#scary is a clothes thief i believe it

[ithinkdogshouldvote]

Rouge-like tendencies, courtesy of grandpa

[aluckiicoin]

& (ooc. for the scar meme)

Send me “&” for my muses reaction to yours tracing one of their scars.

Whoever came up with the idea to walk the remaining distance toward home instead of driving really had a brilliant idea there. It had started pouring just a few moments later, reminding the gambler as to why his mood had already been struggling the whole day.

Of course it would happen, without fail even when – never mind. The rain had only unsettled him further and that was after he had excused himself from a party earlier than he should have, dragging his companion off without much explanation after catching a whiff of a certain conversation he would most certainly not repeat.

Well, good news: they were home now but Aventurine had ended up completely drenched. His gloves were supposed to be a comfort but like this they reminded him way too much of a different sensation. He'd already tried to get rid of one of them frantically, the thief at his side all but forgotten momentarily. Sure, all of that were just little inconsequential little things but they just kept stacking up to the point that the blonde was shivering. He could blame that on the cold and being wet to the bones once his mind decided to work again. Yet when he tried to tug his arm back to get the other glove off he was met with resistance.

Aventurine startled, eyes snatching to what was going on only to find another hand wrapped around his wrist, a finger running along what makeup and bracelet had hidden before.

Oh, great. Apparently, if he wasn't lucky the whole universe seemed to take the chance to take a hit at him. He could pull his arm away from the grasp, the other's grip certainly wasn't too secure but gazing upwards came with a realization. The conman looked... worried, deeply so.

The surprise took Aventurine right out the mounting panic. It seemed uncharacteristic, mostly because people didn't worry about him. Or when they did, they were somehow too repressed to show it. The sensation of that thumb running over the marks send another kind of shivers down his spine he wasn't quite sure how to feel about. It took another few seconds for the expression and the fixation to click. Oh. Hm, he should probably say something.

His dear rat didn't have access to IPC files like other people did, he likely only knew the barest bit the blonde had been willing to give away. It wasn't due to lack of trying however, the thief was somewhat relentless in his questions. He was curiously silent now. It just made the situation so much more endearing, scary, unusual. Fingers moved up to scratch at the mark on his neck in remembrance, he still wasn't over being reminded of that after all. But, ah, how could he even put it believable, saying 'it's not what it looks like' wouldn't do. He shifted, a new kind of nervousness settling into his bones.

“Not pretty to look at, are they?”, they've been there for ages and he'd love to tell the lie that he had forgotten about the scars his shackles left. No, that wasn't exactly true. The restraints didn't leave the scars, his actions did. If he hadn't kept tugging and tearing he'd be as unblemished as he portrayed to the world outwardly.

“Rigid metal is not supposed to be worn on bare skin. Even more so if it's cheap. Especially not if it's worn tightly.”, loosing weight only made it worse because then they started to move, causing even more damage.

“Why would I ever damage something I intent to sell, hm?”, it was the best reassurance he could summon. He couldn't even be sure the other was under any misconception to begin with or just worried because he had some other ulterior motive.

At any rate, it was time to deflect “I'll need my hand back to get rid of the wet clothes. You should do the same.”

[unluckiefriday]

The Assumptions The World Makes

It’s interesting how everything else seems to get darker as you stare at the light, like everything else can never compare to that light.  This was my only thought as I lay on the cold ground staring at the ceiling.  My face stung but that was expected since I just got punched by a superhero.  That flying bastard hit me pretty hard.  I just wanted to lay on the floor and give up.  Society expected me to do this yet they hated me for it.  You can only imagine how confusing it is for a kid to be told that they are a villain before they have even done anything.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” June sighed as she pulled out the first aid kit.  “You’d think you’d use your invisibility to run away from a fight but no.”  She stopped and stared at me with a sad look on her face.  She was incredibly compelling for a girl who was only 4’ 8”.  She held her head high and that made everyone feel she was far taller than she really was.  I had the exact opposite effect.

“Name as many superheroes with invisibility as you can,” I asked her, still staring at the ceiling.  I counted the dots, making sure every single one was noticed, none left out just because they were hard to see.

“Sue Storm,” she said easily, obviously proud of herself.

“Now name as many superheroes with flight as you can,” I continued lamely.

“Superman, Ironman, Captain Marvel, Green Lantern, Shazam, Storm…” she trailed off.  “I get the point.” she said quietly in defeat.

“Even Invisible Woman has more powers than just invisibility,” I groaned.  “Everyone expects me to be like Gollum with the one ring or something.”  I threw my hands up in exasperation and let them fall back down to the floor with a loud thunk. Some people have that feeling that they are invisible, that nobody notices or cares to notice.  They feel as if they disappear into the crowd.  I do. 

“You’ve never listened to society before, why are you now?” June asked, confused.

“They already fear me.  Everyone’s already heard of me before I’ve even done everything.  I can’t walk into a bank without people thinking I’m gonna steal something and only you and Dad let me into your houses.  Everyone thinks I’m a thief because of my power.  There is nothing I can do to change that.  People have made up their minds based on one thing they saw and there is nothing I can do to make them think otherwise.”  

“Maybe you’re just lost right now,” June suggested quietly, gently pressing a cold rag against my black eye, bringing a bit of relief..

“Lost implies I had a destination.”  We sat in silence for a little bit before I decided it was best for me to leave.  I left without a word knowing that June understood.  She stared at the floor, not looking up as I closed the door behind me.  Some things were best left unsaid and some things were best left unseen.  I was still in the same clothes from the fight so I opted to go undetected on my way home.  I’m not sure how people would react if they heard the mean and scary Phantom lived at home with his wheelchair bound father.  Would they feel guilty or would they assume the invisible man has something planned?

I waited to turn visible until I closed the front door.  I sighed as I turned the lock from the inside.

“Kennedy, is that you?” my father’s voice called out, he voice was weak.

“Yep,” I answered.  “Why didn’t you lock the door?” I called out, exhausted.

“Why should I?” he chuckled, coughing a bit as he rolled around the corner.

“Because it’s dangerous,” I said like it was obvious because it was to me.  He laughed and I stared at him in confusion.  “There are evil people in the world,” I elaborated.

“I don’t believe in evil,” he said plainly, giving me a dismissive wave.  He turned his chair around and wheeled himself into the kitchen.

“You realize you’re saying that to a supervillain, right?” I asked rhetorically.  Dad stopped, spun his chair around, and stared at me seriously.

“Come here,” he said quietly, pointing to the ground in front of him.  I knelt down in front of him and he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.  “You, my son, are not a villain.  You never have and never will be.  You are going through a hard time and have made some bad decisions but that does not make you evil.  This ability that you have does not define you.”  He placed his hand over my heart and I placed my hand over his.  “The heart does not beat in a body of evil,” he said quietly and I didn’t question him.  “Listen,” he whispered.  I listened closely.  He pulled his hand out from under mine and placed my own hand over my heart.  I could feel it beat as I breathed deeply.  “Evil does not exist in your heart, no matter how hard you try or how much you think it should.  You are the Invisible Man but that does not make an evil man.”

“What if the Invisible Man was evil?”  I asked quietly, biting my lip. 

“I don’t think he was.” he answered just as quietly.

“He hurt people, he stole stuff,” I cried, not just talking about the character anymore.

“He didn’t choose to be evil, it was expected of him by ignorant people just as ignorant people expect it of you.”  I looked up at my father.  “When I was young, my father was a drunk and didn’t care for his children.  He ended up leaving and everyone expected me to do the same when we found out your mother was pregnant with you.  They expected me to abandon you but your mother knew better.  She gave you my name as your middle name because she believed in me.  She gave you my last name because she knew I would want you in my life more than anything.  I ignored all what everyone expected of me and did what I felt was right. Now it is time for you to do the same.”  He sat back in his wheelchair and looked at me proudly.  “Kennedy Bobby Murray, I will always love you.”

Tears ran down my cheeks as I hugged my elderly father.  He hugged me tightly back and I could feel the tears running down his face as well. 

✳     ✳     ✳

  My name is Lee Santiago and I am the Phoenix.  I’m supposed to be a superhero, you know, a person in a stupid custom that flies around saving the day.  You might be confused why I said supposed to.  I am a superhero, but it wasn’t really my choice.  I made the mistake of revealing my power of flight to the wrong person and now everyone expects me to save the day.  I didn’t have the best upbringing and now I have the pressure of saving the world on my shoulders.  Everyone expects the superhero to be a joyful extrovert not a self-conscious introvert.  I’m temperamental at best.  I actually saw a study recently that the number of introverts that picked flight or invisibility was actually relatively equal along with the choice of extroverts.  Not that I was searching for it or anything.  I guess that just goes to show one choice can’t really tell you anything about someone.

As I was thinking this, I was sitting in my girlfriend’s apartment. Ruby gently wrapped my bruised and battered knuckles.  I winced everytime she pulled them a smidge too tight.  I brushed a strand of red hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.  My own curly, black hair was tied back into a short ponytail to keep it out of my face.  She knew how I felt and knew very well that I never wanted to be a superhero.  She was the only person who understood how I felt and that itself was a comfort.  

“You know,” Ruby spoke, trying to make small talk.  “I read an email today in a scientific magazine about personality.”

“Really?” I chuckled slightly.  “What it’d say?” I asked, half paying attention and half zoning out while staring at the wall.

“Talking about how personality was an abstract concept and how there is no universal definition of good or evil,” she said nonchalantly as if she hadn’t taken notes about the whole thing and perfected her speech for five minutes before bringing it up.  

“You’re trying to convince me to stop being the Phoenix, aren’t you?” I gave her a knowing look.  I wasn’t upset and I actually hoped she had a good reason to stop.  As much as I wanted to please society, I was ready to stop.  I was ready to get rid of every single electronic I own just so I wouldn’t hear anyone talking about where I had gone or when I was going to be back.

“Being a superhero isn’t the only way to be a good person.  There are plenty of other ways to save a life by doing something you actually want to do.  You’re trying to shape your personality around your power and society and it’s breaking you.  You’re focusing so much on what society wants that you’re forgetting what you want.”  She laid her hand gently on my face.  “I love you, not the Phoenix.”

“I know,” I whispered, laying my head on her tiny shoulder.  “I feel like I’m stuck in a loop.  Everytime I try to get out someone starts crying about how I abandoned them.  I can’t live with that guilt.”

“What if you didn’t have to?” Ruby asked quietly.  It was obvious she had an idea.

“What are you suggesting?” I asked, a little suspicious.

“What if you weren’t there to protect them anymore, what if everyone knew you weren’t gonna come back, what if,” she paused.  “What if everyone thought you were dead?”.

[c4tn1p-ars3nic]

tell me about vaelox and fabbri pls pls pls !!!

This got a bittt long!! So first paragraph then the rest under the cut!

They're as close to adopted siblings as you can get, troll-wise. Vaelox prefers to say that it "pities Fabbri enough to let him stay", but it didn't call them "Junior" a bit for nothing! And it's been like, what, half a sweep?? If Vaelox didn't like them, it could've reported him or killed him by now.

Depending on the iteration, Fabbri doesn't have a lusus because he's a limeblood. He generally doesn't have anywhere to stay, so he hops from place to place "borrowing" things. He's taught himself self-reliance and ways to defuse situations.

So you've got this particularly small, 4 sweep-old thief in the home of a 6 sweep purpleblood who knows that its going to start killing trolls for a job. Or hobby or whatever, purplebloods are particularly unique and I haven't quite gotten there yet. Scary!

But Vaelox is just very tired all the time. It hasn't been able to sleep well for a while and it doesn't do well with crowds and loud noises. It has a smaller hobby of carving wooden figures, so it prefers to be left alone and is annoyed to find someone in its home. Fabbri, in his infinite 8 year-old wisdom of situation deescalating, offers to do chores in exchange for sleeping on the floor or at least staying alive. Vae is just kind of like whatever, it'll deal with them later in the morning. And then doesn't.

So Fabbri hangs around in the relatively safe area, hiding his blood color and just calling himself an oliveblood. He and Vaelox both happen to share an interest in wolves and cats, so he is slightly less annoying. Vaelox still thinks that he asks too many questions for his own good.

So, with Vae's hobby of woodcarving, its hive is full of a LOT of sharp tools that's bad to be around if you were a troll who happened to wish to hide his blood color. The inevitable happens and Vae realizes that it can't just send Fabbri off when he's old enough or whatever, and decides to make his residency permanent. It'll figure out a way to explain that, somehow. Right now it settles with "pity".

In this arrangement, Vaelox takes a number of measures to try to protect Fabbri. While it may not have liked his presence as a stranger before, he's a friend now, and your friends have got to be protected. Vae forbids Fabbri to chat online until he's 6 sweeps old, but he has the tendency to use Vaelox's accounts anyway. As long as he doesn't do anything to get himself killed, it's fine. When he gets accounts, he's only allowed to type in either grey or purple. Vae prefers he types in purple, because it believes that typing in grey can make others suspicious of you. In the early days, Vae gives Fabbri some of its clothes to wear. It has since gotten thing with the purple equivalent of his sign. It's insistent that he calls himself Capripio, and insists that others heard him wrong if he ever refers to himself as anything else. Vae helps him put on makeup when they go out.

When it comes to Fabbri helping Vaelox with its sleeping habits, there's just something about him. A light of its life, if you may. He's relatively stable on the outside, but it's not clear why he's able to decrease the chances of experiencing nightmares. They don't seem aware of it either. Vae chalks it up to him being too cute in a puppy way to make it want to kill anyone.

[dragondemoness]

Hi it me the bunny anon after you made my request about phantom thieves x with the cute reader can you do a version where y/n have a palace but different because they palace was made by the grief and sorrow and how much y/n misses they grandma they palace it totally opposite of they style it a huge scary abandoned mansion full of everything that is scary and terrifying y/n shadow self it then where are a child with they plushie with them they enter the mansion to find they grandma headcanons

Finally, I was able to get to this one!

So, I did the boys and girls separately. This part includes the boys, and I'll make a separate post about the girls.

So sorry this took so long, Bunny Anon!

Ultimate Cuteness Reader - Phantom Thieves Edition (alternate) (The Boys)

Akira Kurusu/Joker

He never once thought that you might have a palace

You always seemed too sweet to have one

He was quickly proven wrong when he saw that you left your bunny plush in a classroom

The plush started glowing red and vibrating

Next thing he knew, he was in his Phantom Thief attire, in a dark mansion

Was this... a palace?

The Meta-Nav never detected it

It was unlike anything he had ever seen

And he noticed that the bunny plush was gone

It was your palace?

He didn't want to believe it

It was so unlike you

But he wouldn't know unless he explored, so he did, despite his anxiety

Compared to the other palaces he's infiltrated, this one was absolutely horrifying

The cognition, the designs, even the shadows

Joker was afraid to even go near the shadows

He noticed the shadows were all wearing bunny masks as well

The dark walls of the palaces were lined with paintings

Paintings of you, your bunny plush, and an elderly woman

Except for a large, empty frame 

He got up close to one of the paintings, and he accidentally fell into it

He saw the events of the painting unfold before him

It was the day your grandmother gave the bunny plush to you when you were a child

So it really was your palace

But your palace didn't seem malicious at all

Just filled with grief and sorrow

He explored the rest of your memories, up until he made it to the empty frame

He touched it, and suddenly, he found himself in a large room

Joker fell through the frame and hard onto the ground. After taking a moment to collect himself, he stood up and looked around. 

He found himself outside, in a large backyard with flowers everywhere.

He looked ahead of him, and his heart stopped.

He saw you, as a child. You were holding your plush in your arms, you wore small, cute clothes, and your once bright, beautiful eyes were now a glowing yellow. You stared at him with no expression.

Was this... your shadow?

"(N-Name)?" He found himself at a loss for words. "Why do you have a palace?"

"I'm looking for her."

He opened his mouth to ask who you were talking about, but he noticed you staring. 

He followed your gaze, and saw you staring at the other side of the empty frame. 

There was a picture of you and your grandma, dancing together in her flower garden while the bunny plush sat on a rocking chair in the background.

The flower garden looked exactly like where he was right now.

Then he figured it out. Your palace didn't spawn from a place of maliciousness or arrogance, but from a place of grief and sadness. You had been at your worst recently, missing your grandmother more than ever, developing an obsession with seeing her again.

Before he could say anything, the palace began to rumble. And out of nowhere, a hole opened up in the ground. And what appeared was an incredibly tall elderly woman, but much more twisted. She had large, clawed hands and feet, long bunny ears sitting on her head, bright red eyes and a sharp-toothed grin.

So this was your palace's cognition of your grandma. Given how fondly you viewed her, Joker was confused.

But he took a breath in and put a hand on his knife. He was gonna have to fight your grandmother, and it wasn't gonna be easy.

Ryuji Sakamoto 

All he wanted to do was return your bunny plush

And he ended up getting caught up in this

The second he placed his hands on it, he ended up in a palace

Was it... yours?

He tries to deny it at first

There's no way you could have a palace!

But the memory paintings proved otherwise

The paintings of you, your grandmother, your bunny

As he roamed around, he felt more and more unsettled

The palace was so dark and scary

It wasn't like you at all

Even the shadows were creepy

They weren't patrolling the palace or anything

They were just standing around in groups, with rabbit masks on their faces

Ryuji cautiously walked up to one of them and struck them with his weapon

It didn't fight back or attack him

Just stared at him and groaned

Ryuji quickly walked away from it

He roamed around anxiously, trying to find your shadow

He just wanted to know why you had a palace in the first place

You were way too nice to have strong enough feelings of malice to spawn one

But as he was thinking, he fell through an empty picture frame and ended up in a flower garden

"(Name)? Why do you have a Palace?"

Ryuji stared in shock at what looked like your shadow. You stared back at him with wide, expressionless, yellow eyes.

"I'm not sure what you mean. This is her home."

Before he could ask what you meant, you pointed to something behind him. He followed your gaze and saw the painting behind him.

It was you, as a child, and your grandmother dancing together in a flower garden.

The flower garden he was in.

Ryuji stared at the painting, with no words to say. He finally realized the truth. Your Palace didn't spawn from feelings of malice or greed. It spawned from your feelings of grief.

You had been missing your grandmother more and more, and Ryuji felt stupid for not noticing. 

But he quickly looked away when he heard a rumbling from behind him. He turned, and a creepy, demented shadow suddenly sprang up from the ground. It looked like a strange hybrid of a rabbit and an elderly woman.

Wait... Was that your grandma?

So that was your cognition of her. But why? From the way you talked about her, she sounded like such a sweet person. So why would this be her cognition?

But now was no time to ask questions. Ryuji breathed in, and brought out his mace. He turned to you, looking to see what he would do. He felt a twinge of sadness in him.

He knew what he needed to do, and that it would hurt you. 

Yusuke Kitagawa 

He came to Shujin after school to visit you

He painted a new masterpiece and was excited to show you

But you weren't there

Instead, he found your bunny plush on a desk

He picked it up with a smile

"Well, well, what are you doing here by yourself? Where's (Name) run off to?"

The Bunny turned its head up to look at him, and it started to shake

Next thing he knew, he was in his Phantom Thief attire, and the rabbit had disappeared

To say he was shocked would be an understatement

Why did the rabbit bring him here? Where did the rabbit go?

Where the heck was he?

Given his costume and the cognition, Yusuke could only assume that this was a Palace

But it was different

It felt very dark and disturbing

He didn't even consider the idea that it was your Palace until he started to look around

He was distracted by the paintings on the walls

The paintings of you, an elderly woman, and your bunny

Suddenly, his blood turned to ice

This was your palace?!

Fear and anxiety took over as Yusuke took off in a run, desperately searching for your shadow

He needed to know why you had a palace

As he was running, he ran into the empty frame and fell into the flower garden

Yusuke stood up and took a look around. The garden was dark, the only light coming from the garden lights on the ground.

 He jumped when he saw your shadow, staring at him with wide, expressionless eyes. You held your bunny plush in your hands, with glowing eyes of its own.

"(Name)... What is this place?"

"This is her home."

As you said that, you turned your head and pointed to something behind him. Yusuke turned around and saw the painting he had fallen through.

It was a picture of you and your grandmother dancing in her flower garden, smiling and laughing. Yusuke could feel the pure joy from this picture, and it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

But this moment was cut short when he felt the ground shake. He turned back around to see a large, demented shadow spring up from the ground. 

Yusuke watched in shock as the shadow beast towered over him. 

Was this the Palace's cognition of your grandmother? But why?

Yusuke froze. This was somehow even more disturbing than the Palace as a whole. And the reason it even existed was because he was blind to your grief.

He shook his head. Now was no time to succumb to the guilt. You needed him.

Yusuke readied his katana for battle. He needed to help you accept your grandmother's death, even if it hurt you.

Bonus: Goro Akechi

He had just finished another murder commission for one of Shido's confidants

After exiting the Metaverse, your bunny plush was right there in front of him

He was startled, having no idea how it ended up there

He picked it up, eying it curiously

Then he ended up right back in the Metaverse 

And the rabbit had disappeared

This Palace was unlike any other Palace he had entered

The overall cognition was dark and horrifying 

And there was an underlying feeling of grief behind it

For once, he felt anxious

He took a close look at the pictures on the wall

He saw you as a child, your bunny plush, and an elderly woman

Wait, was this your Palace?!

Suddenly in a panic, Akechi broke into a run and started looking for you

Soon after, he fell through a large, empty frame on the wall

Akechi landed in a flower garden, in the dark mansion's backyard. The only light were the garden lights in the ground. The sky had no moon, and no stars.

Was there even a sky?

He jumped when he heard footsteps in the grass. His heart stopped when he saw your shadow, the shadow of your child self.

"(Name)?" He forced out. You stared at him, your yellow eyes wide and unblinking. 

"Why are you here?" He asked.

"I finally found her. She's alive."

"What?" 

You pointed to something behind him, and he turned to see a large picture, in place of the empty frame he fell through.

It was a picture of you and your grandmother dancing in the flower garden, laughing and smiling while the plush rabbit sat on a rocking chair in the background.

Then, Akechi understood. Your increasing grief for your grandmother turned into denial, and you found yourself unable to accept her death, even after years.

He looked at you with sadness. He should have been with you more. He should have been there to help you.

But his thoughts were cut off by the ground suddenly shaking, and out of nowhere, a shadow appeared.

It looked like a strange hybrid of a rabbit and an elderly woman.

This was your Palace's cognition of her?

Then he realized: it wasn't how you viewed your grandmother. This shadow represented your grief, and your denial.

Akechi breathed in and reluctantly took out his gun. He felt horrible for what he was about to do. He had done enough damage already.

But the grief was hurting you, and he needed you to accept the truth, even if it was painful for you.

[edwardisms]

it's not the most comforting thing to hear, that a member of the security team in this death trap of a mall is still working out the job, but edward tries to not let it scare him; if anything, he should feel appreciation for this person who is willing to put his life on the line for the sake of all of the mall goers and the mall employees. edward does feel the appreciation, though no matter how hard he tries, there's still a level of discomfort. he tries to brush it away, smiling in response, telling himself that he's surely competent when it matters - not that edward wishes to manifest a situation where the guard has to prove himself. "it's an alternative occult store," he tells him, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the items he's selling. while edward has learnt a lot in his time working here, he intentionally chose to find employment at the black cat due to how different it is from himself. "yeah," he nods. "if hers looks old or worn at all i doubt they came from here - this store wasn't even one that was open when the mall first opened, i'm told - but it's likely that it's the same thing, yeah, they're more commonly used than i ever knew before starting here, at least," he nods his head one more time.

"no need," he brushes his apology off with a genuine smile. "yeah, yep- i mean, i was born over there too, which explains the voice," edward doesn't want the man to think that he only has such a strong accent because he spent two years away from shrike heights. "but i also spent the last couple of years over there. left before the mall went up in '87," he gives a little more detail than necessary in case davis is still catching up on all of the simplest details about the mall. edward tries to not cringe at the comment about them being short on security; he knows of the enormous loss they've suffered, has heard of the faithful security team members who have lost their lives to the killers, and while all of the security guards edward has known personally himself are luckily still here, it pains edward to know that not everyone else can say the same. "i could see desi believing in learning in a hands on manner, thinking that there's no better way to learn than to try it for yourself," he tries to switch the tone of the conversation to a lighter one, and proves that he knows desi, the head of security, at the same time. "but desi's a great guy, he's been in town my whole life; even my father respects him, and that's pretty hard to achieve..." he trails off before remembering the rest of his train of thought. "so if you need a hand, he can help. he's always helped me," he reassures him.

for the first time, edward looks at the item that davis successfully recovered from the thief, and it's enough to make edward blush; his blush turns deeper when he realizes how lame it must seem, to be blushing over an item of clothing. it's not edward's fault that he's only had little exposure to those sorts of garments, and to the connotations that they often hold. "looks like it's from jennifer's," he tells him. "it's only a few stores down that way," he points, "so you actually weren't too far off," he reassures him again. "davis," he repeats the other's name, as if to confirm and to also tell him that he's heard the name. "edward," he tells davis, a hand on his chest in gesture to himself as he makes his introduction. "i'm probably also not the guy you want to come to when it comes to my work," he admits, though thankfully edward being clueless about what he's selling isn't quite as scary as someone in a position of protection not having their work perfected.

As he looked at the other man, Davis thought it seemed like they were both confused now, and he couldn't help but laugh; this was his doing. "I guess I'm still working out how to be security guard," he admitted sheepishly, but luckily the other guy was laughing too. It was a strange situation they found themselves in, a confused man confusing another, neither of them quite sure what was going on for a moment. "So yeah, I'm in the wrong store," Davis said, smiling wide to hide his embarrassment. Looking around, he reiterated, "Yeah, this store is definitely not where this is from," glancing down at the brightly-colored garment he was holding in his hands. "What is this place?" Davis asked, but not in a judgmental tone. If anything, he was intrigued by this new world he found himself in. "Are those tarot cards?" Davis asked, walking over to a nearby shelf. "I found a set of these in my grandma's house. I wonder if this is where she got hers, though her deck seemed a lot older." He wondered if they'd maybe been passed down through the family line, and if his mom didn't want them, Davis thought he'd keep them.

For a moment, Davis just examined the tarot decks on the shelf, but then he was brought out of his reverie, snapping back to reality. "Sorry," he apologized again with his megawatt smile. "When you moved back?" Davis wondered. "I'm guessing you spent some time across the pond, yeah? The last time I was here in Shrike Heights, the mall wasn't even built. My first time here was interviewing for the job actually, so I've been inside literally three times now. They must be short on guards if they set me loose on my second day on the job." Davis had thought it was weird, but with everything going on, he thought that the head guard was probably just glad to have a military man on staff, though he probably thought that would translate into being a good security guard too; it did not, at least not yet. When the other asked him what store he was looking for, Davis looked down again at the item he was holding, really looking at it now and realizing for the first time it was some sort of lingerie. "Uh...well, I don't remember, but...there can't be many places this sort of thing is sold, right?" He felt like the name of the store was on the tip of his tongue. "You think you might know where that is?" he asked. "And my name is Davis. Figured you'd want to know in case you need a guard; you probably should know who not to ask for." Although he laughed, his self-deprecation was just another way to hide his embarrassment, and somewhere deeper, shame.

[keimisan]

Come With Me- m.sano

- in which mikey brings happiness in your dull life.

pairing(s): sano manjiro x fem!reader (self-insert), slight drakemma.

words: 18,5k

parts: 07

description: here

warning(s): female reader, second pov, cursing, name-calling (namely, prostitute and synonyms) mentions of kidnapping, violence/ gang shit, reader is traumatized with not being believed, reader is loosely based off of me so please don't insult i'm soft, social contravention/commotion, angst, canon divergence- au, hurt/comfort.

notice: reader is shorter than mikey!

a/n: this is the first time i've written an absolute rollercoaster, and long one at that.

part i: a thornless rose

You squirm in profound discomfort, consolidated with your sweat combining into a sticky blend that has you feeling absolutely terrible. Your mouth opens in a fragile try to call for help- even though you were aware that help is too expensive for someone like you; and that calling for help must be utter shamelessness and a lousy pretense of disdain. Still, your eyes burn, your nose stifles, your lips feel bruised by the cloth banded around your chin. Your hair sticks to your back and your face like leech, the feeling of them imbuing your hopelessness.

You were just out on the streets, on your way to the local library to return the books you’d not yet read- after almost three weeks of borrowing them. Your legs were barely pulling you through the roads, faint whispers and name-calling catching your ears. Even if you didn’t want to listen, didn’t want any of the words to hazard your head- it seemed like your ears had enhanced their functionality at the expense of your emotional stability. Every other word got into your ears almost threateningly, scorning at your name for the disgrace you’d brought upon.

So you took the emptier route to home, even though it was much longer to pass. Yet, there were hardly any people lurking on those roads. You guessed it was because of the murder that'd took place years ago in a motorcycle shop- the owner told to be hit on the back of their neck by a minor thief. It was an unfortunate incident, and you knew the bike shop owner by the coincidence of a few meetings.

He was extremely kind and warm. A stranger who was much more comfort than your own home.

But nonetheless, you shouldn't have. Really.

Being someone who lived under a rock, you really didn't know this was the boulevard of numerous juvenile gangs. And you, someone rumored to be affiliated with the Yokohama Dictators and a probable enemy of every gangs in Tokyo- shouldn't have set foot on the asphalt of this street.

But it was too late to regret because a few meters into the suspiciously quiet atmosphere, your mouth was covered with a fold of clothe and an anonymous body pressed against your back. Your nerves started to mollify in a gradual yet fast pace, your hands reaching out in an attempt to confirm the last of your strength- which of most succumbed to complete flaccidity. All you heard before you passed out was, ‘we've got her!’

Who knew rumors that weren’t even true could be so scary.

You were so tempted to cry as you sat cramped on the tiled floor- unclean and insanitary. In an effort to lessen your emerging tears, you look up in an abject effort. The white ceiling above had a fan attached to three points, but to your misfortune, all of them were turned off. This place you were in had very dimmed light oozing from a few small windows high up the walls; walls which obliterated any chance of survival. Other than that, it was a very asphyxiating and congested area.

It gave you a nuance that you'd not been abducted by a nice squad, since they were as mindless as to leave you here in this incommodious store room without any form of ventilation. Then, what if you'd done something you didn't know about? What if they were after your life because of that reason? Maybe today would be your last day. You sincerely hoped they wouldn't inflict much pain upon you and offer you a short, sweet death with a nice and aimed gunshot-

A faint sound of chains and locks brought you upon your senses as you saw the door open slightly.

Wait, these gangs don't carry guns. Unless they're involved in illegal underground crimes.

“Why is this place so fucking cramped, Peh-yan?” a gruff voice stated, snickering their nose at the frowzy smell of the storage room.

So, gunshot is not an option.

When they entered, you saw two figures entering- one of them a bulky silhouette with the ongoing trendy delinquent hairstyle- short blonde hair spiked in the middle of their head. Came behind a tall guy, much lankier compared to the other, his head shaved to keep only 1 cm of hair- his expression aloof as he took in the scolds of the other.

“Why would you even tell someone to wait in this disgusting place-“

Then the blonde haired boy's eyes hovered onto you, briefly noticing your cloth-bound face and your rope-tied hands; not to mention the painfully uncomfortable position in which you sat on the floor.

“What the fuck, Peh-yan?!” He intensely glares the other, exclaiming in unparalleled shock as he continues, “Are you fucking dumb?! Why would you bring someone over like this? Don't tell me you brought her here without her consent and tied her up like a kidnapper!”

The guy looked to be quite angry- much in contradiction to your expectations of how dangerous they might be. But you were still scared, no matter how different they acted, they were people you didn't know.

By now, their yells had induced a tear to escape your eyes- dripping down and mixing with the sweat under your eyes as it absorbs into the fabric on your mouth. In the moments that came, you saw the taller male approaching you. As if you weren't afraid enough, the closer he came, the more you realized how deadly strong he looked.

He could smash you with a finger.

You heard more footsteps, and the fear hiked up your body like goosebumps- your skin cold despite the unbearable heat of the summer.

“What on earth is this place, Pah-chin?” Came a carefree voice in the distance, yet to make way into your range of sight.

Shit. You assured yourself that it's alright, you'd be fine if you try explaining your innocence on whatever crime you'd committed. They wouldn't hurt you, right?

Yet you can't help the apprehension that increased with every second- paralyzing your body as if you’d been bitten by a brazillian spider. Your nerves in a frenzy, you could only blink your eyes through the ambiguity.

You see four more figures make their way inside, all clad in the same uniform. They looked more like an abnormal bunch than the previous two. One of them sporting an unusual tattoo on his head- his remaining hair fashioned into a neat braid. Beside him walked a tuft of ginger hair with a strange yet exuberant smile. The other person seemed rather ordinary to you, with short lilac hair like silver plates and shining lavender eyes; and a remarkable earring on his left ear.

The last person though, was evidently different than the rest; clad in a white t-shirt with the uniform pants with his jacket rested stylishly upon his shoulders- as well as his hands stuffed in his pockets. You notice his strikingly beautiful hair, adorned in a half ponytail that complimented his aura. His obsidian eyes looked around the room, his brows furrowing in what you thought was annoyance.

They were quite pretty to be associated with a gang.

“Did you get her abducted?” the aforementioned male asked who he called Pah-chin, noticeably pissed.

“I swear I never expected Peh-yan to be this stupid, Mikey.” he replies, half scared and half guilty.

“The hell with your heads-“ Mikey-san exclaims, a loud tch leaving his lips. He almost jogs his way toward you, visibly and frighteningly angry; the rest of the squad following after him. You shut your eyes to avoid the extreme surge of panic- blinking lightly to rid the blurriness caused by your own sweat and tears.

“Turn all the fans on,” he plainly orders, to which the tall guy from before immediately heeds to. Mikey reaches close to you in seconds only, witnessing your glassy eyes and the abundance of sweat that covered you.

Looking at him close up- he carried a sort of charm; one that fascinated every cell around him. His fair skin and dark eyes coordinated into making him look even more charismatic. His eyes though, carried such appeal through their orphic lucence that the emotions they held were menacing without words. Not to mention his blonde hair that cascaded down to his shoulders in alluring short waves- reflecting the sunlight in its sporadic strands. Despite being deadly, you noted that he was undeniably handsome.

“Draken, untie all these messes,” he says, his voice a clear signal of intimidation.

The tallest guy with a tattooed head comes forth, kneeling before you and first removing the cloth from your mouth as he throws it away- then moving onto the rough rope that grazed your wrists. Only when your hands were free did you notice the vigorous tremble of your fingers. You clasped your hands together again, tightly- to stop the thrum that easily gave away how stunned you were.

You realize your clothes stuck to you like the glue of a semi-elastic membrane- soaked and greasy to the touch. It made you feel even more disgusted how the skin of your stomach was almost visible through the thin coat of fabric; the similar color of your undergarment apparent through the shirt. You felt humiliated to appear like that- pathetic and sickening.

Draken offers you a clean handkerchief, but you stare at it- not knowing if you were allowed to accept the littlest subtlety from them. “Please dry yourself,” he says, polite. It motivates you to reach out for the piece of fabric in his hands; trying your best to make it less obvious how your body was trembling.

“Peh-yan get spare clothes this instant!” Draken hollers behind him with a gruff command and you stop abruptly, a gasp choking in your throat. Draken notices this not a moment later, sighing as he drops the fabric onto your hands. Standing up, he picks up the rope and throws it aside. You confine your eyes within yourself, wishing you could curl yourself in a ball and obscure yourself from the situation you were in. Your unstable hands barely allowed you to reach your face, the handkerchief suddenly hard to handle and on the verge of falling onto your lap.

“Smiley, could you get a bottle of water?” Draken asks and you hear a short laugh and an affirmative ‘why not' from Smiley whom you'd yet to know. But you dare not lift your downcast eyes even though they hadn't seemed keen on doing anything dangerous to you.

And gunshot wasn't an option.

They'd appeared quite well-behaved on the contrary but oh trust. Trust was such a fickle thing that the moment you believe someone, they'd go opposite of your thoughts- you knew it the harsh way.

In the midst of your unending fear and loitering thoughts, you feel the linen surface of a familiar jacket covering your sweat-stricken body. That makes you look up without second thoughts, your eyes landing upon the distinctive boy who lent you the jacket; leaving him only in his white shirt. Maybe it was because of how immoral you looked- which they probably expected- that it was sickening for them.

He kneeled down in front of you, inspecting your features as if he couldn't believe something- maybe how scared shitless you were or maybe how unclean you looked with your hair in a mess- you weren't sure. His eyes resembled skepticism, and his brows a thin disbelief. You wondered why, but that was less important than successfully hiding your face from his incredulous stare- so you held the handkerchief on your nose, your eyes everywhere but him.

“Water bottle here.”

You again look up to see the frizzy-haired boy, his smile bringing you a kind of comfort. He hands the water bottle to you before stepping away and standing in the same orderly stance as the others. Your eyes flutter towards the bottle in your hands, your throat feeling incredibly dry as you mutter a ‘thank you' to him.

You were in concentrated caution because not only was a person kneeling face to face with you, the others were watching you with similar alertness. You were so pitifully out of strength that you couldn't even twist the bottle cap- how disgraceful and that too in a terrible timing. Your fingers fiddled with the bottle cap, the energy flowing forth your wrists doing zero to nothing in moving the solid plastic. You curse yourself internally for being so utterly weak in such circumstances.

The man before you gently takes the bottle from you, twisting the cap open with no fuss and with no stress. He then hands it over to you, prompting you to drink. Your dry throat screams with relief as you take the first gulp. Even with total disagreement within yourself, you still lower the bottle after two sips- licking your lips as you taste the salty texture of your own skin.

“Drink more. You need it.”

You jerk up slightly at the voice, your eyes betraying you when they snap wide-eyed towards the man in question- rendering you completely unaware when the bottle slips from your fingers. But his reflexes are faster than that- fortunately for you- that he catches the bottle before it falls and locks it up himself. You stare at him as he does so and hope to almighty that your weakness doesn’t bother him too much; and that he doesn’t notice you looking so shamelessly- so brazenly as if you had the adequate confidence to look him in the eye.

“My comrades must've inconvenienced you,” he says after a short period of observation- the thick bricks of humiliation and promiscuity breaking upon you like a rain of stones even though you were covered. You say nothing in response to his statement, partly petrified and partly- having no right to say anything to someone like him, in fear of causing offense.

After waiting for a few dawdling seconds, he heaves a sigh; his lidded eyes reflecting absolutely nothing as he orders in a few yet conclusive words, “Mitsuya, take her home.”

That’s it, you’ve faithfully enraged the lead- you’ve gone and done what you wanted the least. The minimal thought of it incited a sudden burn in your eyes, your chest tight and overflowing with anxiety.

“N-no, I-” you pause, an awful start. However, you still continue, “I was..”

But you didn’t know what you wanted to say at all.

The aforementioned Mikey turns his eyes towards you again, emotionless yet entrancing, “If you don't prefer that then that’s fine with me too,” he says.

His tone itself was so authoritative, that you couldn’t but answer in vague affirmation. But the next moment, in a sense of strong opposition, Draken grumbled, “Mikey, she isn't in the proper condition.”

Mikey looks over at him in similar condescension, leaving no space for further objects, “She said no,” he replies. “Might as well finish my business.”

He turns back to you, eyes staring drills into your self-stability, “You have a connection with the yokohama dictators, is that right?” No. you think. I’ve never seen them or known them or even heard of them. Your mind screams words that your lips fail to utter, instead, they gape open with treacherous trepidation; and with no intention of conveying.

Mikey appeals a threat to you, as if giving the last warning before you manage to push his buttons, “I hope you'll co-operate with us and answer my questions.” As considerate as it sounded, you sensed the cautionary advice behind his monotonous tone. Undeniably, your body freezes up in stagnant alert, pupils dilating in panic.

“Who is the leader of the gang? And tell me if you know anything about their hideouts.”

You don’t know anything, you can’t even understand his questions when he speaks so. Your mind wanders to find any possible responses to his inquiry but discovers nothing. It’s as if your head is in a quagmire of cotton candies, but extremely bitter and foul to the taste.

“Draken, she's not answering.”

Why aren’t you answering?

“I told you to leave her alone, Mikey.”

Tell them no, tell them that you’re innocent.

But how naïve might you be to approve your own innocence and even thinking about apprising them of it. However, you needed any excuse to get yourself out of here.

“No,” you mutter. Then, like a sudden push even at your own reluctance, a surge of stuttering words pour of you without much consideration, “I really…don’t know anything. I don't even know who you're talking about. I've never met them and I’ve never been outside my home, I swear. I really don't-”

“You don’t need to say anymore, its fine.” Mikey stops you, much to your surprise. He then allows himself one look at your glassy eyes- gleaming with a desperation to be trusted, believed; and to be heard. But he doesn’t spare himself the respite of freewill, standing up as he struts away to the door. “Peh-yan, come with me.”

You watch his dominant silhouette fade away from your sight, his back a faint reminder that you’d taken hostage of his uniform jacket. But it’s almost forgotten when a guy from the sidelines approaches you- silverish purple hair with admirable features, his eyes a little too kind when he smiles at you and says, “I’m Mitsuya. Do you mind if I escort you home?”

No.

Don’t take me home.

part ii : the kindness with no bounds

Girls are supposed to be like blooming roses; delicate and pure and a remarkable sight for the eye. With petals that shone like brilliant cerise and effervesced with an innumerable amount of endurance. Girls were supposed to be like roses that offered softness and maternal equity.

You for one, knew that in no way were roses delicate or any word it’s described with. Because like their unparalleled beauty, they also grew the fiercest thorns- as a warning. And you; you had yet to know how to make use of the thorns.

You didn’t know whether it was the fear, or the surety that you’d be given a severe ultimatum for not being home for such a long time- and accused of doing things beyond your imagination. But you, not in your right mind, told him the wrong address and bid him goodbye before a house that you didn’t know.

You stare at the foreign gates, your mind storming through a thousand battered thoughts. Most of which were, if you didn’t have a home, where can you make home? Even if for the night- a hopeless delay in the cruelty you’re sure to face- where would you go? Where can you go?

There’s nowhere. Even though your clothes were now dry, it was still sweltering inside you, the sweat-dried grimy clothes brushing against you worsened your condition. You noticed the ‘Touman’ jacket was still on your shoulders, its width completely covering you up. You couldn’t help but sniff in its scent- a sweet sandalwood with a sprinkle of leafy peppermint- not strongly aromatic or too piquant, just a sweet fragrance; like the summer wind and floral fields and fresh grass.

It strangely smelled like a home you never knew existed.

As you walk on the unknown roads you notice a large tree with vast branches- the buildings, the trees, and even the post-marks a hazy painting to you. It looked like a fair place to rest just until night- you’d worry about another shelter when its night time.

The tree probably wasn’t any less gloomy than you were- it too was taken for granted and uncared for. But it was lonelier than anyone else- or so you’d known. You guessed today’s company for the secluded tree could be you.

Saddening.

And you still didn’t have the courage to face home.

You sat down under the tree, your head leaning on its coarse surface. You fold the jacket into a neatly pleated square, resting it on your lap as you entwine your hands over it- cherishing its peaceful sillage. Your eyelids greet each other in grim solace, your stomach grumbling with unattended hunger. But you could care less, at least you could sit somewhere- for now, that was enough for you.

An hour or two passes by in a blur, the kids around you all rushed home- the momentary chaos now gone and submerged into a deafening silence. The faint sound of crickets and a string of constant white noise clog your ears. Time seems to pass like pouring rain for you, the clock long-forgotten- not like you had a chance to check the accurate time.

So you really don’t realize when a figure approaches you from a side- or how they stare at your closed eyes. It’s only when you hear a chewing sound do your eyes snap open, directly landing on the said person. To your surprise, it’s the owner of the lone jacket on your lap, and the one that caused you such calamity.

You really didn’t want to meet him like this. Or like any way.

Even though his plain eyes instilled fear like a plague, his expression right now was too relaxed to be the person you saw earlier today. As usual, his eyes held no particular emotion, but his mouth filled with food made him look unnaturally comical. His right hand held a half-eaten bun, the other smugly resting in his pocket.

You didn’t know how to react, but you did know that the sight of him made you anxious all over. There were so many things he could ask you. Why aren’t you at home, or why did you not answer him, or why did you lie- so many things he could entrap you with that demanded a proper explanation; exactly what you were afraid of.

But he doesn’t say anything as he sits down beside you, making you scoot over to give him a better room. He takes another bite off of his sweet bun- muffled voice as he says, “The sky is pretty, right?”

Your eyes waver to the sky, a simple nod affirming his question. The sky really was pretty. Even though the purples and cyans and vermillions were fading away like dry autumn leaves, the sky still held its stupendous glamour.

However, the turmoil inside you screamed and thrashed for you to give him some sort of explanation on why you were here at this time- with his jacket- and homeless. “Yes, I came outside a moment ago,” you mutter, hoping this little piece of information will satisfy his curiosities- if there were any.

He turns towards you, your eyes immediately lowering down to avoid his gaze. But you see it when a slight smile garnishes his face, the side of his face illuminated by the fading sunset and post-lights. “So you have nowhere to go,” he says.

Your eyes jump up at him, flabbergasted at how blatantly he catches your lie. As a last means of self-conduct, “I said I came out a while ago,” you say.

“I know,” he answers simply, but the smoldering smirk on his face said otherwise. It seemed so naturally futile to lie to him- as if he could see through all your deliberate deceit and figure you out in an instant. You don’t protest to him anymore, submitting to the fact that you were caught.

After a worthwhile of silence and him just chewing onto his bun, he heaves a sigh and says, “Don’t you want to freshen up? You can stay at my place.”

Yes, you think.

Your clothes felt like slithering leaves and your skin a sheath of dirt and sweat. Freshening up sounded like a tempting idea, much for you who’s had one heck of a day.

“I possibly can’t accept,” you reply, your gaze at your fiddling fingers on your lap. “I will…figure something out.”

Something about your voice sounded melancholic to Mikey- it did before and it still does now. Of course trusting a casual suggestion of a gang leader won’t be on anyone’s to-do list. But how can he prove his validity to you?

“I’m being serious.”

You think he’s genuine, but it’s not entirely your choice to make the decision. What will people say if they knew? How will they feel? Won’t you be bringing home yet another disgrace? Even so, you really hadn’t anywhere to go. Your conscience rationalized the millions of questions that flooded your head with this one answer, you desperately needed a place to stay.

Mikey stares as you appear to be deep into thinking, the lights giving a slight resonance to your already hidden face. That allowed Mikey to see the few spots of dust on your skin, and your incredibly dry lips. He knew the moment he saw you that you’d never went home- your adhesive clothes, your cluttered hair, your weary demeanor, and the touman jacket that laid on your lap- it wasn’t too hard to decipher. And he didn’t want to burden you by asking about the why’s or the how’s, he could just provide you help for one night if that’s what you needed. He didn’t deem it necessary to find more.

He also knew you’d just need a little more push to come around.

“It's unlikely of me to be offering this but,” he begins, “Come with me,” Mikey lowers his head close to you, his dark orbs scanning for your eyes under your blanket of hair.

“I’m not feeling very dangerous, so you can expect me to be a kind of…gentleman I guess?” His voice is as carefree as you’d heard before, except a tad bit low and unexpectedly assuring. “Or you can leave after dinner.”

“And I feel it’s my fault you’re in this situation,” He whispers lowly, almost inaudible.

Your eyes then lock with his, watching how tantalizingly beautiful his eyes were as they shined under the spotlights. “And your clothes look too uncomfortable,” he chuckles, his index finger pointing at your attire. Your hands instantly clutch onto your opposite arms, securing yourself in a tight hold and your eyes- wide as a saucepan- stare at him in utter disbelief.

He then stands up, his hand extended for you to hold onto.

“Come on, it’s close by.”

This would be the last time you trust a man.

Once you stepped into the wooden floors of his home, an excitingly cheerful voice greeted you, “Mikey’s brought a girl home!” exclaimed a womanly voice, startling you. You stand there before the door as you watch Mikey make a beeline inside, ignoring the jittery girl at his side.

“Come on in!” she says, grabbing your hands as she drags you inside. Their home was quite tidy and smelled like desserts and cinnamon- cozy to the sight. The girl walks you to a particular room, sitting you on the sofa as she whispers in a quirky way, “Wait here.”

You feel quite guilty to be sitting on such an item of neat furniture- you feel as if your mere existence is staining the spotless fabric. After a few minutes, you hear two voices echoing outside- one of Mikey and the other of the girl you’ve seen moments ago.

You don’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation but the walls were too thin to conceal their voices- and you hear your name being spoken. After that, their voices get considerably lower, enough so that you can’t make out the entirety of their sentences. You hear Mikey say a simple, ‘she’s gonna stay here,’ but you don’t hear anything after that.

Right after, the said person enters the room with a fishcake in his hands, subtly chewing on the sweet. “This is my sister Emma,” he says, albeit boringly.

“Get out of the door already,” the lady says in response, kicking Mikey’s soles as she grimaces in disgust. Mikey gives her a menacing look before he turns his gaze towards you, “I’ll take my leave then.”

Your brows knit in confusion as you watch the latter smugly walk away with the fishcake in his hands. You’d thought this was his place- but then, why would he leave from his own abode? As if reading your mind, Emma says, “He lives in a separate room. I’d like to call that a garage but its too habitable,” there’s a sign of sheer admiration in her voice, and an inseparable respect that made you envy their sibling- bond.

Must be great, you think.

“Come on now, miss y/n.”

The way she gently holds your hand and offers you necessities and a place to stay- reminded you so much of the bike-shop owner you’d known from years ago. The generous gaze that littered in their reflections and the compassionate demeanor- wanting to help anyone through their hardships- it was such a rarity to witness.

Like this, your dread-filled day ends with the solitary kindness of pure strangers. Though you know the peace is momentary, it’s just one night, one thoughtful smile, and one handsome gaze. But you still wanted to hold onto it for the times to come; like a treasured memory, passed down onto days and weeks but it doesn’t fade, nor does it dwindle- its consistency untouchable and sheltered.

You close your eyes, hoping you could delay your demise for one more day.

One more day.

One more day.

∾∾∾

“Your culinary skills are fantastic, did you learn to cook?” Emma asks in astonishment, her eyes peering over the batches of omurice you were decorating with absolute fervor. “You’re not bad yourself, Emma-chan,” you say in reply, the smile tugging at your lips wide and clear.

When you woke up you had seen the younger girl engaged into cooking breakfast for all of you; visibly struggling. You’d thought that since you were an unwanted guest, you ought to help in any way you could- to make up for the trouble you’d caused. And when you inched closer you saw her trying to cook a bunch altogether, resulting in a messy kitchen island. She had prepared a batch of freshly cooked rice with four eggs in a bowl, also a horde of ingredients for some side dishes.

Thus, you lent her a hand, but ended up taking over entirely. Emma was now busied in collaborating a variety of vegetables for her salad, mixing them up with a little bit of mayonnaise and vinegar, with a pinch of tasting salt.

“No, you’re too good,” she retaliates, her face inching closer to your pot of fried rice- sniffing. She heaves a deep sign of contentment, her shoulders visibly relaxing as she says, “It smells even better.”

“I hope it’d be good to taste too,”

Your little conversation with Emma entertains you through your cooking session. Your small chats informed you that Emma and Mikey lived in separate spaces but they spent most of their time together- that being said after Emma exclaims Mikey to be the one to raise her throughout her childhood. Your talk of her adored brother soon switched to the tall vice-president of Touman (as emma said), the infamous Draken.

The way Emma spoke about Draken sounded so dreamy that you were sure they hadn’t a friendly relationship. She seemed to be quite irrevocably in love with him, prattling about how Draken was her knight in shining armor. You’d intentionally smiled at that- because her words were so pure and vacuous of faux that you wondered how fairytails could be true too.

As you flip the cooked egg, sliding it into the plate beneath and melting another cube of butter over the pan, a presence loomed over your back. “Whoaa, we are finally getting actual food!” the voice who you guessed to be Mikey exclaims, extending his arm to split a piece of the recently cooked egg- his checkered sleeve being right beside your head.

The scent that fills your nose is the same as the first time you’d met, except a bit more like rainshower and grass. The mere realization that he was right behind you- close to the point that you could feel his breath penetrating your thin coat of hair and hitting your nape- has you still in your position, unable to move. Even the permeating warmth of another person behind you has your cheeks flushing deep pink. It felt like you were apart at hair length – the thought itself made you shy for an unknown reason.

A little more, a little closer and you’d have touched him.

“Oi, don’t eat right now!”

Emma’s scolding backs him off. And without looking, you knew he was walking away- the coldness of your back a hollow reminder. You shake your head to brush the thoughts out, again flipping the last egg as you plate it above the bowl of rice.

No matter what, you’d have to leave again. You’d have to face the consequences of following your heart- even though you dreaded it like a death-plague.

You’d have to leave

And you wonder if you’ll see these smiles again?

part iii: not home

Sunlight dawned over the clouds, infiltrating the earth with its bright rays. The ground was a mixture of stray metals and soil, a clear prompt than it had been years since it were treaded upon. The trajectory of the sunrays reflected upon some of the metals, shining here and there like littered fairy lights.

You didn’t know where you were, the lady from last night, Emma had dragged you into this desolate place- along with her brother. Emma had generously washed and dried your previous clothes, so you’d thanked her for her favors and worn your own clothes since it seemed too ignorant to be accepting help from her any further. However, Mikey’s jacket was still laid under the warmth of the sun, partially wet.

So, today the said boy was clad in his casual attire, his hair in his signature updo. He sat on one of the metal logs, Draken by his side. And you looked around the shadowed settlement, its broken walls sporting paintings of pencil scrapes, and spray marks- the entirely of it a caricature of lousy vandalism. The paint had ridden off of the walls; the windows no longer beckon light inside, no longer lift the gloom that the walls impose. Instead, they add to the growing sense of dampness and dark and permit the chill wind to penetrate.

A few minutes later, the empty space was flooded by a wave of people, all clad in the same uniform. You’d surmised that it was their gang, it was their group of people. But the intensity of it scared you. So many people, some of them physically scarred and intimidation oozing off of them like a deep scent. You only step back after seeing the surge of bodies, looking down to avoid your apparent fear.

“Toman!”

You hear a scream. From the corner of your eyes, you see Mikey’s sandal-clad feet step down from the metal log- standing confidently in front of all these people.

“Whoever passed the information that a certain student had connections with the yokohama dictators, was wrong. So, moving forward, I don’t want to hear any baseless information about that. Is that clear?”

You’re surprised by how his voice echoed through the dense place, his words vehement with the sense of authority. The uniformly crowd scream in unison, “Yes leader!” they say. But the noise hits your head like bricks. Your legs stumble back, and you feel the soft press of Emma’s hand on your back.

Emma, a strong girl you’d grown to admire, smiles down at you. “It’s alright,” she says. And you look down again. How shameful of you, to be this frail when the people around you are so strong, are so admirable. Your weakness makes you feel like an oddity- heck, you can’t even endure loud sound!

“I don’t want any of you trying to pry information about her either! Her protection is in my hands, do not bring shame to me. Clear?”

It’s only now that you realize that he’d been talking about you. The mentioned student was you. But how could he believe you so easily? You thought. When the majority of people who claimed to be close to you and knew you like the palm of their hands distrusted you like it were such an obvious thing. Their nepotism displayed towards the rumors that had no source, so you thought again and again, how could a meager stranger have confidence in you without much words?

Your eyes catch upon a familiar face, the blonde-haired ‘captain’ from the other day. You’d expected to see the lanky brunette beside him, but he was standing alone. Your eyes searched wide for your abductor but found nothing but unfamiliar faces.

Peh-yan…was it?

“Peh-yan…he’s not here?” you quietly look at Emma, her smiling glint still evident. She appears to think for a moment, then she says, “No, I heard he’s reprimanded because of something stupid he did.”

Emma doesn’t seem to fret over it that much, but you think it’s partly because of your involvement that he’s not here, and that- suddenly made you feel apologetic. “Don’t worry about him, Mikey probably put him in a week suspension or something,” Emma reassures.

So he was in suspension?

You guessed it wasn’t very ideal of him to abduct a student in her vulnerability when he wasn’t directly ordered to do so. However, something in you blamed yourself for his suspension. Maybe if you hadn’t appeared as pathetic and as pitiful, then he could’ve gotten a lighter sentence.

“Disperse!”

The loud holler brought you back into the ongoing reality. You saw the large crowd of men hastily scatter outside, one by one walking out of the settlement- leaving only you, Emma, Mikey, and Draken. Before you knew it, Emma had grabbed your hand, walking towards the other two as they stood there in waiting.

“I hope my guess was right, miss--?” his tone drags out at the end, indirectly seeking for your identity. “[name],” you reply, albeit somberly. Mikey sits down again, motioning you to sit beside Emma on the other metal log. Draken too secures his place beside the shorter male, towering over the other unintentionally.

He then offers you a bracing smile, his eyes crinkling up into shimmering crescents, “Oh, how impolite of me to not have introduced myself yet. Sano Manjiro, Mikey,” he introduces.

“And this pole is Draken,” He continues, pointing to the taller one who evidently wasn’t happy with it. His lips formed into an aggravated scowl, a nerve visibly popping in his head. Teeth gritted, he turned towards the smiling male, manifesting his best threatening voice, he replies, “Who are you calling a pole, you shrimp.”

“Tall tree.”

“I’m not arguing with you.”

Mikey smiles in triumph, earning a displeasing look from Draken. “Miss [name],” he begins, and you hope to your best that he wouldn’t ask you about that, you hoped he’d simply discard it aside and let you free- though you never wanted to be let free.

Your doubts were scattered shockingly when he says, “Would you like to hangout with us, miss [name]?”

Hangout?

The excitement in his tone is past your understanding. It fazed you how it was the same leader, the same commander, who’d asked you to tag along with him in an almost child-like spirit. You then see him swing an arm around Draken’s shoulder, with abundant effort because even the latter bending down didn’t aid him in any way. “We really fancy bike rides. What do you say?”

His eyes were totally shining as he asked you this. Beside him, the taller male also sported a quaint smile in affirmation- and Emma, Emma was enthusiastically eyeing you to just say yes.

But you couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, I…need to return back,” you reply, apologetic.

“Let us give you a ride then?” Mikey insisted. By his tone, you knew he respected your choice and he didn’t feel the need to ask you why- though you thought he should. Because a man cannot continue offering help without any clear explanation, without knowing anything when he deserved to.

“That would be too troublesome of me. I’m already grateful enough for the kindness you’ve shown me,” your neck lulls in a slight bow, in appreciation of all the things they’d done for you. You think having a heart that cared for others- was the most precious treasure one could own. Scarcity of such heart was dangerous; and exactly what brought you to your destiny.

I cannot let myself get attached to your joy any longer.

“Then, one last request miss y/n,” he jumps from the log, sliding his hands in his pockets as he walks toward you- an unlikely gleam in his eyes.

“Let me uncover your mystery.”

You’re taken aback by a storm. There’s no sign of mischief in his eyes as he speaks, but it’s like an impassable covenant and you’ve got no choice but to agree. You suppose it wouldn’t be that bad, but you knew in yourself that what he desires is simply impossible. Because no matter how much he asks around, or who he asks, no one knows the truth and no one will defend your virtues.

He wouldn’t be able to uncover anything. It’d be in vain, and he would be stuck with the information he’d known before.

“If,” you say, “If you can.”

And then you smile, the first genuine smile you’d shown throughout the day. Your delusional hopes of attaining freedom reflected in your eyes like moonlight meeting the blue lake- but insufficiently caged and reliant- however, they carried a swish of optimism and a challenge to see how much he could do.

“If you can then I will gladly say yes.”

∾∾∾

Dread and fear and terror.

Was what your feelings entwined into.

That evening, that wretched evening, when you’d decided to greet the wooden doors of your home; you couldn’t even step a foot inside. There was more than one guest inside your house by the angry arguments you’d heard; not arguments you’d say, more like an aggressive approach of informing your mother that their daughter had been out the entire day committing imbecile sins.

They’d said that they had seen you entering the premise of a local brothel, in sheer and impure clothes that gave away your similarly contaminated intentions. They added that they’d seen you out again in the middle of the night, your clothes in a hazard, and your appearance littered like those girls of the brothel.

They’d demanded that you were involved in illegal teenage prostitution.

But….how could they?

Despite the tears snagging and prickling at your lids, a little knock was all that took for you to be face to face with your conspirator. Her eyes an estranged red in anger, his fisted knuckles exhausted- and you thought what they would gain by selling you out like this. What was the purpose? What prompted them to even think of framing you with gossips that seemed far too fantastical?

Behind came your mother, with the uttermost disappointed look on her face. Her eyes weren't angry, nor were they flaming with questions of why; she seemed to undoubtedly believe the woman like it was second to instinct. Your eyes begged her to take your side, tell the woman that you, her daughter, would never do something this low, would never stoop to this level.

Tell her that she knew her own daughter and she trusted that her daughter was innocent.

“Mother,”

Your voice trembled and toppled with endless stones in your throat, the simplest of simple words falling through in choked whispers. Your entire body screamed and begged but no matter how you voice it out or no matter how your eyes gloss with pain, your mother's gaze remains unwavering.

You knew she won't trust you, but why did you keep hoping for it? Only to be struck with the steep agony that came afterwards? Or to be canned into this tyrannical loop of distrust and disappointment?

“What are you doing here, you disgusting wench!?” the woman before you screams, pushing at your shoulder. Her touch is harsher than ever, but they also reminded you of how you were about to go through the same thing again, the same pain, the same suffering. Again.

You were the subject of yet another controversy.

“Mom,” by this time your throat was clogged with the emotions your tearing eyes brought, the salty liquid flowing down your face without any hindrances- unlike your current situation that had you stumbling and hitting on the same rock, the same boulder.

“Get out. Right now.”

Is the first thing your mother says. With no emotions, with no hesitation.

So, that was it for you.

The woman screamed a few more profanities at you, but your mind was too tired to process it, too paining to let it break past your nerves. The door slammed hard in front of you, making you stumble backwards. But you didn't move at all, your body was in this inconsistent chokehold of pain and disbelief and all the existing emotions you could fathom- stabbing right in the middle of your chest, brutally and mercilessly.

You assumed that you'd stood there for at least half an hour before you decided you should find shelter under the same tree you had before. Maybe even the tree would be displeased at the sight of you but you could tell it to show you the littlest of kindness, tell it that you had no one. Maybe it would take pity on you, let you bask in its shadows for a while before it too, shoos you away.

Your steps felt like weightier bricks every time your foot landed on the concrete, and your muscles felt like contorted flesh and blood sewn together with limp strings. And when you sat down under the shade, your tears flowed freely, shamelessly. Sometimes you bit your lips and sometimes you scratched at your eyes, but it felt like nothing. It felt like a numb reminder and a numb protection against your anguish.

Pitiful and pathetic, like you always were.

recommended to listen to: black rose- the rose

part iv: If comfort were a person

It was nearing evening by the moment you wiped your tears and distilled all the thoughts in your head. But the numbness stayed with you, along with the forgiving shade of the tree. You felt like you were accepting an alternate reality. An otherworldly fantasy that made no sense, but the author was the lord of the story and thus, the characters had no right to complain. You felt like a string doll being throttled around by its wires, frolicked and uncared for. it felt like,

Accepting a reality that never happened but then again, maybe it did.

“[name]?”

Your eyes snap open to see the familiar cream locks and deep obscure eyes. Déjà vu, you think, with his hand holding the same sweet bun and the same aloof look on his face. However, you didn't have the Touman jacket, nor did he feel like danger or a menacing presence.

You'd have preferred it that way, though.

“Why aren’t you at home?” He asks, too softly. Like he'd been hesitating for moments, like it'd scar your fragile coat of melanin walls.

Even a few moments ago, it would have. It would've pained you so much that you'd have cried and told him why the world treated you so unfairly. You'd have clutched onto your chest and grieved, whispering why it had to be me, why it had to be me.

But now, you didn't really feel that intensely.

You say nothing, tilting your head and staring at him in hopes that he’d not question further. It was selfish of you to hope, since he was akin to a savior, and he deserved to know. But you were far too freestanding of those thoughts, and you didn’t want to bring any of it back.

Like you surmised, he really doesn’t ask any further. Instead, he again drapes his Touman jacket atop you; adjusting it on your shoulders as he shyly pats your arm. You follow his gaze when he stands up- extending his hand towards you with a gentle, unpretentious smile.

“Come with me?”

Come with me, a question; an inquiry that required your opinion. You'd go with him without a doubt- he was so much more home than those wooden doors that denied your ingress. It felt like a welcoming nostalgia, but in different situations.

You take his hands without hesitation and before you knew it, he’d hauled you on the back seat of his motorbike, quite effortlessly. And then, you were willingly on his bike and riding through the neighborhood alongside Draken and Emma, with the latter perched on Draken’s brisk wheels.

Mikey’s effort in helping you feel better was much more meaningful to you than any consolation.

Mikey’s CB250T made a tunnel through the liquid sunshine of the summery day, the hot air blowing your hair into the wind. The pressure had you cowering behind Mikey- since you were foreign to the freedom that came along with it. Your hand impulsively clutched onto his white shirt as he speeds up all of a sudden, a small gasp leaving your lips. But strangely enough, even when the bike took turns or leaned on a side, your balance never faltered- although your hands gripped onto him tighter.

You thought bike rides weren’t your cup of tea; because of how the constant fear of falling off was instilled in your bones. But, it was just… fascinating. And when you were out in the fields and the greenery made its way into your view, you realized just how beautiful everything around you was. Mikey’s speed decreased as if it had discovered its direction yet was content to meander at its own pace and your grip weakens.

“Wohoooooo! Yeaaaaaahh.”

You see Emma scream with her hands up in the air, her legs standing straight on the supports of Draken’s bike. She showed no fear, even placing her hands on the male’s shoulders as she giddily jumped.

Her courage seemed like a drug, a type that liberated your soul and challenged you to far extents. You’d wanted to experience that kind of wild freedom too, wanted to feel the air against your cheeks and have your hair cascade through the wind like glistening twines.

So you too, let go of Mikey’s shirt and spread your arms on both sides, leaning back as you let the wind push you away. “Ha!” you chuckle, feeling how greatly the nature tapped your mind and how the independent wind scoured around you- lightly pattering your face with chilliness.

The wind greeted concrete and skin just the same, yet you were so blessed to feel it. Its giddy currents flew through woodland canopies, unaware of how its song soothes those who can hear, how its olive hue brightens those who can see. You find yourself in joyful anticipation, absorbing the bright colors of the verdure and sunset, taking a moment to watch a dragonfly pass by with its translucent emerald wings fluttering through your sight.

Everything around you made you laugh in bliss, smile with no chains dragging you aback. The more you laugh, the more you scream, the more you feel as if your heart has let go of a heavy encumbrance- one which you weren’t aware was clogging your nerves like screw in glass.

Mikey shares your moment of ecstasy, his lips pulled into a wide smile as he focuses on the vacant road; accelerating and driving away.

You swore you hadn’t known such happiness, such freedom existed in this hollow and concussing world.

Your hair slaps at your face and your shirt presses against your chest and yet; yet this bliss is much more than that. That evening, as the sun sets down right in front of your eyes, its reminiscent radiance leaving a glowing lavender in the yellows and reds of the sky, your smile never leaves your face.

The seconds feel like hours and the minutes an unending eternity, but the moment, however, does end. Only for another to begin.

Before Mikey even parks his bike, Emma is already skipping off the stairs and Draken is already chasing after her with worried words. She looks back a few times, only for her to burst out in laughter as she ushers Draken to catch up to her. Knowing the taller, you know he’d have no problem reaching Emma within seconds, but he doesn’t fasten his pace.

And you realize, this isn’t a battlefield where everyone is eristic; fighting for higher credit, higher scores. All of them are simply, plainly enjoying themselves like young toddlers. That alone makes you flush in amazement; what amazing people must they be, and how much of a free life they must have.

“Come on,” Mikey smiles at you, heading down with his hands in his pockets- skipping the stairs almost like Emma, but slower. You follow his steps and observe how Emma still runs throughout the fields; and how Draken sits on the lowest stair, simply staring with a smile.

You could close your eyes and feel that the meadow and floral stupor were as much within you as they were around you, you could feel the environment. And their happiness, along with yours, represented small flowers along the footpath; unnoticed by many, yet more precious to your eye than a galaxy or any sculpture that brought their beauty in beautiful strokes of softest bristles.

As you await the dim sunlight and the purplish sky, the shadows of the grass dance underneath your shoes with the blowing breeze. Your footsteps dapple the ground like scattered freckles, the mirth flickering in pixy light, making every moment that passes by a cherished memory; a new polaroid in the albums of your camera.

The sunset melts into fluorescence, the colors into the horizon and

You wonder if you could ever be as free.

∾ ∾ ∾

recommended to listen: that’s okay- d.o.

Your fingers moved briskly on the coarse parchment, scribbling down a mismatch of numbers and symbols and words and letters and- Mikey subtly stares at you- wondering how you could even understand the meaning of such incredulity. The questions were like a bunch of unrelated circumstances for him, as if asking a goat how it feels to be a donkey. The number and little scribbles- orderly and so neat that he wondered if calligraphy could be as graceful as your written words, if the leaves of the tree could be as lucent as your sharp grace.

The more he stared, the more awed he was. How the deep melancholy in you hid so many secrets, so many puzzles and so much mathematical talent. It’s totally illegal of him to take advantage of you like this- but it was your fault too, because you offered to help.

Mikey’s never been the type to actually study, much less complete the homework within the duration. He was just staring at the front page of his maths notebook, simply because it was there and not because he was in a dilemma with his regularly aborted schoolwork. But when you came into the room to fill up his stack of dorayaki and saw him staring, you’d realized that- oh, even a gang leader like him goes to school.

Although Mikey didn’t know what gave you the impression that he wanted to solve his studies, but you told him with that small voice of yours, ‘if you need help with that, I can help you. That’s the least I can do as a…freeloader.’

Mikey also didn’t know how he found that so unequivocally adorable- but he accepted your offer, opening up the recent pages of the notebook and ushering you to sit beside him on the sofa. And then your eyes lit up like a galaxy of iridescent bulbs, and your entire attention shifted to his papers.

Mikey could but stare, scrutinize the littlest details of your face that you hid from others. Noticing the charming color of your skin, your nose as you delicately breathe in, your lips as you over-read the question, and your generally enigmatic eyes in an abysmal expression of excitement.

Its similar to how your expression ignited up the previous day; how you clutched onto the back of his shirt with such a feeble yet determinate grip, how you ran after him and how your smile was one of the most beautiful things he’d seen. He didn’t want to show it in any way but seeing you smile with that unconcerned stretch and pure glimmer- that too because of him, made his heart skip a beat. He could keep marveling at that you for hours on end and still not be satisfied because there’s too much in you he needed to know, too much that he needed to decipher.

Mikey doesn’t even realize when he’s spared himself the freewill to keep thinking about you, about the happiness you’d shown him- if it was even real- and about the magnificent you, the you he can’t but be mesmerized by. He thinks he’s gone mad, he’s bewitched by the cow eyes he keeps showing you- but you’re too dense and too immersed into the alphabetical lines that weren’t as interesting as him, obviously. You’re too into his work and not him- why not him? And why his homework-

“Sano-kun?”

His head snaps towards you in a flare, him being utterly confused about what’s even going on because he was too busy being jealous of pen and paper. “Yes?”

“I’m almost done with this one, if you have more to solve you can bring them,” you say, twiddling the pen with your fingers.

Mikey is awe-struck, he was sure he had an innumerable amount of problems to solve in just that one notebook. But how could you finish them in such a short amount of time? The bewildered boy stumbles over the table, eyes scanning your neat and mark-less solves. You were right, you only had five or so more questions left- not too many for you but Mikey’s head somer-saulted at the sight of them.

“How are you so smart?” He’s almost screaming when he asks you that, because his simple head could not withstand such arithmetical power. What are you? A calculator?

You burst into a chuckle, your palm covering the saccharine sight of your smile. “I’m just the average student,” you reply. Mikey looks at you like he’d seen a ghost, in concrete disbelief. You wonder if he’d taken your words in a different direction; immediately waving your hands in submission, you rephrase, “O-oh, i'm not saying you're any less.”

“But I am weak in these.”

Mikey keeps his unfaltering obsidian orbs on you and sits back, his lips in a friendly pout. Your response is almost immediate when you lean close and oppose his words,

“T-that doesn't matter, does it?”

“it doesn’t, but then again I should know basic things, right?” He mumbles, retracting his eyes from you.

“It’s easy, really! All you have to do is remember a few anecdotes and formulas. Everything else falls under that, you just have to arrange them and calculate.”

Mikey’s still pouting.

You fall in visible stress, trying to figure out what you could do to brighten up his fallen ego. Your hands tap on the surface of the table a few times, the pen in your hands hitting against the wood. “Um, I could- I could show you,” you say as your last resort of uplifting him.

Mikey shifts his eyes to you and then to the papers in question. He really didn’t need to, since he’d never cared about insignificant things like this. But coming from you, it sounded too tempting. Simply by the thought that he could be involved into your little brash happiness, he couldn’t but agree.

When you scooted closer, inched nearer to him as you pointed at the scribbled numbers and letters, your voice close to him like his incoherent heartbeat- Mikey was overjoyed. Sometimes his mind faded out, and his thoughts averted to the you who was so excitedly talking about homework, and to the you who called his surname multiple times to bring him to reality.

What?

“Sano-kunn,” you drag your voice out, trying to incite any sort of reaction from him.

But it all falls into the same cycle. Mikey will not reject, he really learned a few things or two from your incessant lessons. He’s learnt about the basic formulas and the basic style of questions; heck, he’s also learnt what an acute angle is. But the most he’s learned is the corners and crevices of your expressions, the vehemence you exude, and the beauty of your aberrance.

Giving him a problem to solve, you don’t realize when your lids fall with heaviness and when you drift off to sleep too easily. Mikey, on the other hand, notices you quite instantly.

He pauses, taking in the raw image of your slumber. His hand extends to brush off a few strands that’d settled themselves on the light swell of your nose. And he smiles. It really was hard seeing you this defenseless, almost as if you won’t move even if he taps at your cheeks, if he gets incredibly closer to you and if his eyes settle on you for hours, you won’t know.

It's too tempting.

He didn’t know if it was your innocent smile that stretched farther to your eyes. Or your crinkling crescent eyes, that sparkled in the fluorescent yet illuminating moonlight – and constantly changed colors, wondrously. Or your effervescent charms that lured him into a bottomless pit. Or if it was your every little thing, that sought to be the cynosure in his naked eye.

It's too tempting.

Despite the covalent night that absorbed every shine into its never-ending black hole, he could only see lightning. The thunderbolts being the dips of your face and the space between your lips; and the clouds- the clouds were your melancholy seeping through his touch to transform into glee. He didn’t want your skin being the clouds of rain, but the clouds of sunrise and sunset and the sun showers because nothing else but happiness fitted your weather.

He’s made that a mission.

The night, the auspicious sky-haul where he kissed you- although one-sidedly- it tasted like fireworks on chocolate mud and contentment like gliding sand exploding from his lids that coalesced into clouds and wings and pastel green and

Electric and nervous.

And although he feels like he’d tarnished your vulnerability, he can’t but admit that he’s blown into the clouds too. So when he places a blanket over you and runs away, the crimson that entraps his cheeks is fluttering and warm.

And he thinks of you as he falls asleep, shrined under your clouds and hoping that the omniscient moon would keep it a secret between the two of them,

He closes his eyes, waiting for your sunrise.

part v: frantic

Your hopes were soaring.

The immense contentment you felt was too much for you to accommodate. If you started to think about how nice this- this temporary life- felt, there’d never be sufficing words. Your late-night chats with Emma led you to know that she was younger than you by a few months, and that she’d been abandoned by her mother. However, she spoke of her elder brother and her grandfather who raised her into a wonderful girl. You knew by her speech that Mikey was all she had in life and vice versa.

You might not have said much about yourself- certainly not about your deteriorating reputation- but chatting with her was a form of entertainment. Taking part in their days was as enjoyable as their optimistic company- and truth be told, you were getting so spoiled that you’d not wanted to return back to yourself.

How many times had you said this already?

“[name] chan!”

Emma bellows at you, vigorously waving from a distance. She motions for you to stay there as she links her arms with Touman’s vice-president, her brother by her side. You see her say something to Mikey and the latter nods, shooing them away with his hands. Your brows furrow in coherent confusion of what on earth were they doing.

Much to your existing confusion, Emma drags Draken by his arm, running off to- somewhere you didn’t know. Mikey, on the other hand, silently walks over to you- slightly jogging on the way. He reaches you in a few seconds, spreading his palm towards you as he says, “Come with me?”

Of course.

“What for?” you say, but grab his hand nonetheless- a little coat of blush painting your cheeks despite the summer warmth. He gives your hands a little squeeze- and you, a little smile- before he proceeds to stuff your intertwined hands into his jacket pocket. You stumble forward at the unexpected pull, but you don’t object.

“We’re going to have fun,” he grins at you, sheepishly.

The next you know, his fingers slide through yours under the coveting clothe and you’re both walking into an alleyway filled with lights and lanterns and bustling fun. There are multiple shops along the lines, each of them decorated uniquely to represent their propriety. It’s a cluster of reds, blacks and whites- luminous bulbs lighting the path along the way. You look up in amazement- it’s certainly not something you’d seen before. To be fair, you never knew a place like this existed in the outskirts of your residence.

You gleam at the shops littering your path- a variety of them being street food stalls. There were so many different delicacies decorated within the front of the stalls; a lot of them being the familiar dorayaki your escort was fond of. You don’t notice when your footsteps turn brisk out of excitement, and you dash from stall to stall- marveling at the ethnicity that splashed around in colors.

While your eyes dart towards the shops and the eventful exchange between people, harvesting the view of it all in the dazzling life of your eyes- Mikey stares, yet again.

Your hands embraced in a warm hug inside the perimeters of his pocket, his thumb brushing over the skin of your fist- Mikey feels it all, vividly. While your attention is the flight of a bee- Mikey stays still, his priority, his eyes, all on you.

Emma wasn’t wrong when she said that the most diminutive of events lighten you up.

It’s enlightening, really- Mikey thinks. It's all worth it if he gets to see that smile on your face. it really suited you, he thinks, he knows; it's such a cosmic feature to your existence- that he’s too eager to keep it on you and to never let it fall.

If only he knew that he’d already become one of your worldly weaknesses, debilitated your heart and printed a permanent smile on your face.

Mikey spots an ice-cream stall a little farther from you. Since he’s taken you out like this exquisitely on a one-sided date, he’s ought to buy you something. Adding to that, if simply watching can make you elated, maybe you’d be happier if he were to gift you something- anything. Emma did say that gifts are the pathways to a woman’s heart; cliché, he thinks, but anything for you.

“[name], I’ll be back in a second,” he excuses, detaching his fingers from yours. Mikey darts off to the ice-cream shop in the corner- leaving you to stand in the middle of festivities.

You were all alone, having lost the sight of the white-haired boy. You despised- no, hated- being alone. You try to suppress the emerging dread from within you, assuring yourself that nothing would happen, nobody would even recognize you here. The thought of such security gives you a little moment of peace, but you cannot deny that the independence his warm grip on your hands gave you was gone. You decide to simply stand by a barrier instead of blocking the road and wait.

And then you wait.

Barely five minutes into it, your stomach was churning with disquiet. It was a bad omen- you just knew it. You knew the unease you felt was nothing sort of coincidence and that something ominous was coming your way. You felt how your nerves warned you time and time again- but you were too afraid to move

As if a clear evidence of your premonitions, a hand grabs your wrist, hauling you almost forcibly. “You wench,” you hear, the voice undoubtedly familiar. You look up to see the same woman you’d seen in your home, the same woman who fed your mother lies and called you by a bunch of profanities as if you’d had no name.

“You ran away from home? How dare you!” She yells, and all the eyes are suddenly on your cowering figure beside the foul-mouthed woman. You stay silent, not wanting to feed her egotism any further- and also to not ruin your name in this lively neighborhood.

You hoped, prayed that she’d not start exclaiming to you of being sinful again.

But much to your surprise, she looks around and sees the curious eyes of the townspeople, an embarrassed air coating her own. She hitches at your arm once more, her face dangerously close as she gathers all the menace she could and says, “I’m taking you back, you dirty thing.”

∾ ∾ ∾

The scoops of chocolate chip and vanilla confetti stand scrumptiously atop one another on the waffle cone; Mikey walks with extreme caution, making sure that he’d not spill them over the road. The vibrant cones made him giddy; the way this day was planned out was almost- if not totally- akin to a couples date. And Mikey considered himself one of the most inexperienced when it came to reveling romance. However, he was actually doing something right and it unquestionably felt like a date.

He was giddy to feel yet another success at making you happy.

Mikey’s boots halt on the junctions he’d left you at, his eyes circling around the bustle in search of your gray shirt and your yellow shoes. Maybe you’d gone somewhere, he surmises. Maybe you’d been bored and decided to check some stores out.

The said boy moves forward, acutely scanning the shops and the people near him in order to specify your face among the ongoing crowd. His pace catches up a speed when he finds you nowhere- not in any crooks or crannies of the steep road. His heart picks up a similar rapidity, his brain in an electrical storm that wanted to reach you at any cost. The melting ice-cream trickles down his fingers and dribbles down to the road, but he could worry less about such an insignificant thing.

A frozen panic settles in his heart when he’s at the start of the alleyway, his brows adapting a permanent crease. The ice-cream long forgotten, he dashes back to the place he’s lost you at, rushing towards a shop owner.

His mind is in a frantic wave, and his hands tremble from the thought that you weren’t safe, that you’d fallen into danger because of him. But he tries not to show it, he could save you from anything and everything- that is if he knew your unknown location.

He questions the first shop his feet land at, describing your appearance and asking them of your whereabouts- agitated. The shop owner declines, shaking his head in apology as he says the same thing the next few said- a mediocre and unsatisfactory ‘no’. Until he asks the people from the left side of the road, beside the walls.

“A woman dragged her out. I think she’s a relative or something.”

But this lead, the only lead he’s found is just as disappointing as the rest.

∾ ∾ ∾

It hurts, you think. It hurts so much how she drags you mercilessly- as if you weren’t a living being but an inanimate object left to dust. Her grip on your wrist is ruthless, and her pace is brusque. Your hands squirm to break free from the choleric grip, break free from the ache of your wrist that swathes you and sears you in ways visually impossible to see.

You were going back.

You walk through the swarm of bodies clashing against you at every step, and walking like that- almost jogging, made you realize how close your residence was from the festivity. But you hadn’t known about it at all. The woman before you yanks you in front of your door, rigidly ramming on the doorbell like an enraged beast.

You hold your wrist with your free hand, noticing the light marks and the deep nails engraved into your skins, your greenish veins a coronary reminder of how famished you were. She stands before you like a predator in its last resort of hunting, rapacious yet monastic. The sound of her tapping heels and the unceasing tch that leaves her lips increase the dread that smothers your heart in a whole- scorning at how you were a disappointment and how still in such a situation, your thoughts scream help from a particular someone

Mikey, help me, please.

Your mind, your heart, you very being cries. Pathetic, you think. Absolutely pathetic. How could you seek help from someone so cheaply like this? Had you no dignity, no grace?

But you too, wanted to survive, wanted to be free.

It’s no surprise that when the door opens, and the woman’s mouth is in a rampage against your virtues- complaining how she’d found you wanton in the streets with her own two eyes. You knew they were lies but you daren’t talk in between because you’d not only be reprimanded but your sentence might even increase.

The next you knew, your mother grounds you within the four walls of your room that dared sunlight to seep through.

“You’re not getting to slut yourself out again.”

Your mother says, her eyes a steaming red.

You guessed temporary too, had its own limits. And maybe this was the best happiness it could offer.

part vi: you’re lucky to be alive

“Mikey!”

Mikey hears one of his squad captain call after him- a voice he knows all too well- Mitsuya. He looks behind, the collar of his jacket strewn over his shoulders. “What is it, Mitsuya?”

“I have something useful for you,” the lilac-haired captain replies, somberly nearing the latter.

Gang activities were halted for the moment because of the incredibly sour mood that became Mikey’s everyday demeanor. Thus, the gap of Touman meetings and the scattered soldiers that became a responsibility for the captains of the gang. As a childhood friend and a close comrade, it wasn’t very surprising to see Mitsuya. But Mikey had made it clear that he wanted to alone a while before- even to Draken, his vice-president that stayed with him at all times.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to hear anything,” Mikey replies, taut.

“I’m sure you don’t want to miss out on this, Mikey,” Mitsuya persists, his eyes staid in a convincing manner. Mikey stays silent, torn apart between listening and missing out because if it wasn’t about you, it wasn’t his priority. Nonetheless, the latter takes it as a sign and continues, “I know you’ve commanded everyone to not dig into this, but I think I found the actual culprit instead of --- school’s student [name],”

The resentment in Mikey’s eyes are as clear as the sky, Mitsuya thinks. It's as visible as wood in a stack of silver steels- Mikey did not like the sound of it. “A member of the second division over-heard a fellow classmate, and I did some digging on that. A classmate of [name], Akio Kitahara, who’s also a member of Riots, mass spread a rumor that [name] was selling herself out," Mitsuya pauses.

"He made it sound realistic by convincing his mother, who later informed [name]’s mother about it.”

Mitsuya takes one more look at the outright rage in his presidents manner, heaving a sigh as he concludes, “[name] was never associated with the yokohama dictators. Instead, she got severe backlash because of one rumor a school guy decided to spread around.”

“That’s it,” Mikey says, voice shrouding a fit of ravenous anger. “That’s her mystery, huh.”

“Mitsuya, we’re going hunting.”

∾ ∾ ∾

A loud whimper and knees harshly landing on the ground, along with another twist to his arms that reduces the boy to the ground- Mikey watches it all. The fourth division captain Nahoya Kawata bows curtly before him, the omnipresent grin on his face excited. He locks the boy in one place by pressing on his calves with his heeled boots and keeps a hand on his shoulder, firmly pressing.

“I brought him,” Nahoya reports. “Introduce yourself before you die I guess?” the captain kicks the boy under him, imbuing more of the fear that had already been engraved deep into his heart.

“A-Akio Kitahara! I’m in my second year of middle school at – school-”

“Nobody wants to know more,” Nahoya smacks the back of his head, his voice coming out in joyous anger. “Now, now, aren’t you the little rat that insulted the yokohama dictators?”

The boy’s eyes palpitate in sheer panic, his mouth agape to visualize his horror, “Ho-how dare I!? No, I didn’t, I swear!”

Mikey’s tch resonates through the abandoned settlement as he ominously paces towards the boy in captive. The darkness in his eyes contain a daunting anger that no one would want to be subjected to; it’s chilling and outright painful when he yanks the boy’s head by his hair- smiling threateningly when he warns, “How dare you lie right in front of me?”

The boy before him is petrified to the point that he’s about to pee his pants from the mere sight of the leader. “It was you who spread that rumor about the yokohama dictators, am I wrong?”

The boy gulps thickly, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his head. His eyes waver, cower in the tremor that’s evident. Another sharp heave from Mikey forces him to stutter, “Y-yes but it wasn’t about them, it was about the girl.”

“The girl? Who again?”

Akio’s eyes light up with the assumption that if he told them the truth and blamed it all on you, he’d be let go. Since it seemed that the gang was severely upset that he’d tainted the name of another mighty gang of yokohama of all places. Maybe it was some affiliate issues, he thought. The anticipation of impugning you and shaming your name came with a peal of maniacal quaint laughter to him, “Its-It’s a girl from my class! She was so annoyingly fake that I couldn’t bear it. She pretended so, but I knew! I knew what a slut she was,”

The ugly ‘fucking bastard’ Mikey whispers goes irrevocably unnoticed when he lands a punch on the latter’s face- unquestionably furious by how shamelessly he threw the profanity. As if someone as disgusting as him even deserved to utter your name with his pungent lips. A string of blood gushes from his nose and his face pivots with the applied force- but he’s cruelly held in place with Mikey’s grip on his hair.

The boy grumbles in pain, almost falling onto the ground when Mikey releases him. “I only did it because she got on my nerves! The audacity she had to hide her sinful deeds from everyone, I knew she was fucking around. I’m saying the truth really!”

He splutters in panic, but to Mikey it works as kerosene in fire, dispersing and burning everything along the way. “She got thrown out of her house the first night, they even believed me so easily. The bitch got what she deserved! It doesn’t even concern the yokohama-”

Another solid punch lands him straight to the floor, the side of his lips busted to reveal another cut. His eyes flutter with hardly remaining consciousness, the blood from his nose staining the soil beside Mikey’s strapped boots.

“I’ll kill you.”

Mikey’s blinded by the violent rage that dulls his eyes and numbs his senses. He’s not thinking in his right mind- or thinking at all- when his fists are a relentless force, portentous air radiating off of him like blistering smoke. It’s only been seconds but the boy is already unconscious and Mikey knows he should stop- he might actually inflict too much damage.

But this was the boy who caused you all the suffering.

The you who’s smile was like floral sunlight, you who wore joy like the most beautiful dress- your distress was caused by a little prank from a pretentious bastard.

“Mikey stop,” a pair of arms slide around his shoulder, firmly holding him back. “Get away, Ken-chin,” Mikey grits his teeth, straining against the hold of the taller. “Mikey!”

“Ken-chin, do you get what this bastard did?”

Mikey’s voice is dangerously low when he says this, and he’s looking at the taller with his emotions displayed like firewood sizzling in a hearth. Draken can’t deny, whatever the boy did was formidable and he deserved every stinging punch from Mikey, maybe from him too. But, “He’s already knocked out Mikey.”

Mikey could feel the grotesque intent inside him- kill the bastard because he deserved it. It coalesced from the top of his head to the brink of his finger and the tips of his toes. It wasn’t pure rage, nor was it a treacherous hatred- it was something of both and also something without the both. It was simply- murderous; like the gaze of a killer and his cruel scowl.

“I said I’ll kill this bastard.”

“No, you won’t,” the next he knew, Draken was dragging him across the floor and outside the space. Mikey yells in frustration, kicking his legs as he screams, “What the fuck are you doing, Ken-chin?!”

“We’re going to go see [name], I know where she is.”

Its as if Draken’s words work like witchcraft on Mikey when all his struggles halt, his scowl reduces to nothing and Mikey- the one who couldn’t be retained before- silently adheres to the taller.

“Keep him for the night!” Draken commands.

Mikey doesn’t resist when Draken plops him down on the backseat of his bike- though normally he’d have preferred to take his own bike. Mikey knew that even if he wanted to kill that guy, he simply couldn’t. Sure, he’s the unsurmountable leader of a powerful mob and he’s incredibly; painfully strong. Sure, he’s beaten a lot of guys, ridden them of their senses the moment his heels connected with their nape. Sure, he’s been ruthless and the blood on his knuckles were the sole reminder of that. But, it’s you.

It’s not his petulant desires but it’s you, your reputation on the line. Surely you didn’t want the tag of such insolence printed beside your name for the rest of your life. And he needed to be the one to remove that for you- since he’d taken it as a mission.

Maybe he’d kill that bastard after he recovers your dignity.

“He’s lucky to be alive,” he whispers against Draken’s back, somber yet uncompromising.

Oh, what misfortune awaited his fate!

When the bike stops and Mikey sees your silhouette sitting beside the window-pane with your legs pulled into your chest- softly staring and aghast; he feels as if all that adamantine rage he’d felt moments ago were reduced to fragments of it.

Seeing you wasn’t enough, he needed to confront you face to face and tell you to show the scarce emotions you’d never shown, tell you to let go of all that pent up frustration and all that misery you’d congregated inside you.

So, him being him, Mikey gets down from the bike and immediately jumps up the wall to reach your house-yard. He hears Draken call behind him but he’s already on the other side of the wall, tiptoeing to reach your window-sill. When he does, however, he grabs a pebble and throws it upwards- the small stone hitting on your window and instantly grabbing your attention.

You look downwards, noticing the Touman leader standing on the trimmed grass tethered on your lawn. You’re surprised and at the same moment alarmed, respectively. It seemed you’d underestimated the boy’s zeal and his determinate words of comfort- you grab the edge of your window, perched on the pane as you mouth him to go away.

Instead, Mikey shakes his head and adamantly tells you to hang your legs over your window and to carefully slither your head out. And then, he tells you to jump.

You knew it’s just the first floor and if you jumped, you’d surely land safely on the ground and not break a bone. However, you’ve never done this before and it imprints an opaque fear in you of- what if I fall?

Mikey stands under you and ushers you to jump, “I’ll catch you,” he says.

To say that you’d trusted him more than you trusted yourself would be the dictum of your actions; because, despite your fickle belief that you might fall, the thick assurance that he’d catch you is what prompts you to climb down the metal of your window.

He doesn’t need to catch you though.

Right when your feet touch the grass, Mikey clasps your hand in his, prodding with you in an undefined hurry. “Sano-kun?”

He gives you one brief look before he again look at the front; and you notice the spectral trace of crimson marks on his cheeks in the impeding darkness. “Come with me,” he replies.

You’d already found your answer in his conviction when he tells you that; because, upon stars and skies, you’d definitely walk his footsteps and follow his trail if he asks you to. To you, it’s safety and protection; to you, it’s comfort and vulnerability. While you didn’t know what it was to him, you knew you’d never hesitate.

He signals you to climb atop the wall as he slithers his hand around your waist, swiftly pulling you up. He instructs you to grab onto the top of the wall and to lift one leg onto it to secure yourself. His fingers slide past your hips when you do so and you’re quite literally dangling half past the walls. A little dread fills up your expression when you feel your weight balancing on the narrow surface.

A light-like shadow flashes past from the corner of your eyes and suddenly, Mikey’s on the ground, knees bent to support his fall. Then, he extends both of his arms towards you, looking you in the eye as he tells you to jump, I’ll catch you.

He really had blood smeared on his cheeks.

With the blind trust you provided yourself, you throw your legs off the wall and jump. It wasn’t scary, to say the least, nor was it anything daring because true to his words, Mikey catches you instantly, his bruised knuckles gliding around your midriff ever so slowly; and your arms wrap around his neck- tightly. In the short moment when he engulfs you into him, you feel him burying his nose into your hair- a shaky breath cascading through the gaps of your hair as if he’d had devastation etched into his petals.

You whisper a quiet thank you beside his ears as he slowly puts you down. He doesn’t hold you any longer as he dashes forward to where his vice-president had been standing, his bike parked by his side. “I’m taking your bike, Ken-chin,” Mikey says, hauling you onto the back seat. You offer Draken a curt bow as a greeting- not being able to properly say hello because Mikey was already on the vehicle and powering up the engine.

A loud echo of the engine and a gust of gas fires up behind you. Mikey twists the accelerator and speeds up right when he takes off, much to your surprise. The sudden speed forces you to impetuously wrap your arms around him to steady your weight. It’s almost the highest pace you’ve ever gone with him, and the chilly wind of the night hits at your bare arms. It's cold and that too, shivering cold. The warmth of his back doesn’t provide your arms any, so you try to keep still even with the goosebumps that cover your skin.

You knew the roads he was passing by, it’s the same road that led towards the park you’d always head to. Though you wondered why, in the falling evening, he decided to take you there. But you’d trusted him enough to know he’d never cause you any discomfort.

If it was him and the lenient ‘come with me’, you’d never have any doubts.

When you reach the place, he courteously takes your hand and despite the fast pace he’d hurried at, his steps right now were considerably slow. The moonlight had begun to bestow its pathways and Mikey carefully walks you to the tree in the middle where he releases the tender hold. You imitate him as he sits down, quietus covering you both in its encompassing cave.

“Um, Sano-kun?” you speak first, trying to peer into his downcast face. You soon notice the blood on his knuckles, the same hands that’d held yours so frugally- as if acknowledging your fragility with a vow to never hurt you. But it was for his closest allies only, you realized. He wasn’t as thoughtful with others, especially people who pissed him off. But, it must’ve hurt, you think. It must’ve hurt him even if he was the offender.

You take his bruised hand into yours, your fingers brushing ever so lightly on the dried blood. “Does it…Does it hurt?”

Mikey somberly shakes his head as a no. it can’t possibly hurt when you’re caressing it this lovingly, he thinks. It can’t hurt at all when the one he’d beat up is that disgusting bastard. But it hurts when you look saddened by it, turning his ache into yours when you tell him to avoid hurting himself. No, his skin, his bones, and his flesh don’t hurt at all, but his heart, oh the pain- he never wants to be clouded by such hurt.

To think you’d made this pain your destiny was even more distressing.

“Please take care of yourself, Sano-kun,” you begin, “I don’t like the idea of you getting injured, it worries me all the time.”

“What about you?” Mikey comes off as a little harsh when he says this, and the regret kicks in immediately afterward. He wonders why you were worried over his measly injuries that can’t even equivalent to an ant-bite, when the hurt you bore beneath your façade was larger than his ever would be. “Why,”

“Why were you so quiet about it?”

Mikey’s eyes are as expressive as the nocturnal sky as his hand pins you to the tree behind. Hurt, betrayal; the emotions you could never express, and the emotions you’ve always abolished in a carafe far far beneath- unable to foster, unable to express. Looking into his opulent eyes, you wondered if he was angry on your behalf, or upset on your behalf; or maybe he was flourishing a sea-gust of emotions because you simply wouldn’t.

“Didn’t you feel wronged? Or angry? Or frustrated?”

His eyes peer straight into yours, scanning and scrutinizing for any kind of reaction. He’s telling you to express, not to suppress, so a part of you dissolves at melting point and a thin coat of moist glosses your eyes. “Nobody would believe me, Sano-kun. It really didn’t matter whether I was angry or not, or whether I was suffering or not. At the end of the day, it’s me who has to accept because…no one,” you pause, brushing a stray strand of his hair from his forehead, “No one will believe me.”

He stays quiet for a few seconds and lowers his eyes, the moonlight so silent that the subtle rhythm of your breathing became almost audible. You see the outline of his lips hesitate, as if mouthing the myriad of thoughts into one coherent sentence was tough for him.

He stares into your orbs again, determination dancing in the hues of eyes as he says, “Let me,” a deep breath, “Let me make sure that doesn’t happen.”

The way he looks at your eyes has your resolve shuddering, cracking- that you feel your insides suddenly imbued with feelings- and not the deafening numbness that arrayed you in its guard.

He then softly pulls your head onto his chest- as if he too, was breaking along with you. But he didn’t want you to witness that- the only evidence of his vulnerability being his turbulent heartbeat.

“It’s going to be okay in the end, because if it’s not okay then it’s not the end,” he says.

“Is that so?” your voice comes out in a light smile, relishing in his soothing words. It's inexplicably warm in his embrace, so much like the home you’ve always wondered about. But now that you feel it in yourself- it’s so embracing and welcoming that you never want to leave.

“So, don’t lose trust in yourself, don’t accept those allegations so easily. Hold on just a bit more because I’ll hunt down anyone and everyone that tarnished your name and make sure they’re begging before you on their knees. I’ll make sure you get your innocence, and your life back.”

The smile that adorns your lips is of ecstasy, you’re gliding deeper into his warmth because it just feels so assuaging how he’s guaranteeing your freedom. Where was he all this time? you think. Maybe if you’d met him sooner, you wouldn’t have lost your faith, or your optimism, or the emotions that made you human like everyone else.

But now, you looked forward to getting them back- since his mere presence brings your susceptibility. Your arms snake around his waist, not fully holding him but clutching onto the fabric of his shirt, grateful as you say, “Can you?”

He holds you tighter, “For you, more than a hundred times.”

You close your eyes and a tear trickles down your cheek, tracing the curve of your smile as you heave a breath of relief- freeing your weight onto him. “Thank you,” you say, “Thank you, Manjiro.”

And then after a few seconds, when he pulls you back and inches dangerously close to your face, your fingers fist tauter onto his shirt. And when he whispers above the curvature of your lips, quaint and low enough that the tree-branches wouldn’t be able to hear, “Can I kiss you?” he says; and your heart commences a marathon and your eyes widen in surprise, your heart galloping in long strides the closer his breath fans the top of your lips, yet you nod- yet you whisper a similar ‘yes’ against his lips.

At first it’s the closed eyes, the audible inhalations, and a simple peck. Then he tenderly places a palm on your cheek and your lips hover above each other’s like the wings of a wandering butterfly until they just barely brush- a soft bristle stroke of the finest artwork- a soft touch and a new word and then. Then you look into his eyes for just a damn second- his coruscating orbs once beyond the understanding now so translucent with words and poems and writers glee that you decipher his literature faster than he expects. And then it’s you diving into his miridical touch- breaths into mouth and teeth against tongue. You know you’re both inexperienced and newbies to the art of love but the way he’s guiding you so easily into a rhythm of explosions make you feel like you’ve always matched his pace and that you’ve always

Been in his mind.

You listened to his heartbeat like an oak tree listening to the crickets of the night- enhanced and so much close that you wondered if the grassroots are closer to insubstantial soil or if it’s you- if it’s you who’s closer to the descant of the earth and his very much walloping heart.

And when he engulfed you closer it felt like the scattered and battered emotions which were like ground peppercorn in the wind that spun and spun and spun till you knew tears and isolation and nothing else- suddenly gathered into this one dollop of encrusted sphere. You could never say this out loud, but touching him was fucking electric; and when he tucked your head in the junction between his shoulder blades and his ear- you were so sure that the skin of his nape was either a meadow or a sand dune and it just felt so right but

It didn’t matter anyway because you were stuck there and you needn’t know the littlest fleapit of escape from here.

part vii: final confession.

It feels like you’d woken up from a long-lasting fairytale the moment your lids kiss the sunlight. A smile immediately greets your face, and for the first time in forever, you stretch your body under the blankets, the absolute feeling of happiness still lingering in the smallest pieces around you.

But your peace was very short-lived when you hear a loud commotion outside, a crowd of voices, and marching footsteps echoing in your neighborhood. It sounded like bad news, the loud cheer and autocratic thuds creating a contentious atmosphere.

You immediately scram towards the window, your eyes widening as you see the crowd of Touman members parading through the thin roads. They enclosed the entire space of the roads as they walked, their hollers a prime warning that they held authority over the streets- or so, the leader of Touman held the utmost position; which meant, do not defy him.

At the very front, you see Mikey- the boy you’d kissed just last night, the same boy that held your strengthless hands and promised you happiness- dragging the body of another boy by his collar. Behind him walked Draken, hands clasped at the back and the Touman captains following right after. You realized that this, this heavily swarming gathering, was the entirety of Touman, the strongest gang of Tokyo. Even the captains and vice-captains tagged along with their commander- presenting that it was just that much of a big deal. People from all of the buildings hooded over their window-panes and watched in consternation. Some even came out to the front of their doors but daren’t object the flock of Touman.

It proved just how powerful they were, how much authority they carried that even the influential people wouldn’t dare infiltrate their business.

A little farther, you see a woman- a familiar face, one you’d seen with your mother- running out of her building as she exclaims in fear, “My- my son!”

Your eyes drag forwards as they reach a more spacious area, and Mikey harshly throws the boy on the floor. “It’s Tokyo Manji Gang!” he screams, stomping his foot atop the boy’s back. The entire Touman follows his lead, chanting excitedly.

The boys’ mother bellows even more, but her feet remain glued to the ground, the horror still evident in her eyes. You see Mikey reclining his booted heels, his head uplifted to meet the eyes of the woman.

Right then you hear your doorbell ring and a hurdle of boot-steps reverberating on your concrete floors. And then your bedroom door bursts open, revealing two boys in the black-yellow Touman uniform. “Miss [name], please come with us,” one of them pleads.

You walk outside behind them, your family members, your mother, watching as you trod down the floor. You give your mother one last glance before you head out, one last look before you're about to go through an adventure.

The boys lead you safely to the front, right where Mikey and the bloodied culprit were. Seeing his face actually shocks you, despite all the wrongs he’s done. He looked pathetic and repulsive, more than you ever were.

You know you shouldn't feel strangely glad, but it's involuntary.

Draken comes forward as he lurches the boy’s head by his hair, forcing him to kneel before you- the sole victim of his deeds- then he commands, “Confess!”

Hold on just a bit more because I’ll hunt down anyone and everyone that tarnished your name and make sure they’re begging before you on their knees.

The boy cowers furiously, shaking in desperation, “I’m so sorry! I framed y/f/n from [..] high school! I-I, whatever I said is a lie!”

So, don’t lose trust in yourself, don’t accept those allegations so easily.

“Get to the point,” Draken threatens, smacking him behind his head.

I’ll make sure you get your innocence, and your life back.

“Everything I said about her being a fucking prostitute and being adulterated is a lie! I’ve never even seen her go outside of her house, much-much less a brothel! I spread the word,” the boy is undoubtedly terrified, and the vice-captain of Touman pulling on his hair did less than help.

“Louder!” Draken hollers, pulling harder.

The boy whimpers, creasing his eyes as he screams, louder than ever, “I committed a sin! I lied about her, please forgive me!”

That’s when Draken releases his hold, his head pulsing forward arbitrarily. His mother comes willowing the moment the latter steps back, holding her son in her arms. It comes to Touman as a shock when she screams, “A-aren’t you being too harsh on him? All he did was spread a little lie-”

Draken’s menacing hiss shuts her up and your nerves hike up your throat when he attempts to step forward. However, Mikey holds up a hand, and walks in front instead. It doesn’t look the least bit consoling when Mikey looks down at her in sheer disgust- terrifyingly repulsed at her complaint.

“A little lie?” he begins, his voice the incarnation of downright peril. “Are you kidding me?”

“Your poor little boy ruined the life of a simple school girl," Mikey says, soulless. "Your son’s little lie had a girl outcaste from society, not to mention how his little lie made her family abandon her at what age? Now tell me, would you fancy a life like that?” Mikey was raging, his voice so menacingly low that you couldn't but notice the rasp in it.

His mere presence was loomed by the anger of darkness, flaming with repugnance and aversion. “Do you want me to make that happen to you?”

The woman doesn’t say another word, simply looking down to avoid the gang-leader’s gaze.

“The girl you’ve pointed to as a disgrace is in my protection!” He dictates, tenor surging a massive chant of affirmation from the Touman members, “I dare you to inferior an innocent person any further!”

“I suggest you keep your son in safety because the actual yokohama dictators really don’t like getting false words spread about them,” Mikey says as last sign of warning as he turns around and commands the gang to retreat, the unified steps of valor now changing their direction.

Mikey doesn’t look at you once before he walks off to the front of their march, and you don’t deny that it hurt you a little. The invincible Mikey brought forth his entire gang to prove the innocence of someone as mundane as you, but doesn’t spare you a single look. You thought if he’d simply took it as a responsibility to get you your reputation back- even though it’s natural, you can’t help but feel a little sting in your heart when you think the feelings he’d shown in his eyes could be pity and nothing deeper than that.

“May I escort you back?” a placid voice behind you says, making you turn around. Even for a split second, you hoped it’d be him, it’d be the one you were aching to lock eyes with; but it’s the second division captain instead. With his lilac short hair and generous eyes, he appeared very safe and reliable- maybe that’s why Mikey’s sent him instead.

“Y-yes,” you reply, following him as he guides the way. Even though you knew every nook and cranny of the neighborhood, suddenly it felt like you knew nothing. Not with the residents not scorning your name at every second and the silent guilt that permeated the air- you felt like this wasn’t your neighborhood.

It feels rather strange that you won’t be receiving the same treatment anymore. You wonder if your mother will restore her trust in you too, though the thought of her apologizing didn’t sit well with you.

The moment you get home, the door opens at the first knock and the resentful eyes that you were used to seeing weren’t there, they were replaced with one of apologies and repentance. However, your mother doesn’t apologize to you- god bless you because you hadn’t no clue how you’d handle that if she did- instead she welcomes you into the house.

You aren’t greeted with that stare of disgrace, or the muteness of loathing- you were welcomed into the house like any other daughter. You weren’t forced into the confines of your room anymore, nor were you enslaved like a criminal hostage.

That day, your mother gave you the larger piece of the pie and cooked your favorite dish as an evening snack- which you knew was too heavy for a light meal. She didn’t come to check in the middle of the night, nor did she shut the lights off at 11 pm.

The next morning she came to your room and asked you if you wanted meat with your lunch, she packed the box with a soft embroidered clothe and kept it in your back. And when you got ready to leave for school she told you to be careful and to look out for danger on the way. She told you “Goodbye, dear. Be safe,” and you grinned at her like an exultant child because it's been so long since she’d done that and you knew; you knew that was her discreet way of expressing her regrets.

It’s not always in the words but the actions that represent the words- you thought. It felt like you were back in those childhood days where you hadn’t been subjected to a random rumor. There were still changes and differences that could not be undone, because no matter how much you try some things change for the better. However, the little changes that made into your view- were immense.

It was enough- no, more than enough- that you’d received back a fraction of your bliss. And it's all thanks to that one white-haired boy with his black jacket sprawled over his shoulder blades; who decided to unveil the mysteries of your eyes- and turn that melancholy into joy.

You’d never thought he’d make it come true.

finale

“Look, it’s [name]”

“She’s kinda pretty,”

“Dude don’t look at her like this, didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“She’s Touman’s Mikey-kun’s girlfriend.”

Albeit the whispers around you chided different words, but they were still looming around you like insects. And to be honest, you too, were confused about it. You never remembered agreeing to a relationship with the said boy, though your answer was as predetermined as a guess. But you never announced it officially that you’d been dating Sano Manjiro of all people.

You guessed it was a phantom fear among them that if they offended the mighty and adored Mikey’s girlfriend, their fate would meet his fists- that ensured. So the people made way for you and didn’t dare look into your eyes when you walked through the road to your institution. The respect that suddenly bloomed was uncanny to you; you can’t say that you disliked it, but you just weren’t used to it.

“It's Mikey!”

“Lower your heads, bow if you see him!”

“Draken looks so scary.”

“Silently walk dude.”

The hushed panic makes its way into your ear, making you look up to scan around the area for the person in question. And there he was, right in front of your school gate with a dorayaki in his hands, pleasingly chewing. You almost jog over to him with fearful curiosity.

Just what has he done, you think.

Your feet reach his territory in a hurry and he looks up, his prepossessing dark eyes meeting yours in an anticipated rendezvous. He smiles brightly, with a limpid excitement that doesn't go unnoticed by you- shaking the little resolve you’d grown on the way of scolding him.

You can't.

You can’t help how it all crumbles down into multifarious pieces, his grin and the little crumbs of bread beside his lips the sole culprit. “What are you doing here?” You ask in an exaggerated whisper, peering at him.

“Just wanted to see you, that's it.”

He says that as if it were the most casual and customary thing ever, shooting you a very much unpredicted coquettish wink. You falter greatly, your eyes squinting to pragmatize yourself because, did he just wink at you?

“Can’t I come to see my girlfriend?”

Your heart jumps into a tumultuous horizon- girlfriend, he says. “But I-”

“Come to with me,” these words, these three words you’ve submerged your heart to, halt you from the sea of questions you were about to throw him.

Come with me

Trust me

I trust you too

“Always,” you say, letting your hands fall onto his, letting your fingers entwine in an unbreakable knot and letting yourself into the happiness you wish never to lose.

It seemed like a divine miracle that someone you'd never have thought to be associated with turned into your greatest pleasure. The world an imminent distraction with the time adhering into a conspiracy against your every wishes, gleaming at the abomination you'd caused yourself.

He was your ephemeral salvation. An acute path of escape, from the atrocities of the universe that envied your blasphemous destiny and the ravaging ethics of your very being.

Before you knew it, you enjoyed your abbreviate alone times, thought of him after every hour, desired to see the smile on his face in your free time. Albeit every trivial desire were discreet, concealed and inclined from deep within you, but you couldn’t help giving into what were worldly fantasies for you.

Just a little more, just one more look, one more second, one more touch.

You daren't deny, that was the best decision you've ever made in your life.

"Come with me."

~end~

guys, i'm done, i'm dead.

[aropride]

‣ exile arc

↳ a breakdown of the songs on my c!tommy exile arc playlist! all the songs are in chronological order :] all /rp, of course

playlist link!

run boy run - woodkid

tomorrow is another day / and you don't have to hide away / you'll be a man, boy / but for now, it's time to run, it's time to run

↳ i see this as the very beginning of exile, when c!tommy is still fighting. he's still running, he's refusing to throw his items in the hole, he's still joking around. he's not beat down yet.

good kid - the lightning thief

i never try to do anything / i never mean to hurt anyone / i try, i try to be a good kid, a good kid / a good son / but no one ever will take my side / all i ever do is take the fall / i swear, i swear that I'm a good kid / guess i'm good for nothing at all

↳ he never meant to hurt anyone. he didnt even mean to burn george's house, just to put up signs and netherrack. and now he's taking the fall for something he never meant to do.

art is dead - bo burnham

i must be psychotic, i must be demented / to think that i'm worthy of all this attention

↳ this is his mental health beginning to fail. maybe after the first or second time dream makes him give up his armor/tools and maybe he's thinking he's not good for much at all anymore.

be nice to me - the front bottoms

there is very little left of me and it's never coming back & but you're a killer / and i'm your best friend

↳ tommy says he's going to feel "very very lonely" & knows things are going to get worse. and he's right, things do get worse. but he has dream. and dream might be an awful person. but he's his only friend at this point, right?

sweet hibiscus tea - penelope scott

and i'm not your protagonist, i'm not even my own / i don't know anything, i don't even know what i don't know / and if you look outside, you'll see disintegrating trees / the artificial way the sunlight bounces off the waxy leaves

↳ he's getting worse. things don't seem quite as real anymore, and he feels foggy. he feels like he's wandering in circles in the plains because, well, he is.

no children - the mountain goats

and i hope when you think of me years down the line / you can't find one good thing to say / and i'd hope that if i found the strength to walk out / you'd stay the hell out of my way / i am drowning / there is no sign of land

↳ although not all of the song fits (the marriage part specifically lol), it is essentially about a toxic relationship. tommy hopes that if he runs away dream won't chase him. every morning he wakes up in the ocean and has to swim back to shore.

i deserve to bleed - sushi soucy

i punish my body 'cause it's not good enough for me / the scary thoughts are spreading like a weed / the thoughts that say that i deserve to bleed & they say that it gets better, but i guess that was a lie / i guess we all just fake it 'til we die

↳ he's stopped taking care of himself. he's missing a shoe, his clothes are torn, he's missing or not even attempting easy mlg's. he's staring out at pits of lava.

pluto - sleeping at last

still i'm pinned under the weight / of what i believed would keep me safe / so show me where my armor ends / show me where my skin begins

↳ i like to take this lyric literally- i like to imagine him frantically making armor early in the morning so he can feel safe even for just a couple hours of his day. once exile ends, i imagine it'd be hard for him to take off his armor for quite a while.

hast thou considered the tetrapod - the mountain goats

and then i'm awake and I'm guarding my face / hoping you don't break my stereo / because it's the one thing that i couldn't live without / and so i think about that and then i sorta black out

↳ what's a tommy playlist without a music disc reference? he can't live without his discs & dream is constantly trying to take them.

look who's inside again - bo burnham

well, well, look who's inside again / went out to look for a reason to hide again / well, well, buddy, you found it

↳ this is when he really starts to collapse into himself. every time he tries to talk to people (like when he tries to go to l'manberg for christmas) he's shot down, he's forced to stay alone, isolated, under threat of being chased and hit with an axe until he loses his final life.

my r - lollia

for the very first time, there i see / someone with the same pains as me / having done this time and time again / she wore a yellow cardigan

↳ i see this as one of the final days before his attempt, when he's shooting himself with arrows. he's not going to do it yet. but he's going to think about it.

i cant handle change - roar

i can't help but repeat myself, "i know it's not your fault" / Still lately i begin to shake for no reason at all

↳ he's trying to convince himself it's not his fault. and as the viewer, we know it's not. but it's hard for him to remember that when he's shaking and terrified and dream is telling him it's all his fault.

hear me - imagine dragons

maybe if i fall asleep, i won't breathe right / maybe if i leave tonight, i won't come back & can nobody hear me? / i've got a lot that's on my mind / i cannot breathe / can you hear it too?

↳ this song reminds me of one of my other blorbos, in full honesty, and that's why i picked it originally. but the lyrics fit as well, portraying someone who's really, really struggling & believes no ne can hear them and nobody cares to try.

achilles come down - gang of youths

won’t you get up off, get up off the roof? / you’re scaring us and all of us, some of us love you & (ce, qu'on appelle une raison de vivre est en même temps une excellente raison de mourir) & how you will heal and you’ll rise above

↳ this is him on the tower. "some of us love you"- him looking at the photo of tubbo, remembering someone who cared about him. the french, which translates to "what one calls a reason to live is also often an excellent reason to die" - i relate that to how he feels about his "only friend dream." maybe some people would stay alive for their only friend. for him, it's more reason to jump. "how you will heal and you'll rise above" could easily be about how he feels at the end of the disc war finale, when he's flying above everyone with the trident and cheering.

& so self-indulgent and self-referential / no audience could ever want you / you crave the applause yet hate the attention / then miss it, your act is a ruse / it is empty, achilles, so end it all now / it's a pointless resistance for you & you will not be more than a rat in the gutter

↳ part 2 of this song. i see these lines as how dream talks to him and how tommy begins talking to himself. additionally, dream often dehumanizes tommy by comparing him to animals -- the "rat in the gutter" line resonates strongly with that piece of the story.

camisado - panic at the disco

the bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake & can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid / sit back, relax, sit back, relapse again

↳ this is him falling into the water, him choosing to live. dream tried his best to take his will to live but it's still there, he's still alive, and he's covered in physical reminders of what dream did.

the foundations of decay - my chemical romance

you must fix your heart / and you must build an altar where it rests

↳ this is tommy on the tower deciding to live. this is him getting up & rising from the ruins of logstedshire & running.

class of 2013 - mitski

can i sleep in your house tonight? & i'll leave once i figure out how to pay for my own life too

↳ tommy asking techno if he can stay with him. or, to be fair, not asking, but just moving in. he asks techno to help him just this once.

rat - penelope scott

i loved you, i loved you, i loved you, it's true / and sometimes i feel like i still fuckin' do / i lived here, i loved here, i bought it, it's true / i'm so embarrassed, i feel abused / i feel so used

↳ dream made him feel like he was his friend, & now he's out of exile and he knows it was all to condition him to trust dream.

freaks - surf curse

i dream of you almost every night / hopefully i won't wake up this time

↳ tommy after exile. he's looking for friends, he's looking for a support system. & he's also struggling w ptsd from what dream did, and passive suicidality as well.

[weclassygirl]

𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐭

Word count: +3.1k

Pairing: santino d’antonio x f!reader

Warnings: violence per usual

Author’s note: a bit late with the update but at least it’s not a year long gap. hope you enjoy nonetheless!

dulce periculum series: 07 / ...

Gif credits (x)

Caterina can land a mean punch - is what you first learned at Camorra and currently feel through as you land on the floor, holding onto your stomach. 

“Get up, I’m not done with you yet.” she says, her inked arms stretching above her head. It became a routine of some sorts, you would train with Caterina in the morning, occasionally switching up with other Guards. On some occasions even Santino would show up, preferably standing in the doorway, watching people train, just like he does now. 

His head moves up from his phone and towards the training area where you and Caterina spar. You get up from the ground, feeling the ever watchful eyes of the Italian. You charge at the woman, landing a hit to her side, she grabs your arms before it can make a full impact, trying to throw you off balance. You lean to the side, hoping to throw her off with the weight of your body. You succeed, almost. Caterina flawlessly retreats from the movement that would toss over most people, supporting herself on her arms as her back follows to the front, her feet softly touching the mat. Another circus trick as you’ve come to learn. 

Before Camorra, Caterina used to travel with a circus, left it with 6 other girls, far younger than her when she learned that the boss was abusing them. You’ve noticed that the rest of the Guard had similar stories. All of them were taken or rather offered a job by Camorra after some event in their lives. 

Andre with his illegal street racing. Luca as an ex-government employee. Spirto that hacked into the Pentagon, which he won’t reveal any details about. Little shit. Ben who used to fight in underground rings. And Sonya who survived by being a thief in Morocco. 

All of them unique in their own ways, exactly what Camorra was looking for. 

“You have to try a bit harder, Jade.” she says with her back turned to you.

And you do. 

You quickly run at her and aim for her legs, your footsteps light as a feather even while running. Caterina ends up on the ground, propping herself up on her elbows as you squat down a few feet behind her. She looks towards you, if looks could kill, but the gaze is quickly replaced by a smirk. 

“Finally.” she gets up and clasps her hands. “Wanna go again?”

“I think my back would kill me if I did.” you say as your hand softly goes over the wounded area. She nods at you and leaves the mat. You walk to the doorway, slowing down as you see Santino putting down his phone.

“Few more training and you might even join the Guard.” he says and you furrow your brows. Before you can say anything you hear footsteps next to you. Spirto and Ben. 

“As if she isn’t a part of it now.” the latter acknowledges. 

“Don’t rile her up, she might think she’s higher on the food chain than us.” Spirto teases and you give him a jab with your elbow. The hacker smiles and salutes you as he walks away. 

Ben turns to you. “Don’t worry, even if the Council doesn’t approve of you rising up in the hierarchy we’ll still take you on some missions.”

“Some?” you ask.

Santino speaks up this time. “They wouldn’t be able to take you on all of them. The Council might get suspicious.” You nod at his statement. 

The Council is still a bit reluctant about you joining Camorra, especially now after your meeting with the Elder. You believe that if someone was to find out about your deal with him, they would know it first. Well, maybe the Bowery King would actually know first, he and his people run not only in New York, sometimes it’s scary how far his power can reach. 

Ben bids you both goodbye and you’re left with Santino. He asks you to take a walk with him and you accept. After a quick change from your training clothes, you meet up with Santino outside. Both of you walk through the Camorra property, entering the vast garden. You see some people tending to the flowers, the garden’s in full bloom. 

You pick up various topics, from the basic “how was your day” to the constant one “how are you finding yourself here”. You still haven’t found a way back home, hours spent in the library, doing research on nearly every topic that might have some relevance to your problem go by with no results. The answer to the question is however always the same. 

“Good, still adjusting, trying to survive in a world from a movie series.” 

You sometimes catch yourself missing it. Home. Or whatever you could call it. The small apartment you were renting couldn’t really classify as home. There was no warmth in it, no pleasant memories, only constant routine that never seemed to change. 

The two of you walk through an arch and stay by a small pond, some fishes swimming in it. Santino turns to you with a question on his lips. 

“Do you trust me?” it comes off as a surprise to you. For a moment you panic but try not to show it. Did he- 

You try not to worry about what he might have meant by that and answer nonetheless. “I do.”

He hums in confirmation. “But, why are you asking me that?” you question him. 

He seems to think for a moment before his eyes focus on a spot in the water. “You’ve been here 2 years already, with no way of going back home, nor being close to finding it.” 

It feels like a punch in the gut, the hopelessness of not finding the solution to your never ending problem. But the Italian doesn’t mean to make it sound like that, it’s not an accusation, just a simple statement.

“I’d prefer to know that you can trust me so I can return that trust.” his gaze shifts from the pond to you, a light breeze flowing through some unruly curls on his head. 

“And do you?”

“Yes.” you relax at that answer, but feel bad for it. You’re lying to him, the moment you got back from the desert you’ve been lying to him, whether it’s about your stay there and even this. A simple question regarding your trust towards the Italian, to Camorra even. 

You dread the day he might find out about the deal, the tasks the Elder has been giving you. You try not to think much about it but the weight of it still remains. 

The next few days are the same, wake up, train, get ready for the mission or some new contract. You’ve been switching between missions and the tasks from the High Table like crazy, working on barely a few hours of sleep and exhaustion looming in your body. Even your night visits to Santino’s office had subdued. You hope that the Italian might see it as you being too tired from the contracts, maybe even some relief that you get some sleep at night without a problem of nightmares suddenly waking you up. 

You get back from one of the contract missions to a message on your bed. You know what it is before you even pick it up. This time it’s just a meeting point with one of the messengers for the High Table. 

You sneak out of the mansion as quickly and quietly as you can, you make sure that no one follows you when you arrive at the spot. A man waits by the car and gets inside it, you follow him and sit in the backseat. He passes you a note. 

Mikael Nieve

A small picture attached to it shows a heavy built man, short haircut and slight stubble on his face. There are some traces of white hair in the haircut. 

“Does he have any security on him?” you ask the driver. 

“Two with him, two outside of the booth and three keeping an eye out on the hallway where his room is.” he tells you and starts the car. 

You arrive at the hotel and immediately head to the restaurant. It’s a large venue but there’s so many tables that it looks clustered together. The barman gives you a look as you walk past and towards Mikael’s table. Some people already sit by it but you don’t see your target. Some of them give you a quick glance as you slow down your footsteps but you don’t falter and head straight to the bathrooms. He’s not there either. You think for a moment and head towards the hotel rooms. 

You look out for the security men with him and just like the driver said, you see three of them circling around the hallway. One of them stands by the door while the other two walk back and forth at the ends of the hallway. The red haired man notices you and starts walking towards you. 

“Miss, this area is unavailable to other guests. Please head back or use the elevator to-”

He doesn’t finish the sentence as a bullet hits his throat. His body buckles to the ground, bloody red hand moving down from his neck. The other men hear the thud of the body, one runs up to you, gun in his hand, the other enters the hotel room, trying to get Mikael out. The man fires and the bullet grazes you in the arm, you fire back, hitting the man in the hip. He charges at you and you knock the gun out of his hand, from the corner of your eye you see Mikael being hidden by the other guard’s body. You shot the gun at the man in front of you, his body slowly falling down to the ground as your focus is completely directed to Mikael. 

The guard sees you and tries firing the gun but don’t give him a chance as the bullet enters his head. You set your eyes on the target and fire, an empty clicking sound following. No more bullets. The man grins and runs at you. 

You dodge him and move to the door of his room, better to take the fight somewhere away from unwanted eyes. Both of you enter the room, dodging each other’s attacks. The man slams you to the wall, his hand on your throat, squeezing as hard as he can. The oxygen slowly runs out, your hand goes to the side of your thighs, reaching for the small knife concealed in there. You get a hold of it and slice at the hand holding your throat. The man backs away and you push him through the bathroom door, his body on the ground. You move to give one last blow but the man switches places with you and lifts you up, slamming your body on the mirror. Shards and broken pieces of glass falling to the floor. 

The man heaves as you try to get up. “Give my regards to whoever set up the contract.” his hand flies up, ready to deliver the final blow. You scatter on the ground, fiddling to find some new weapon. You take a hold of one of the broken pieces from the floor and plunge it in his neck. A trickle of blood runs from the wound on his neck and from his mouth, a scarlet hand reaches out to you, leaving a print on your shoulder. 

You look over to the man, light escaping from his eyes before giving away his last breath. You sit there for a moment, heart racing, wounds and bruises created in the process making themselves known. Your body seems to move on his own, hand reaching into your pocket, a shattered screen of the phone lighting up. You dial a number and hesitate. Can you trust the old man not to say anything? You opt not to and call the driver instead. 

With a weak voice you say “I need a reservation for four.” the other side hangs up. You stand up from the floor and stride to the hallway. The three men lay perfectly still on the floor, blood seeping into the carpet. You curse under your breath and bring them into the room, one by one. 

A quarter passes before you hear a knock on the door. You reach out to the gun, the magazine already replaced with a new one. You open the door and sigh when seeing the familiar face of the driver. You move aside, letting the men he brought with him work. They clean everything up rather quickly, still precize like Charlie’s men. The hallway is taken care of too, leaving nothing to ponder about when walking the hallways. You turn to the driver, anger slowly rising on your face. “I want to talk to him.” 

He knows who you’re talking about. He shakes his head and scoffs. “You can’t just demand something like that.” 

“This wasn't part of the deal.” 

“And what was it exactly? You’re bound to the High Table, you can’t alter the deal he gives you. Just follow orders or I’ll gladly put a bullet through your head.” he warns you and passes you, leaving you alone in the room, the scent of cleaning detergents in the air. What did I get myself into? you think while leaving the room. You enter the car, driver only giving you some change of clothes, eyes focused on the road. You change into the running clothes and exit the car as you reach the mansion. The driver says nothing, not informing about any new task that will come soon. You’re left in the driveway and run to the mansion. 

There are few guards stationed outside, they nod at you as you run by and into the building. Some sweat clinging to your skin, made a few laps so that you keep up the cover up story. You walk up the stairs, heading into your room but see the light coming from Santino’s office. You hesitate but knock on the door. 

You walk in, seeing the Italian looking over some papers, another deal probably. He looks up at you from them, a lazy smile with a hint of surprise on his face. “I was wondering where you went off to. Your room was empty.” he observes but the small paranoia cripples up your spine. Why was he in your room? He seems to notice your silent question. “I was walking by, usually you have your light on at this hour, that wasn’t the case tonight so I wanted to make sure that at least one of us got some good night sleep.”

You believe him and walk over to the desk. “I went running. Thought that maybe some exercise will tire me out, help me fall asleep.” 

“So then, a new technique for insomnia?”

“In its experimental stage.” you sit by his side, one of the chairs still there in case you come in. A small change in his office since you’ve arrived in his world, a pleasant one too, comforting. “What’s all this?” you gesture to the stack of papers spread on the desk. He’s been working non stop on the deals with other countries, shipments that needed to go through, blackmails, especially now as the Head. 

“Overdue deal with the Germans. They’re getting restless, and soon so will I.” he chuckles weakly. The bags under his eyes evident, hair not so elegantly slicked, few loose curls falling on his forehead. 

“You should rest.”

“I should finish this. Get it over with.” he speaks softly and you don’t push any further, knowing how stubborn he can be. 

You watch him work, occasionally help with translation if needed. The night drags on, moon high up in the sky peeking through the window. Both of you talk, trying not to keep yourself awake even if sleep would be much needed now, but it’s too nice to just leave him all alone. The comfort hanging in the air is cozy, you could feel it being wrapped around your body. 

Santino surprises you with a question. “Do you want to go back? To your world.”

You take your time this time, contemplating on the answer. Do you? Can you even go back? The past two years have changed you as a person, to be in a world where it’s all a fiction but has never felt more real. Can you go back after the things you’ve seen?

“I don’t know.” you start. “I still catch myself wanting to go back but recently…” Santino looks at you with keen eyes, dreading your response, A glimpse of care in his eyes and something more. “recently I’ve been feeling like I’ve finally found a place where I could be myself, not worry about anything that I was living through in my world.”

It’s a half lie. The Elder could still have your head on a spike if you speak a word about your deal. But you want to stay, stay at Camorra, with the Guard, with Santino. It’s… home. More twisted version of it but better than you could have expected.

“Ben still catches you in the library, looking through every physics book we have.” the Italian comments and you smile. The library has been your place of quiet and intense search. Physics books didn’t do anything to have even a small glance or chance at your return to home. Ben caught you a few times with books spread around you, at first he talked to you out of pity but with time he warmed up to you, started helping with whatever knowledge he had. 

“None of them were helpful, mind you.”

“I’ll make sure to buy new ones for your research, then.” he replies and you’ve now noticed how close he was sitting next to you. Your eyes move quickly to his lips and back to the emerald green of his eyes. If you moved closer you could… You move back slightly, looking at the clock behind him, 5am.

“I should try and get some sleep, Andre will kill me if I miss the training.” you announce and stand up from the chair. Santino catches your wrist and you turn, he lingers, a silent sentence in his head, one that you can’t decipher. He let’s go and his eyes follow you as you exit his office. He doesn’t voice the faint bruises that have been forming on your throat. 

You reach your room, not bothering to change your clothing as your frame falls on the bed. The soft mattress engulfs you as you finally feel the exhaustion get to you. 

[stayinurlaneboi]

Fic Recs

Pics Text Masterlists Gifs Videos Audio CGs

last updated: April 14, 2022

ＡＦＴＥＲＬ！ＦＥ

Sian

with an s/o that wants to hold hands alot

Nine/Sian

affectionate s/o hc

Sian/Quincy

relationship hc

ＶＡＮＩＴＡＳ ＮＯ ＣＡＲＴＥ

Vanitas

ＴＷＩＳＴＥＤ ＷＯＮＤＥＲＬＡＮＤ

Grim

accidentally turned into a human

babying the little gremlin

Heartslabyul

affection hcs

Riddle

cuddles at night

making his s/o blush like crazy

lovestruck

budding love

Deuce

conspiracies and love confessions

Ace

grumpy babie

Savannaclaw

petting dorm

Leona

absence makes the heart grow fonder

strawberry and honey

jealous an clingy bc his herbivore was hanging out with rook

huddling for warmth

“its nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today”

hoodie thief

Azul

aquarium

with a crush that can see right through him

asking what his crush likes in a partner

confessing his love when hes half asleep

how to win his heart

morning kisses

love contract

mornings with him

touch starved s/o

s/o in a maid outfit

Scarabia

falling asleep in his arms

Jamil

having a nightmare about hurting his s/o post blot

postblot!jamil is v blatant with his affection

where kalim and reader switch bodies

Vil

potatoes cant get sick

vil asks mc out for a date but they were body switched with epel

Idia

meeting his parents during break

“dont give me that puppy dog face, how am i supposed to say no to that?”

finding s/o asleep with his sweatshirt on

a little bit of love

pink or unprotected h*nd h*lding

playfights

main character type shit

domestic hcs

goes on a date with robo idia

attention

something comforting

caring for a sick s/o

fell asleep before a date

sharing his new invention

trouble confessing

west of paradise

braids

Diasomnia

unwanted attention

Malleus

dragon form hcs

relationship hc

fluff hcs

child!mal gets real clingy to mc

child!mal fluff

where a big scary dragon invades readers pillow cave

accidentally kissing him

“would a kiss wake you up?”

yuu’s impact on his life

simping for each other infront of other people

“please dont go yet”

babie boy

sims 3

traditional dragon courting vs human beloved

serenading

true loves kiss

princess in the tower

maybe its instinct

NRC VS RSA

s/o’s getting a little too much attention from their counterparts

both schools fighting over a neutral mc

nrc boys working together to crush rsa 

idia makes a phone companion when prefect leaves for rsa

local sweetheart mc

nurse mc

joint cultural ball

neige meets nrc’s only female student and believes its fate

RSA bound

↳ heartslabyul

↳ savannahclaw

Best Boys

“you love me right?”

“baby boy”

s/o has a random urge to shower them in affection an praise

s/o skipped classes and was found crying in her room

s/o steals their clothes 

relationship hcs

true loves kiss

playing with their hair

mc coded reader

cuddling hcs

clingy shenanigans

touchy feely with only grimm

cuddling in their beast forms

overblot boys reacting to killing their s/o in an overblot

hugs from behind

v oblivious crush

yuu chopped off most of their hair

tsundere crush

cute fem!crush

snowed in at ramshackle

“i wanna marry you someday”

reader with a sensitive neck

hella touch starved s/o

super physically affectionate s/o

crush hcs

caught checking out mc ver2

sprained ankle bridal carry

comfort cuddles

comparing hand sizes

stealing their jackets

gifting their s/o with a big ol beauty and the beast type library

meeting the royal family

sharing a scarf

“i’d kiss you if you’d let him”

yearning - how will they cope when they miss their partner

having him as his lockscreen

“youre gonna be my date to the ball”

catching reader before she falls down

turned into kids

s/o is having a bad mental breakdown and comforting them

s/o wears their clothes

s/o somehow can still access their magicam acc

short mc wears their hoodie

mc with chubby cheeks

reader turned into a cat

lovers reassurance

may i kiss you?

playing in snow

having a crush on oblivious reader

finding their s/o in the rain

making bentos for them

playing with their hair

small s/o likes to be held

s/o who hasnt had a relationship before

“just one more kiss”

domestic dreams

jealous boyfriends

s/o recieving many confessions on v-day

slow dancing

trying to court you

s/o wears a dress for the first time

mirror mirror on the wall

favourite places to kiss

indulgent

First Year Crew

tiny mc with a physical touch love language

“thats my baby!”

platonic brainrots

boys take you out for a break (comfort)

goodbye forehead kisses

holding hands for the first time

with an mc whose love language is touch 

checking out their crush

Dorm Wardens

*check tags

s/o suddenly disappears 

s/o likes to cuddle in their sleep

trying to woo the only girl at nrc

girlfriend gets hit on frequently an loves to sing an dance

reactions to their crush wearing their dorms uniform

crush falls asleep on him

good night kisses

falling asleep in their lap

fluff hcs

dating hcs

s/o is much smaller than them

sudden hugs from behind

noticing that their crush checking them out

playing the pocky game

s/o oberblotting due to their negative emotions 

proposal hcs

sleeping with them

crush got hit with a spell that makes them hold hands

neck kisses

s/o almost gets kidnapped by someone

taking care of a sick s/o

rainy days

to feel loved

summer heat and too much skin

maid dresses

holding their faces

reactions to canon ramshackle

greeting kisses

tackle hugs

sleeping in the same bed as him

kisses

finding out they all like the same person

exhausted s/o asking them to lay on them*

chance to leave

valentine jealousy

unexpected cheek kisses

“i love you” for the first time

couple photos

super strong but harmless by nature s/o

poly!leaders with an s/o who’s love language is physical touch

poly!leaders with an injured reader

poly!leader who stole their uniforms and tried on

quiet and physically affectionate s/o

Series

when they’re in love & courting  1 2

fluff hcs 1 2

“are we about to kiss rn?” 1 2

“reasons why my bf is attractive” presentation 1 2

taking care of him while sick 1 2

running away from stress 1 2

finding their s/o’s lockscreen is them 1 2 3 4

falling in love 1 2 3 4 

dorm leaders in love vil

cold snap deuce malleus riddle

casual affections azul/idia leona/jamil vil

eyes on me diasomnia heartslabyul

Misc.

hot shit they do (includes obey me!)

reactions to fem!mc 

wake up (go back to sleep)

reporter!yuu overzealous hero defeated a villian w/ serious consequences

a little bit of love or comforts found in friendship

dear future husband

chapter 7 theory

yuu is mickeys counterpart

mc has oneiromancy

yuu is a catalyst for change

theres no way that nrc is filled with only pretty boys

technically mc is a delinquent and a gang

poly!azul and idia

crowly better be paying child support for this

obey me!mc gets pulled into twst

fem!mc using the oversized uniforms as a shield

fem!yuu in a school full of boys being harassed 

boys getting whaat they deserve

[pokegalla]

Hey @spiritmdraws I did the oneshot! It ended up as fluff but trust me, you’ll love it.

Chocolate Kisses

“I said I was SORRY,” Cross whined as I dragged him through the portal by his scarf. I was exhausted from chasing this chocolate thief. I finally managed to catch him as he was hiding in a cupboard.

“Sorry ain’t good enough Crossy. Not this time. You took my delicious and most anticipated treat of the day. Now you must pay for such an heinous act,” I said in the most dramatic way possible.

He gulped, “And how exactly am I supposed to pay you back…?”

I smiled deviously and led him to a large building. His nervousness suddenly melted as he stared up in complete wonder.

“Welcome to Hershey’s Chocolate World!!!,” I announced.

He began to tear up, “It’s so beautiful….”

“And you wanna know the best part,” I asked, giggling as he nodded excitedly, “You’re treating me tonight~. No excuses.”

His smile instantly fell, “Oh….I guess you were literal about ‘paying’ you back….ugh I’m gonna be broke….”

“You shouldn’t have run,” I stated simply.

Cross stared at me, “…..I take back what I said about you being the nice one. You’re cruel….”

“Oh don’t be like that,” I said grabbing his hand, “Cmon! We can still have fun while we’re here! Let’s go!” I turned and didn’t notice a small blush appear on his face as he let me drag him inside.

We had a lot of fun! The place was so big and bright….there was HUNDREDS of selections with chocolates. There was candy machines, clothes, plushies (even cow ones….yes I asked him to buy it. Just a little extra punishment-). We ended up sitting outside on a bench as we looked through our bags like we were kids on Halloween.

“I can’t believe you made me buy that stupid thing….,” Cross grumbled as he glared at the cow plush.

“I can’t believe you’d hate something so cute. I would understand if you were scared of BULLS but cows? They are so gentle….,” I cooed.

“Says Miss ‘I’m scared of everything spider related.’ Dust threw you that spider ring toy….and even if it was fake, you didn’t want that ‘little demon’ near you,” Cross retorted.

“Demon….,” I said sticking my tongue out, “At least they actually LOOK scary.”

“Suuuuure. Whatever,” Cross said rolling his eye lights before sipping on some chocolate milk.

I sighed happily, “Hey Cross…? Would you like a kiss?” He choked on his milk and had a coughing fit. After he calmed down, he looked at me completely shocked.

“W-What?! Seriously?!” He was completely dumbfounded. He always did have a crush secretly but for his crush to take him out (almost like a date….) then bluntly ask if he’d like to…t-to-

“Sure! I feel bad since I forced you to do this and I didn’t want you to feel left out…,” I said scooting closer, “I hope this is alright….” Cross was blushing so hard, he looked like a plum. He closed his eyes nervously and awaited the kiss….only to feel something placed on his lap. He opened his eyes to see a little cute basket filled with chocolates….specifically Hershey’s Kisses.

Cross blinked twice, “Huh?”

“Yeah….I uh instantly regretted making you treat me so I thought it would be fair if um….we’d just buy each other chocolates and call it even. I wasn’t sure what chocolates you like SPECIFICALLY….,” I rubbed the back of my neck, “So I texted Killer. He said that you loved kisses.” Cross stared at me for 3 whole minutes before bursting into laughter. “What…?”

“You….you heehee can be so innocent s-sometimes that it’s incredible haha,” He managed to say in between giggling. My confused face made him laugh more and I rolled my eyes, my ears burning from embarrassment. What am I not getting?

“Hmph! Stupid….,” I muttered with a pout. I opened a pocky box and took one out, letting it stick out my mouth. Cross noticed this and his soul skipped a beat.

He could hear what Killer would tell him if he were here now….

“This is your chance! Go for it!!!”

I noticed Cross had said something but I didn’t quite hear, “Sorry what was that?” I also noticed random Sakura petals started to fall (huh??? How the hell…? It’s SNOWING here how-?)

“I asked….if I could have some pocky as well,” Cross said grabbing my attention.

I shrugged, “Sure. Here….” I picked up the box and tilted it towards him. But he grabbed my wrist that held the box and gently pulled it away as he leaned forward. Before I could say anything, he bit off the one in my mouth and my lips grazed his teeth. We both melted and began kissing until we had to stop for air.

“Wow….that was….,” Cross began to say.

“Amazing,” I finished. I stared at him before turning away from his gaze, blushing ear to ear. Cross chuckled and kissed my cheeks.

“Heh….your blush is as pink as those Sakura petals. It’s so pretty~,” Cross said with his eyes shaped into hearts.

I grabbed his hands, “Y-yeah yeah….let’s just go home already.”

He smiled, “Sure….my little tsundere.”

I glared at him, “I heard that!” He just laughed as we left. I guess he wins this time around…..

Killer jumped up, “Ok they’re gone!” Horror came out of the snow while Dust got out of the tree that was above the bench.

“Finally I can stop throwing these damn petals….,” Dust said dropping the bucket of Sakura petals, “Where the hell did you even get these???”

Killer shrugged, “FlowerTale? I forget.”

Horror walked up to them, eating the leftover pocky, “Glad she didn’t notice me….so we got Cross.”

Killer nodded, “Now all we need is Nightmare!”

“Well we have to be fast….Fresh already got a point and Ink has two. We can’t let them win!” Dust said. The three nodded and ran off.

For a bit of context….I made a post about the love interests and them having rivals. Nightmare and Cross vs Fresh and Ink. Whoever scores 5 (or 10 idk yet) points will get my character’s heart (she can choose either just one of them or both from whoever wins). This is a big deal because this could also determine whether she stays with the Bad sanses or not and obviously they don’t want her to leave so everyone does their best to help Nightmare and Cross. (And no she has no clue what’s happening most of the time…)

[chrolloctrl]

How would be the adult trio in love ?? I'm really looking forward to your writing 😳😳💖💖💖🙏😎

omg this is something i’ve been thinking about so long since i feel like some people REALLY don’t write the adultrio well when they are in love. of course they are all borderline psychotic but i do not think they are incapable of love. i said what i said anyways let me continue

im going to do this as a head canon if thats okay!! if you want me eventually develop a specific character into a one shot i definitely will:)

warnings: like some mention of blood and fighting, maybe a lil mention of sexual things, nothing too bad tho theres one really explicit blood/gore mention in hisokas but that is a very hisoka thing so i have decided to leave it there

first i’m doing illumi bc yall miss with illumi so hard

okay so

first of all, he was a definitely a child with an avoidant attachment style

basically when mummy was there he was annoyed, when mummy left he didn’t care or was probably happy, and when mummy came back he was annoyed once again

this child did not experience love as a child

not once

zip

zero

nada

so u have to be patient with him im sorry to say

but it isn’t impossible

i think when he’s in love, he doesn’t realize it

he thinks he’s just in a sort of...agreement with you

but im telling u right now.. small acts of kindness are his love language

like if u guys were in a fight together and there was blood on ur clothes he would wash them and lay them on ur bed

and then u would be like “ok u didn’t have to do that thats so nice”

and he’d be like “i dont know what ur talking about”

and walk away

or

he would see like a book or something u like and read it just because u liked it too

he wouldn’t tell u tho he would just randomly bring up something from the book 

and you would be like “oh u read it?” 

and he would be like “no why would u think that”

and you would be like “:|”

with illumi u just have to be patient, i think eventually he would catch himself making ur bed one day and he would be like “fuck”

and realize he might have a thing for u

but he wouldnt believe it bc he is oh so emotionless and does not feel one thing at all

but he does he is just a liar

i think he would make his first move when he accidentally lets out all the emotions hes been faking not having and like just cries wishing he were loved and ur like

“i love u though illumi, a lot”

and he would just kiss u and like hug ur for 3 hours and then make u not talk about it ever again but u guys would just be in love and killua would be kinda pressed but he’d be happy u were illumi’s gon <3

okay let’s do chrollo next im sorry illumi’s was so long 

alright

as u can tell i am in love with this man

and everyone always bashes me bc he has no screentime and a pretty basic anime antagonist backstory

but out of all of the adultrio i think he falls in love the easiest and with someone nobody expects

like he is a mass murderer and thief and ur like...a flower shop worker

he would just be walking in yorknew city and see u reading some obsecure ass russian literature while working at a flower shop and he’d be like “wait im intrigued”

then he would talk to u and u would be like

:D

but also calm and reserved

and he would love that, someone who just vibes not a worry in the world

but then as he gets to know u he realizes u r not just a body bag who vibes

u r a human with actual emotions

something he probably swears he doesnt have

he would tell the rest of the troupe that ur just like...an experiment

and they would all buy it EXCEPT machi

she would be like “omg boss ur in love”

and chrollo would be like “um i dont feel that sry to say”

and machi would be like “ya sure lol”

you have no idea who he is like no clue he is the lead spider

but okay omg this part is gonna be corny

you would like hehe sorry im laughing thinking ab this

walking around yorknew city and he would almost step on a spider and u would be like “no!!! be careful!!” and pick up the spider and lightly set it into the grass

and chrollo would be like “why would u do that spiders r scary...right” *looks into the camera like hes on the office*

and u would be like “no..even spiders have feelings u know”

and then he would just like absolutely lose it he’d maintain composure but on the inside he would be like dhdkhduwojhfw

then he would kiss u and then he would finally tell the troupe the truth and machi would be sooo smug 

oh and the troupe def likes u like that is a given

ur just so innocent and sweet its like impossible not to like u u make everyone put away their tough guy acts

and then ya u guys probably read to each other u weird fucks

but its cute and i love

alright now for probably the person who would take the longest to love someone 

i dont know if u have read hisokas backstory one shot but i will try to explain the best i can

hisoka was in circus. lead man of circus say hisoka talented. lead man train hisoka to use nen. hisoka learns nen very fast. oh no serial killer is on the loose. oh no girl in circus almost get killed by serial killer. hisoka save girl. hisoka accuse lead man of being serial killer. lead man say yes lol i am. hisoka say okay i want 2 fight. lead man say sure lol i will kill u. hisoka kill lead man and girl in circus wonders where hisoka and lead man went.

okay now that thats out of the way

the girls name was abaki and i think hisoka liked her ngl

but that was before u know he got all gassed by killing lead man

he definitely thinks similar to illumi in the way that u r just a pawn in his plans

but u r def super strong and he is shook

he probably wants to fight u

but he still doesnt think ur strong enough

u live ur own life separately from his so he doesnt know much ab what u do in ur free time

one day he catches u training with someone else

and he won’t say it but hes lowkey pissed af

hes like “um wtf why didnt u ask me to train u

and ur like “literally why would i ever do that”

and hes like “what u think i cant train”

and ur like “u can barely control ur bloodlust hisoka :|” 

hes like “yeah u know ur right i guess”

but he doesnt stop thinking ab it bc like why wouldnt u train with him

u decide to go on ur own lil mission and try to fight someone you’ve been wanting to fight for a while

you invite hisoka just to watch, you tell him you just want him to sit around this time since you always sit around and watch him

he expects u to get beat to a pulp ngl

but you like completely obliterate the other person

this is too niche but u have such a gory fighting style. like ur def batshit crazy in a fight and loose all composure 

hisoka is shook bc he did not expect u to go that crazy

u like bite the other dudes jugular and blood splatters every where

that was so gross but idk im into that weird shit sorry im tw’ing that

but hisoka is a weird mf so that def makes him horny for u

he like takes u back to ur house while ur covered in blood and theres a crazy look in ur eye still

and he realizes hes in love with u bc ur just as crazy as him

i feel like ur guys relationships spawns bc of how crazy u both are. u guys probably summon demons for fun

i feel like his love language is more i do for u what u do for me

like if u save his ass in a fight, he’ll watch a cheesy movie for u

its def a give and receive vibe but it works

or if he saves ur ass he makes u guys take a bath together

and ur like “this is so cheesy”

and hes like “um ur having fun tho right” *crickets* “yea thats what i thought”

muah gonna think ab this before i go to bed

alr i think i wrote WAYYY too much omg these are all so long i am so sorry, too many thought in brain keyboard go woosh

hope u liked it though <3

[sakurabutterflyart]

Hugfia Week, Day 3 AU

The Princess and The Prince of Thieves

Sofia was known to be the Princess of Enchancia. She used to be a village girl in the village which is why she has a closer relationship with the villagers. Even if she's now the princess of Enchancia, she still enjoys being there. 

As she grew older. Since she's not gonna be the heir of the throne, she'd decided to train as a protector of her kingdom. Just like her brother. 

Nobody in her kingdom knows about it except her family and friends, cause she thinks that it's best to remain a secret. And it did. 

When she was just having a secret patrol in her village and decided to go home with some ice cream, that's a bit far away from other houses. There are currently only few people since it's already closing. Which is a perfect opportunity for thieves to attack. 

Sofia was about to eat her favorite flavored strawberry ice cream, she heard loud noises behind her. Before she could respond what's going on, she saw a guy with black hair and dark green eyes knock her out.

The thieves who are called Black Ice, have been known to be constantly stealing banks, restaurants, and shops. They are known to be the kingdom of thieves, for they can't be easily caught and it's been years but it's still an active thieves group. For they are being well trained and well strategize by their leader named Hugo, who hides behind the name the Ice Prince. For he is the prince of thieves. He used to be a beggar who was about to loose his life, since he still has his fellow brothers in the streets who needs to be fed. Which is why he has no choice but to live his life this way in order to provide all of them.

"Is everyone knocked out and tied." He asked his men.

"All down brother!" Desmond answered. Gently placing the citizen and checking the tied ropes to make sure no one's gonna go after them.

"Let's better hurry, before the village guards finds out we're here. We have to take something home for our guild." He ordered and everyone is taking the things that they will need. They were here for the money but Hugo thinks that he should take something special for his family and that is ice cream.

"Hey Hugo look!" Hugo heard his brother called, waving him to come.

He took off the cloak of the stranger I knocked out earlier, revealing she was a lady. She has soft white skin, She is wearing something like a hunter or a high position knight clothing that is very unusual for a girl to wear. Caramel brown hair that's tied into a ponytail. But what really stand out the most is her tiara and her pink amulet, that I can tell right away that this girl is the princess of Enchancia, Sofia. 

"She's a princess Hugo, what are we gonna do?" Desmond ask, a little worried like we're in big trouble. 

"What's with that tone Desmond? Isn't this a great thing? We can just hold her as hostage and demand the king for a fortune of money and treasures." Axel joined in, squeezing the knocked out princess's cheek.

Hugo's POV

"I don't think that's a great idea big brother. If we do that the king is gonna order all his soldier as they hunt down our home, including other kingdoms that is allied in Enchancia. It's best to leave her alone." I spoke, making sure the action we take don't get us into trouble. 

I look at the princess who is out cold and I gotta admit, she's very pretty. I scanned her looks wondering why did someone from the castle go to the village and with this outfit? 

"How about we'll take something expensive from this princess..." It seems like she brought nothing. The only thing I found valuable is her crown and her... "This necklace looks very expensive-"

I was about to grab it until I was surprised that a very strong grip stopped me. I look at the owner of the hand, it's not my brothers nor anyone around this room but the princess.

I looked at her as she got up, revealing her fierce ocean blue eyes burning in rage towards me. "Don't. You. Dare. Touch. My. Amulet. My father gave it to me, this is too precious!" 

She speak in a low tone expressing anger, but before I can even react she punch my face that took me flying across the room to the walls. It must be her pay back for knocking her out earlier. I manage to stay conscious, when I looked at her amulet it was glowing revealing that it's magical.

While I'm still trying to get up. My brothers are going after her to stop her from attacking me. But she managed to spar them with her sword that seems to be magical, even her punch and kicks are strong to make someone fly. She even gets to shape shift into an animal that is strong, she can even fly as a fairy. As few minutes past, she manage to defeat all 50 thieves from the Black Ice. 

"Now it's your turn." She pointed her sword towards me with anger on her eyes. It was threatening but I somehow find it attractive. She charge at me with full speed, and my brothers cried out in worries. I managed to draw out my weapon. Both of our sword clash that creates a strong wind. 

We were glaring at each other and staring at each other's eyes. The longer I looked to her, her glares may be scary, but she was darn cute. I smirk at the thought that this lady is really... My type.

"You... You're this famous prince of thieves who leads the Black Ice." She grumbled, but it fails to scare me but it made me smile.

"Yep, the one and only Ice Prince. But you can all me Hugo my lady. And I'm guessing you're this famous Princess Sofia of Enchancia, the hero of this Kingdom." I get up and manage to recover from  the pain of her punch. Giving a peck on her hand as greeting. She raised a brow, confuse at my response. "Even though you're known to be in dresses and staying at a castle, what are you doing here in this village?"

She pulled her hand away from mine, still glaring at me. "Don't be so casual to me Ice Prince! I've heard so many rumours about your recent attack through every villages, you've given so many problems in our kingdoms! I'm here to arrest you."

She spoke to her amulet, "Amulet, I called James to bring soldiers to the village's ice cream shop. The Black Ice are here..."

Her amulet glowed. As she continue to draw out her sword and charge after me.

Third POV

They were battling, their sparring took longer with Hugo flirting with her and teasing her. Until the fought ended with Sofia's sword skills and traping him to the ground. 

Hugo's POV

"Hugo the Ice Prince and the leader of the Black Ice. You are under arrest for stealing shops and banks, kingdom to kingdom. You bring enough harm to all of us." She declared, pulling the collar of my shirt and pointing a sword to my throat. 

Our face were so close and I can hear my heart is beating faster than ever before. It was a love at first sight with this girl, even though I never believe in those things and think it's a ridiculous way to fall in love. She's just so beautiful and strong, there's something about her that is so special when I look at those eyes. I just can't take it anymore. 

I smirked at this beautiful sight and also pulling her collar towards me, before she could asked and form a sentence, I silenced her with my lips. I can her hear yelp in surprise between our kiss. She was trying to pull away by letting go of her sword and push me, but I also do the same with mine and hold her hands tightly. Deepening our kiss.

I have never thought of myself as being forceful to a lady before. I promised myself that even if I'm a thief I'll still keep my good side especially to a girl that I will like. But she's a different story, I'm a thief and she's a princess who's gonna arrest me, and I also don't wanna let her go.

After enjoying her touch, I finally let go and let her breath. She looked at me in shock.

"Sorry about that, you're just too cute princess" I smiled at her, and I can see her face slowly turning red in embarrassment. "If I'm really going to prison, then I will never regret kissing a strong pretty lady like you."

"Y-you.. you jerk!"

I winked but I met a very hard impact to my cheek, though it doesn't really hurt cause I really meant what I say to her. 

She was gonna slap me with my other cheek, though this time I caught her hand and pull her closer, whispering through her ears with my lowest voice. "I like you, you're going to be my most precious treasure princess, you're mine now. I won't allow anybody, not even another prince to take you."

I let her go and we stare at each other. Her eyes looks confuse, not knowing what to respond. I sigh, as much as I wanted this moment to last forever, I can't afford me and my brothers nor my family to get arrested.

I snapped my finger and shouted, "Now Derek!"

The ceiling opened with our guild's magic. Revealing a bunch of dark carriages, I can see all of my guild mates, which is also my family, throwing rope ladders for my brother's to retreat to.

"What the! What's going on!" I can hear Sofia shout in anger. 

I whistled with my fingers, loud enough for my horse Electra to come to me. I hop on her and look at the princess. She was about to charge me with her magic sword, but this time I manage to catch her sword with my magic. 

"I'm called the Prince of Thieves for a reason Sofia, I use magic too and I never get captured that easily." I gave her a victorious smile, I can see her face looking very angry and also disappointed.

"You tricked me with those dirty moves and pick up lines. Is this what you use to any girls you fought with?" She ask, clearly disappointed being taken advantage of being girl.

I caress her face as I give a quick peck on her forehead, and patting her. To assure her. "Nope, you're the first lady that I ever treated this way. Even I don't expect to feel this way towards anyone."

Third POV

He smiled and suddenly flew away with his horse, when he saw the Commander James charging at them with arrows and chasing them down. "Stay away from my sister!"

As Hugo flew away, he smiled and shouted to her.

"Goodbye Princess, I'll see you again soon! If other prince tries to steal you away from me, I promise I'll steal you first!" He left, revealing he also steal her tiara. "If the amulet is too precious to you, I'll take this one instead dear! Goodbye for now my lady!"

He left and Sofia gritted her teeth, but she was completely flustered. She doesn't have the will to fight and go after them, leaving it to James. But they weren't able to catch them.

She was completely angry as she walk home with her brother, not being able to capture the greatest thief of the kingdom. She felt her heart tingling and beating just by thinking about him.

She felt dizzy at the feeling. She touched her lips, remembering the pressure he placed on her lips. Feeling frustrated about it. 

"How dare he... Out of all people, why him?"

Not only did he steal her first kiss, he also steal her heart. 

(A/N: This is from my wattpad. In Hugfia Week I'm a bit busy but I'll try joining in.)

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light: Chapter 3: Staged

A/N: Here’s the next one. I hope you like it. Don’t hate me. I’m trying to handle these themes with respect while still remaining in character. 

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 3: Staged

Kendra woke up with a start, blinking at her surroundings. She was lying in the center of a bed, big and round, with nice sheets, still in her dirty clothes. Bad for the sheets, good for her. Except for a heavy necklace, that was new. She cast it onto the bed beside her. Better safe than sorry.

Itching, icy cold started to crawl into the blankets with her. She pulled the covers over herself and hunkered down, trying to remember.

The first thing she remembered was the door. Unlocking it had done something to her memories. Then Ronodin showed up, and he spent the time arguing with Seth, who claimed to be her brother. They were trying to get the shiny stone.

Was she a jewel thief?

 No, Humbuggle, the dwarf guy, probably actually a demon, kept going on about a contest. Okay, she, her brother, and Ronodin were all in a contest for the shiny rock. So was the gold guy, who was also a dragon? He seemed perfectly human to her, if ridiculously loud. Maybe he was part of a gang called ‘the dragons’? But she did know that dragons could take human form.

Why did she know that? When did she learn it? She was sure of the information, like she was sure that the sky was blue, even if she hadn’t seen the sky since her memory was wiped. She also knew that knowledge about dragons wasn’t common information. But she couldn’t imagine herself reading that information, or seeing it happen, or someone telling it to her. She just knew.

What did she know about amnesia? Two main kinds: can’t recall the past, and can’t make new memories in the future. She had the first kind, thank goodness, a single reset. Ronodin, Seth, Celebrant, and Humbuggle all seemed to accept that she had given up her memories voluntarily, and it was an enchantment. They came in at different times and didn’t seem to like each other, so all of them agreeing on something probably meant it was true.

It had only been her and Seth, after she gave up her memory, so she had probably done it so that her brother wouldn’t have to. At least she was a good sister, whoever else she had been.

Kendra’s teeth started to chatter, the cold coming despite her blankets. They all seemed to agree on her name, so that was also probably true.

The cold was sinking in now, brushing her skin, her bones.

She had to get somewhere warmer, or she’d die before she figured out what was going on. Kendra poked her head out of the cocoon she had made, eyeing the door. It was a heavy black thing, with spiraling designs. Black and red seemed to be the motif of this place. She was wrapped in crimson sheets, there was a desk with a picture of an island hanging above it. A vanity. A door that opened to a bathroom, a closed closet. No windows.

Overall, just as unfamiliar as the bedroom in the castle that Humbuggle sent her to. She hoped this wasn’t her real home, she had a major heating problem.

The big black door creaked open, and Kendra tightened her grip on her blankets.

“Love, you’re awake,” Ronodin said, eyes softening as he saw her. Blue sconces lit up the room, turning the light colder as he walked in.

“You keep calling me that, but my brother said I was in love with your cousin and not to trust you,” Kendra said.

Ronodin sighed, looking down, “It’s a long story. I’ll explain it to you now that we have time. Can I at least help you get warmed up?”

Kendra glared suspiciously, forcing her teeth to keep from chattering.

“All I’m going to do is put this necklace on you,” he said, picking up the necklace she had tossed aside when she woke up. It was a ruby pendant, set in silver. “Its magic, it will help you with the unnatural cold. Then you can stay wrapped up, I’ll sit at the desk, and answer all your questions.” His voice was pleading, “Please let me help you first.”

It was cold enough that she wasn’t going anywhere. The worst that could happen was the pendant was cursed, but if he wasn’t telling the truth about it warming her, she’d freeze to death anyway. She knew she could remove it at least.

“Fine,” she huffed, and her breath condensed in front of her face.

Ronodin looked relieved, and she immediately felt bad. Seth had said that Ronodin was lying, and she was in love with his cousin. That meant they still had a relationship, in both versions of the story. It probably hurt him to have her treat him like a stranger, no matter who was telling the truth.

Because Kendra was swaddled in the middle of the circle bed, Ronodin had to kneel on the bed to put it on her. He did every action slowly, trying not to scare her. As the necklace settled, his fingers barely brushed her collar bone in a way that was somehow extremely intimate.

It made her shiver, and when she stopped, she realized it was indeed from the touch, because she wasn’t cold anymore. He scooted off the bed and took the chair, just like he promised. She let the blankets around her relax a bit. The necklace left her perfectly comfortable either way.

“Where do you want to start, Darling?” Ronodin asked. “You trust the word of your brother; do you remember him?”

Kendra shook her head. “No, but the four of you disliked each other back there. You were in competition, that means that if you four agreed on something, it was most likely true. I was alone with him, and he tried to protect me, so I was on the same side as my brother. All of you called me his sister, and you all agreed that I gave up my memory voluntarily. I hope that’s something I would do for my brother, so those two facts check out.”

“You really are clever,” he said, propping his elbow on the desk and staring at her, “You have always been modest about it, but I bet no one else would have been able to pull together so many things in the minutes after loosing their memory completely. What else do you know, so I know where to start?”

“Not much,” she admitted with a blush, “We were part of a competition. I’m under an enchantment that is blocking my memory. I probably have a boyfriend. Celebrant doesn’t like me. Humbuggle is annoying and rigged the contest. The only real prize was amnesia. We freed a bunch of people that were cursed inside the castle. And I have some kind of magic sight. Oh, and I was taken from wherever Humbuggle sent me by this scary puppet thing, and got knocked out along the way.” Wait, that was right. The storm, her brother shouting, being carried, getting knocked out somewhere along the way.

Ending up here.

Kendra narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Ronodin.

Ronodin sighed, “Not a lot to work with, but a good base of things I don’t have to convince you about. First thing you should know is that you begged to come here. No kidnapping involved.”

Kendra raised her eyebrow, “Really now, cause that felt a whole lot like kidnapping.”

“You didn’t count on your own amnesia when you wrote the plan,” he said drily, “but you wanted it to look like a kidnapping.”

“That’s convenient for a kidnapper to say.”

“I can prove it,” he said with a smile. His dark tousled hair fell into his eyes as he leaned forward with a grin.

“Let’s see it then,” she challenged folding her arms.

“The puppet’s name is Mendigo. He only follows your orders. You told him to bring you right to this room, through a magic barrel you hid for exactly this plan. Say his name, he’ll come when you call.”

“Mendigo?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. Wood jangled beside her bed, making her jump away. Her hand jumped to her chest, trying to calm her heart. The puppet had been standing in the room, beside the head of her bed. She hadn’t looked there. Or maybe she had thought it was just a coat rack in the dim light, she hadn’t gotten a good look at it during the kidnapping either. The puppet was facing her, a smile painted onto its block head. It was held together with golden hooks, and was much creepier than anything else she had seen so far. Including the turning-to-ashes bit with the stone.

Ronodin started laughing.

“I’m sorry, but you should have seen your face!”

“Not funny,” she huffed, folding her arms.

“It was a little funny,” Ronodin said, “He only obeys you, he’s protected you, and he makes you jump when he moves. Tell him to do something simple.”

“Mendigo, go, um, close the door.” The puppet did exactly what she said.

“Now I’m going to tell him to come back,” Ronodin said, “Watch. Mendigo? Pull Kendra’s hair.”

Kendra glared at him, but the puppet didn’t move. It was a bit too easy. What if the puppet was really under Ronodin’s orders, and he told the puppet to only obey her for this demonstration? The puppet couldn’t exactly vouch for himself. She had to figure out what control Ronodin had over it, and she had to do it before they went any farther. It was the difference between sure kidnapper and maybe boyfriend.

“Mendigo, choke Ronodin.”

The puppet surged forward, catching Ronodin in a headlock. He started gasping, and Mendigo pulled tighter.

“Stop!” she yelled, hands up, “Mendigo stop! Let him go.” Ronodin collapsed, missing the chair and slumping to the floor. She scrambled to the edge of the bed to see him cough in a lungful of air.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”

He rubbed his throat, “I did not expect that from you,” he said, voice raspy, “Hell, that hurt.”

“Are you going to be alright?”

He nodded, “It wasn’t deadly, so I’ll live. I’m just glad you didn’t test your control by asking him to snap my neck. Believe me yet that you’re the only one who controls him?”

She nodded, face red over her stupid test. “I really am sorry. I thought for sure you were the one he was taking orders from.”

He sat back in the desk chair, but she didn’t put herself back in her blankets, clearly he was telling the truth. And he was kind of at her mercy with Mendigo at her control. No real reason to be defensive.

He started chuckling, “I’m sorry,” he said, still rubbing his throat, “But that was so much more extreme a command than I was expecting.” His dark eyes turned appreciative, “I love it when you’re fierce.”

There was far too much in those words, that gaze, and she didn’t understand exactly what it implied, but it made her flush.

“How did I end up with a creepy magical puppet under my command?” she asked, looking at Mendigo to avoid his gaze.

“I believe you got it off a witch you defeated when you were thirteen,” he said. She had been trying to ignore it, but it needed to be acknowledged that Ronodin was hot. Dark hair, pale skin, chiseled features. Piercing black eyes with folded eyelids common to those of Asian descent. Korean, if she had to guess. He dressed in a dark robe with vibrant embroidery around the collar and sleeves, and wore it with confidence. His voice was ridiculously easy to listen to, even after being strangled. Actually, his voice added a little, gruff edge to it, the little imperfection improving it.

If she was going to keep her wits and figure out who she was and where her memories were, she could not afford to be dazzled by him.

“Right,” she said, blushing, “And how did I defeat a witch? Magic eyes?”

“Innocence,” he said, “That has real power in our world, and when you were thirteen, you kept all the rules, didn’t hurt anyone, and the witch couldn’t touch you. You asked for help from the Fairy Queen, and your innocence made her grant it, for the first time in hundreds of years. She made you something called Fairy Kind.”

“And Fairy Kind have magic eyes?” she scoffed. “You do realize how ridiculous this sounds.”

“Hmm, that knowledge must be too specific to you, you can’t retrieve it around the block,” Ronodin said, looking her up and down, “You don’t really have magic eyes. At least, no more magic than mine. You can see the light of fairy magic. It’s never really dark for you, because you’re always emitting your own light, wherever you go. But it’s actually really bright for down here, you’re kind of blinding me. Can you turn it down?”

“Oh, uh,” Kendra blushed, “I don’t know how.”

“Something else you’re going to have to relearn,” Ronodin sighed, “Okay. For the sake of my eyes, I’m going to teach you how to dim it like you used to. Ready?”

“Uh, okay,” Kendra said.

“You have this light, and you can only see it reflecting off everything else,” Ronodin explained, “That’s the normal state. But it’s awfully annoying for anyone trying to talk to you, and can make it hard for you to sleep. Imagine you’re holding a candle. The candle is the power inside of you.”

“I don’t know what the power inside me feels like,” she said. “I don’t feel powerful.”

“It’s part of your essence, of who you are,” he explained gently, “It’s not connected to memory, but the things about you that memories can never change. I’m going to turn off the lights, so you can see if its working. It’s okay, this is how we did it the first time.”

“Okay,” she said. He made the blue flames in the sconces vanish, but the room didn’t really dim. She tried to feel for her ‘essence’, but that was really hard when she didn’t know what that looked like. Was she a warm person? An angry and combative person? Did she like music? Which ones?

“You’re spiraling,” Ronodin said, “You don’t have to think about what you don’t know, focus on what you do. Focus on the feelings in your heart. You are kind, you gave up your memories for your brother. You take charge, like you did when telling off a dismissive Celebrant and bringing yourself here. Focus on where your strength came from in those situations, what takes over when there’s nothing else you can give. You have nothing else to give right now, what is guiding you?”

Kendra focused inward, and she thought she felt it. Who she was, the core of herself, it felt warm and bright inside her chest, behind her heart. She wouldn’t have ever found it if someone hadn’t told her to look, but she felt herself there.

“I think I have it.”

“Okay, imagine you’re holding that core of yourself in your hand. It’s a candle, burning, giving off light and energy.”

She did as he asked, and nodded when she thought she had it several minutes later.

“You’re going to pull that close, and cover it with your hand. Not putting it out, just dimming it. Fingers blocking the light, like you would a candle.”

Kendra blinked, “You want me to dim my soul?”

He shook his head, “It’s not your soul, it’s the expression of your magic entwined with your essence. And you’re just covering it up a little to make things more bearable. You’re taking your heart from your sleeve and putting it back in your chest for a little while.”

The room slowly dimmed as she worked through the imagery. It didn’t become completely dark, but it went from a dimly lit room to a room with a small nightlight.

“Is this better? I don’t think I can make it any dimmer,” Kendra said, brow creased

“Wonderful,” he said. And with her dimmer light, she could barely make out the white of his teeth.

“How do you know all this?”

He relit the sconces with his own magic. And he looked different in the blue light that didn’t mix with her own. More…glacial.

“Kendra, I’m your fiancé. I know this because I taught you this before.”

[chrissyslittleartwork]

Cursed to live for 3000 years, a Pharaoh, a Queen, and a Thief are bond to three Millennium items and without their memories, they are forced to wander the Earth until they are called by their destiny. Now three chosen young teens are picked to hold the Puzzle, Wand, and Ring, and this calls upon the cursed three.

So, figured I draw up what Atem, Bast, and Bakura would look like as immortals. At least in the Immortals AU. I will say this, in this AU, these three are very VERY different to original anime. For Atem, he's more like his season 0/manga self. Though he isn't like insane or thirsty for blood. However, living for years in the world, he has seen things that he sometimes wish he could forget. Plus, he has red eyes in this, which can lead to issues for him. People would believe he is a demon, or least a spawn of one. So, people would probably find him scary even though he is not in the slightest. He also is not afraid to risk his life because honestly, he can't die. His punishments on people who have wronged him are downright harsh. It's not till he actually meets Yugi and his friends that he begins to question if the judgements he makes is considered right. Not to mention, he has this empty feeling within him that he can't explain and that's only filled when he and Bast start to rekindle their relationship. I also wanted to make his outfit something different to what Yugi would wear. It was hinted in the manga he does not exactly care for the clothes Yugi tries to wear. Or at least, he finds his taste in clothes to be...weird. Which I guess I can understand. XD Also, I can see him wear earings since he did wear earings as a Pharaoh. And sometimes he would wear bands. Also, my friend and I decided that Atem would have NO issue getting girls to fawn over him. He is one hot guy. XD Of course he has those cool red eyes. (I do know Bast would love his eyes, especially since red is her favorite color). And his hair I decided to make like from the manga to make him stand out more.

As for Bast, while she does still have her kind heart, she is not the gentle soul I made in the original anime. In this, due to how long she had to live as well as her being a very beautiful woman, people (mostly men) have tried to take advantage of her. This would make her downright cold and untrustworthy of anyone she comes in contact with. There is even at one point in her life that a man she thought to be a kind soul turned out to be ugly and tried to rape her. This seriously damaged her view on men in general and even cause her to have PSTD. (Which unfortunately for Atem when they are starting to reform their romance, he ends up triggering that painful memory, but by accident and it leads to miscommunication.) She would even have one point that she almost ALMOST could have easily turned into someone who could kill if she wanted. But thankfully, she was saved from that and thus she vowed to keep her kind heart but be mindful of people. Thankfully, meeting Catzi and her friends, she starts to value her new friends and see not everyone is always going to take advantage of her just because she's beautiful. For her clothes, as I said, due to how most people just saw her only for her beauty, she started wearing baggy clothes in attempt to hide her true self. She really does get sick of people constantly hitting on her. After being with Catzi, her friends, and her relationship with Atem improves, she starts to reveal more of herself once again and never be ashamed for who she really is. I also made her hair a little more blue instead of the usual teal/dark aqua color.

Now for Bakura, this is where it gets interesting. I have shown in the comic and talked about it a bit there, but in this, Bakura is not evil. I mean, he kinda was at first but honestly, I feel like he didn't have to be. I feel so bad that he went through so much and never got a second chance in the end. So, for this, he was forced to be controlled by Zorc. And while being stuck in Egypt, he had to live his immortal life away from people for the most part. It wasn't until Ryou and his father come to Egypt and try to get the Ring. Of course, Bakura and Zorc can feel the Ring being disturbed so they had to go check on it. In the end, the Ring ended up killing Ryou's father since he was not worthy and Bakura was left to become his father. This actually changed Bakura. For so many years, Zorc had been trying to teach him of how being evil is the way. But Ryou, being just a small boy, would show him that it's not right and awaken the long lost human emotions and Bakura's old self. Thus he rejects Zorc which causes the evil being to go off by himself and becomes a normal human again. He also ends up caring and loving Ryou as his own son. Now for his design, I can see him just wearing simple clothes and not really caring too much about his appearance. I don't think he really brushes his hair all that much. XD He's also handsome but due to his sarcastic rude self, I don't think girls would want to hang out with him for too long. Going back to his hair, I decided to combine both the hairstyles he had. I honestly like the bat wing like or demon horn hair spikes. XD And also, I heard his thief king self was like 5'7. 5'7??? He was freaking shorter than Ryou who is confirmed to be 5'9!!! Nah...he looks taller than that, so I'm going to think he's 5'11. XD

Anyway, there you have it. Sorry for going into a bit of a rant but I wanted to show you all this and I really like how all three came out. :D

[filmwuju]

[TRANS] Character Introduction: People around Seongyeom & Mijoo

Ki Jeongdo | Yook Jiwoo | Ki Eunbi | Kim Wooshik | Kwon Young-il | Kim Hyunjin | Park May

Ki Jeongdo (Male, late 50s) Seongyeom's father / Four-term assemblyman

A politician who was an athlete. Back then, he was renowned as the nation's thief for snatching actress Yook Jiwoo, who was the nation's first love, at the prime of her youth. Rising to fame, he threw his hat into the political ring, as if he was waiting for this. Him moving into his wife's family home as a live-in son-in-law was also for the campaign fund.

Managing a family that can be recognized by citizens during elections was also Jeongdo's long time plan. As a man, Jiwoo was his trophy; and being the father of siblings who are national athletes, he was able to bear national sentiment. Seongyeom's home becoming a show window family was entirely Jeongdo's volition. Family means gathering together when needed and taking a harmonious photo, that's it. Just one is hard enough already, how incredible is it to raise two national representatives of South Korea? He regards fatherly love as an instinct, and thinks what he's doing to his children is true love. Not knowing that for the person receiving the unwanted love, that love can become violence.

He has always been privileged with vested rights, and since he's in the upper class, he always lived with pride. He has never doubted his capability of going higher, higher up. Most politicians are likewise, their final goal is running for the presidential election. And since they're running, naturally, they want to win. But Seongyeom, who used to be an obedient chess piece, keeps causing trouble. So he's contemplating on how to quash him.

Yook Jiwoo (Female, late 50s) Seongyeom's mother / Actress

A top actress hailed as the nation's first love. If there's Suzy in the 2000s, there was Yook Jiwoo in the 1980s. During the early days of her career, she went by the stage name Jiwoo, without the Yook, because her last name comes off as stubborn. This was her agency's policy. Later, Jiwoo saw her name on a movie poster and threw a huge fit. Since then, she goes by her full name that sounds stubborn for a "female" actor.

She's a perfect actress named as the Queen of Cannes; but she's a born actress who, in pursuit of her career, is far from even the letter M in the word "mother", much less be an excellent one.

Ki Eunbi (Female, 30) Seongyeom's sister / Pro golfer

She doesn't know how to love in an ordinary way, because she's never lived an ordinary life. The world's number one female golfer. With that title alone,  men—regardless of their skin color—approached her, not knowing how Eunbi is like after falling in love. There are no exceptions—whether they have a strong build, or got a straightforward personality. By the time they realize how scary Ki Eunbi is not as the queen of golf, but as a lover, it's already too late—so accept your fate. Once she takes a bite, she does not let go until she gets sick of it. There's no place to escape unless you go to the edge of the world.

Of course there's an exception. When their love for her dies down, she lets go without hesitation. It was always easier to figure out separation than love. The same goes for her family. The time she spent with them in her whole life wouldn't amount to even one year because of her trips abroad. They always separated the moment they met, and she felt worried at the thought of Seongyeom, who would be alone in the huge house. My poor little brother. Their father, who likes to rank, compares them frequently; the media, who likes to chatter, bashes him regularly. My little brother Seongyeom. Seongyeom, whose sin is getting born as my little brother.

Of course she worked hard, but Eunbi's talent played a bigger part. Her sense of distance is more outstanding than others, and she's exceptional in controlling her strength. They said the only thing left for a first placer to do is to fall downwards, but Eunbi didn't know how to fall. If she didn't have talent, would it be a different story? While having these thoughts, she saw Seongyeom and thought, hmm.. it would be stressful to have no talent.

She's even sick of the first place now. Feeling bored, she was thinking whether she should retire and rest a bit, but her beloved little brother caused big trouble. What can I do? My little brother wants to do it. It's an older sister's duty to act as his shield, and I won't die from doing it for a few years more—so just for a bit longer, I'd have to stay in the first place for him.

Kim Wooshik (Male, 20) National track and field athlete

He lost his parents at a young age and was raised by his grandmother. Unlike someone his age, he believes in superstitions. But rather than saying he believes in them, it's more like he's familiar about life and is treated as a precocious child. His self-sufficient grandmother clothed him in cleanly washed clothes even though they're old, and did everything she can so that Wooshik can grow up as a bright and optimistic person. Wooshik, who grew up just like how she raised him to be, was perfectly kind and honest. He wasn't good at studying but he was smart; his hands were slow but his feet were fast. Naturally, Wooshik chose track and field. It was also a sport that he could do even with no money. He fell in love at first sight after watching Seongyeom's race, ran all the way with Seongyeom as his goal, and became a national athlete. It's his wish to run a relay race in the same competition with Seongyeom before the latter retires. No records or competition, just as Ki Seongyeom and Kim Wooshik.

He once saw a passage that said forgiveness is the biggest revenge. That's like saying the powerless can't do anything but to forgive. Ever since his days in  sports high school, he experienced countless assaults and abuse under the force of power. And you say that's the biggest revenge? It was a day when he got beaten by his seniors as usual. He roughly wiped the blood from his nose using his sleeves. The superstitions Wooshik believed in were of no help at all in the face of reality. The one who offered Wooshik practical help was Seongyeom. He told him that forgiving is the victim's right. He told him that he doesn't need to forgive if he doesn't want to. As the only person who told him that, how could Wooshik not admire him.

Kwon Young-il (Male, 29) National track and field athlete

South Korea's track and field record holder. As the best sprinter, he lives up to his reputation of South Korea's No.1 track and field athlete who receives unconditional support from track and field fans. He's a narcissist who cares about nothing but himself, but takes an interest only in Seongyeom. It's because he's jealous.  Whenever he's free, he picks a quarrel with the forever runner-up Seongyeom and ends up saying foolish words. I'm the real first placer, but why does it feel like I'm being pushed back by Ki Seongyeom every single time?

But still, as Seongyeom's long-time colleague, and as a sportsman, he's a friend who supports Seongyeom for the path he's going.

Kim Hyunjin (Male, early 40s) Assemblyman Ki Jeongdo's aide

Would there be another expression that puts a limit on Hyunjin as much as the phrase "aide by nature" does? However, he is a capable aide—to the level that everyone would agree in unison—who grasps everything about the Ki family, including Assemblyman Ki himself. He's machine-like, making one wonder if his heart is made of steel; he does not feel things like conscience and warmth.

Park May (Female, 35) CEO of imported film distributor May

Her name was originally Maehwi. Was it her dad's poor hearing, or her mom's poor pronunciation? Her dad, who heard Maehwi as May, registered her birth with the name "May". For a long time, her mom called her Maehwi and her dad called her May. To May, the actual party concerned, it didn't matter whatever they called her by. What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

May believed in fundamental things. This was also due to her peaceful and cool nature; is it because of that? Entering a translation and interpreting university at the top of her class and finishing her studies in a graduate school of the same expertise, she was walking the so-called elite course. But then she set aside her career path and went into foreign film translation. The reason was simple. Because films are fun, but film festivals are freaking fun. She was in Busan when she first met Mijoo. At the Busan International Film Festival, which she skipped her class for, their sharing of the same bed at the guesthouse was the beginning of their relationship. After getting to know her, she found out that she's a distant junior of hers under the same department in their university. Mijoo was 21.

There is no bad Mijoo in this world. This is the pet theory of May as the dog owner of Mijoo. Mijoo—rough and clumsy, which makes her cute and pure too—was like a dog sometimes, she had no hesitations in baring her claws at arrogant things. From then on, May took it upon herself to be the dog owner. She was worried. If Mijoo meets a good person, it feels like she'd overcome her struggles and become extremely successful*, and if she meets a bad person, it feels like she'd get stabbed with a knife in the midst of selling drugs in a backstreet. All or nothing—Mijoo, who has no in between, didn't have a lot of things. She said she's never met a nice adult in her 20 years of life. Ah... I'm stuck. No choice, I'd have to be the nice adult for Mijoo, she decided**. Just like that, she spent around 10 years of time with her, as a senior and roommate.

She had more curiosity and energy before compared to now, but she feels no excitement nor interest in whatever she does these days. When she was young, she simply felt that her older seniors were cool, but now that she's at that age, she understood. There's just no fun in doing anything. She's done them all, tasted them all; the energy she used to pour out without reservation had been exhausted since long time ago.

Around that period of ennui in her life, an unsavory incident broke out in the translation industry she's been working in. She left translation behind and set up an imported film distributing company. As a small company that mainly imported independent films and art films, it involved a lot of legwork, so business trips is a norm. Her dream was to be a salaried employee for a lifetime, but why'd she become a CEO? CEOs like salaries too.. she didn't know of this fact until she became one herself. Is this, depressing? May, who was mentally healthy, immediately began her visits to the psychiatrist. Antidepressants help people who help themselves, and May wants to help herself properly. And since she's on it already, it's better to be bright and healthy.

T/N: * The idiom used in the original text is 개천에서 용 난다, which literally means "a dragon rises up from a creek." Often translated as "rags to riches," it is used to refer to someone from a humble background who overcame their hardships and became extremely successful.

** A longer translation that would more properly express the nuance of the original sentence would be:  May decided that: I'm not the best choice, but since there's no one else to do it, there's no choice but for me, at least, to be the good adult for Mijoo.

(orig post link from writer Park Shihyun’s DC gallery post)