleep in. 

He can’t do that. 

“You sleepin’ in your jeans?” Derek looks up from folding his pants, over to Hotch standing stiffly by the bed, frozen. “You go commando?” Derek asks, hands on his hips, on the waistband of his boxers as he teases. 

“No.” 

Bed ready to be slept in, Emily climbs in, pulling the blankets up around her and laying down. “You can get the light on the way out, Derek.” 

Derek looks at Hotch, feigning hurt. “Princess,” Derek says, “you’re really gonna do me like that? Kick me out to the cold couch?”

Emily hums back, eyes already closed, “oh yeah. There’s only room for two of us and if I have to pick between the two of you…” She doesn't hear anyone move so she adds, “lights please.”

Derek heaves a sigh and starts to go, sensing tension, Emily peaks an eye open to watch Derek softly bid Hotch goodnight. At the door he stops again, “take me to dinner.” Emily almost sits up to see the look Hotch’s face. Derek continues, “I meant what I said earlier.” The lights cut off and he shuts the door. 

It takes Hotch a moment to begin moving and Emily sits up, blinking as he eyes adjust to the low light. “Are you gonna take him to dinner?” Emily asks, scooting closer. 

Hotch sighs, and glancing at her, Emily following his eyes down as he hesitates to completely take his jeans off.

Emily gently reaches over and touches his arm. He’d needed a lot of liquid courage to get him to even tell her anything about what happened at all. Emily had spent a lot of time wondering what they had been up to while she was away, they were all she could think about. Strangers started looking exactly like them. Too many tall slender man with unruly light brown hair but no Reid. No stoic suit with dark hair was Hotch. No JJ. All she could was sit and hope that they were together. And so it breaks her to hear worse. 

“Hey,” Emily says, rolling her eyes and scoffing as she fights back tears, reaching up and brushing them away. “It’s just us, it’s fine. It’s nothing.” Emily waves her hand a little, “I can hardly see, it’s way too dark.” 

Hotch nods solemnly, eyes still on his jeans. Emily understands, somehow she always does. She’ll be angry but she’ll understand. Right now she’s too drunk to be angry, just softened, and concerned instead. Terribly nosy as well. And this won’t freak her out. She’s seen him crazy – panicking to the point he’s in the bathroom hurling into the toilet. She’s helped him change the bandages on his chest. And now they’ve traveled to the very edge together. She had nearly died for him and he had nearly died to keep her alive. 

Now, though, nothing really happens. 

Hotch had told her what had happened, he had told her and yet it is hard for her to believe, even as she sees it. “Does it hurt?” Emily asks as Hotch leans over trying to fish his leg out of his pants.

Hotch sits up and looks down. It had been months now and Hotch still wasn’t used to looking at what remained of his left leg and mostly because he still felt like it was there. His brain hadn’t fully comprehended it was no longer there. It takes Hotch a moment to really hear Emily, to get around to answering a question he doesn’t really know the answer to. “Not really,” Hotch shrugs, because that’s mostly the truth. It doesn’t hurt so much as it isn’t normal. It’s not what he’s used to, so it’s a pain but it’s not painful. 

Emily moves, allowing Hotch to lay back in the bed. “You know,” she says, glancing at him, “if you’d bother to ask, I could have told you that many fake I.D.s would cost an arm and a leg.”

Hotch smirks, huffing as he pulls the blankets up and lays down beside Emily. “It was all those passports,” Hotch huffs.

Emily laughs, "that government stamp comes with an expensive fee.”

“You’re telling me.”

Emily says nothing for a short moment but her mind is still on her first question. Hotch had confessed it all to her tonight. From what he had done in the beginning, trading guaranteed protection for her and in exchange going to Pakistan, to the explosion he couldn’t even remember. One minute he was out in the cool night air looking at the moon and the next he was waking up on a cot, falling onto the ground, and looking at the round, gauze-covered end of his thigh. That he’d spent months in a wheelchair, pushing himself around in the sand, because he still had a job to do. A contract to complete. And if Hotch could do all that, if he could give all that, such a noble idiot, he could still get the guy. 

“Are you gonna take him out for dinner?”

Hotch huffs, “you’re so nosy.” He stares up at the ceiling and sighs, “yeah... I–I kissed him.” The darkness feels like the same animosity of the bar, a safe enough hole to speak the truth in. “He kissed me back.”

“Really?” Emily turns over to look at him, and he glances over at her, smiling a little and nodding. 

“Yeah but… It’s complicated…”

Emily snorts and rolls her eyes, “because you got blown up? Be serious Hotch, he was there in New York. He’s seen you get into trouble, okay, and he’s not gonna care about that.” 

Hotch shrugs, looking away. “I don’t know.”

Emily shakes her head at him, stupid, stupid idiot man. “Why would he be mad?” Emily asks, she moves her right leg over to him, swishing her legs back in forth in the bed, “who would be mad about extra legroom?”

Hotch smiles, even though he’s trying hard not to. “Okay,” he relents. “I said I’d take him to dinner, I don’t even know if that’s what he wants.”

“Oh he definitely does,” Emily says, waving the notion off. “He was like a love sick puppy, you two were unbearable.”

Hotch huffs, he’s not sure that’s true. It was good, better than good, but love sick?

“It’s gonna work out,” Emily says and Hotch looks over at her but seeing nothing but darkness. He nods anyway, not certain but willing to be hopeful. Maybe but what was done, was done. Everyone is home, they survived, and they have another chance to keep going. 

He’d have dinner with Derek and they would have to talk about what happened but maybe things would work out. 

Maybe Derek will understand. 

Maybe. 

[valkyrie1366669]

"These insects struck me down beneath the shadowlands. They are worthy opponents. their skulls will make fine trophies."

The blood druidess looks at the cambion she convinced to kill everything and even himself. "Fight with me. Be on the winning side, or join his corpse Yugir. Die free- or die indebted to this wretched, worthless, cunt." Her left hand was twitching for a kill. The urge is hungry for more, and it needs to be fed.

Yugir was about to decline, but there was a certain glow to her green eyes. they were more predatory and focused. She had a kill near her grasp, and there was a fire in her eyes that made the Hells seem cold. "To stand against a devil in his home. Hmm, that takes courage. I'm with you." He points at her.

"How disappointing. If you have any words, make it quick. It will only take a moment to finish you." Raphael states smugly. Mostly amused by whatever typical heroic type of jargon she was most likely going to say.

"Co-dhiùbh, bidh mi beò nas fhaide na thu anns an leabaidh." ("At least, I'll live longer than you do in bed.") She smirks while starting to feel a little drowsy. 'Earthmother, Rot Mother, guide me for what I'm about to do. Give me the strength to come back. I'm not done yet... Above all, I will not harm them.' She thinks to herself.

"YOU INSUFFERABLE CREATURE!" Raphael roars as he brings forth the fury hells. So many cambions were summoned and it everyone edge. The column pillars were encased in a necrotic energy.

"Focus on the columns. That aura is... something else." She cuts her palm. "Remind me after this, drinks are on me. And, luvs, have that Globe of Invulnerability scroll ready when I wake up..... I am not resurrecting anyone today."

"This is still very ri..." Halsin starts before everyone in their party is distracted by Raphael's singing. "I'm not hearing things, right?"

"What the feck?"

"Is he-" Karlach looked just as bewildered as the rest of them.

Minsc laughs while having his bow ready. “Hear that Boo! We have battle music.”

The vampire nods slowly. Seemed like something one would only imagine while drunk. A devil singing a whole serenade as they are about to kill their opposition. Or a poorly written opera. "He's a little off tune too."

Then Astarion reaches for some bomb arrows and aims one at the far right column. Hitting a few cambion that were near it. Didn't kill them as fire and cambions, but the force did some damage. Karlach sighs mostly to see how this plan would work, but she gets swinging after using a Soul Coin to give her a tuneup. It took a few hits and killed some cambions and imps, but they got one column down. Three more to go to weaken the devil before they could give the devil their all. Minsc and Boo proving once more to be a formidable duo. Minsc uses Hail of Thorns and Boo going for the eyes of the imps. Even biting an eye out of one of the devils.

Then Minsc goes for more melee attacks. “HA! These imps are like little pests with fragile wings!” He rips some imp wings off like nothing before tossing the corpse to some devils.

Halsin throws some water for some spread to his & Gwynn's elemental attacks before casting Call Lightning. Mostly weakening some cambion- but did manage to take out quite a few of the imps, before summoning water and air elementals for aid. Even a Dryad for good measure who summons Spike Growth around. Gwynnistri summons an ice storm near Raphael. All the ground was all iced over and it was amusing to watch cambions slip on it. Then throws the Nyrulna at a cambion- impaling them in the chest and it comes back to her hand.

"Gods I love this thing so much." Gwynnistri compliments her weapon as she is impressed.

"Lovely isn't it? The rush of it all. The sweet, intoxicating taste of devils' crimson on your tongue- drying on your lips." A female voice purrs in her mind.

"How beautiful you made your corpses in the past. Javelins, spears, and other polearms were your favorite. You liked implanting bodies in the ground or staking corpses outside where you'd stay. Delicious." A male one praises.

"Get out of my head." She says to herself while gritting her teeth. Not yet. Have to hold it off just a little more. That's it. Just hoping the aftermath wouldn't be too terrible. Won't hurt anyone she cares for.

"Darling, you're talking to yourself again." The rouge pulls the druidess close before a cambion comes by. Stabbing it with a dagger before it could get a hit on her. "It's awfully distracting for both of us. You're getting sloppy." Astarion's red eyes showed a little concern under the cowl.

"Sorry." She uses some more of Isobel's blood to summon a blood whip. Using it to line up cambions for her lovers as Karlach focuses on the necrotic pillars. It helped get multiple targets at once for the bear, as well as easy targets for Astarion when he ran out of explosive arrows. That invisible cape seemed to suit him far better than it ever did her.

"Good girl." Astarion grins while invisible and sneaks attacking a few fiends.

It was going pretty well with Yugir's and Hope's help as well. The cleric and Blood War commander work together in hopes of freeing themselves from the Devil's chains. Yugir even killed Hope's sister as his crossbow bolt went through a cambion's skull and into her heart cleanly. After every shot, he turns invisible while working his way through cambions. The commander was even throwing some bombs as the other three party members worked on getting the other pillars down. Managed to get three down, now the last one. Hope was cleaning the field with her banishment spells and patching everything on their side with healing spells.

As Karlach worked her destructive magic of smashing and burning everything close to her. Gwynn casts Lightning Bolt directly at Raphael and some of the surviving cambion left. "You are just prolonging the inevitable." Raphael seethes before making an attack to Gwynnistri. Casting Igniting Spark at her, she uses Veil Wind to draw back the devil's fire. "Enough!" He suddenly ascended, and his pettiness and rage were focused on the one who dared to set foot here. Who dared to taunt him? Insolent wretch! His arm smacks Gwynnistri hard enough that it sends to her the other side of the room.

There was a brief moment of wanting to call out, but something was different. The pillars no longer stood, but there was a sense of an unholy aura around them. One that Astarion only felt once before. "Don't." Astarion grabs Halsin's wrist to tug him back after he dismisses his wildshape. "Do not go near her unless you want to be one killed, Druid. She'd never forgive herself if she harmed you like this." Astarion warns Halsin who seemed he was about to go over to her. Mostly out of reaction, his lover was hurt and that's always what he did first. It was almost out of instinct and sometimes could be annoying.

With a sigh, he gave the large wood elf some earplugs. "Put them in. She screamed like bloody murder last time, and gods it numbs you. Regardless, help flank the bastard while he's down if you can."

Halsin's mouth gaped open to say something but could feel the tightened grip from the vampire. "...She will be alright?" He asks softly, and Astarion nods slowly while putting one ear plug in.

"Just be prepared for after. Restraining our little Bhaal babe after this will be interesting. Personally, I would've rather restrained her in bed at some point before this. I'm sure she'd make a lovely rope bunny. She's a bit of a brat as you know." Then the vampire casts the shield scroll while smirking.

Halsin smirks at the thought after putting the earplugs in. It was a nice picture, but mostly at Astarion's humor during fights. 'We could possibly die here, and he's making dirty jokes. His remarks never fail to amuse me.' "Another day then. Perhaps you'd like me to join you; or even to do that to me someday, starlight."

" If you're lucky. " Astarion purred slightly before the others got in the globe.

Halsin uses his thorn whip to bring Hope and Karlach back. Minsc and Boo were close enough for the barrier. "Put them on, Karlach." He hands his companion earplugs and tears some fabric for Hope. Unsure where Yugir is, but not like he could fit in the barrier anyway.

"What the Hells, Halsin? I was going to help Gwynni up as I was closer to her. Hope could have healed her too. The air feels even worse now." Karlach and everyone else with earplugs jumped and then had when hearing an unholy screech. It made everyone crouch and cover their ears as it felt like their ears could bleed from it. Then everyone saw the whole transformation happen and it was disturbing. "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" Karlach's eyes were wide as she wondered if her friend was still in control.

"Silvanus protect her.." Halsin's mouth was agape at what he saw.

It was so unnatural and every part of him felt uneased. Not over the gruesome sight and aura of it. Partial shape to that of a creature known made purely for murder. But it looked painful beyond measure. Bones snapping to adjust to her elbows lengthed and sharpened like scimitars as they cut through her Drow armor. Her nails were literal claws that no doubt could maul someone. Had small bumps on the sides of her head where horns tried to grow, but wouldn't. Her eyes looked a little similar to some tiefling's with the black sclera, but her pupils were still that vibrant dark green. Like the glow on an owlbear or panther's eyes when the light hit and they looked at Raphael as their prey. Though they couldn't see it, the scars on her arms and some on her back were opened up.

"It is torture. You feel helpless as it happens, your body trying to fight it- but there is no point. The Urge eventually takes over when one least expects it. It takes a lot more of my time to contain it. But it's no different than a Druid's emotions getting the best of them in wildshape. Except it is unpredictable. Whoever is around is always harmed by it. The more one resists though, the more pain you are in. That's why it's so tempting.... I mostly just want relief, silence to the voices for once- but every day I choose to suffer." Halsin recounts how Gwynnistri explained it one dawn after hunting with her and Astarion.

[wellthebardsdead]

Riiju-Lei: *blinks awake looking around to see he’s back in Tel Mithryn* I- what?… what happened I-ohmnnn- *shifts uncomfortably as Kaidan suddenly wipes a wet cloth across his face cleaning him of the blood and ash*

Kaidan: shhh, it’s okay… you… You fainted I… *pulls the cloth away and frowns seeing how much blood leaked from his eye* I- y-you went on a rampage, it was like you were trying to fight someone who wasn’t really there…

Riiju-Lei: I?… what? No I… I killed Ildari and then-

Taliesin: you were yourself until you… absorbed the energy? From her heart stone I… your hands…

Riiju-Lei: *looks at his hands as mounting confusion and horror suddenly fills him* I?… *looks at the now dark and sharp nails contrasted by pinkish red finger tips* I? N-no I- I chose Voryns voice, I chose him wh-why am I changing what’s happening to me?

Kaidan: *genuinely unnerved seeing him so afraid, actually afraid* w-we don’t know I- y-you were using some strange ass magic. You were teleporting all around the cave throwing fireballs and shooting some type of energy out of your eye like you were attacking someone.

Inigo: we thought you were attacking us at first!

Lucien: and then you just… self destructed… your whole body just went up in flames and you nearly brought the entire cave down on top of us…

Riiju-Lei: I… I did?… I- *looks around at his friends as tears well up in his eyes and his lip quivers, an indescribable pain in his chest he didn’t even feel when his parents died now taking over him* I- I- *chokes back a sob as he starts to cry* o-oh, m-my friends, I- I *voice cracking as he covers his face* I’m s-so sorry! I’m so sorry!

Team Dragonborn: *all huddle around him hugging him gently, all of them very afraid for their friend*

Taliesin: *brushes his hair out of his face* shhh, it’s okay… we’ll figure this out, I promised we would…

*Meanwhile*

Nerevar: *clad in his golden armour, readying to set off to find his voryn*

Captain Veleth: *kneels* lord nerevar allow some of my men to accompany you and your ordinators. Solstheim is a dangerous place right now. Between the ash spawn, the dragon attacks, and now people disappearing in their sleep and werebear attacks along the coast-

Nerevar: rise, captain.

Captain Veleth: *stands to attention*

Nerevar: I appreciate your offer, but it’d be best for your men to stay here and rest. After constant attacks to the bulwark I’m certain you especially need time to recuperate as well. *holds back his mowhawk and slides on his helmet* I assure you I will be fine…

*a few days later*

Miraak: *suddenly drops out of a portal from apocrypha landing in the snow of the Skaal village* ugh-

Riiju-Lei: *drops out of the portal landing on top of him* Ugh! *rolls off of him in pain having knocked the air out of himself* f-fuck. *gasps for breath as he grabs his sword and shakily grapples himself onto miraak again, holding his sword up over his head with one hand, and his throat with the other* Live. Or die. Your choice… swear loyalty to me- or… *looks down and the bloodied man beneath him, already submitted to him* … *looks back at his sword then down at him* oh god… what am I doing… *sets the blade down and climbs off of him* im a healer I’m… I… I lost control again…

Miraak: I could tell… I realised at points when I was talking to you… and when I was talking to the demon attempting to control you… but even still. *sits up, grunting in pain and clutching his side* you fought bravely… id be honoured to swear my loyalty to you dragonborn just… let me be on my feet if you do decide to kill me…

Riiju-Lei: I… I-I won’t kill you I saved you I’m not about to kill you… I just-

???: LEILEI!!!

Riiju-Lei: *looks up to see his friends running to them* my friends… *pauses feeling a sudden warmth in his chest, happiness, love…* My Friends!!! H-Heh-Haha! *staggers to his feet to greet them only to be left staring in confusion at them as they all stop just short of him, staring behind him at something or… someone*

???: Voryn?…

Riiju-Lei: … *turns around slowly and feels his heart skip a beat like it had never done before, as he stares at a figure clad in golden ordinator armour* I?… guess I am… who are?… you?…

Nerevar: *removes his helmet showing his pretty blue eyes and golden skin as he holds out his hand to him* Someone whose waited a long… long time to see you again. I’m-

Riiju-Lei: *not even realising he’s crying, whole body trembling as if hundreds of years worth of emotions are suddenly flooding through him and the voice of dagoth ur is drowned out in his head with memories of someone else’s… of his own… of his life before* … Someone… *takes his hand in his as his body slowly returns to his former handsome beauty, only his third eye remaining as any proof of his past life’s mistakes* …I… loved…

[gray-morality]

Utsāha 2023.07.13

Fakhri had lived in Thavnair for eight decades, granted he left for a number of years before returning to this land he called home. While his roots were still way up in the mountains of the Skatay Range, remaining at one place for so long meant he could claim being of its people, as surely as one born on this island. And perhaps because he’d been an outsider once, he ended up developing a fierce protectiveness for this nation that had welcomed him. Thus when he met the Sahib Hikmat Shah upon the End of Days, subsequently joining Jijivisha and becoming its ‘man on the ground’, it cemented that idea that he was there to watch over the people of this land. Which is why their earlier encounter with a certain trio - one Au ri man and two Midlander women - at the docks of Yedlihmad left a sour taste in his mouth. They had been nothing of importance at first, just a bunch of stowaways, perhaps, freshly arrived in Thavnair and seemingly in search of work. The way this group had approached them, however, had been peculiar, to say the least. Claiming they had spied on them and had discovered Seda was in charge, while Fakhri was likely her hired muscle. This alone was laughable and made it clear their ‘research’ was nothing but empty words. A simple stroll to check on a recent shipment had turned into a farce as the group continued on, stating what they could do in exchange of coins, none of which appealed to Seda. Jijivisha was indeed not in need of enforcers, as it already had its own people proficient in combat, if ever needed. It was clear to both Fakhri and Seda that those three suspicious characters were trying to gain the upper hand by striking a deal on their own terms. And this wasn’t going to happen. Every inquisitive question was being turned around and, after over a bell of needless talking, it became obvious they’d never see eye to eye; Those people definitely were not here to help the citizens of Thavnair. And then the man of the group had the audacity… "Near as I can tell, they need to buck up. It's a pretty enough place and in a way reminds me of home..but the people are soft. Lucky they survived at all.”

Had Fakhri been the type to punch someone in the face on impulse, that Au ra would have lost a few teeth. This whole encounter would easily have been brushed away at the end of the day, had it not been for that one sentence. How dare he belittle the people of a land who had suffered, first in line, to the greatest ordeal this star had ever faced! The jungle had burned, villages were destroyed, the people had to face their loved ones as they were transformed into beasts! Yet, despite all of this… the citizens of Thavnair lived on. They endured, they persevered, showing a strength and resilience that humbled the man that Fakhri was. His mind went to those who had lost a mother or a father, a sister or a brother, a son or a daughter, or were the last one standing, having lost them all. And what of this woman, who had lost her children and grandchildren. She knew that, at the end of her life, so would her family line end with no one to carry her name into the future. Yet she decided to live, so she could help rebuild their nation. She was old, but still had her health, and so she could cook and mend clothes for those working from sunrise to sundown.

Thavnairians have a word for this resilience, this ‘energy’ and desire to live; Utsāha. It came from a place of spirituality, to rouse within oneself a sentiment of heroism, happiness and determination. Some would call it zeal or simply enthusiasm but that always felt overly reductive to this Viera. And perhaps the reason why this resonated so much with him was that Fakhri was, after all, a survivor. He never met any of his kin outside their jungle or mountain that had lived for as long as him. With a lifespan fivefold as most of the races on the star, it would be easy to imagine the pain and sadness one could accumulate over the years as friends and loved ones reached the end of their lives, leaving the Viera behind. And Fakhri had faced his fair share of hardships in his long life and lost many dear to him, enough to make anyone question why he was still standing. Maybe it was Utsāha, or something very similar, passed down from the beliefs of his tribe; to live, to pass on one’s knowledge and experience and to honor the spirits of nature and one’s ancestors.

When Fakhri would breathe his last it won’t be by his own hand, but merely because his time has come. Until then, he would live - and love - persevering in the face of adversity; Just like Thavnair and its people.

[thefandomdirtymind]

The nostalgia of the half-fox

Part 1- part 2

ee Rang 

Tales of the Nine Tailed

A/N IMPORTANT: The story happen few years before the event of Tales of the Nine Tailed, Rang have rescued Yu-Ri but nothing from the show had happen yet. 

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.   

______________

Fate is a bitch, a twisted, cruel, vengeful bitch and she likes to play dirty.

Your fist lifted in the air at only a few inches of the metal panel, you hesitated, asking yourself for the thousandth time, time you didn’t have, why, of all the safer places in Seoul you could’ve ended up, you did find yourself in front of that door.

It wasn't a good place for you, not a friendly space where you could lick your wounds in peace. But, as your blood was dripping on the floor, staining the gray carpet of the hall you knew you didn’t have much time left to decide and you had to make your move before fate decided to do it for you.

And like an asshole she outplayed you.

“ Will you bleed to death in front of my door or will you ask for my help ? “ A masculine voice demands.

“ I’m still undecided, dying here or inside, it’s the to be or not to be questioned all over again” You respond, your gaze still trying to stay focused as your vision slowly becomes a blur.

Lifting your gaze to meet him, you sigh at the realization that your legendary sharp senses were starting slowly to betray you one by one.

Standing casually in the frame of the door you didn’t hear open, Lee Rang was looking at you, his usual smirk playing on his lips.

“ How will you get out of this situation now ? Foxes aren’t like cat Y/N, don’t confuse your tails with your numbers of life. Choose, come in or stay outside”

But the darkness welcomed you first.

______

                                                          -1-

You knew it was a trap.

Bad luck spirits would never leave a crowded place where they can eat bad energy as much as they want, or use the protection of the public's eyes, to wander suddenly in a deserted construction site.

After three hundred years as an agent of the underworld, you should have trusted your guts and called some help, but like the big nine tailed fox you are, you didn't.

A group of spirits wasn’t so uncommon but,  as much as you had hated to admit to yourself, the varieties of spirits who had surrounded you were clearly at your disadvantage and they knew it.

Even armed with your underworld sword. The fight, for both sides, had been hard, making you use a fair amount of technique and expertise. Atlas, as you watched the last member of the gang run away, your wound already hurting like hell and the poison of the snake spirit rushing in your veins, you knew that battle didn't truly have a winner.

Because a winner didn't leave a battle with an enemy to knock on the door of another.

You didn't know what you were thinking when you ended up on his doorstep. Only that, as much fate is a bitch, nostalgia has also his part to play and you wanted, for your death, one last venomous exchange with the brunette, no more no less.

As the cold embrace of darkness hugged you, you had the thought that, for once, Fate was in a good mood as she agreed to those few last words. But, like the life guideline cosmos, you didn't think that is sister, Destiny, would like too, to play his part.

—-

The sun was filtered by the hundred leaves above your head. The wind, delicate like a touch, was carrying the fresh scent of the waterfall and your favorite flowers. Behind you, you could hear the sound of his footsteps as he purchased you, making you scream and laugh as his arms finally reached your waist, promising you to never let you go.  

Your head was hurting, your body too warm to be comfortable and the light in the room way too bright.

The light ?

Opening your eyes, trying to acclimate your vision to the sunlight coming by the large windows, you slowly lift yourself, unsure of your exact location, neither of how you could have ended up in a room looking like a luxurious hotel room.

The last memory you had was delivering your last breath and the voice of Lee Rang close to your ear calling your name.

So where, since you were supposed to be dead, did you wake up ?

You were pretty sure too that Ms.Taluipa would never use her influence to change something as important as the date of your death. It wasn't that the old lady dislikes you in any form, more like she knows that her duty is more important than her employer and poor husband. Or at least, it is what you like to comfort you with when, after a hard mission, she simply gives you another task and screams at you about being hurt like a newbie.

" You're awake, wonderful."

Jumping in the bed, scared by the fact that you didn't hear any footsteps coming, you stare at the young woman who, with caution, approaches you with a steaming bowl of soup and chopstick in her hands.

" Who are you, no where am I, When did I…No why I didn't hear you coming ? " You couldn't help yourself to ask. Being scared wasn't in your nature, not anymore, but as the confusion was clouding your mind, the fear was also making you curious and clumsy.

" Oh, he told me that you might be confused, irritable,or even mean when you wake up. But that's okay, I had been there too. My name is Ki Yu-Ri. Nice to meet you. " She replied. " Mister Lee Rang said that your senses had been affected by the poison, you will recover them gradually."

So, it was where you are. You didn't enter on your own will but he had decided for you, and apparently succeed to keep you alive.  

" Lee Rang saved me… of his own initiative ?" You asked, unsure if you should trust her or should run as quickly as possible. If it was true that Lee Rang helped you, it was probably not by generosity.  

"Yes of my own initiative, I am still in debate with myself if I should make you pay the price of my ruined shirt or kill you myself after bringing you back from the dead. That snake spirit, apparently, couldn't die and let me take his antidote pouch without bleeding on my suit. I hope you had some emergency fund, it will cost you"

Lifting your gaze to meet his casual form standing against the doorframe. You forced yourself to stay still, all your functional senses in alert, taking small but deep breaths.

" I’m truly sorry if my survival ruins one of your suits, send me the bill and I will refund you with a thank you note" You reply sarcastically, pressing your hand again your forehead trying to calm the heavy headache " If you excuse me, the meal look delicious but I will go now "

Trying to exit the bed without questioning yourself about the large shirt you were wearing instead of your previous clothes, and without knocking down the bowl, the clearly mixed emotions Yu-ri had brought you. You sadly managed to make only a few steps before falling on your knees, your blurry vision focused on Lee Rang, clearly unimpressed.

" Here you are again, pushing yourself too hard. '' He said in a murmur, lifting you in his arms, returning you to the warm comfort of the bed. " I will not be nice forever, I want to have my bed back, so stop being stubborn, eat, sleep and heal fast"

Closing your eyes, ashamed of the weak state of your body you softly curse, unable to believe the situation you had put yourself into.

"You should have let me die" You finally said.

" I only do it because it seems like a good way to pay that old debt I owe you" Rang said, heading to the door, Yu-Ri on his heels.  

" I never ask you to repay that " You replied, your traitor heart now joining your head in a devilish hurt duo. " You were the one who insisted "

" I know. We were young and now I have to pay for it " He coldly answered, his hand resting on the door knob, a flaming fox promise ring burning on his finger. A promise he made to you long ago.

____

[i-did-not-mean-to]

If you feel up to this request!! This is one that's actually been sitting in my head for a bit revolving around the Ri's. I would LOVE to see your take on perhaps something several years before the quest in Ered Luin. I imagine Nori is in and out a lot what with his thievery, and Dori is taking care of Ori and such. What about a little reunion between the three and seeing what their little life together looks like while it's calm? :)

I love them so much, as well as your writing! Little Ori! Mothering Dori! And our favorite problem dwarf, Nori!

Hello my dear (thanks for this)

Here's my take on this (sorry, if it's sadder than expected)

Fandom: Hobbit

Words: 1,8k

Characters: the Ri-Brothers

@lordoftherazzles

@laurfilijames here's a bit of fluff for you <3

Ori woke up early that day, rubbing his eyes vigorously in hopes to get some of those infuriating freckles to disappear as well.

He could hear Dori puttering around in the kitchen and the smell of freshly baked goods, intermingled with spiced tea, filled the house already. Every so often, an intermittent silence fell like a blanket, only to be interrupted by furious activity again.

Ori called them “Nori’s sighs” because he knew that Dori was looking out of the window, hoping and dreading to see that ludicrous hairdo appear just above the lower frame. If he was being completely honest, Ori had to admit that he missed Nori sorely, but he wouldn’t tell Dori about it to spare his feelings.

Sighing, he scrambled into the layers and layers of soft garments, dismayed at the sting of envy he felt every time he thought of Kíli and Fíli – who were his friends but also his princes – and of their promising physiques clothed in leather and linen. Ori knew that the chances of him ever being anything more than a scrawny, plain, unimpressive little squirrel – from the colour of his hair to his tendency to hide between and behind old tomes – were very slim indeed.

Dori was proud of him though; he would always praise the neat runes Ori painted in painstaking, meticulous handiwork and give him the choicest bits of meat and the moist middle of cakes as a reward. Now that he was a little older, Ori suspected that Dori would have done so anyway, but it felt good to be appreciated, nonetheless.

As he padded into the kitchen noiselessly, he caught his oldest brother staring wistfully out of the window, muttering to himself that the mutton chops he had been holding back would not keep forever.

“He’ll be here,” Ori promised, overcome with guilt when Dori whirled around as if caught doing something naughty.

“Who? I don’t know what you are talking about,” the older dwarrow said defensively, but Ori could see the pain in his eyes before it sunk back to the bottom of his soul like a stone thrown into a deep lake.

The autumn storms had left the trees naked and shivering in the cold; it was time for Nori to come home, laden with gifts that he might or might not have paid coin for and grinning ear to ear. Dori would huff a lot and complain even more, but Ori knew that he was happy to have all of them together at the same table.

Ori could tell because Dori would spend hours in the kitchen and he would not ration the firewood or the candles when Nori was home; yes, it was always a merry time when both his brothers were there.

He remembered that one time when Nori had spread mud all over the good doilies because he had stood on the living room table with his boots still on to hang decorations for Yule, and the time he had almost set the whole house aflame trying to roast candied apples over the open fire because they were Dori’s favourite.

Nori brought mischief and catastrophe with him wherever he went, but he also inhaled boundless, incandescent joy and life into their dreary humdrum existence with his ludicrous ideas and his resourceful energy. Everything was brighter and more colourful when Nori was around and – especially in the cold season – Ori could do with the fireflies of creativity dancing around Nori.

“Come, eat your breakfast, little one,” Dori smiled and ruffled a thick-fingered hand through the mop of wiry, rust-coloured hair affectionately before setting down a steaming bowl of porridge in front of Ori.

Sometimes, he wanted to tell his brother that he knew that they were “in reduced circumstances” and offer to share the best bits with him, but he knew that Dori would pretend not to understand him and refuse his offer, just because Dori would rather die than see him deprived of anything.

Often, Ori thought about telling him – and Nori – more often how much he loved them and how thankful he was for his sheltered childhood in the heart of the Blue Mountains; there were so many things he wanted to show himself grateful for – the ink, the pens, the paper, the books – but he was too shy to actually speak the words, so he drew perfect runes and followed Master Balin religiously.

One day, he’d be a great scribe and he would restore his family to their former glory, one day, he’d repay all his dues by being diligent, humble, and kind, just as Dori has taught him to be. One day.

The door flew open and there he was, the brother who was so troublesome that Ori did his best to be as perfect as possible to make up for it, the brother he loved with all the fierce, idealistic admiration of a child.

“NORI,” he cried out, leaping into the other dwarf’s arms, and letting himself be hugged a little too tightly.

“Little brother, how you have grown,” Nori laughed and – even though Ori knew this to be a bald-faced lie – he was happy to hear his brother’s warm voice again.

“So, you’re back. Just in time for breakfast,” Dori greeted calmly, standing in the doorframe of the kitchen and handing the bowl he had prepared for himself over graciously.

“I am, thank you, Dori. How have things been?” Nori started eating where he was, much to the annoyance of his older brother who cared much about etiquette and the proper way of doing things, and grinned between heaps of porridge shovelled into his mouth.

“We are getting by, Nori, as we always do,” Dori informed him – slightly piqued by the underlying insinuation that he did not take proper care of the young one – and steered both his brothers back to the kitchen.

There was pride in Dori’s eyes as he watched them eat, a quiet satisfaction warmed by the devoted love he felt for those two rascals, and even if that meant that he’d go hungry this morning, he could not imagine being happier than he was now.

“I have brought some things for you,” Nori said, holding up a hand to stay his brother, “and I’ve paid for most of them, I swear.”

He unpacked a few books for Ori, making the little one wipe his nose inconspicuously, and some cloth and other household items for Dori.

“Thank you so much,” Ori exclaimed, gathering his new trophies, and turning the beam of his pleading, luminous eyes on Dori.

“Yes, run along and read your books, I’ll call you for lunch,” Dori smiled and – like a flash – the boy was out the kitchen to hide in some cosy corner and disappear within a story.

“You seem displeased brother; I am trying hard to help providing for Ori, what more do you want from me?” Nori huffed, annoyed by the lack of reaction from his older sibling whose eyes bore mercilessly down on him.

“I need you to be here, Nori, don’t you understand? Ori misses you…I miss you,” Dori sighed.

“You just want to keep an eye on me,” Nori laughed, but the sound was shakier than he’d have liked it to be.

“Is that so wrong? You are my brother, of course I want to keep an eye on you,” Dori grunted while turning away – seemingly to wash the dishes – but Nori knew that he was trying to hide the tears of frustration and hurt pride that had welled up.

“I’ll be here the whole winter, Dori, I promise,” Nori murmured pleadingly; he was aware that he would never be up to the standards of a gentledwarrow such as Dori and he was deadly afraid that the wicked demon that churned within his soul and heart would end up costing Dori his sanity and Ori his future.

He had tried to be good for their sake, but the wide world and all its temptations called to him with their irresistible siren’s song again and again and so, he left to keep his brothers safe from the consequences of his stupid actions.

“We live in the constant fear that one day, you won’t come back,” Dori admitted in a low voice.

“I will always come back, Dori, you know that,” Nori replied, because there is no place like home, because there is nobody who matters more than you two, because I can only leave knowing that you’ll be my beacon when I lose my way.

Just like his younger brother, Nori kept a lot of things inside his heart that he did not dare speak out loud, but that didn’t mean that those things were any less true.

The mutton was excellent and – after dinner – Nori showed them a game he had learned in some tavern a world away.

Ori decided that he would write down the rules and fashion cards for the game himself; indeed, he would paint them with his own two hands and gift them to Nori for Yule so he could take them with him when he left again.

They played until his eyes were heavy and filled with sand and his head dropped onto his hands, folded jealously over the worn cards; at some point, he heard – as from very far away – Nori’s voice pleading: “Let me, please, Dori.”

A second later, Ori smelled the familiar scent of his brother’s clothes and felt his strong arms around his frail frame as he was lifted out of his chair and carried back to his room.

Struggling against the leaden veil of fatigue trying to drag him under, Ori mumbled hazily: “Nori? Will you stay this time?”

A low chuckle resounded, and a warm hand closed around his cold cheek. “Yes kid, for now, I’ll stay. Now sleep! When you wake up, I’ll be there, and we can go into the village and get some baked apples.”

“Can we get some for Dori too? He loves them!” Ori yawned, struggling to open his eyes.

“Yes, Ori, we’ll get the best ones for Dori, alright? Now sleep!” He petted his brother’s soft, warm hair a minute longer, unable to get up and take his eyes off the pale, freckled face of the miraculous creature that was Ori.

How two so absolutely different and – in their own way – terrible dwarrows like him and Dori had managed to raise such an excellent, gentle, smart, and genuine soul surpassed his understanding, but one thing was for sure, he would never really leave them.

“He’ll be a great dwarrow, one day,” Nori whispered, feeling Dori come in to check on the little one, making sure he had everything he needed.

“Yes…and where will you be, Nori?” Dori asked, leaning against the bedframe, waiting for a genuine answer.

“As long as you both are here, Dori, I will come back, and if you ever leave this place, I’ll be right behind you, like a gnat on your back,” he looked at the sleeping dwarrow, barely more than a pebble, a boulder maybe, never to become a rock most probably, “for him.”

“For him,” Dori nodded slowly and retreated to his own bed, leaving Nori to his thoughts.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part II

© sailorhyunjinz 2021; Rights Reserved

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!Hyunjin x fem!model!reader, model!bestfriend!Felix, barista!Seungmin, agedup!straykids, fluff, character driven story, stranger to lovers, summer!au, mentions of death/passing away, mentions of injury, slight angst, mentions of self doubt, mentions of bad economy. 

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4.6 k 

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: lmao if anyone is wondering why the cafe is open at night; it actually exists! most commonly found in korea but hey this fic doesnt have a set place so just imagine that it’s a cafe that works 24/7 ALRIGHTY? 

If you have any feedback I’m more than happy to receive it! <3

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

“What do you think this means? Why does he want to contact me?”

You anxiously paced around the living room, Felix sitting on the small grey sofa, his soft brown eyes going from left to right, following your distressed figure.

“Maybe he just wanted to talk to you directly, make it feel more personal you know?”

Felix sounded unsure of his own answer as he tilted his head questioningly, his gaze still glued on you.

“But why does he want to know me personally? Does he do this with every model?” You bit your lip as you thought, stopping hastly before running to the kitchen and grabbing the water bottle from the day of the photoshoot. 

“y/n! What are you even...” Felix abruptly halted his sentence before widening his eyes at your intentions.

“Surely you’re not actually gonna call him?” he asked in surprise.

“I should at least find out what his motive is! I can’t just ignore the poor boy can I?” you held the water bottle tightly in your hand, removing the plastic wrapper with the number scribbled on and observed his delicate handwriting.

“He seems...strange, to say the least. He rarely talks to people during events and is only ever interested in anything that involves his work.” 

Felix knew since he himself was a model. The two of you met during a casting in the earlier years of your career, both being youthful teenagers with dreams and slightly puffy cheeks, babyfat that eventually got away and revealed your hidden features. The day of the casting Felix injured his foot causing him to fall when walking in front of the hawk-eyed judges. Your heart ached when you saw his desperate figure on the cold floor, he was just like everyone else in that frigid casting room, just a youngster with a dream. You passed the audition, smiling as you accepted a blue clipboard with papers from the judges, feeling everyone’s eyes drilling into your back with jealousy. Moments later, after night had fallen over the big city, you found Felix hunched over a small step of stairs meant for the fire escape. 

“H-hey,,,uhm, are you fine?”

You hestitated speaking to the quivering boy, his hands covering his face as tears dripped of his chin. 

“W-what do you care?!” he spat towards you, his attitude making you want to leave but you felt to guilty to do that, after all he was simply upset and not actually mad. 

You inched closer to his cowered body and sat down next to him on the hard stone steps. You looked at him in guilt. You had passed the audition but how were you any better than him? Softly, you put your hand on his shoulder, patting it a couple of times and letting the dark haired boy cry out, his sobs echoing in the dark stairway. He leaned into your touch and you ended up hugging him in silence for what seemed like hours. 

Times change and here he is. Signed to a highly respectable agency and catching flights left to right. Nothing more made you prouder than knowing that he didn’t give up on his dream.

“Felix! He’s not strange... maybe he’s just shy?” you tried to defend Hyunjin but realised how defensive you got over somebody you barely knew.

“Shy? In this line of work?” he furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at the white wrapper in your hands. “I’m not sure...what if he’s interested in you in that way?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest upon hearing Felix’s words. 

“You mean r-romantically?” you cleared your throat, feeling butterflies in the depths of your stomach. 

“Well...that will never happen, don’t wanna ruin your career, right y/n?”

Your gaze fell onto the white wrapper in your hand as your heart started beating faster. 

“R-right y/n?” He coughed as you grabbed your phone and started typing in the digits, glancing over at the wrapper and pressing accordingly. 

“Y/n, are you crazy? What if he actually has romatic interests in you? That could ruin both of your careers especially since he’s a world famous photographer that has every girl wrapped around his finger because of his looks.” Felix spoke bitterly, looking at your phone screen and then back at you with heightened eyebrows. 

“I’ll guess I’ll have to find out, Felix” 

“Ok but do that after I leave, I don’t want to hear you talk about him anymore and also be careful. You never know whats brewing on the inside in people like him” he said while rolling his eyes.

“What you wanna eat then bestie?” you laughed as you threw your phone onto the couch and made your way to the pantry. 

♡ 

Hours later Felix was waveing at your from the other of the door, you waved back at the freckled boy, smiling at him. 

“Be careful with that dude!” he yelled as he walked down to the flight of stairs, his voice echoing in the old apartment complex. 

“I will, mom!” you laughed at his cute consideration before shutting the heavy door. 

Silence broke out once the door shut, leaving you alone in the apartment yet again. You dragged your feet on the light laminated floor, making your way to the couch where your phone was buried underneath a multitude of pillows. 

“Where did I put that number”. You searched for it, finding your phone and the wrapper wedged between two seat cushions. Sitting down, you landed with a thump on the soft couch, the blue light from your phone emitting onto your face as you typed in the number yet again. A big lump was situated in your throat, your hands shaking as you sent a message to the number. 

[y/n] Hi! It’s y/n, it was a pleasure working with you. 

You stared at the message you sent before cursing to yourself. 

“Why the fuck did I write that? He’s gonna think that I’m some sort of weirdo, can I ever do anything ri-”

A pling from your phone erupted in the living room, catching you off guard. It’s probably not him, why would he reply so fast?

You were wrong, it was him.

[Hyunjin] Hello! It’s Hyunjin, hope you weren’t too surprised at me leaving my number. I’m just happy that you decided to reply. 

You gulped as you typed. It didn’t seem like he’d ever done something like this before. 

[y/n] No, not at all! Did the pictures turn out well?

[Hyunjin] Oh, you haven’t seen them? 

[y/n] My manager usually shows them on the date of the release...

[Hyunjin] How about this, we meet up and I’ll show you the pictures beforehand. We’ll keep it a secret from your company. 

M-meet up? This soon? A million thoughts passed through your mind in an instant, your mind zoning out while your eyes were glued on the well-lit screen that displayed the messages. You were curious about the photos but also about him. Wanting to know more about the blond boy and his abrupt ways you replied back, fingers shaking while moving over the keyboard.

[y/n] Sure, when and where?

You didn’t have any work to do anyways so why not solve the mystery called Hwang Hyunjin?

[Hyunjin] 2 PM, tomorrow

An adress was attached to the message which led to cafe you used to work at, not to far from your place. You placed your phone beside you and looked up at the white ceiling, sighing heavily. Maybe Felix was right, it’s strange to meet someone you’ve only met once, especially since he’s met countless of models just like you if not even better. The thoughts consumed too much of your energy and you ended up falling asleep on the couch, chest heaving peacefully. 

♡ 

The sudden vibration of your phone woke you up, the sun shining through the window as you grabbed your phone, light straining your eyes. 

[Felix] I’m 100% sure that you messaged that dude, right?

You laughed before typing through squinting eyes, laying down on your back.

[y/n] What if I did? 

[Felix] You’re insane 

[y/n] That’s my charm, Lixie~

Putting the phone away you slowly sat up, looking around the sunlit living room as if you’d never seen it before. Rubbing your weary eyes, you yawned before thinking ‘breakfast!’

Without even taking one step to the kitchen your phone vibrated once again. You lifted your eyebrow at the signal but ignored it for the time being, thinking that’s it’s Felix pestering you about your desicion to talk to Hyunjin. After you made a bowl of porridge and quickly washed up in the bathroom you grabbed the phone, wanting to scroll through your socials but what you saw on your home screen made the spoon of porridge that was on it’s way towards your mouth stop.

[Hyunjin] Slept well?

You’ve met him once and he’s already asking such a question? But something made you believe that this isn’t how he normally is. He’s hiding a type of shyness underneath those bold messages and actions. This Hyunjin isn’t the one that you’ve been described, this is a different Hyunjin. 

Your mind was blank. What do you even reply to that? In search for answers you texted Felix, knowing he wouldn’t give you a good answer but at least some emotional support. 

[y/n] Lixie, what does one reply to the question “Slept well?”

[Felix] You don’t, you pack up your things and you leave.

[y/n] You dickhead

[Felix] That’s my charm y/n~

If you could punch someone through the screen you would punch Felix. Returning back to the message that Hyunjin sent you, you quickly typed something down and sent it. 

[y/n] Yeah, fine! Everything well with you?

[Hyunjin] Yes, it’s fine. See you later then, y/n

The porridge infront of you had cooled down, now being a sloppy mess of oats with a spoon slowly sinking into the substance. You stared at the message before your gaze returned to the breakfast bowl. This wasn’t going to be an easy day. 

♡ 

The clock ticked as your stomach was filling up with butterflies, one by one. 

“This is a casual meeting not a date, y/n” you mumbled as you tapped your foot, standing infront of the multiple racks of clothing in your slightly stuffy walk-in closet. You rarely wore even half of the clothes. Most of the pieces were sent by companies or given to you after photoshoots, this being both a blessing and a curse. 

Your hand gravitated towards a white blouse with puffy sleeves because it reminded you of him. You shook your head wanting to get the thought out of your head. You hated that you cared so much about him but at the same time you knew why. Because he ignited a feeling of longing. A feeling called love. 

Snatching the blouse from it’s hanger you digged through your drawers and fished up a pair of beige colored wide pants. You glanced at the brown watch on your wrist as you stepped into the pants, pulling off your pyjama top in one swift motion before putting on the flowy blouse. You looked in the mirror, combing through your hair with your fingers and reaching for a pair of pearl earrings that rested in a small tray infront of the mirror. Turning around, you observed the shelf that displayed the dozens of shoes in your possession, all while tilting your head and putting on the small pearls. Varnished heels would be good, right? Stretching out your arm to grab the heels, your gaze feel on your watch. As usual, you were going to be late and you hoped with every bit of your mind that Hyunjin wouldn’t find you rude. With the heels on you grabbed your purse, throwing in your keys that were decorated with keychains off all shapes and sizes as you staggered out the door. 

The breeze hit your face as you made your way down the street, the heels clicked against the broad stone sidewalk making both women and men turn their heads. Lucky for you, Hyunjin chose the cafe where you happened to know somebody working at. 

That somebody being your friend Seungmin. 

You see, when you were just starting your career money was an issue. Your family wasn’t well off and when you set out to find your calling in the big city without a stable job your family was worried to say the least. You moved into a small apartment that more looked like a mouse burrow than an apartment. Holding a bag of trash you went down to the lobby of the apartment complex, the trashcan reeking as you lifted the lid and quickly threw in the bag, bending your spine backwards with a disgusted look on your face. Walking back you accidentally knocked down a paper that was resting on a corkboard by just how fast you walked passed. The light yellow paper landed infront of your feet, halting your movements. You picked it up.

« Searching for barista assistent »

The pay wasn’t too bad and neither were the working hours and so you folded the paper and went back into the apartment, smiling as you thought that this was the moment when everything changed. 

And it did. Seungmin became one of your first friends in the city, right after Felix came into your life. You have very fond memories of that cafe. Working late nights with Seungmin, drinking coffee to stay awake through the late hours. 

“What’s your dream, y/n?” Seungmin asked on one of the first days, still not knowing who you were and what your goals in this big city was.

“I-i want to become a model” you muttered underneath your breath, scared that he was going to belittle you and crush your dreams into nothing but fine powder.

“I believe in you, y/n” he said in a low voice, wiping the counter, not making eye contact as you stood on the other side. 

Silence overtook the empty cafe, the low humming of cars on the road being the only noise that was heard before you cleared your throat, looking down at your shoes and leaning against the counter.

“Thank you Seungmin, that means a lot” you said before the silence took over again. 

You swore you could’ve cried right then and there. Hearing those words when being in such a vulnerable situation really did mean a lot to you. His words stuck with you and in every interview where the interviewer asked about what you want to tell to aspiring models you always said those words. “I believe in you.”

The neon pink open sign in the window was brightly lit, the silhouette of people sipping on their lattes and chatting could be seen from the outside of the reminiscent building that was covered in hops. You stepped in, your heels making a loud clicking noise on the dark walnut colored wood flooring.

“How can I hel- y/n!!” Seungmin looked up at you, standing infront of the espresso machine as steam was billowing out. The other co-workers gave you a glance before returning to their tasks. 

“y/n! I haven’t seen you in so long, how are you?” he asked, you had contact on the phone but didn’t meet each other too much due to different schedules. 

“Minnie! I’ve missed you!” you squealed out as he walked through the low wooden gate that seperated the working area from the rest of the cafe. Seungmin pulled you into a hug, warmness emitting onto you as your bodies touched. 

“I’ve been good!” you continue, smiling as you pulled away from the hug seeing Seungmins waist defined by the strings of the apron wrapping around him, a kitchen towel hanging from his shoulder. 

“But I have to tell you something, Seungmin” you say quietly making the dark haired boy tilt his head in question. 

“I’m meeting Hwang Hyunjin here in about 5″ you say with a smirk, knowing Seungmin would be jealous.

“Wait,,, the Hwang Hyunjin?!” he said a bit too loudly, alerting the customers before he turned to them with a embarrassed smile, bowing his head in an apology. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“He was the one that suggested it, I couldn’t help it” you answered to which Seungmin’s eyes widened.

“H-he knows about this place?” He was stunned as he looked into your warm eyes.

“Yeah? Such a coincidence right? I was sur-” Your sentence was cut short as Seungmin’s breath hitched and a cold breeze hit your back. You turned back and there he was. 

Hyunjin. 

His presence shined in the relativly small rustic cafe. A white t-shirt and black slacks decorated his well toned body, a long leather coat draping over his shoulders as his black boots shined perfectly. Multiple silver chains hanged around his neck and the rings from last time were boldly placed on his lanky fingers. The blonde boy is tightly gripping what looks to be brown leather computer clutch. 

He waved awkwardly and you smiled sweetly his way, playfully hitting Seungmin whose mouth was wide open, looking at the dashing boy. Hyunjin walked over to you, the other guests staring and some of them already picking up their phones to capture this moment. He looked oddly stiff, mannerisms totally different from how you saw him last. 

“Hi Hyunjin! uhm,,, this is my friend Seungmin, he works here.” you said, trying to initiate a conversation but only earning a wide eyed expression from Seungmin before Hyunjin spoke. 

“Nice to meet you!” he smiled, his eyes forming into half-moons.

Seungmin snapped back to reality before bowing slightly, his eyes twinkling and his ruffled hair landing infront of his deep brown eyes.

“It’s an honor to meet you, mr Hwang” 

Hyunjin chuckles slightly at his cute gesture.

“Your cafe seemed charming” was the only thing he could response before looking at you and blushing. 

“2 americanos, Minnie” you said, momentarily glancing at Hyunjin before staring down at your heels. 

“It’s on me” Seungmin leaned in to whisper in your ear to which you giggled and looked at Hyunjin’s confused expression. You pointed at a table in the corner of the cafe with your chin, signaling to sit down.

As you walked over to the cedar table you couldn’t help but to wonder about his duality. He seemed so comfortale last time, talking to you with no problem and being as bold as to leave his number but now he seemed like a young school boy that wanted to ask his crush out. You started to understand what Felix meant by “people like him”. 

You sat down on one of the wooden chairs with steel details, the only thing seperating you from Hyunjin being the light ash table. He pulls out his computer, clicking away as you observe his perfect features. His concentrated eyes were fierce but had a soft gaze, his plush pink lips being soft, perfect for kissing you thought as your eyes drifted to his adams apple that bobbed everytime he swallowed.

Before Hyunjin could show you his screen Seungmin came over, shyly placing the drinks on the table and striking his sweet smile your way to which you laughed inaudibly until he went back behind the counter, observing the action from afar. 

Hyunjin cleared his throath nervously as he turned his computer to show you the colorful photos, looking at your judging gaze in reassurance as he sipped on his americano. 

You were amazed. The photoshoot seemed simple when you modelled but no one could have ever guessed that by just looking at the photo. It had a touch of charisma. The angles, the lighting and the editing made this originally plain photo look dimentional while still having a youthful touch with the pastels.

“W-what do you think?” He said, looking at the screen as his ring finger flicked through the pictures, pressing on the right arrow key on the keyboard. 

“It’s amazing, no wonder you’re so famous” you said while grabbing your americano without lifting your gaze from the enticing photos. Heat rose to Hyunjin’s cheeks upon hearing your words. Sure, he’d heard it before but not from you. Not in that cute, geniune voice that ringed through his ears like music. 

“Thank you y/n” he said, his gaze drifting over to you. He was stunned from how beautiful you looked in the cozy ambiance of the cafe. A wall plant descended down behind you as your eyes twinkled when you caught eye contact with the blond boy. Everything he wanted to do right now was to capture your beauty, make this moment last forever. 

“Earth to Hyunjin” you said, giggling as his gaze froze on you, feeling your heated cheeks get even hotter. 

“Uhm,,, s-sorry, wanna get some sneak peaks from other photoshoots?”

You nodded excitingly, feeling special but also questioning why he treated you so specially. He was shy, theres no doubt about that but it almost seems like he trusts you. You move your chair closer to him, wanting to see the screen properly before you notice Hyunjin shifting awkwardly in his seat, not used to being this close to you. 

“H-here are some I took last week, another one of mr Styliz many projects” he smiled timidly before taking another sip of his beverage. 

Once again you were amazed by his talent but what caught your attention even more was how undressed the female model was, her curvy body being covered by nothing more than a short glittery dress with a plunging neckline, displaying her cleavage. In her hands there was a delicate red bottle, decorated with art deco lines.

“What was the concept?” you asked, curious of this sensual vibe that emitted from this photo. 

“Something along the lines of elegancy. It’s for Aurora Perfumes”

He namedropped the famous brand in the most colloquial fashion, seemingly an everyday occurence for him. 

“Y-you worked for Aurora? That’s,,, wow” you were speechless as Hyunjin quietly giggled at your reacting, waveing his hand in the air in disagreement.

“I don’t like to b-brag about my career so hopefully I don’t come across that way” he said, almost worryingly. 

“No! Not all, it’s really impressive, your entire career is.”

Your sweet voice made his heart flutter, never before had he heard compliments sound this pleasant. 

“Why did you become a photographer?” you asked, your curiosity bubbling over as he looked at you with his penetrating brown eyes. The mood suddenly got cold. Hyunjin took a deep breath, exhaling loudly from his nose as you sipped on your coffee. 

“I’m an only child and therefore I spent a lot of time with my grandparents when I was younger.” 

You knew this was going to be a sad story, you bit the inside of your cheek, regretting asking that question as you thought that it might be too personal but judging from how Hyunjin’s words spilled from his mouth you believed that he felt comfort telling you.

“They had photoalbums stacked up in their attic which I flipped through for hours, observing their youth and innocence and seeing how time fled by. When I got my first camera I was overjoyed, taking pictures of everything around me and putting them up on my wall, acting as if my room was an art gallery.”

He smiled when talking, his voice turning mellow as he reminisced. 

“But when my grandparents passed away,,, I noticed that I didn’t have any photos of them nor of my friends or family which made me feel disappointed. I had spent so much of my time trying to capture beauty when beauty was infront me.”

Shivers ran down your spine as his sugared voice ran through the words. Hyunjin looked nervously down on the table and you did the same, not knowing what to say or how to comfort the blond boy. 

“I-I’m sorry for your loss” 

That was the only sentence you could muster to say but Hyunjin glanced at you, his dimples appearing as he smiled. 

“Why are you sorry? No one usually asks me that question so it feels nice to get it off my chest.”

You nodded shyly as silence erupted in between the two of you. 

“It really was a pleasure working with you y/n, I would like to have you modell for me again” he blurts out, trying to put an end to the painful silence.

“Y-you what? B-but my manager hasn’t told me anything ab-”

“No, just the two of us.”

You went quiet, not believing your ears. A photoshoot, the two of you? Isn’t that practically a confession? Your dazed mind seemed to wander off to places far off, imagining the tension that would be looming over the both of you. Felix sure as hell wasn’t going to like this but you didn’t care. Hyunjin seemed comfortable with you, talking as if he’d known you for years and now he was asking you to modell for him? Saying no to this opportunity would be a crime.

“S-sure, when were you thinking?”

“You free tomorrow?” Hyunjin says, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs comfortably, looking up at you through a curtain of blonde. 

“Yeah,,, sounds great!”

A smile crept up on your face as heat rose to your cheeks, feeling everything and nothing all at once. In this moment you didn’t care about the shutter coming from the guests phone cameras. You just cared about him. 

The next half an hour went by in a blur. In that short time you probably covered half of the conversational topics on this earth. Hyunjin laughed as you told him about your childhood.

“That’s so cute y/n”

“Well it wasn’t cute in the moment but now I can laugh at it” you laughed with him, stroking a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“I think you’re cute y/n” 

“Of course I was cute when I was little” you roll your eyes at him, tears prickling in your eyes from laughter but when you glanced at Hyunjin he wasn’t laughing, he was simply observing you. 

“I think you’re cute now” 

You froze. All these things he’s saying made your heart beat faster than ever, a nervosity that couldn’t be described with words.

“You too” you exclaimed without thinking to which Hyunjin glanced at you with a grin. He coughed before streching his arms.

“Time to head home?” He said, packing up his computer. 

“Yeah, I have something to do” you said looking at your watch, knowing very well that you had absolutely nothing to do for the rest of the day except for anxiously thinking out every potential scenario that could occur tomorrow.

“Meet me at my studio tomorrow at 5 pm”

You nodded carefully, knowing exactly where his famous studio was.

“Don’t tell Bangchan I showed you the photos” he laughed mischievously, looking a bit like a ferret. 

“Alright, alright I won’t even though I really want to tell him how good of a photographer you are” you said cheekily as you stood up. The both of you headed towards the wooden door with glass panes, flashing a wink towards Seungmin that had his eyebrows heightened, amazed from how the little cafe lit up with two attractive people walking side by side. 

Outside the sun beamed, the bustling of the city and high skyscrapers stimulating your senses. 

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow Hyunjin”

You scratch the back of your neck nervously as you speak before remembering something.

“Oh! Do you have a concept in mind?”

“Wear whatever, I’ll think of a way around it” he said. 

“Mhm! See you tomorrow!”

“Text me when you’re home, ok?” 

That sentence made your heart flutter and before you could embarrass yourself by saying anything stupid he waved, his rings shining in the sunlight. Turning around, you promptly started walking back home.

Your heart thumping, your thoughs scattered, your mind dazed. 

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo​ @fleeingreality @nycol-ie​ @jisungsplatforms @p0t4t0don14ll

[i-am-lost-and-need-a-map]

COBRA KAI SPOILERS AND OPINIONS AHEAD!! I JUST NEED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM!

This is for my baby Robby Keene! 🥺😭💕

I love LOVE seeing all the support for Robby Keene he’s my favorite character!

But I still see so many hate comments for Robby about he’s a jerk and aggressive and temperamental and awful during season 3 but like HE DIDNT GET THERE BY HIMSELF! IT TOOK WORK TO TURN HIM THAT WAY! And sure he made choices and I don’t think he’s a saintly Angel, he’s made mistakes and he hasn’t made it easy to get close to him (Gee I wonder why) but he’s not bad and there’s a reason why he’s like this.

Robby feels alone and abandoned, mostly because has been and currently is!

The hardest part about all this is that they are SOOOO close ALL the time! It would be so easy! Just love him! Care about him! Support him! Don’t treat him like he’s an inconvenience and don’t just care or support or love him when it’s convenient for you Daniel and Johnny! I mean EVEN SAM AND MOST DEFINITELY HIS MOTHER! Like I love all three of them to bits but ROBBY DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO DESERVE THIS! He put in the work, the time, the energy, and he was an amazing student and son and boyfriend! But they don’t give him the time of day and they’re only there for him when it’s convenient for them and they do everything that’s “the best for him” but like was it ever?

Daniel could’ve taken five seconds to sit down and walk Robby through a plan but NO he decided that Robby turning himself in was best for Robby and he didn’t get a say in it AT ALL HE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON! And Daniel time and time again has tossed him out for being “no good” and then brought him back just to do the same thing AGAIN!

Johnny gave up on Robby and started fresh with Miguel because it was easier then working things out with his son! Johnny decided that it was a lost cause before he even tried! He only got involved when Miguel or Daniel was involved and I know he’s trying but he needs to just DO IT! He has to commit if he wants to have a relationship it’s not just whenever Johnny feels like it!

I mean even Sam! Robby and Sam weren’t even broken up when he went to jail and she was NEVER over Miguel when she was with Robby and she tried but he had no hope and she should’ve just talked it out with Miguel! Robby backed off the second he realized she had a boyfriend! He was honestly amazing in the relationship every step of the way through and Sam and Robby had their good moments but she was still not over Miguel and maybe even subconsciously just using Robby to get over Miguel just to move back to Miguel in a blink of an eye when he’s IN JAIL! He was willing to hear Sam out when he found her with Miguel! Maybe he was coming on a little strong I can see why Miguel got involved BUT HELL ID BE ANGRY TOO!

NOT ONE OF THEM CAME TO SEE HIM AT HIS LOWEST MOMENT IN JAIL! The Larusso’s called and messaged, did any of them visit? NO! Johnny planned on going, let Robby down AGAIN, and tried to make things right, then basically told Robby it was his fault that Miguel fell off the balcony and that he picked Miguel AGAIN! His mother didn’t try to visit, his father failed to visit, his teacher didn’t visit, his girlfriend didn’t visit. He had NO ONE! He was terrified and lost! He didn’t have anyone on his side who he could trust and feel safe with! No one came to visit him, no one stood up for him, no one asked what he wanted or felt, no one was on his side, no one welcomed him back or tried to prove to him that they were there for him (except when he was let out and even then Daniel and Johnny treated it like a competition and let Robby walk away and didn’t try after again after that!) There was NO ONE!

Kreese showed up and he went to Kreese afterwards because he had no where left to go! He tried to get along with everyone in Cobra Kai while he was there. He didn’t pick fights, he bantered, he helped with the snake (he put his bare hand in a cage with a snake and pulled that mf right out like a champ comin in clutch!) and he even was willing to leave and not over stay his welcome or give into his anger. He was guided the wrong way but he wanted to get on a better path and wanted to work on himself! He just didn’t know how, didn’t know where to go, and didn’t have any proper guidance except for Kreese who was the ONLY one to visits him and gave him helpful advice instead of patronizing him like Daniel or scolding and insulting him like Johnny.

Daniel didn’t try to bring him back to Miyagi Do he gave up after one failed conversation! Johnny didn’t try to comfort his son and guide him after a traumatic experience he gave up after one run in with Larusso!

And let’s not forget the fight that started Robby going to jail! Miguel could not have picked a WORSE TIME to be merciful!! I applaud him for being merciful but THERES A TIME AND A PLACE! Miguel and Sam kissed while her and Robby were still dating, Miguel told him that Sam loved him and not Robby and basically never did, and told him all his moves he learned from ROBBY’S DAD! They were in a physical fight and the aggression and testosterone was high! MIGUEL YOU COULDVE PICKED A BETTER TIME TO HAVE MERCY BEFORE VERBALLY SPITTING IN HIS FACE! Besides it wasn’t on purpose! Robby didn’t purposefully push him over the balcony! In fact he seemed just as surprised as everyone else was! He acted on instinct and impulse to get away an attacker. He ran away because he was afraid and didn’t know what to do! Watching the scene when he was talking to Daniel he genuinely felt TERRIBLE and was beating himself up over it! He didn’t do it on purpose and he was drowning in grief and guilt.

Im not saying that Robby had it the hardest because he should take responsibility for his actions and was completely in the wrong on attacking Miguel and causing him to fall off the railing. I don’t think Robby should’ve run and I think he should’ve approached it all differently but HE DIDNT ACTIVELY TRY AND SHOVE MIGUEL OVER THE BALCONY! ITS NOT COMPLETELY HIS FAULT and the fact that Tory started the fight and she got let off easier is not fair!

He tried to stop it! In the beginning Robby actively tells everyone to settle down and tries to defuse the situation but it naturally continues to scale out of control! But Robby never actively wanted to kill or put Miguel in the hospital! He didn’t throw him off the balcony or pull a Mufasa and Scar “long live the king” moment! He didn’t realize that Miguel was even showing mercy, he just saw this as a chance to get away and get even in a dangerous place! Miguel could’ve easily broken Robby’s arm and Robby knew that and after the tournament of course he isn’t going to trust Miguel! Especially all of the actions and words Miguel used during the fight. How could Robby have known that Miguel was going to stop fighting or show mercy!

I want Miguel and Robby to talk it out and come to a good place! I want Sam to explain things to Robby so they can also be in a good place! I plead that Johnny and Daniel will please PLEASE give Robby the care and support that he NEEDS! I just want them to realize the position Robby is in and realize the hand they had in it! AND FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY FIX WHAT THEY BROKE INSTEAD OF MOVING ON OR PRETENDING ITS NOT THERE!

I’m not saying Miguel or Sam or Johnny or Daniel are bad or villains. I love them all to the moon and back! but I am saying that if people are going to hate on Robby then they should also consider the not so chivalrous and good nature of the other characters and also consider why he’s like that. I’m not saying no one can hate him and there’s not only one way to think about it. I’m just sharing my opinion, it’s not right or wrong it’s just there.

I know that Terry Silver is going to do EXACTLY what he did to Daniel if not worse! And it’s going to be DEVASTATING to watch! I just hope and pray and wish and dream that someone ANYONE is there to catch him when it all comes crashing down the Terry Silver and John Kreese way! Because Robby doesn’t have a Mr Miyagi and he needs a Mr Miyagi right about now!

Thank you for listening to my Ted talk and I hope you have a wonderful day!

"I don't think anyone can grow unless he's loved exactly as he is now, appreciated for what he is rather than what he will be."

— Fred Rogers

[riversofmars]

Prompt: 13 and River babysit Anthony Williams (Amy and Rory’s adopted son)

This is such a cute prompt! I combined it with a similar one and hope this works for you, enjoy! <3

Rating: G

Word Count: 1800

Read on AO3 or below

All in the Family

“And you’re sure you’re up for this?“ Amy turned to River one more time, halfway out of the door of their flat in 1940s New York.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?“ River crossed her arms in front of her chest challengingly.

“You’re not exactly the most responsible adult.“ Rory couldn’t help pointing out and glanced to his wife to find out whether they were going to change their minds at the last minute.

“I'll take that as a compliment.“ River smirked. “Remember this was your idea.“

“Yes but only because we don’t know many people here yet!“ Rory admitted.

“And having your baby stolen once, you don’t want to trust strangers, I get it.“ River gave her parents a kind smile. She was very happy for them. They deserved to have the calm family life that they had missed out on with her. Adopting baby Anthony had been a wonderful idea.

“It’s just been such a long time since we’ve been able to go out.“ Amy explained. “I just didn’t understand how hard raising a child would be!“ She sighed, running her hand through her hair. She was more exhausted than she ever had been while travelling with the Doctor. “We just really need to have an evening just for us.“

“Say no more and get yourself going before I change my mind.“ River ushered them out the door.

“You are a godsend, River.“ Amy kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Don’t get up to anything stupid.“ She wagged her finger at her.

“What, me? Stupid? Perish the thought.“ River feigned hurt but laughed.

“Just make sure Anthony is okay.“ Amy implored her and gave a little wave to the toddler that was just coming up behind River and wrapping his arms around her leg.

“You can count on me. We’ll have a brilliant time, won’t we, brother dearest?“ River smiled down at the child and patted his head.

“Ri-ver.“ The toddler nuzzled into her thigh.

“See, fast friends already.“ River chuckled and lifted him up.

“Does she… do you know anything about toddlers?“ Rory asked, insecure for a moment.

“I am married to the Doctor, does that count?“ River countered and the Ponds laughed:

“Fair point…“

“Relax, we will be fine, it’s just for a few hours.“ River kissed the forehead of her adoptive brother who was giving her a koala bear hug. “Tea, books, bed. I got this.“

“See you both later, look after each other.“ Amy smiled and kissed Anthony’s head, as did Rory.

“This is a bad idea…“ Rory hummed to his wife as they waved their goodbyes and made their way down the corridor.

“It’s a brilliant idea.“ Amy waved off his concerns.

“Right Anthony, there is someone I would like you to meet.“ River smiled at her little brother as she closed the door.

“Meet?“ Anthony echoed as River carried him back into the living room.

“Someone very special: Your brother-in-law. Well, I say brother… sister-in-law? Alien-in-law?“ River grinned,and as if on cue the TARDIS became visible in the lounge.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me see them!“ The Doctor stuck her head out, having waited patiently for the Ponds to depart.

“Because they never would have left and they could do with a break.“ River explained with a chuckle as her wife skipped out of the TARDIS and towards them.

“Hello Anthony Pond!“ She grinned, ruffling the toddler’s curls who just giggled in response. He appeared fascinated by the sudden appearance of the blue box and pulled away from River, seemingly wanting to be set down.

“Williams…“ River corrected the Doctor as she sat her brother down who rushed to the TARDIS, circling around it in wonder.

“What shall we play with, Anthony?“ The Doctor ignored her wife and dropped to her knees in the middle of a pile of toys. “See, we’re gonna have the best time!“ She pulled her screwdriver from her coat and sonic-ed the toys. All of a sudden, cars and toy robots started moving on their own accord. Anthony giggled in delight and rushed over to the Doctor, the TARDIS no longer the most interesting thing around here.

“Guess that means I’m making tea?“ River chuckled as Anthony threw himself at the Doctor.

“Would you want either one of us close to a hob?“ The Doctor retorted, hugging the child tightly.

“Fair point.“ River chuckled.

——

“I don’t know why I asked you here, it’s like babysitting two toddlers.“ River was cleaning up the kitchen after tea had turned into a food fight.

“'Cause this is the closest thing you and I have to a family.“ The Doctor answered with surprising candour. Anthony was jawing, leaning against her.

“As much as I try to, I don’t really feel like part of them…“ River answered thoughtfully.

“Our lives are more complicated than that…“ The Doctor couldn’t help but agree. Neither one of them was suited to regular family dynamics.

“Would it be so bad though? Settling down for a time?“ River mused, looking from Anthony to her wife.

“Maybe at some point.“ The Doctor gave her a soft smile. This River hadn’t done Darillium yet. She had all of that to come and the Doctor missed their time there more than she would care to admit.

“Bed time?“ She asked, seeing as Anthony was virtually falling asleep next to her.

“I think so.“ River agreed with a smile and walked over to them. “Come here Anthony…“ She scooped him up. “Let’s get you into your PJs…“

Both the Doctor and River had presumed bedtime would be easy, considering how tired Anthony was, but they had thought wrong.

“Stop turning the light on and off!“ River pleaded, picking him up again to finally put him in his bed. Anthony appeared to have saved up his energy just for this.

“Still want kids?“ The Doctor tried her best to keep a straight face as she watched her wife struggle with the toddler.

“You know all of a sudden, being a big sister seems perfectly adequate.“ River retorted.

“I’ll get him a bottle of milk.“ The Doctor suggested, just as Anthony got up again and raced past River to the light switch.

“Stop it with the light switch!“ River groaned and scooped him up again. “Please, will you just stay in bed now?“ She tugged him in.

“Well well well, isn’t this a lovely sight.“ A voice sounded from the doorway that made River’s blood run cold. She whipped around, standing protectively in front of the bed.

“Madame Kovarian, how did you…“ She stared at the woman in the doorway.

“I knew I would find you eventually.“ Madame Kovarian smirked, walking further into the room. “And who is this little man? Tell me, am I a grandmother?“

“How dare you show your face here!“ River growled, regretting immediately that she left her gun in the TARDIS. She hadn’t anticipated needing it for babysitting duties.

“I believe you and I have some unfinished business.“ Kovarian retorted. “How is motherhood treating you, Melody? Where is the husband? Leaving you to do all the child care?“

“Right behind you!“ The Doctor called from the doorway, armed with nothing but a bottle of milk. She quickly accessed the situation in front of her, glaring at the unwelcome guest.

“Oh well, not your child then, is it?“ Kovarian retorted with a cruel smirk. “Now then, I think it’s time for some good old fashioned revenge…“ She pulled a gun on them.

Suddenly the light flicked off! Anthony had snuck out from behind River and gone for his favourite game again. River jumped at the opportunity. She flung herself at Kovarian and disarmed her quickly. The moment the light came back on, Kovarian was on the floor and River held her gun to her head.

“Never underestimate a Pond!“ The Doctor grinned and scooped up the child into a tight hug.

“You little monster!“ Kovarian spat.

“If anyone is a monster here, Madame Kovarian, it’s you.“ River retorted icily.

--

“Surprisingly quiet in here… maybe River managed to get him to sleep alright after all…“ Rory mused as he opened the door to the flat and they walked inside. It had been a lovely evening, just what they needed.

“What the…“ Amy stopped dead in her tracks as they stepped into the living room.

“Amelia Pond! And Rory the Roman!“ The Doctor exclaimed and ran towards them, pulling them into bone crushing hugs.

“River?!“ Amy exclaimed, needing an explanation. Who was this woman? What was she doing in their flat? Why did she know who they were? And why was Madame Kovarian tied to a chair in the middle of their lounge?!

“What can I say… Mum, Dad… when my husband regenerated into a hot blonde I started batting for the other team, hope that’s alright with you.“ River answered, gesturing to the Doctor who grinned widely, barely able to contain her excitement.

“What?!“ Amy and Rory exclaimed in unison.

“She didn’t want to tell you I was here cause she thought you’d be worried we’d set the place on fire…“ River explained a little bit more apologetically.

“Instead you have a tied up Madame Kovarian in our living room?!“ Amy gestured to the unwelcome guest.

“Ouch!“ Kovarian groaned when Anthony chucked a building block at her.

“Good shot, mate!“ The Doctor grinned and gave him a high five. Of course, Anthony had refused to go to bed after the excitement.

“Sorry, just got to finish building this transdimensional teleport. Teaching Anthony the basics of temporal engineering as we go. One way trip to Stormcage.“ River explained, gesturing to a circle of electrical components that had been erected around Kovarian. Long cables connected it to the TARDIS. “Unless I get the coordinates wrong… might end up in a sun instead…“ She mused.

“Melody, don’t do it, I…“ Kovarian pleaded.

“You have threatened my family for the last time. This is goodbye, Madame Kovarian, for the last time.“ River finished attaching the cables.

“Good riddance!“ Rory mumbled in agreement.

“Anthony!“ Amy called when the toddler skipped forward and hit a big red button on the contraption. Something no child would be able to resist. Kovarian disappeared in a flash of light!

“Was the teleport even calibrated?!“ The Doctor looked to River who gave a little shrug.

“I’ll check up on her when I’m in Stormcage next… she may have ended up in the cantina rather than an actual cell… but never mind.“ She looked to her parents. “So, how was your date?“

“Certainly less eventful than this.“ Amy shook her head in disbelief.

“Come on, mate, let’s get you to bed.“ The Doctor scooped Anthony up who nuzzled into her neck.

“Doc-tor.“

[dinner-djarin]

Next To You (Bucky x reader)

Just a little one shot I wrote after watching FATWS on repeat. (I tried to make it gender neutral but I may have missed something so I'm sorry if it's not!)

Rating: Mature

No use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Bucky is having nightmares, and you're there to comfort him. Based on the Julia Michaels song If You Need Me. (so if the ending sounds dumb go listen to the song you'll understand why lol)

Warnings: Fluff & angst I guess idk, kinda dark themes, because well it's Bucky. Just two people who have definitely been through some shit. Oh ya that reminds me swearing. Suggested that intercourse has happened but nothing descriptive. A little (a lot) about trauma but mostly about nightmares. If I missed something pls lemme know, I don't want anyone to feel triggered reading. But if you can watch the show and be fine, you'll probably be okay with this.

Also just letting you know if I put ~ its cause I switch the focus from Bucky to reader, but I'm not switching POV completely its all written in reader POV.

Every night brought pieces of the past. He never knew which memory would be dragged to the surface once he let his subconscious take over - clawing and scrapping against the walls he put up, begging to be let out; to be confronted.

Some nights were worse than others of course.

He wasn’t sure how he was ever going to out run the monsters of his past. For a while he just stopped sleeping. It may not have been a permanent fix, but he thought some relief was better than none at all. He used to go days, even weeks, without sleep during the war, so he figured it might be the best way to silence the past.

Dr. Raynor, however, caught on quick.

A lot of her methods seemed like bullshit to Bucky. He could tell she was genuinely trying to help him, but he doubted anything she had anything to offer him that would prove to be effective.

But at the end of the day she was definitely no fool. He had a tough time lying to her. She didn’t take anyone's crap, and that might have been the only reason he trusted her, even a little. It may have been the only reason he actually gave it a sincere try (besides the fact he’d be arrested if he didn’t).

So he probably shouldn’t have been surprised when she caught on to his sleep strike. In fact she called him out on it only three days in. He thought he’d get longer than that. Even so, he was almost relieved. After only 72 hours he already felt the nightmares slowly creeping into the day. Every time a door slammed or a car horn blared his body tensed. Every time he turned a corner he’d reach for a knife he no longer carried. So maybe it was better to let his past haunt his nightmares. That way he’d be alone when the memories took over. That way he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

But he made a mistake. He did what he told himself he could never do. He let you get too close.

Falling asleep in your arms felt better than any therapy session he could ever imagine. It was the first time in forever he could remember what it was like to be his younger self. The version of him that marvelled at the idea of flying cars; who thought he could save the world by enlisting. The dreamy eyed boy who was hopeful for the future, who thought he had a future.

Lying next to you made him feel in control, like his problems didn’t matter. He was there to keep you safe, and warm, and comfortable. He never thought he’d feel like that with anyone. He didn’t think he was allowed.

You didn’t question his metal arm for starters. When Bucky took off his jacket, after the hundredth time you insisted - “It’s like 100 degrees in here Bucky, please take it off, you’re gonna melt” - he thought he’d instantly regret it. But you simply looked at it with wonder for only a moment, before returning your eyes up to his own. Staring back at you, he saw the wheels in your brain click into place. He could almost hear your thoughts as you decided what your next move would be.

In the blink of his eyes you tore your shirt off and stood completely still in front of him. For a moment his emotions were mixed, and he worried where your sudden advancement came from, but then he saw it. A thick white mark slashed across your torso.

You took only one step forward before speaking. “It’s not exactly… I know it’s not the same thing at all. But the scars - the marks we carry - they’ll be with us forever, whether we like it or not. Even if they remind us of the worst pieces of ourselves, or the worst moments of our lives, it reminds us that we can move forward. And it reminds me that there’s something to move forward to. I don’t know…it doesn’t really make any sense but somehow it’s almost comforting.  To know that something will always be with us, till the end”

His mouth was on yours in an instant.

He had been hesitant to let anyone in. After coming back - after going through everything he’d been through - he felt like damaged goods. He worried that the minute he let himself be happy, everything would come crashing down again, and he had good reason to believe it. It just kept happening over and over. It seemed like every time he found even a small amount of peace, the battle made its way back to him.

But when he found you, when he felt you, he felt peace. The softness of your skin, the gentle wave of your hair, the light scrape of your fingernails against his back and chest, your quiet moans muffled by his own mouth on yours. Being with you made the horrors of his past melt away. Even when you clamped down around him and bit into his shoulder muscle, even when he knew you’d left marks all over his skin. Knowing they came from you made all the difference. They didn���t remind him of the wars he fought, or lives he took, or the atrocities he committed. The sting of your nails and teeth weren’t pains from his past, they were reminders of his present, of the possibility of a life he could have. With you.

But in the end he knew that it was all wishful thinking. He knew he wasn’t cut out for that type of future. He knew you deserved better.

So he decided to let you off easy, to disappear from your life, leaving your shared experience to the confines of your bedroom. A memory, nothing more. He knew he’d have to sneak away once you fell asleep, because that way it might not feel real. Everything that happened between you might disappear with him.

But then he fucked up.

He was waiting for your breath to even out, a sign he would take to mean you had fallen asleep, but after listening to the air rush out of your body, and watching your bare chest rise and fall, your hypnotic essence overpowered his will, and he fell asleep alongside you.

Only he wasn’t asleep for long.

Eventually the past caught up, as it always had a way of doing. Images, and sounds, and smells all came flooding back to his uninhibited brain - sleep made him an easy target. He was vulnerable to every torment he caused, and every mission he was forced to carry out. Tonight was no exception. His brain managed to sift through every wall he thought he had up, and trudge yet another painful memory to the surface. The image of himself taking life after life, cruelly and viciously. There was no remorse, no stopping him. He saw every crime lord and politician he was made to terminate. Until his brain moved away to a new idea. The image of a young woman. Innocent and pure. But in the way of his mission. The Winter Soldier spared none.

He woke up in a blind panic. His surroundings were unfamiliar. Something was wrong. Was he being held captive or-

~

“Hey,” you made yourself known to him, and he twisted his head back to see you sit up beside him. You were quiet, and a worried expression blanketed your face.

Is he angry, you thought for a moment? No. Your brain was tired, and it was slow to process. Not angry, scared.

You knew from the minute you saw his arm that there was more going on. You already had some suspicions, nevertheless you expected there to be something like this.

For a moment, the two of you stared at each other in silence. You watched him regain his breath, and you carefully shifted your legs to sit crossed underneath you.

His steel blue eyes cut through the darkness, pinning you down. You wondered what was going on in his mind, what he might be doing to regain his grip on reality. You knew this moment too well. The quiet. The darkness. The fear. Not sure of how to move forward.

You were scared too, but not of him - more like you were scared for him. You knew he must be going through something, and you wanted to be there to help, but you also knew that was easier said than done. “Being there to help” was a nice concept, but in reality - well things were generally more complicated. You didn’t know if it’d be alright to approach him, mainly because you were unsure of your role in all this. Were you really someone he wanted around when he was so obviously vulnerable? You’d never seen him so raw and exposed, like a wound you wished you could tend to, while also fearing that your interference could make things worse.

You knew he wasn’t going to ask for your help, you could see he wasn’t that kind of man, but maybe if you made the first step, and let him choose - maybe he’d let you in. So, you held out your hand and waited. After a moment, you saw him move, only slightly though. His eyes darted down towards your hand and he subtly lifted his fingers off the bed. But it only lasted a second. He froze again, hand hovering near yours, and that’s when you realized he had been reaching for you with his left hand. You had been wary to touch it before, you thought it was probably a sensitive subject. Something about the idea of touching his metal arm seemed more personal, if that was possible. Like only the most trusted people in his life might be allowed to… and maybe not even then.

You felt your own eyes drop to your lap, an almost nervous energy now emanating in the space between you. But just before you could drop your hand too, his fingers hesitantly entwine with yours.

You shot your eyes up to see his right hand grazing the palm of your left. As your gaze slowly elevated, you found your way to meet his own eyes, only to notice the very sudden change in them. Whatever fear or darkness hid their before had now melted away. You couldn’t place it, but whatever emotion he now held sent a chill from your core to your fingertips. A lump in your throat formed and for a moment, you thought you might never be able to breath again. The look in his eyes was almost soft, but with a hint of yearning. Fire was blazing through every nerve in your body, while a chill kissed your skin, making every hair stand on edge.

Feeling outrageously brave, you took your free hand up to his jaw and held him there, gently swiping your thumb over his cheek, and allowing your fingers to reach slightly past his hairline and to the back of his neck. You wondered if he could feel the raging storm of your emotions through your touch.

“You okay?” you managed to whisper to him.

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before” his answer pierced your ears with a hard tone, refusing to let any vulnerability resonate in his voice.

You shake your head at him, wishing he wouldn’t play pretend. “Okay then,” you mumble, letting your hand drop from his face. But as it fell, Bucky was quick to grab it, and hold it with a gentle squeeze. When you looked at him again, you knew he meant it as a reassurance, trying to tell you that he was okay.

~

He couldn’t handle the way you looked at him. Like you could see every thought in his head. A knowing gleam in your eyes told him that you didn’t believe him, and you’d be right not to. He wasn’t okay. He never really was. There was so much darkness surrounding him, poisoning every inch of his life. But you. Your touch was gentle and your voice was kind, and even though he had just seen your scar, he couldn’t help but think your world must have been so much brighter than his own. Looking in your eyes, he almost wished he’d never met you. He was so afraid that his pain might infect you too, the only good thing he had left. He wouldn’t ever be able to forgive himself if he let that happen; if he let his past ruin your future.

He wanted to leave, he needed to get out, before any of that could happen.

He slid off the bed quickly, and made his way to grab his clothes, but before he could you grabbed his hand - his left hand.

“Please Bucky don’t.” was all you could say. But the way your voice broke, on the verge of tears, fear of being rejected, of being left alone in the dark by the only man you ever wanted to let in - it was enough to stop his heart. He stood there, frozen from your touch. You kept his hand in yours, and for a second you worried it was too much. You worried you betrayed whatever trust you had built with him. Just holding his bare metal hand felt more violating and revealing than the fact that both of you remained completely naked. But you didn’t want to pull away. You didn’t want him to think you were afraid of him, afraid of the fact his hand could pulverize yours in a second - because you weren’t. You’d felt his touch. You knew how gentle and caring he could be. And you wanted him to see it too. That he wasn’t defined by his worst fears.

You pulled your body towards him, kneeling at the edge and facing him, “You don’t have to leave.” you spoke softly, as if he might be spooked and run off if you were any louder. “You don’t have to push everyone away. Please don’t push me away… I-”

Before you could finish, he was crashing into you. His tongue invading your mouth, like he was trying to soak up your unsaid words. His hands held your waist in place against his, steady and strong, but there was still resistance in his fingers; a hesitance to use too much force with you. You could feel how he feared he might hurt you.

Slowly you leaned back, feathering your fingers over his shoulders to guide him with you, and when he hovered over you, you let them slide into his hair, grabbing what you could and leading his head down…

~~~~

You lay there in the dark with your head on his chest, listening to his steady heart, feeling the crisp sting of metal graze your back. And even though you knew it was ridiculous, all you could think about was how you wanted to keep him safe. The man was stronger than any other human being, and probably thought you were fragile and helpless, and needed his protection more than anything. But still, you wanted him to be okay. You wanted him to know he could be safe.

“I’ll fight them for you.” you whimper quietly, suddenly worried that Bucky may have already fallen back to sleep.

“Huh? Who- what do you mean?” his words stuttered and tripped over his tongue. His half sleeping brain was suddenly running a mile a minute trying to decipher your statement. Who were you fighting? Why would you need to fight them for him? Surely he was more capable of fighting anyone off. He should be protecting you-

“The monsters” you said a little louder. The words feel childish and awkward in your mouth, and once you said them, you wished to take them back. But you decided to push forward, “if you want me to… if you need me… I’m here”