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liillyliilly · 4 months ago

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Can Not Sleep

matsukawa issei x reader words; 4263 synopsis; red string of fate AU with insomniac matsukawa

The utter horror of that red string appearing, and three years too early at that. Biologically, something must have been going on with her. Because she was only a third year in high school, she was only 18. When she stared at it just a little too long she supposed that this was the world telling her she was screwed.

And imagine her surprise at who she was linked to, her soul was interwoven with Matsukawa Issei’s. The same idiot she had a bet with to see who could kiss more people by the end of the year. They had known each other for most of high school, but they never ran in similar circles, there was just enough overlap in friends to cause them to mess around and make silly bets.

The horror at being tied to him was understated by her close friends who said at least he was hot. Sure he was hot, she’d give him that, but he was also extremely intimidating. Everyone said he had an easy-going nature, and that was true, but he also scared the living daylights out of her. No one could be that chill with everything that went on in the world, he must have been some kind of mutant to ignore the terribleness and to keep living each day to its fullest.

She deduces since neither of them talks about the string, life can continue as normal. She assumed the bet was still on, so she went to her current rotation of guys, trying to seal the deal with three of them that week at various locations throughout the school. She was not going to let eighteen thousand yen disappear that quickly from her reach.

He deduces that since neither of them talks about the string, that life is not continuing as normal. He assumed the bet was entirely off.

This is why he got a very infuriating chill when he saw his soulmate kissing someone from the debate team under the stairs on his way to English class. She pats the debater on the shoulder, telling him to get to class. When he goes in for one more kiss, Matsukawa pulls him back by the hood of his jacket, telling him to essentially get his ass in gear with one look in Matsukawa’s eyes.

“So we’re not going to talk about this,” He waves his pinkie in the air. The red string that usually remained invisible appeared visually to the pair of them, connecting his right hand to her left hand. “And you’re just going to keep kissing half the boys in school?”

“I’m at 35 boys now, thank you very much.” She cringed the moment she saw his face tighten in discomfort. She knew that he had capped out at 20 girls and had given up when the string appeared. She hadn’t heard it from him of course, she heard it from Iwaizumi who told her she needed to talk to Matsukawa because he was losing it slowly but surely day by day.

“I thought we could wait a few more years until we discussed,” She held her pinkie up in turn, “This.”

“Years? I was thinking something along a timeline of months.” He rubbed his eyes with his right hand, the string inevitably pulling her closer to him, she had to push against his chest to put some space between the two of them.

“Months? We’re still in high school mind you.” Her pinkie started to hurt, but she ignored it because she needed to set him straight about the expectations for this whole soulmate ordeal.

Matsukawa started citing all the things they were told in elementary school, she wanted to just roll her eyes. They were an exception to the rules, the whole legally registering, the whole getting a red circle tattooed around their pinkie finger to signify the bond they had, they had to be an exception because of their age.

They kept arguing, not realizing that their red string had begun to circle them, tying them up. Too busy with getting the argumentative edge to remember the other things about red strings, that they had a mind of their own. Or at least, the string’s mind was a manifestation of subconscious and conscious thoughts both soulmates had.

She went to walk away, only to realize that Matsukawa’s side of the red string, being a much darker red, had looped around her legs, her thighs, and her torso, and was keeping her from getting away from him.

He realized his fault in tying the two of them together, and for a moment he did look apologetic. So he offered words as a condolence, “You’re pretty.”

“I know.”

“And humble too.” His part of the string just looped around their waists again, meaning they’d be stuck for another thirty minutes or so. A teacher passed by and just giggled a little before guiding the pair to the nurse’s office to wait out the string.

It was shocking to realize that he never slept. Which meant that she began to never sleep.

The first time she realized he stayed up way too late was a few weeks after Matsukawa had let his side of the string go wild, resulting in the principal just telling the two of them to keep the whole red string thing to a minimum at school.

She was snoring, happily too, when her left hand began to move up and down from under the pillow. At first, she thought maybe it was just a dream, and she tried to go back to sleep. But then her hand would not stop the vertical motions, repeatedly. She called him in a fury.

“Get me out of your mind when you’re doing things like that at night!”

“I can’t help it! Biologically you’re literally that for me.”

She groaned and told him to take a cold shower so she could sleep. He had obliged that time. All the other times she just texted him and told him to make it quick, she also made it part of the routine to just scream into her pillow to release the anger at having part of her body being physically pulled by him.

Having the mental connection of thinking about your soulmate linked to physical actions was going to kill her. This was why the red string usually appeared when they were 21, because at least people had the common decency to not use their soulmates to get off in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t always him doing sexual acts either, sometimes he would just tap. Late at night, he would tap his fingers against his mattress, thinking about her. She didn’t mind that one as much as the other stuff he would do at night. She thought that the tapping was sort of sweet, in an annoying nuisance way. There would be some kind of pattern sometimes, but she could never tell distinctively what the pattern was.

Other times, she would just lay awake at night because the red string was doing its little heartbeat thing, where you could feel the heartbeat of your soulmate, but it was especially prominent when they were thinking about their soulmate. Matsukawa’s heartbeat was almost always extremely tangible for her.

She still hadn’t wanted to talk to him about the whole thing, just considering it one of those silly little things she had to deal with. But that was one of Matsukawa’s breaking points, the silence. He could do the waiting as long as she liked, but the silence was killing him. So much so that he had actively utilized her annoyance with the string’s mental-physical connection to tug so frequently one day that she would have to talk to him since no phones were allowed during the school day.

Peeking her head into his classroom, she was relieved to see it was just him in there, the rest of his classmates had gone out to buy lunches and such. He sat at his desk, moving his pinkie by hitting a volleyball in the air with both his hands.

He saw her when the door she was using to peek through had begun to slide and creak. She fell face-first to the ground when the door slid out of control, he laughed and told her to come over. Grabbing a chair, she sat across from him on the other side of the desk. He stopped tugging on the string when she finally sat down.

It was silent for a moment, they avoided each other’s eyes.

He cracks first.

“Talk to me.” He pleads. He reaches out and grabs her hand with his.

“Okay.” She bites her lip, “What do you want me to say?”

“Anything. But lemme say something first real quick, we used to be friends. Good friends I would say, but since this occurred it’s like you treat me as invisible. Like I’m not there. I can understand you wanting your time and stuff to process, like yeah this is a huge change to our lives. But I need you to realize you aren’t the only one dealing with this. I’m here too. I’m the one at the end of your string.”

She feels like crying because he sounds like he wants to cry.

“I’m not ready?”

“To treat me like a person?”

“I’m not ready to treat you like a soulmate. And all that goes on with that. I hate needles.” A flashing image of the needle that will inevitably trace around her pinkie is enough to get her to cringe.

“I know you hate needles. You told me about that first year.” Matsukawa leaned back in his chair, looking outside for a moment. “We, we can put a pause to the soulmate thing. At least for this year. But I want us to be friends again, back to normal.”

She smiles, rubbing his arm with her hand gently, “I want that too.”

Matsukawa did not enjoy being just friends. Not when his entire world had shifted. He had his person right there and she didn’t want to be anything more than friends. Suddenly everything she did was driving him crazy, and he still hadn’t even kissed her yet. Maybe it was his fault for expressing his impatience just a little too loudly during a passing period, because what the hell?

Her picture was pasted all over the walls, with the text: SOULMATE HATER almost spray-painted over it. Matsukawa realized that high school may be the worst invention of the modern world, because who decides to put a bunch of horrible undeveloped humans into one building for hours on end and say that that’s good?

She was shocked, to say the least when she got to school and traded out her shoes for her slippers. Her picture was right on her locker, with the most foul accusation. It wasn’t Matsukawa’s doing, he’d never do that. So she reasoned it must have been people sticking their noses into business that wasn’t theirs in the first place. It was crushing, embarrassing, and humiliating. She tried to rip down all the pictures in the entryway, only to see that all the walls had been glued with the poster.

Then she wanted to cry, because there she stood holding crushed paper in her hand, and other students were flooding in, seeing the pictures, and then looking at her, the worst part was that they then began to talk.

Rushing to the bathroom, she didn’t even realize that she brushed past Matsukawa and his friends, who were all trying to rip down as many of the pictures as quickly as possible. Oikawa sees Matsukawa hesitate, then tells him to go after her, Oikawa reassures him that he, Iwaizumi, and Hanamaki could deal with the photos (Oikawa left out saying that he was also going to find the person but then again some things could be implied with a look).

Matsukawa was crushed abysmally worse than when she said that she had just wanted to be friends, because there she was curled up on the floor of the bathroom rubbing her eyes, she wasn't quite crying but her body was shaking. He didn't know what to do, but he didn't want to mess it up.

He crouched down, and put his hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb over her kneecap.

“Hi.” He offers.

“Hey,” She uses her sleeve to rub her nose, “You do know I don't hate you right?”

He didn't believe it was even possible for her to hate anyone, “You don't hate me, you love me. It might not be all the way right now, but you do love me.”

She chuckles, pulling him down to sit with her. On the disgusting floor of the girls’ bathroom, they waited out the first class of the day, just talking. Eventually, Hanamaki texts Mattsukawa that the coast is clear. She doesn’t know what to do so she just shakes his hand and heads to her next class. He’s left stunned at the entrance of the girls’ bathroom.

It was the following weekend, the whole photo disaster had died down due to the band kids accidentally having an orgy on their trip to Tokyo. While disgusting, it made her grateful to have something else be the focus of the school than her red string.

Matsukawa was bored out of his mind, switching through TV channels. Everyone else was busy with makeup work or their families. He looked down at his hand, he moved each finger once. What was she doing? Who was she with? When would he see her again, outside of just school?

He stared at her icon in his phone, the last texts had just been her thanking him for taking down the photos and for sitting with her. He decided now was as good a time as ever.

to y/n (future wife) 🤩⭐✨💌: Do you want to come over?

to matsukawa issei 🧵🍀: Why would I come over?

to y/n (future wife) 🤩⭐✨💌: To hang out?

She was chewing the inside of her mouth. He was cleaning up the living room as quickly as he could because he had a feeling she would be coming over.

to matsukawa issei 🧵🍀: I have Oreos, you better have more snacks at your house

They didn’t expect to have such a good time together. Sitting cross-legged and across from each other on the couch, they were trying to get Oreos from their forehead to their mouths without dropping them and without using their hands. Matsukawa was surprisingly gifted at this game. She had dropped at least three Oreos, but she was having a great time with each new attempt.

“You gotta move your nose less.”

“I can do it without you coaching me!” She started laughing though, so the Oreo fell, and she made a short sound in reaction to dropping her Oreo. Falling back onto the arm of the couch she kicked her feet out and rested them in Matsukawa’s lap since he had turned around and was looking for the remote to the TV.

It was midnight and they were glued onto the movie screen, gradually, throughout the movie, they moved closer and closer until the length of their sides were touching. He was scratching her back lightly, soaking in the light hums she let out appreciatively. When one of the characters in the movie died, she asked a question.

“How many more months until school ends?”

“For break? Or the end of the year?”

“The end of the year.”

“I think like maybe four or five, we’re about halfway done.” He ate another apple slice from the apples that he had cut up and put in a bowl on the side table. She asked for one and he gave it to her.

“Okay, last day of school, we can go for it.”

“Go for it?”

She just lifted up her pinkie, the tiny red string a rich red color, a more vibrant shade than Matsukawa’s deep blood-red hue. The grin in response that he gave was astounding.

When Aoba Johsai lost to Karasuno, the third years were in shambles. It was again late at night, and Matsukawa just couldn’t help but tug on the string, he wondered if she would call him, or if she would text him telling him to stop. His insomnia got the best of him at times like these.

When his brain wouldn’t let him relax into bed and finally stop thinking. He thought of everything he could have done differently in that last game. Everything he could have done differently to make her love him just a little more, or at least for them to get closer sooner.

Then, with one text, he was opening his front door and she was hugging him so tightly he thought that his breathing would never return to normal. When her shoulder was soaked through with his tears, he gave her one of his sweaters to change into. That was probably the reason for the mental-physical connection to the string, he mused, so that when one of them needed each other, they could be there faster than fast.

The days went by, and they hung out more and more frequently. She was getting used to his personality, all sides of it. The goofy, the serious, but most importantly his ability to stay calm. She could be worried, or anxious, and he would just be there in a capacity that she didn’t understand the magnitude of.

One time, when she went on a family trip to Okinawa. And Matsukawa felt so ill that his mom just knew it was from string sickness. He felt like she must have been too far apart and suddenly waves of nausea hit him like a truck. His mom was amazed that her son was the one who got this side effect of the soul connection since she had texted L/N’s mom and asked if she was doing alright. When the result came up perfectly peachy, Matsukawa’s mom just laughed and got her son another glass of ginger ale.

He called her that night too, begging.

“You're intoxicating, I’m actually running a fever, you need to come home early.” Matsukawa wanted her back within a ten-mile range as soon as possible.

“You mean go back to my house?” She was ruffling her brother’s hair and adjusting his swim shirt for the late-night swim he wanted to go on. Rubbing sunscreen on his ears and pinching his cheek when he complained.

Matsukawa hit his head against his pillow and clarified for her, “No, I need you to come home, which is with me. I said what I meant. Keep up.”

She said she would call him again tomorrow. He was still extremely sick until she got back from her trip. And as soon as he was feeling normal again, he came over.

“You’re a terrible listener, I said to come home not go back to your house.” He tugged her hand, waving at her parents through the door. They waved back at him. She jumped a little, leaning to the side, putting on her shoes, and asking him to slow down.

To her surprise, he pushed her back up, so she was standing. He put her shoes on instead, lacing the ties just tight enough to be secure. He patted her thigh on his way to standing up again, using his head to point to his car. When they got to the park, he took her right to the swings. They weren’t swinging, just sitting on the seats and rocking slightly.

“This is for you.” He hands her a small baggie, made of velvet.

“Drugs?”

“Shut up.” He turns his face away from her, waiting for her to open the gift.

Inside the bag was a shiny small silver ring, it was understated, but the metal had been molded so there was a single knot that was meant to face upwards. She handed the ring to him. He froze for a moment before she held her hand out for him, wiggling her ring finger. He just rolled his eyes and put the ring on her.

“Great, it’s like preparation for the real thing.” She inspected the ring on her finger and Matsukawa just chuckled, shaking his head in exasperation.

“I have something for you too.” She kicks the ground a little more, actually swinging a little. “You need to close your eyes though.”

So Matsukawa holds his hand out and tightly shuts his eyes. He did not expect her to put one hand on his, holding it tightly, and then for her other hand to cup the side of his face, but he most definitely did not expect her to press her lips to his. When she goes to separate from him, he just grabs the back of her head and pushes her back to his lips.

He wishes he could go back in time to erase all other kisses from his history, he wanted this to be his first kiss, he wanted this to be the only kiss to ever have graced his senses.

He tugs the string at night. Always at night. Sometimes she just can not sleep because her finger feels the short but rough tugs. She only realizes there’s an actual communicative pattern when her teacher mentions the development of Morse code within the world, and how that completely shifted global communication.

She heads to the library, thinking there was no way that he was doing what would’ve been completely crazy. He was already in the library, in the exact aisle she wanted to go down, so she ducked and hid in the other section until she saw him leaving. She rushed to get to the book she had asked the librarian to help her find. And when she opened it, a note fell out.

Better start learning ;) - Issei <3

What a goof. It is fully believed that she never studied anything even remotely that intensively before this.

His late-night messages range from sweet genuine confessions to things so borderline toe-curling she has to stop transcribing or else her face would get too hot to live with. Most commonly, he’ll just tap out: I love you.

She knew he was an insomniac. But this was driving her crazy, to know he wouldn’t sleep, or more realistically, couldn’t sleep. She starts going over to his house most nights, just hanging out until she goes home to sleep. Matsukawa starts sleeping better and more frequently when she comes around.

“I bet I’d sleep even better if you just stayed over.” Matsukawa was pushing his luck with that one. She went home but came back with a duffel bag around fifteen minutes later.

Brushing their teeth together made her realize that she did love him back. He kept trying to talk but his mouth was full of toothpaste.

“Do you really wear a chain to bed?” She judged the silver accessory he was wearing in combination with his pajamas. He was lying against his headboard, watching her flit around his room, inspecting and assessing his things. He took the necklace off immediately and threw it under his bed.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” He blurts out. She sat down on the futon his mom laid out for her. “Yeah, you’re not sleeping on that.” Matsukawa resolves and then pats the spot next to him on his bed.

Maybe having her sleepover wasn’t the best idea, because he just wanted to stay awake talking to her and tracing shapes on her hip. But she was asleep and nuzzling into her pillow by the time he got to the part in his story about Oikawa tripping over a volleyball when he saw that Hanamaki and Iwaizumi were wearing crop tops for a joke at practice. He tucked a hair behind her ear and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into him. He claimed that that was the best night's sleep in his whole life.

His mom also came in around 3 am just to make sure nothing that would cause her to be a grandma prematurely was occurring, and all she saw was her son holding his soulmate like a teddy bear. The pictures of them sleeping were well worth all the years she spent dealing with not only her insomnia but Issei’s as well.

Matsukawa’s mom had sent the photos to Y/N before her son. So when Matsukawa was messing around on Y/N’s phone, he was very pleasantly informed to see the two of them sleeping as her lock screen, and then a photo of their shoes facing each other as her home screen.

When it was time to grow up, say goodbye, and move on, Matsukawa could not have been happier. How could he not when Y/N gladly held his hand in public during all the various graduation activities? Hanamaki joked that he had never seen Matsukawa smile longer than two seconds at max, and now here he was smiling like an idiot because the girl he liked was holding his hand and pressing kisses to the corner of his mouth.

The rest of his life went pretty great. Getting married practically right out of high school (much to her chagrin, but hey, she didn’t say no when he proposed so that’s her fault), working at a funeral home which meant helping people move on and understanding that life continues even when it feels like it shouldn’t, and one of the best parts of being with his soulmate was getting much better sleep.

bonus thought...

might need a man who works in a funeral home after this

https://youtu.be/A77PnWNmeqY?si=5azlWNgcizMS1m39 (for the music lovers who need a late night jam fr fr)

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youcouldmakealife · 11 months ago

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LBTE: Jared (142-144)

Holden Chase, head trauma, and unintended consequences.

If you're reading along, the series page is here.

142. Ellipsis

You know, seems kind of sadistic to give this title to a chapter that ends the way it did. Not an apology, just an acknowledgment.

He went to the Hockey Hall of Fame in his rookie year, refused to touch the Cup, just in case. Dumb superstition, but more than that, if he touches it, he wants it to be because he earned it, not because he paid twenty bucks at the entrance. He went to the Empire State Building with some of the Oilers once, and Julius wore a supremely bored expression all day, all ‘New York is beneath me’.

Even Jared has gone to the Empire State Building more times than David Chapman, resident of New York for years, confirmed.

Minnesota’s fucking cold, and he’s saying this as an Albertan.

Went to Minnesota on TOTI research trip (my brother worked for a Minnesota based company at the time and he got a tag-a-long to a work thing that he in no way, shape, or form requested). Anyway, can confirm: was fucking cold.

Jared gets started on his packing as well. Just the socks and underwear, since he’s sure Bryce has ideas about what he’s going to wear, and will be all appalled that Jared packed like, a red sweater when obviously it’s green sweater season, Jared, how did you not realise that it was green sweater season, don’t you pay attention at all to the sweater seasons?

Bryce is grey sweatered and borderline hyperactive in his cheerfulness on the flight out.

Foolish Jared, it’s clearly grey sweater season.

Jared imagines money’s been bet, but what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Or like, stress him out. Bryce happily co-existing with their teammates is worth him losing some money at cards once in awhile. Or like, often. He’s really not very good, from what Jared’s gathered, so obviously everyone is happy to have him join in. But Bryce doesn’t mind, so Jared doesn’t mind. Much. They play for stakes the call-ups and ELC guys can afford, so it’s not exactly going to bankrupt them, no matter how many games Bryce loses.

Bryce is enthusiastic and terrible, which makes him the ideal person to play cards against, even before you get into the fact he makes more than most of his teammates make less money than he does and therefore the stakes seem low to him. That’s a Stevie rule — nobody’s betting more than the player paid the least on the team can stomach. This is a way to pass time on the plane, not a gambling ring.

Ashley is pregnant. Like, Jared knew this, obviously he knew this, they were told right before they left — weeks after Raf and Grace found out, and he is not upset about this — but there’s a difference between knowing and seeing. She’s not like, about to give birth or anything, but they definitely would have noticed if they hadn’t been told in advance. Probably. Maybe.

Bryce would have noticed, at least.

Jared a) is obviously extremely upset about this and b) would absolutely not have noticed, but he’s right that Bryce would have.

Jared mortifies himself in front of David Chapman, which is great. Totally fine. Absolutely not something that will haunt him for the rest of his life, and may actually lead to a premature death due to intense shame.

“You’re exaggerating,” Raf says over breakfast the next morning. “He didn’t even notice.”

Two things can be true. Jared DID mortify himself in front of David. And David did not notice.

“No offence?” Raf says. “But David’s kind of — not oblivious, exactly? Well, kind of. Trust me, he didn’t notice. I can almost guarantee he’s already forgotten your name, let alone anything you said to him.”

Accurate summary except where Raf said ‘not oblivious, exactly’, because he IS oblivious, exactly. At least in this particular matter.

“I mean you were flirting with another dude in front of him all night,” Raf says. “So I don’t really blame him.”

So apparently Bryce was not the only one who got the impression that Jared was flirting with David. Great. Terrific. Wonderful.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jared moans. “It wasn’t flirting, it was like — word vomit.”

Jared thinks someone is pretty, Jared loses control of his mouth. Well. Remaining control.

“Maybe don’t call David out of your league when you’re explaining why it wasn’t meaningful flirtation?” Raf says.

“That’s great advice,” Jared says. It truly is. “Except I already did that.”

Raf shrugs. “Would have told you not to flirt with David but—“

Jared thunks his head back on the table.

Raf has endured so much.

He found this one pretty funny though, to be honest. Like, mortifying to witness at the time, but over breakfast the next morning? Hilarious.

Bryce is no longer mad at him by the time they get to Buffalo. Or maybe he is, but not mad enough not to sneak into Jared’s room for a gameday nap, and Jared’s too relieved to remind Bryce about his ironclad ‘no sleeping together on the road, yes that means naps too’ rule. Which is apparently less ironclad and more ‘unless I fucked up and hurt your feelings in which case do whatever you want’.

Annnnd the ironclad rule has been broken.

then Hartford’s a quick, surprisingly easy win, one that’ll probably lead to a dozen Moby-Dick references in game-write ups from beat writers who think they’re clever.

Cue William Dineen pointing out that orcas are dolphins, actually.

There’s also a difference between quietly missing his family a bit and the loud ‘thank fuck we’re almost home’ that’s going on with a lot of his teammates right now, Dmitry the loudest among them. Everybody’s glad to be going home. Nobody needs to say it repeatedly at increasing volume.

“He’s got kids,” Bryce says.

“Okay?” Jared says.

“He’s got kids,” Bryce says, like Jared didn’t hear him the first time.

Dmitry hasn’t seen his children in several weeks. He missed them very very much.

Dmitry says something loudly about missing his kids. Bryce nods earnestly like this isn’t the tenth time he’s heard it. Today.

Very very much.

“They are getting so big and I am missing it all!” Dmitry groans. “All of the moments, Bullet! I have abandoned them!”

Bryce makes wordless soothing noises as Dmitry puts his face in his hands.

Very VERY much.

“Okay, he’s a little dramatic,” Gabe says, and Jared grins.

Also yes this.

Not seeing something coming is the biggest cliché. In general, but specifically in hockey.

I acknowledge, I do not apologise.

He doesn’t see it coming. Puck on his stick, back to the play. He does a shoulder check, and he’s clear, the Bruins defender on him peeling away, presumably for a change, and the puck’s off his tape, pass executed, on its way to Dmitry, and then there’s nothing at all.

So just to be clear: that pass was executed far enough before the hit that Jared was not eligible for contact anymore. It was a late hit. It would have been boarding even if it wasn’t, but it was late as well.

143. Washed Clean

“Okay, that’s okay, you’re fine,” he hears. It’s Gabe, he thinks, but he doesn’t open his eyes again to check. “You’re fine, okay Jared?”

“I’m fine,” Jared mumbles.

“You’re perfectly fine,” Gabe says back.

Gabe holds it together admirably until he gets home because he feels that’s what’s needed of him, but man is he freaking the fuck out right now.

“I want you to stay still for me,” Graham says. Jared assumes he’s saying it to him and not Gabe.

“Don’t move my head,” Jared says.

“Exactly,” Graham says. “Can you move your extremities?”

“You just told me to stay still,” Jared says. “Which one is it.”

The RELIEF Gabe feels at Jared being snippy.

“You’re okay?” he says from a careful distance, like if he breaches it he’ll break.

Bryce is 100% sure that if he gets within five feet of Jared right now he will not be in control of his own actions. He’s thisclose to not caring.

Getting out of there’s a mess. It’s the same as usual, honestly, doesn’t take any longer, or have any more logistical snarls, but whatever remained of Jared’s energy ran out before they even left TD Garden, and his head hurts too much to look at his phone, do anything but keep telling himself the painkillers haven’t kicked in, that he just has to wait, even though it’s well past time they would have started working. He feels like he’s going to cry every time he blinks. He hurts.

I can think of worse places to have a brutal headache than a hockey arena, but not many. Fluorescents, strong smells, so many people coming and going, people calling out, yelling — total nightmare.

Jared is on the verge of tears for a good hour or so, here.

“Back of the plane will be quieter,” Gabe says. “Let me check with Munch.”

Munch apparently gives them the last row without argument, which has Jared wondering just how bad that hit looked, because he’s as much a superstitious creature of habit as anyone Jared’s ever met, and no way would he cede his usual seat without good cause.

Munch is indeed extraordinarily superstitious, but Jared is as white as a sheet, and Munch doesn’t want to be haunted by ghost Jared. Also he has empathy. But mostly it’s the not wanting to be haunted.

He breathes small, shallow breaths, fighting the urge to grab Gabe’s hand and squeeze until someone else knows exactly how bad he feels. That’s unkind. Also his skin hurts, so it’d probably hurt him even more than it’d hurt Gabe.

Unkind may not stop Jared, but self-defeating will.

“How’s your head?” Bryce says, carefully quiet.

“Hurts,” Jared says. “My heart beats too much.”

Bryce looks extremely alarmed.

‘heart beats too much’ sounds like an alarming development without context, yes.

Bryce leans into him, nose nudging his hair.

“You scared the shit out of me, babe,” Bryce murmurs against his temple, barely louder than Jared’s own heart.

“Sorry,” Jared mumbles, and he feels the flutter of Bryce’s lashes when he shuts his eyes, forehead cool against Jared’s skin like maybe Jared’s running a fever.

Jared flinches at the sound of a toilet flushing, louder than it should be, but doesn’t put it together, cause and effect, until Stevie says, “Whoa, wifeys are going to be jealous.”

This is a real fucking soft moment for Stevie to blunder into. Also he’s usually better at this, but, you know: he’s a bit wired right now. Red Bulls. Finally getting to go home after literal weeks. Etc.

He doesn’t sound like his heart’s in it anymore, but Jared appreciates the attempt to keep it chill. Not chill enough, though: Jared can feel Bryce, a line of tight tension beside him, the space he put between them almost a presence in itself. And Jared knew Bryce telling Dmitry didn’t necessarily mean — he knew that. He shouldn’t be surprised.

He’s quietly so disappointed here. Easy to miss, since Bryce comes out in the same scene, but.

“Nothing to be jealous of,” Bryce says, and Jared’s half-expecting a ‘no homo’ moment, is just — tired — except Bryce says, “Considering we’re married to each other, so.”

So disappointed, and then Bryce keeps talking.

“Sorry,” Stevie whispers. “But — really?”

“Really,” Gabe says. He’s a few rows ahead, so if he overheard their conversation he’s not the only one. Jared doesn’t have the brain power to think about that right now. “Give them some space, Stevedore.”

Stevedore (dockworker) is such a good fucking nickname for a marine themed team. Only team it’d be better for is the Whalers.

Also such a Gabe nickname. Deep cuts from Gabriel Markson. Tate Williams would appreciate him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jared says.

“Yes I did,” Bryce says, and finds Jared’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

He really did. Standing at a distance from Jared when he was in pain, even though nothing was technically stopping Bryce from reaching out, getting updates from Gabe even though he was right there — once he sat down next to Jared he wasn’t getting up again. And once he was close enough to touch Jared nobody was hiding shit.

Jared is pretty sure that’s impossible, but he manages eventually, and not just a cat nap, because he wakes up to the change of air pressure, fingers still laced loosely with Bryce’s, who’s on his phone, typing awkwardly with his left hand.

Every time Bryce makes a decision he pretty much ensures it’s irrevocable. Okay: I’m out. Not letting go of my husband’s hand for the next few hours, anyone using the back bathroom can mind their own fucking business.

“I let everyone know you weren’t doing screentime,” Bryce says. “Your mom says to call them when you feel up to it. Her and your dad are super freaked out. And my mom. She sent me like, fifty texts while you were sleeping. Sorry, I’m talking too much. I was really — I’m talking too much. I’m sorry.”

He knows Jared has a headache so he’ll be quiet now, don’t worry.

(He was so fucking scared.)

“Yeah,” Bryce says, letting go of his hand to dig up a travel bottle. Jared’s fingers feel cold. He wonders if Bryce let go once when he was sleeping, or if he spent the entire trip with their fingers laced, texting Jared’s parents, Elaine, the group chat, awkwardly one-handed the whole time.

Second one.

Julius’ texts go from mildly concerned, to irritated Jared’s not answering, to moderately concerned, to angry Jared’s not answering, and then land on severely concerned. Jared wonders if they should wait to see if he hits infuriated that Jared’s not answering, or if he’s just going to stay in severely concerned until he gets a text back.

“Send him a thumbs up emoji and nothing else,” Jared says. “I wanna see how he responds.”

“I’m not doing that,” Bryce says, sounding utterly horrified, and Jared smiles.

Possibly the meanest thing Jared ever does to Julius, and he stole his blanket and introduced him to his evil sister. (Or, it would have been if Bryce had obliged. Which he was absolutely not going to do)

Jared doesn’t know if that’s something management already told them, but he doesn’t think so, because they’ve treated Jared the same since he got to Vancouver. He likes his coaches. Really hopes that isn’t about to change, go sour the way Jared’s relationship with Oilers management did.

Jared doesn’t mention coach reaction at length, focused more on team, but coaching staff continue to treat him exactly the same, minus a few awkward shoulder punches.

“I’m gonna drive you guys home,” Gabe says.

Bryce frowns. “I can—“

“No offence?” Gabe says. “You do not look good to drive right now, Bryce.”

Bryce 100% looks worse than Jared at this point.

They should buy him like, a fruit basket or something. Jared doesn’t really know what’s appropriate for ‘hey thanks for looking out for me after I got steamrolled and probably handling the guys so they didn’t come swarming us with questions’. Elaine will probably know. She’s good at those sort of things.

Elaine suggests a gift basket featuring chocolate.

“I don’t even know,” Bryce says. “Think there was a 7 on his jersey? It was a board battle, I don’t think it was on purpose.”

James, and no, it was not on purpose.

“You get him?” Jared asks, letting his eyes drift shut.

“Dima did,” Bryce says. “He said if I did I wouldn’t know how to stop.”

100% for the best, Bryce was not in his right mind; it wouldn’t have been a hockey fight, it would have been assault.

“Okay,” Jared says. “You don’t — you can touch me, you know. I’m not going to break.”

“Okay,” Bryce murmurs, fingers still slowly carding through Jared’s hair, and Jared can feel Bryce’s lips brush his forehead, so light that he knows Bryce doesn’t believe him.

Oh my darlings.

144. Unvarnished

“Have you just been sitting in the car the whole time?” Jared asks. He texted Bryce to meet at the car, but apparently he didn’t need to bother, since Bryce is exactly where Jared left him. He could have just arrived, but Jared has suspicions.

Bryce looks shifty. “I didn’t want to go far in case you needed me,” he says.

Jared is unsure what situation would involve Bryce being needed — certainly not a medical emergency, since Jared was being evaluated by medical professionals — but he holds his tongue for once, which is good, because Bryce is a very, very fragile man at the moment.

He doesn’t notice at first, on the phone with his mom, who sounds weirdly un-mom like, all soft,

The people who love him all had a really bad day yesterday. Jared accepts this in the case of Bryce, you’d think he’d acknowledge his own mom might be shaken.

Bryce looks simultaneously sheepish, apologetic, and completely unrepentant all at once. Jared’s kind of impressed. It takes skill to look like you’re very, very sorry, but also get fucking used to it.

‘I’m sorry and I will not stop’

Bryce clears the Gatorade and cheese and crackers to make room for himself. Jared would ask what he’s supposed to do if he wants one of those, but that’d probably get Bryce springing up and apologising for daring to take the space of any food or beverage that Jared may need in the future. He probably shouldn’t tease Bryce — he doesn’t look like sarcasm’s going to go over well at the moment. Jared’s not the only fragile one right now. Hell, Jared may be the less fragile one right now.

Jared has no idea.

Jared holds an arm out, and sighs when Bryce looks at it almost suspiciously.

“I’m lonely,” Jared says. It comes out over-the-top, but whatever, it gets Bryce tucking himself against Jared, albeit very carefully.

Bryce knows he’s being managed, but also, Jared said he was lonely.

after Jared hands him his phone, he reads Jared one from Stephen, saying he’s glad he’s doing okay and to let him or Gabe know if they need anything, one from Gabe saying basically the same thing, and one from Dima that’s a bunch of emojis Jared can’t really make sense of: whale, thumbs up, men holding hands, heart, prayer hands — or pleading, Jared’s never sure which it’s supposed to be — hockey stick, net.

Dima: 🐳👍👬❤️️🙏

Jared: 👍

“I guess we’ll see,” is all he says. If they disappoint Bryce he’ll — he doesn’t even know what he’ll do. They better not.

Man’s already offered to set the Saddledome on fire for Bryce, you think he’ll leave Rogers Arena intact just because they play in it?

“You see my fight?” Dmitry asks. “Kicked his ass for you.”

“Bryce isn’t letting me do screens,” Jared says.

Dmitry wheels on Bryce. “He needs to see my fight!”

Dmitry thinks Bryce’s priorities suck.

“Bryce is having a very intense conversation with Grayson about whether plus-minus should be abolished as a performance metric,” Gabe says. “So he’s fine.”

Bryce is pro abolishment. Because there are better ways to track a player’s defensive stats and what’s meant to be an individual performance metric is fundamentally a team one, and that’s bullshit. Grayson doesn’t even care that much, but now he’s stuck defending it to Bryce and his wildly gesticulating hands.

“Okay this is not me being homophobic, first off,” someone says in the hall outside the bathroom. “Seriously, I’m not that guy. Totally happy for them, love is love or whatever.”

Jared freezes, because starting a statement with a homophobia disclaimer is pretty much a guarantee something extremely homophobic is about to follow. He sees Gabe doing the same out of the corner of his eye.

“But like, Bullet’s married to Math?” the guy says. “Bullet’s like, friendly happy go lucky dude and Math’s like — Math’s kind of mean.”

This is objectively the funniest conversation Jared could ever overhear. And after his death glares/60, this season, it is so very deserved.

“Stephen’s mean,” Jared hisses at him. “And old! Mean and old. That’s who you picked. A mean, old person.”

Hmm, good work proving you’re not mean, Jared. (Stephen is two days older than Gabe.)

Everyone’s over-the-top friendly, asking him how his head is, telling him they’re glad he’s feeling better, saying congrats for their marriage like it just happened, while Jared mumbles ‘thanks’ until it stops sounding like a word to him.

People are showing care and concern for Jared and he does not like it.

Jared waits by the car after a very weird practice. Bryce is back on the plus-minus subject with Grayson, and he looked so happy that Jared didn’t want to drag him away from it.

‘Please’, says Grayson. ‘I don’t even care anymore., I just want to go home’

“Yes!” Jared says. “They keep asking me how my head is and telling me how glad they are I’m feeling better. Like, everyone keeps coming up to me and saying that like they’ve got a script or something.”

Those fuckers.

“They’re just acting like it’s all like—“ Jared says.

“Like it’s all what?” Gabe asks.

“Fine,” Jared says. “They’re acting like it’s all fine and normal.”

And here’s the rub. Nobody’s treating him any differently, and for all he said they wouldn’t, he didn’t actually expect that.

“You know I’m out to the team, right?” Gabe says. “And have been for awhile? You guys aren’t exactly the first queer teammates they’ve shared a room with. The guys who need time to adjust have already had that time.”

“Yeah but it’s like,” Jared says. “I don’t know. Different this time.”

I mean, it is different, in that it’s two teammates and also Bryce is a veritable super star, but also Jared: stop talking.

“I don’t know,” Jared says, frustrated by the pinched look Gabe’s giving him. “A bigger deal? It’s like. I don’t know. You wouldn’t get it.”

Baby gay exceptionalism.

“Isn’t it so nice to have lunch with these trailblazers, Gabe?” Stephen asks. “Laying the groundwork for future generations. I hope we can be like them someday. No, that’s asking for too much. I only hope that we can understand them one day, even just a little.”

Stephen came out around the age Jared is now. That was years and years ago, because, as Jared mentioned, he is mean and old.

“I’m not hopeless,” Gabe says. “Can’t be hopeless when I have you.”

“Ew,” Stephen says flatly. “You know how I feel about schmaltz, Gabriel.”

“I’m a little hopeless sometimes,” Gabe sighs.

Still madly, hopelessly in love.

“It’s absolutely adorable that you think there is any scenario in which I’d let this go,” Stephen says, tossing his hair.

“Steve,” Gabe says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stephen says. “‘If you keep tossing your hair it’ll lose its dramatic effect’, I know.”

One of my favourite lines in the entire universe. It was a privilege and also a delight to revisit Stephen Petersen when he isn’t deep in fight-or-flight.

He swears Gabe’s eyes twinkle. He thought that was just a thing from books.

“You’re not as nice as you pretend to be,” Jared says, stomping away.

Stephen Petersen is his soulmate, what did you expect.

“Mathematics!” Dmitry says, arms out.

“Quit hugging me it’s been forever since I got hurt!” Jared says, veering around him, and stomps the rest of the way to his stall.

It has been two days.

“What?” Jared snaps, and gets a dozen ‘don’t look at me’ raised hands. “What?”

“He is kind of mean, though,” Langley says, then, “You’re just proving my point, Math!” when Jared throws a glove at him.

This room is a little terrified of him. It’s great.

#liveblogging the end

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iminhiraeth · 1 year ago

Text

Limoreau Fic Ideas

because I have a terrible case of brainrot, I’m going to be listing all my fic ideas that I may or may not one day do. Who knows! But I figured I could share the brain thoughts in case somebody else needs a spark of inspiration :]

And Lmk if I should do more!! I’d absolutely be down to, but this is just a lil test of interest for neow. (Would also 100% be open with getting asks for blurbs like this on certain AU’s or concepts :])

Supernatural AU

Instead of 2 brothers on the road hunting the supernatural it’s Marie and Jordan, who are legacies of their monster hunter parents and are having to work together after their parents gave them an assignment before suddenly disappearing. Bonus points if Marie is actually a vampire and has to keep it under wraps, or Marie was turned into a vampire the same night Jordan was turned into a werewolf because the two of them were way too brave and confident they could handle a hunt on their own at the age of like. 8 or 9. Caused a lot of tension ofc because their families are HUNTERS !! Could be with super powers still except those with powers are all hunters and it’s like. A semi underground society that’s like idk. Men in black type of deal.

AU with boxer!Jordan

This one I imagine less as professional boxing and more as a sort of fight club. Everyone meets at a location that’s given only a day prior so they don’t get caught bc this shit is illegal, and Marie is dragged out to one by Emma bc Sam sometimes participates to blow off some steam. Marie ends up being the one who makes sure Jordan is alright after fights bc! I also think they’re only allowed to be in their fem form for the fights. (Due to make form being invulnerable to attacks.) Also sort of secret society but majority students in God U find out about it if the circles your in deem you worthy. (Aka you won’t snitch.) Jordan probably really gets a kick out of it too because they don’t have to be perfect in that space, and fighting just gives them some time to not have to think about anything else. Their parents were likely very strict and although God U does have public training n shit for crime fighting students, it could be that there’s just a lot less rules for these fights n’ nobody is nitpicking their form so they don’t have to worry about looking hero worthy. Just some college kids fighting underground, and maybe there’s a thing about there being an after party that usually turn out to be the best parties on campus. 100% just an excuse to have Marie patching up Jordan n being all hot n bothered over how they look in a fight. Bonus points if Jordan starts training Marie too and she starts signing up for fights.

Camp Counselors AU

This one explains itself honestly. Limoreau being rival camp counselors and always putting their teams against each other or some shit. They have a tally of their wins and have some sort of bet going on. After like their first year every other counselor was like why don’t you two just fuck already we’re tired of watching you flirt. Bonus points if it’s them reuniting after having gone to that camp when they were kids n even then we’re like. SERIOUS rivals. They could not get along for the life of them, but maybe one of them moved n they stood in the parking lot that year wanting to hug but not knowing if they were even friendly enough for that. They miss each other, much to their surprise, but then like idk 4-5 years later they coincidentally (Jordan for nostalgia?? Or bc their friends were like we should do something random for the summer… N maybe Marie because Annabeth wanted to go to the same camp for the summer.) both chose to come back to be counselors n when their friends try to introduce them they’re like we know each other already. (Likely Cate, Andre, Luke with Jordan and Marie with Emma and Sam??) Their homies then bear witness to the most sexually charged banter they have ever seen n are like you two… hate each other?? Are you sure?

Pirate/Siren AU

Pirate Jordan….. Siren Marie….. Froths at the mouth. That’s it, that’s the AU. I have no further thoughts other than Jordan washing up on fantasy island n Marie is laying there sunbathing next to them all oh ur awake!! Jordan short existential crisis of being attracted to a fish n then being relieved when Marie can change into a purely human form with small differences. (Sharper teeth and nails, a pointed tongue, a little more cat-like pupils, and a sort of strange gait to the way she walks.)

Alternatively, for Pirate/Siren, it could also be Pirate/Succubus

Marie ending up separated from her family after landing in human territory, Eek! Maybe b/c they’re like.. fantasy land royalty and we’re trying to strike a deal with this part of human land but then BAM betrayal, and as they’re fleeing Marie somehow gets pulled apart from them n their like find ur way back!! We’ll send Emma to come help you!! Jordan on the other hand is in search for a treasure that’s located in fantasy creature territory, and is in search of another crewmate after one jumped board. Marie gets rejected at first, since Jordan does not recognize her to be a succubus at first bc maybe… she has some magical amulet from her parents that blocks that perception of her for her own safety. Nor do they recognize her as royalty b/c I think it’d be fun if Marie was sort of? A veiled princess, nobody truly knows what she looks like but they’ve heard stories of what power she inherited. (Thinking that royal lineages are the ones who are supes.) Anyways, maybe that areas guards see her n recognize something she’s wearing so she’s like fuck it I’m jumping on board anyways Idc if you rejected me, n maybe it’s Cate who’s like ur in, I don’t know why Jordan was being an ass. Fairy!Emma joins them too either right after seeing Marie get on board or she was the one to be like FUCK WE HAVE NO OTHER OPTION JUST HOP IN !!

Bonus points if Jordan and Marie save each other at least once, and there’s cute moments of Marie showing Jordan places that are off their map (magic areas with like, cute little fantasy animals n just beautiful scenery bc I love that shit.) Marie basically on the run with Emma, maybe there’s also a part of the plot line where Marie has to deliver something to some magical beast or she was just tired! Of being holed up in that kingdoms castle just bc of her powers. Honestly could end with them reaching the place n Marie n Jordan are like strange that this is the same place I was going. N then they keep walking on the same path n their like are we… going to the same place right now. Edit: Forgot to add that Jordan would also probably come from a royal line, along with Cate, Andre, Luke and Sam! (Luke probably abandoning his position as king for some reason that could be adjacent to the whole situation with The Woods where instead of a virus being created it was just. An experimentation on Sam to try and see if they could come up with what essentially would be Compound V)

Post-Apocalypse AU

You can guess how majority of this goes. Could be that Compound V was made a lot earlier but somehow mutated and not only infected Supes, but also infected humans, which made them into zombies. Supes powers are dwindled down exponentially but they’re still a lot more enhanced in comparison to human zombies. Maybe Marie is on her own and finally thinking she’s reached the end of her line but then Andre comes in n is like hey!! Come with me lol I have a group n you seem cool. Andre explains to her that they’ve been on the search for a safe-haven they’ve been hearing about, and Marie is absolutely wowed bc she didn’t know any talk of that. Jordan is obviously irritated bc they’re like Marie is just body to protect and another mouth to feed W’s he’ll just slow them down blah blah blah. The usual Jordan looking out for themself first and foremost, but veiling it as a group thing. (Thinking it could be because they lost Luke n Brink n they just. Can’t take another loss like that, n it sort of feels like they’re just trying to fill a gap if they let Marie in. And they’d rather not stick their neck out for some stranger.)

Journey is long, Marie and Jordan have their moments of bickering and absolutely not getting along at first but after they find each other awake at night, both awoken by nightmares, they have a conversation and make a truce. They still snap at each other a little because they’re learning how to navigate one another but they’re noticeably a lot more friendly n are able to make jokes with one another. The group is like DAMN FINALLY !! Got sick n tired of hearing them constantly arguing. (Can especially see this situation bringing out the differences in Marie and Jordan’s moral compass. I feel like when in this setting, Jordan is a lot more willing to let others die if it means keeping loved ones safe. A lot more violent and unhinged and generally just a little bit scary, whereas Marie is the one who tries to see the good in people first instead of second even now. She’s more empathetic to the fact these zombies were humans once too, which could attribute to maybe Marie losing Annabeth to the virus. (Thinking that in this AU, bc compound V was made earlier that Marie’s powers didn’t show up until the apocalypse had already begun and possibly her parents were just in the line of fire when she freaked on a group of zombies, n Annabeth ended up bit but didn’t say anything. Except she was extremely irritable, slowly grew more sick, and eventually Marie had to lock Annie up n tried so hard to keep her alive until she realized forcing Annabeth to live like this was just cruel.) Marie probably ends up learning her lesson after a group they encounter stabs them in the back after Marie had JUST advocated for them. Jordan initially is rlly mad n is all up in arms about it bc they told her! They fucking told her! But quickly comes around when they realize Marie is genuinely having a whole factory reset bc of this n it just. Changes her perception completely, n Jordan almost mourns the fact that Marie had to learn things the hard away n they can’t just. Protect her from everything all the time.

#limoreau #mariejordan #gen v #marie x jordan #jordan li #marie moreau #gen v fanfiction #alternate universe #fic ideas

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harlequinoccult · 25 days ago

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ok well w that answer to my last ramble i hope you won't mind me coming back and rambling MORE-

the thing with Ariel "Vulpine" Fox (remember i said he has a Thing w foxes? his surname might have smth to do w that) is that, at his core, he is not a character that really fits into the vibes of slsq. and i love putting my ocs into Situations where they Do Not Really Fit In, because it forces me to think outside the box and go "ok, but what if they find themselves in that Situation anyway? how do i work with that while still keeping their character mostly intact?". and the mix of slsq and Vulpine is just * chefs kiss * especially delicious to me, bc Ariel always had a few screws loose, but he's always been a bit too level-headed to really lean into his innate madness, and slsq gives me the opportunity to really fuck with him and i love that-

Ariel's whole Thing is really that he's the perfect vigilante character. he would never make the profile of a serial killer. a killer, yes, oh he has no problem with killing you see, but it's usually done with some greater objective in mind. even in slsq im sure he's going to be extremely picky with his victims. the thing that really sets him off and makes him believe Murder Is Ok is injustice. because unfortunately for him, Ari has an unparalleled amount of empathy, which causes him to make some... contradictory decisions during his life. really, it all depends on who has earned his wrath. he will never kill poor people or people in need, in fact he usually goes out of his way to help them every single time, but put a cop in front of him and they're going to have the most slow, painful, cruel death possible.

there might be exceptions to the "no killing poor ppl/ppl in need" rule tho, if the person in question is an abuser who does nothing but inflict suffering on others and poison the local community with their toxicity. funnily enough, Carter fits the profile of Ariel's victims fucking perfectly, im honestly still thinking of a reason why he didn't kill Carter sooner other than "he didn't have enough time to do it". other people he'll definitely go after is the rich and corrupt politicians, which, not the best decisions for his anonymity or his safety, but if he's gonna get killing you bet your ass he'll try to cause some form of change while at it.

another thing he hates, has always hated and always will, is abuse of authority (which is why in his mind a good cop is always a dead cop). he has a general problem w authority even without the abusing part, especially hates when he's stripped of his autonomy and forced to do smth against his will (he IMMEDIATELY hates The Host on principle, and its going to get worse from here). he's always been a brat over being ordered around, even if he HAS to do what he's being told to do he's going to do it HIS way and fuck you if you have a problem w that. what matters is that he got the job done, isnt it? (i genuinely dont know how Carter managed to put up w him, those two together is a TERRIBLE mix)

most of all this does have to do w how he grew up, really. Ari is cannonically british (by which i mean, in my head he has a rlly subtle posh british accent that gets stronger the angrier he gets, which is even funnier to me bc the angrier he gets the more he swears and it usually involves a lot of FOCK and FOCKIN' and BLOODY being thrown around. like i get why OD would enjoy riling him up i rlly do-) which doesn't rlly have that much impact into his slsq story bc im not british and ik nothing abt britain but he is an immigrant and that's a lil bit important. to me. anyway-

he grew up in a very poor, very religious community somewhere in monarchy land (england), and was an extremely difficult, some would even say demonic, child. he's always had anger issues but it was MUCH worse when he was little (growing up he learns to deal w them to the point that getting him actually, truly angry without touching on what triggers him is extremely hard. good luck OD, his reaction to your annoying ass is mostly gonna be a sigh and a twitch of his fingers). his religious trauma, unlike w OD, has nothing to do w surviving catholic school (he went to a public school, somehow managed to be a massive nerd AND a delinquent at the same time, always had the highest notes of his class and was still despised by the teachers for being "disrespectful") and more w growing up surrounded by extremely religious people and realizing quite soon that praying did nothing to help w the systematic oppression they all were being crushed by. it only got worse when he started questioning the teachings of the church, growing more frustrated as he tried to get his peers to "see reason", and finally lost all hope when he went through his second exorcism (first one happened whem he was still very small, which im sure didn't fuck him up in any way whatsoever). has never entered a church since then, still knows some prayers that were burned into his brain and he can't forget no matter how hard he tries, genuinely believes that god never existed and if he did then he's fucking dead, and has a fascination w satanic symbols to this day that will probably never go away.

he had a somewhat mixed reputation growing up. in his tween years, he used the fact that he was considered "demonic" when little to scare and fuck with people who otherwise might have caused him problems. he got into constant fights in his childhood and his teen years, both because bullies would wrongly assume he'd be an easy target and then get punched and bitten and scratched until they cried, or because he was trying to protect someone else from being bullied. soon figured out that just not engaging unless someone else threw the first punch was a good way to de-escalate situations and keep him from getting in too much trouble (since he wouldn't be the one who "started it"), which was what made him begin to develop his stoic attitude. he started learning to control his anger because the people he wanted to protect were scared of him bc of his tendency to lash out, and because he realized that being in control of his emotions meant that he would fuck up less in high stress situations and make it easier to calm the people around him as well.

he got in constant trouble w the local authorities, being continuously searched and brought into the police station for a p big list of petty crimes (vandalism, theft, underage drinking, drug use, trespassing, public indecency, etc), but noticed that he was treated much more leniently than his POC friends who did much less shit than he did. which was also when his hatred for cops solidified.

life wasn't easy on him. he did a lot of questionable shit to get by, and he knows a lot of people in the same situations as him, so his morals are extremely gray as a consequence of it. he's not going to judge you for doing a bad. everyone does what they can to survive and survival is not a noble thing. he's extremely lenient w things that most ppl find unacceptable, and has a very clear understanding in his mind that everything is situational. which is why murder can be ok, and cannibalism can be ok, and any number of horrible things humans do can be justifiable and acceptable no matter what society says.

so he's not going to judge anyone on the cast of slsq for doing the things they do if they can justify it. but i can also very clearly see him killing the ones that do it just for the sake of it. with one exception: he will never murder the one he loves.

which is why i am sooooo excited to pair him up w OD, the one that kills p much without discrimination, and watch all the loopholes he forms in his mind to try and justify to himself why he's turning a blind eye to someone killing innocent people. he might try to nudge OD into having a smidge more of a standard, but if OD threatens to leave bc of it or gets too annoyed he's dropping it in a second. who knows, maybe OD is the one who might be able to convince him to drop the good guy "act" instead. who needs morals when you have love amirite?

i wouldn't say Vulpine is a yandere (there's too much effort to make sure that he and his loved one(s) are equals in every possible way for that i think), but with the borderline unhealthy, undying, nearly desperate devotion he develops for the ppl he falls for i think it's a pretty close thing tbh. he would do anything for his lover. anything. and he expects nothing in return. he just wants them to be happy, no matter what.

anyway uuuuhh there's so much more i can say abt Vulpine, i didnt even touch on his relationship w substance abuse or when he got arrested or his family, but this is already enormous, so have some specific slsq stuff instead (all of this is p much slsq specific tbh, Ari's backstory changes a lot depending on what story i decide to put him next, but some plot beats and traumas always stay the same): his mask of choice is similar to Cold's, a blank black mask, and his weapon of choice is a hunting knife. his specialty is informant (i was very tempted to make him a jack of all trades, bc one of his main characteristics is his adaptability, but i could NEVER envision him accepting doing that much for Carter. he would rather die), as mentioned previously his personality type is going to be apathetic w a side of caustic (still dont know if that's the right name but oh well), his clothing style is punk and practical and he wore ripped jeans for this bc he didn't know what he was getting himself into and he's soooo mad he didn't wear his cargo pants instead. he's actually kinda similar to Cold when it comes to superficial personality traits (stays quiet and observant most of the time, stealth killer, has a whole thing going on w shadows and anonymity and the mask, also exudes a intimidating aura that often scares people and gives him negative charisma. another reason he's not a jack of all trades is bc he'd make for an AWFUL bait)

and when in deep romance, if OD keeps trying to annoy him, he'll just kiss them to shut them up. it might just end up encouraging that kind of behavior long therm, but it works as a short therm solution so he doesn't rlly care-

(pt 1.)

Oh there is so much I could say that would veer into major spoilers for Overdose's route and beyond.

The Caustic personality is cynical, bitter, and sarcastic. Aggressive options will be separate and compatible with every personality type (aggressive doormats have been...interesting to write. imagine the most neurotic chihuahua-)

And concerning mc and Carter....there aren't a lot of job opportunities in Newcreed that aren't y'know, soul crushing drudgery, no matter what your relationship with Carter was, it was enough to pay rent if mc lived alone, or enough to afford necessities if they lived with the bastard.

And getting into Newcreed itself, The city is rotten. Crime rate is so high and the mayor doesn't do shit, the police don't do shit and the roads are fucked, but hey, expansive public transit and rent is low as hell. A lot of people immigrate to Newcreed (Cold and Sweetheart and his family are examples of this) because its a cheap place to live and the barriers for employment are little to none.

#i must stress that Newcreed police are even more useless than other cities police #yet are paid exorbitantly well.#slasher mcs

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moonbyulsstuff · 2 years ago

Note

Taehun w/ a gf who is Manager Kim's daughter. They bith met through their fathers

Meant To Be.

Female Reader.

Requested.

Request Rules.

Masterlist.

6 - 10 years old.

"Taehun!"

The young girl cried out as the dark haired male ran off with her plushie, the boy was much more faster than her since she wasn't that athletic. Taehun stopped and put his hands on his waist with a cocky smirk.

"What? Can't keep up?"

"Give it back!"

[Name] said as tears began to call out of her eyes, Taehun sighed and rolled his eyes. "Then try and get back! I won't just give it back to you just because you cried!" He said as [Name] wiped the tears away from her face but the tears kept on coming.

"Taehun!"

"Then chase me then!"

"What's with the commotion?"

Taehun flinched and slowly looked behind him and saw Manager Kim standing there menacingly, he gulped. "U=Um... nothing..." He said hiding the plushie behind him.

"Then why is my daughter crying?"

"Um..."

"Taehun won't give Mr. Buns back!" [Name] said as Taehun knew it was over, Manager Kim flicked Taehun forehead which the young boy yelp and held his forehead while also dropping the bunny plushie down on the ground.

Manager Kim picked it up and walked towards his daughter and kneeled down as [Name] smile appeared once Mr. Bun was given back to her.

"Taehun..." The said boy looked up and saw his father looking down at him with a frown and crossed arms. "What?" Taehun said as he pouted while Hansu sighed. "You know, you can't just do that to [Name], you know her." Hansu said as Taehun slowly nodded.

"I know..." He said as he looked at the young girl who was smiling brightly as her father ruffled her hair. 'I just wanted her to be strong...'

13- 15 years old.

"Taehun, did you study for the test today?"

A young beautiful girl approached Taehun who was sitting alone by his desk, he looked up and nodded making [Name] sniffled a laughter. "Wait, really?" She said as Taehun got irritated at the look on her face.

"Of course I did!"

"Yeah... sure..."

"You...!"

[Name] laughed as she pinched Taehun cheek, without noticing the jealousy stares that was being targeted at Taehun.

"Damn! I'm so jealous!"

"I hate Taehun but this makes me hate him even more!"

"I hate Taehun."

"Being so close to a goddess."

"He's going to taint her!"

Taehun glared at the people who were whispering shit to one another, they all became quiet except for a few chattering. He then looked back at [Name] who was talking off about some show she saw yesterday, yeah, he was indeed lucky.

She still stuck by him even though he became an asshole, all those past years. Taehun had become an annoying asshole and bully overall but [Name] had stuck with him while also pestering him about his terrible behavior.

And over the past few years, Taehun had grown attractive which earned admirers but were too scared on actually confessing because of his attitude. And the same thing could be said to [Name], she had grown attractive which earned admirers.

But unlike Taehun's admirers who only watched by the sidelines, scared because of his attitude. [Name] admirers were much more confident, the girl was out-going and just made you feel like you chance.

But with Taehun by her side, it won't be easy.

"And so, he actually was the one who ended dying anyway. Man, I fucking hate it so much! Like what does he have to die?!"

And now the two were now walking back home from school, Taehun as always listens to [Name] rambling off.

He doesn't mind it one bit, he actually likes it. Taehun likes to hear her voice at all times and wouldn't mind listening to for hours, or years.

"But say, Taehun.."

"What?"

"Remember the letter I received two weeks ago?" She asked as they both remember the letter had been given to her two weeks ago, Taehun nodded.

"Yeah, but I bet they're some bitch boy." Taehun said making [Name] chuckle once again while shaking her head. "Anyway, I received a letter once again earlier." She said taking out the letter from her bag, causing her to stop as well as Taehun.

"And what does it say?"

"It says that they wanted to meet me tomorrow after school, they probably want to confess..."

Taehun froze as he heard those words coming out from her mouth, his mind overthink, thinking of the worst possible scenarios.

'What if she accepts? What would happen to our friendship? What about my feelings?'

Taehun was so deep in thought, he didn't even realize what [Name] was saying to him.

"Taehun? Taehun...?" She said as she snapped her fingers in front of his face causing him to snap out of it. "U-Uh? Y-Yeah, sure..." He said looking down on the ground, [Name] had a worried look on her face.

It seems like something was bothering Taehun, but she didn't know it was about the confession.

"Wait up for me, all right?" She asked as Taehun nodded as she walked off, without knowing that the male was following behind her.

He just wanted to check it out, all right? It's not like he's afraid, totally, not at all. Taehun hid behind the wall as he watched the confession.

The heavy feeling on his heart but then saw [Name] shaking her head at them and then bowing, it seems like they understood as the two walked away from each other. Taehun jogged away and back to where he was last time.

"So how did it go?" He asked, acting like he didn't care. "Well, at least they understand that I like someone else." [Name] said while Taehun was cheering mentally, but also was wondering on who it was.

"Really? Who is it?"

[Name] looked down on the ground as her face turned red, her fingers fiddle with each other as she stopped, causing Taehun to stop as well and looked behind him.

He saw how red her face, as he was beginning to feel jealous on who this person was. She then looked at him straight in the eye.

"It's you..."

18 years old.

"Hah?! Taehun has a girlfriend!?"

"Why is it so shocking?"

The said male asked while leaning against the couch. "It's jus... just that you're... an asshole.." Snapper said as the others except Yeonu nodded.

Taehun kissed his teeth as he looked to the other way. "So? We've known each other since childhood, and we both like each other so, it was offical for the two of us." He explained as Rumi giggled.

"Childhood friends to lovers, what a wonderful love story."

"Wah, I can't believe there's someone that would put up with Taehun's behaviour..."

"How about you shut the fuck up Magi."

"It's Mangi..."

Knock knock!

"I'll get it!"

Gaeul said as she stood up and walked towards the door as the others argue, she opened the door and was greeted by a tall/short woman wearing a white shirt with apricot blazer and a denim shorts.

"Is Taehun here?"

"Y-Yeah! Are you his girlfriend?" Gaeul asked as [Name] nodded. "Yup, me and him are going on a date." She said as was then dragged by Gaeul towarda where the others were.

"Taehun! Your girlfriend is here!"

The others stopped as they looked to where Gaeul was and saw a beautiful woman behind them, she bowed down and greeted them.

"Good afternoon, I'm [Name] [L.Name]. I'm here for Taehun." She said as the brown haired man snapped out of it and walked towards his girlfriend and hung his arm around her neck.

"Well, then see ya!"

The two left as others were still quiet before it turns to screams.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!??!?!?!"

"UUUUUUUHHHHHH!?!?!!?!?!?"

"WHAT THE FUCK!?!?"

"OH MY GOD!!"

"You alright?" [Name] asked as she saw how much Taehun was sneezing right now, he nodded. "Yup, just allergies." He said as [Name] nodded and leaned against his body while their hands were behind them.

It was quiet between the two before Taehun spoke.

"I love you..."

[Name] smiled sweetly.

"I love you too...."

#taehun seong #viral hit #how to fight #viral hit x female reader #how to fight x female reader #x female reader #female reader #requested #🌙moonbyulsstuff works #taehun #fluff

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monochromegee · 9 months ago

Note

Any lighting tips? <3

Oh boy, I could swear there are rules to lighting, but I rarely stick to them myself, because I have a terrible memory and rendering is the bane of my existence. There are many different ways to use lighting, and I don't know how helpful the tips I can offer are, but a first good step is to determine the source of your light. What I like to do often is use a color gradient where one side of the figure is already a bit darker and the other a little lighter, like there for example:

I like to use that little trick to get the direction roughly down, save a bit of time and add more volume to things.

Another tip I could give is to not be scared to create contrast in places where light doesn't really reach. It's a bit scary to me as well, still, but pushing contrast can add a lot to the illusion.

If you use that though, you have to make sure to understand mid tones as well. These are basically the values somewhere in between your darkest and lightest spots. Light likes to scatter, especially on softer surfaces that don't have many hard edges, so mid tones are really important to suggest the shape of the thing that's being lit. This could be an example:

Rim light is also an effective way to make something stand out more, and what I learned recently is that it works way more effectively if you try and vary its weight, to kinda make it hug around the shapes it sits on, like here:

There are most likely exceptions, but those are rules that always apply to lighting and maybe they can help you understand it a little bit better! I constantly break those rules myself though, so I wouldn't bet that my art makes a good guideline for learning about lighting. I can only recommend using lots and lots of references. Photographs are the most reliable source there is, you can learn a LOT from those, or study some masters paintings to see how they use lighting.

So yeah, these are probably the best tips I can come up with, I'm not very good at explaining things, so I hope this helps a little bit :')

#thanks for the ask!#ask answered #art tips #lighting #art tips with mono #art #digital art

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ghastlybin · 2 years ago

Note

HI HI HI PLEASE IF YOU STILL WRITE FOR ATZ I NEED A YEOSANG FALLEN ANGEL AU WHERE HE’S THE READERS GUARDIAN DEMON OR WHATEVER THE OPPOSITE OF THE GUARDIAN ANGEL IS AND HE ENDS UP FALLING IN LOVE WITH THE READER ~ overexcited atiny anon 🙈

I love how everything was all caps except “overexcited atiny anon” LMAO as always, thank you so much for the request :,) I love Yeosang sm and this also took a long time to WRITE SO thank you for being patient and sooooo sorry for being hella late on this ily <33333

Pairing: Fallen angel/“Guardian” Demon! Yeosang x (GN) Reader

Feat: Guardian angel! Wooyoung, (domestic) demon! San, Reaper! Seonghwa, Souls Keeper! Hongjoong, (domestic) Angel! Jongho, bestie! yunho, & other bestie! Mingi

Word count: 13,028 (estimated)

Genre/contents: Demon/Angel! AU, Angst, maybe *some* fluff but don’t quote me, past criminal! Reader AU also lol

!!!!TW: Lotta blasphemy, Lotta cuss words/ mature language, blood, anxiety/fear, nightmare, guns, knives, weapons, near death, hospital mentions, revenge, familial/loved one loss mention, *kinda* gang mention?, past criminal history, youredefgoingtohelllmao, murder, unresolved trauma, kidnapping, poorly written fight scenes, death mention but it’s only brief, angsty overall lmao

Note: Not much to say other than I have no creativity with original names so the main antagonist is just “your enemy” etc. lmao. Also I love Yeosang so THANK YOU for requesting him but also please never fcking tell him about this long ass fic lmao before I get on with the fic, also know that I *tried* with the whole romantic sub-plot, fluffy cute shit but if you know me you know I suck at those 🥹🤟 I also do not know how to end a fcking sentence or stORY and I have thoroughly pissed myself for making this long bc editing is hell, it is 3 AM as of rn its fine if this flops I will cry (jk jk) If you read this, I love you. if you don’t, I still love you. also beware it’s a bit dialogue heavy. Goodnight.

btw Yeosang in this fic is halazia era Yeosang but this was the only gif I found that he wasn’t smiling in which definitely isn’t matching the theme I had in mind lmfao

There was the belief that everyone had their own guardian angel watching over them. Some people believed in it fully, others merely acknowledged it, and the rest dismissed the idea.

Those who believed it often had guidance and lived fulfilling lives.

Those who merely acknowledged it went on to lead normal lives, whether they were fulfilled or lived terrible lives, it was considered normal.

Those who dismissed it led arguably worse lives than the normal route.

But no one talked about the demons.

The ones who raise anxiety within you when something around you was wrong. The ones who send waves of depression that in turn, make you cancel the plans that would turn out disastrous due to some form of danger.

They were the ones that took the guidance you were given and manipulate it somehow to keep you alive, even if a bit reckless at times.

No one ever acknowledged that maybe demons could be helpful.

Demons were aggressive, but they sure did get the job done.

Yeosang never wanted to be a demon. He trained and abided by the rules, well on his way to becoming a guardian angel for whichever soul he was assigned to.

He was the top-ranked angel, even.

All it took was one mistake.

“Yeosang. You’re up.”

Yeosang always did as he was told. He passed every test, treated everyone with respect, he did everything. He thought it was bullshit that one mistake suddenly demoted him to a demon.

Bullshit.

He could think that now. He wasn’t an angel anymore, though he still acted like one. He wouldn’t be someone’s guardian angel either. Not anymore.

“This is bullshit,” Yeosang spoke out loud this time as the head demon showed an ounce of surprise at Yeosang’s language.

“Ha! That was fast. Looks like I just lost a bet.”

Yeosang frowned. He still couldn’t believe his surroundings. Everything smelled like blood and gore and that was how it smelled before he was even let into the title fair.

“Seriously though, you’re holding up the line, fallen angel. Go to table eight.”

Yeosang forced himself to walk forward and into the gross, humid area where every demon was assigned a title, or in angel terms, your soul's commitment.

The real difference, other than being surrounded by demons who had immortal sins attached to them, was the fact that demons weren’t called upon individually onto a gorgeous stage in front of thousands of other demons, proud to be promoted as a God or Goddess, Soul Keeper, Guardian Angel.

No. Down here, it was Demons, Reapers…

“Kang Yeosang?”

“Yes.”

“You’re listed as a Guardian Demon.”

Yeosang began to laugh, causing the man at the table to give him a strange look.

“That’s not a real soul's commitment!”

“What the hell is a soul's commitment?” The man heavily sighed, leaning back in his chair. Yeosang still grabbed the name tag with his name and title on it, but still found it laughable.

“Wait! You already have a human soul bound to you.” The man called out before Yeosang had gotten a considerable distance away.

“What? Like a soulmate?”

“Is there a problem?” A guard came up to them. The man at table eight was now standing as well.

“Nope. I have this under control.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes, “I’m not supposed to be here. I’m a damn angel!”

“Alright, wait in the back of the line again and come back when you have an attitude fix” the guard roughly put a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder. Yeosang didn’t budge but he did flinch.

“Hey, that’s not necessary! I will handle him.” The man at table eight walked around the table and tried to get in between the two as much as he could. “He’s just in denial. They usually are.”

The guard scoffed, “I don’t have time for this. Next time he causes trouble, I’m sending him to the boss. You too, San.”

“You too, San,” Yeosang mumbled under his breath mockingly as the guard walked away. San slapped Yeosang’s arm, shaking his head.

“I don’t usually do that for anyone. You better be grateful.” San went back behind his table and gave Yeosang a small, rusted box that was way heavier than it looked.

“Doesn’t seem like it, but that contains any and everything you need to know about your human.” San sighed, “every memory, every fear, every-“

“Every happy moment?”

San shook his head, letting it slide that Yeosang had interrupted him.

“No. That’s in the angel department.”

Yeosang had already exhausted his explanation, I am an angel. He wasn’t about to reaffirm that to a demon.

“If I have any questions, is this where I find you?”

San scratched the back of his neck, followed by another head shake. “I’m just a volunteer today.”

“Volunteer?”

“Anyone who sins has to volunteer or they are sent off to any punishment of the boss’ choosing.” San sat back down in his seat, “I hear no punished demon has ever come back the same.”

Yeosang shifted the box to his other arm to be sure it wouldn’t fall. All while maintaining a curious gaze toward San, “So it can get worse here. What did you do?”

“I set one fire that just so happened to turn into one giant one- Which is not my fault! I’m not the one that stored kerosene in a shed built with rotted wood… Amateurs.” San looked around the place, waiting for another demon to come up to his table.

“It was so fucking cool though.”

Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows, “Sure. Where do I go?”

“Don’t know. Not my department. Just find a cozy spot and open the box, I guess. Get to know your human that may or may not end up here in less than a century.”

Yeosang walked off, having exhausted any questions he currently had. That wasn’t to say he wouldn’t have any later.

Y/N.

Yeosang read your name and looked into every detail of your life that he had access to. All the while he had found a spot in the corner between a wall and a trashcan that somehow had a slightly less atrocious smell than the entire realm.

He knew your fears, worries, guilts, sins, and pretty much anything that an angel wouldn’t have access to if they were promoted guardian angels.

The rusted box became less heavy as he absorbed more information regarding you.

Yeosang was actually fascinated by you and all he knew were considered the ‘ugly’ parts of you.

And somehow he did not find anything ugly at all.

His entire career as an angel, he was taught what makes a person a good person.

The more that he had learned about you only left an itching in his brain that wouldn’t go away.

How does any of this make a person bad?

Why was this information only demons had access to?

Yeosang closed the empty box after every bit of information had been collected and ingrained in his mind. He had no use for the box but figured he should hold onto it anyway.

He let out a disappointed sigh and looked up at the red sky above him.

Maybe I don’t need your forgiveness.

The past month swirled in his mind. Memories of his rise and fall as an angel created a bittersweet feeling in his chest that even he wouldn’t be able to describe.

I know I didn’t deserve to be easily replaced.

But those thoughts were just thoughts and Yeosang knew they wouldn’t change anything.

The land of the living.

Where everyone had to pay just to live. Everyone had to work and to no avail. Most lived from paycheck to paycheck that just ended up in the hands of the rich again and then it was back to work with no time at all for themselves.

Hell, even semi-immortal, you had to work every day. But not like this.

Yeosang had never been on earth before today. Only caught glimpses during training, but this is earth?

This had to be hell.

Yeosang looked for you. He knew your location. He knew your face, name, age, and even your height.

But he did not know your exact location. Just the town and building where your workplace was.

“Oh, what the hell.” Yeosang mumbled, his shoulders drooping upon seeing just how many people were in the building. Finding you would prove to be difficult.

On his first day on the job and he was already tempted to break the rule of never showing a human your face.

That was a common Angel rule. Demons, well, they had no rules, technically. As long as you aren’t setting fires and causing mass casualties, that is.

Yeosang was an Angel. He was a perfect angel. At least he used to be.

“Yeosang?”

Until Wooyoung got into trouble.

“Speak of the devil and he appears,” Yeosang muttered, pivoting to face his friend.

“Devil? Pssh, you mean certified Guardian Angel?” Wooyoung grinned. Yeosang saw the halo and the very faint wings that only Wooyoung had.

Yeosang felt his heart sink. Jealousy, anger, grief, and even pride, all jumbled in the same pot that contained his emotions.

“Oh.”

Yeosang didn’t mean to hint at his disappointment. After all, it wasn’t toward Wooyoung. It’s not like Wooyoung forced Yeosang to save him from being denounced and outcasted.

Wooyoung didn’t send Yeosang to eternal hellfire, unforgiven, and all of his hard work amounted to nothing.

What was originally Wooyoung’s mistake, turned into Yeosang’s. Yeosang, who would- and did save his friend from the wrath of the gods and goddesses.

“I never got to tell you how sorry I am.” Wooyoung had immediately changed in demeanor, his grin was now a slight, sorrowful frown. “You deserve this halo more than I do.”

“Don’t. There’s no use in being sorry… Being a demon isn’t so bad.” Yeosang forced a smile, even though he was lying. Wooyoung knew he was lying.

“I know it’s killing you inside.”

“You were assigned to a human in here too, right?” Yeosang dodged the subject further. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it.

He did, but how to approach it? What to say? Would it make a difference?

“Yes. They are named Y/N.”

Yeosang froze, looking at Wooyoung in disbelief.

“My human's name is Y/N.”

Now Wooyoung was in disbelief. No one had told them that a single human would be assigned two vastly different guardians.

Amidst the crowd of people, their gaze had gravitated toward you, watching as you appeared to be quickly walking out of the building.

While Wooyoung saw your actions as you just trying to get home after a long day, Yeosang sensed the danger.

He had an immediate tunnel vision developed for you as well as the strange yet dangerous person who had been following you.

“Do me a favor and let me handle Y/N by myself.”

Then Yeosang left the building and followed the person that was following you.

You knew what you were doing when you pissed off the wrong person. Them being the wrong person only dared you to piss them off more.

All you did was minor. Setting a car on fire, cutting the brakes to their secondary vehicle, and causing a minor injury to this person that was after you, all were minor actions compared to what they did to you.

You knew they were following you, trying to get you alone. They’ve been attempting to ever since their discharge from the hospital.

They were powerful but you were smart.

You rounded a corner and immediately hid. The only problem was, this person wasn’t following you anymore. And judging by the tone they carried in their voice, it seemed someone had stopped them.

“What do you want? Get out of my way.”

You took this time to leave the area completely, now that they were distracted.

Yeosang felt you had left by the feeling of you pulling apart from him. He knew he couldn’t go a certain distance from you, that was just an unspoken rule.

However, he was not prepared for how excruciating it felt.

Yeosang fell to the ground in the most unbearable pain he had ever felt while the person, whom he had revealed to be a wanted serial killer and gang leader, had walked passed Yeosang and in your pursuit.

Yeosang reached his hand up to grab this man’s leg in an attempt to stop him but was instead met with even more excruciating pain from the memories absorbed.

He saw you and this dangerous man’s connection to each other. The man that caused you so much pain.

He murdered almost everyone you loved over a disagreement you had.

You were once a part of a team with that man. A partner in crime, only, you’ve both hated each other from the get-go.

Yeosang felt your emotions, your anger, your grief, but most of all, he felt your unwavering need for revenge.

Yeosang had regained his bearings, the pain eventually subsiding as he was met with the familiar scent of blood, rotting meat, and something he couldn’t attach an existing smell to.

“You’re welcome.”

San.

He must have spotted Yeosang and decided to check on him. Or maybe San brought him back from the land of the living.

“What?” Yeosang hadn’t meant that as a question but more as a statement. San smiled widely, picking Yeosang up off the ground.

“You’re welcome for saving you from having your soul ripped out.” San further explained. Yeosang was still very much confused.

“That’s what happened?”

“Yep. Go too far from your soulmate and not only do you possibly die, but they will eventually die an early death too.” San put his hand on Yeosang’s shoulder and led him towards a seating area as they trudged through a patch of mud and fresh blood.

“They aren’t my soulmate, that’s-“ Yeosang stopped himself and took a deep breath before continuing.

“What about their guardian angel?” Yeosang asked. He wondered if Wooyoung felt the same pain. Thinking about it made Yeosang feel guilty for telling him to stay away from you.

“Guardian Angel? Only humans who are on the borderline of redemption and damnation have a Demon and an Angel.” San sat down on a crate made out of human bones and motioned for Yeosang to sit on a similar crate as well.

“San,” Yeosang groaned, putting his head in his hands upon sitting down. “What does that even mean?”

San sighed in response, but further elaborated, “Y/N, a criminal, has one more screw-up with the law before they are either sent to your old Angel realm or to your current Demon realm where you will both be together, forever.”

San looked around the barren wasteland of fresh and old blood, mud, human bones, and even the occasional demon remains.

“It’s up to you and the Angel. If you succeed, you’ll have a better chance of getting them into redemption. If the Angel succeeds, well, Y/N is coming down here in our humble abode.” San pulled out a canteen full of whatever drink only San knew.

“Crazy how that works. Huh?”

You locked every available lock to your hotel room and even covered the bottom of the door with an extra sheet to avoid anyone from trying to pick the lock.

Nothing scared you, yet you were on edge. You weren’t ready to die, not without revenge.

But you weren’t afraid of dying either.

You received a call, forgetting to turn off your phone, only to see it was just Yunho.

“You can’t just call! What if someone tracks you?!” You spared any form of greeting and went straight into scolding him.

Yunho was silent for a few seconds after you ended your sentence.

“Well, hello to you too. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that they are moving into phase two.”

“What the hell is phase two?”

“Killing you. Y/N. They are planning to kill you.”

Yeosang listened from the corner of the room, invisible to you at the moment, but if you were to take a picture of him, he’d appear.

There were other ways he could make himself visible, even. But he chose to let it play out, observing until something was about to happen.

“Let them try.”

“Y/N, You need to leave town. As your current only friend, I beg you.”

“Goodbye, Yunho. Use a burner next time.”

You hung up before he could protest. You had a plan and you weren’t about to stop it in its tracks before it could start. Not even for Yunho, as much as you hated to worry him.

Yeosang sensed danger again. Only this time, it was impending. A danger that would come in a few hours. When you had gotten ready to sleep, Yeosang dreaded having to use his demonic abilities.

It was the only way, though. He wasn’t an angel anymore, sure, but he didn’t like being a demon.

“I am so sorry.” He mumbled. He touched your head with his fingertips and conjured the worst nightmare he could send as a warning about the impending danger.

Yeosang stood back, grimacing as you began to tremble and squirm, your breathing was out of your control and you had even begun to mumble fast.

“I am so sorry,” Yeosang repeated, looking away from you to avoid the guilt he felt. “But you should’ve listened to Yunho.”

Your heart thudded against your chest, your vision blurry as bile rose in your throat. You were running and whatever- Whomever- was chasing you would be an arm's length from catching you.

You were terrified. The earth beneath you felt like jello that would trip you at any given moment. You tried running faster, jumping, and even flying just to get away.

But to no avail, you were not fast enough.

You screamed as loud as you could, your voice catching in your throat as you slapped a hand against your chest.

You were in the hotel room. The sun had begun to rise, shining through the curtains. You actually slept the entire night for once.

Yeosang couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with you, despite you not being able to see him.

You had a nightmare, the first since, well… Since you lost almost all of the people you loved.

You knew it was because of your criminal past. You weren’t sure it was even in the past just yet, but the point is, you knew the dangers.

It was just your subconscious telling you to stay away, trying to instill a fear that would burrow itself inside of you until it’s deeply rooted in your mind to stop trying to get justice for your lost loved ones.

“I just have to push through it.” You whispered to yourself. After all, it was only a nightmare.

If you had a vision instead, well, you still would’ve had your mind set on revenge. Nothing was changing that.

Yeosang stared at you, dumbfounded. All of that work and his plan failed. His first time using his demonic capabilities and it was futile. Yeosang, already fed up, slapped his palm against his forehead.

“Oh my fucking god.” He really couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Yeosang stood up and closed his eyes, phasing back into the demon's realm.

“So, I read more about Y/N.” San poured Yeosang a drink, which he downed in one gulp a second later. “They set a vehicle on fire? Yeosang! Why did you gate keep that information?!”

“Gate keep? It’s in the public records.”

San rolled his eyes, hesitantly pouring Yeosang another drink, only for Yeosang to down that in one gulp as well.

“At least take a second to taste it. I brewed it using the herbs in purgatory.” San frowned.

“You can harvest herbs from Earth?”

“You’re funny.” San scoffed, “you’ve never met a reaper, have you?”

“Only the Souls Keeper. Hongjoong.” Yeosang allowed San to pour him some more of whatever he had brewed.

“Reapers are different from Souls Keepers.”

Yeosang groaned. The more he learned, the more he wished this information was just an unspoken fact. He wished there was a way to automatically know everything, whether it was shot up his veins or absorbed in his brain.

“Seonghwa is the lead Reaper. You can go into purgatory and meet him. It’s also your only link with other Angels if they agree to meet you… Maybe you and Wooyoung can meet and get on the same page or something.” San handed Yeosang a key that was larger than his hand.

“That’s my spare key. Do not lose it. It unlocks the gates to the purgatory realm and you won’t be able to leave without it.”

Yeosang looked over the key, turning it over in his hands, and felt the weight of it.

“Seonghwa has the only direct line to the Angels, so you’ll have to talk to him anyway. He’s usually cooperative with most of us demons. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

Yeosang stood up from the chair San had in his living space. It wasn’t much, but San didn’t seem to mind and it wasn’t Yeosang’s place to degrade a house that wasn’t his.

“Thank you, San.” Yeosang held the heavy key in his hands, flashing a quick smile at the younger demon. San smiled back, only wider and longer lasting than Yeosang’s.

It didn’t take long for Yeosang to find the gates leading to purgatory. Especially with the key he had. He wondered if it would have appeared without the key.

Yeosang lifted the key and fit it perfectly into the keyhole before turning it. The black gates had creaked open, the sound echoing throughout both realms.

Once the gates had opened, Yeosang retrieved the key to honor San’s wishes. Yeosang was pleasantly surprised by the change in scent. It wasn’t much of a change, but it sure was better than the amalgamation of many horrid stenches.

“Seonghwa?” Yeosang called out. He had never stepped into the purgatory realm before. Yeosang was then startled by a tapping on his shoulder, immediately turning to face whomever it was.

“You called?” Seonghwa, presumably, raised an eyebrow, dropping the arm he used to tap Yeosang’s shoulder, to his side.

“Yes… I’m Yeosang, I was-“

“I know who you are. You’re the Fallen Angel. The first Guardian Demon.” Seonghwa nodded in the direction he had begun to walk. Yeosang followed, surprised at how much Seonghwa knew about him.

Word must travel fast.

Seonghwa took a deep breath, inhaling the mist that blanketed the realm.

“I admire what you did for Wooyoung.”

“You know what happened?” Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows. He felt a sense of dread, hoping the truth wouldn’t come out and then Wooyoung would be stripped of his Guardian Angel title.

His soul's commitment.

“You’d think your gods and goddesses would know all. But I won’t tell anyone. I know everyone’s story. And if you don’t believe me, ask Hongjoong. He knows the truth too.” Seonghwa gave Yeosang a quick pat on his back. “Hongjoong and I, are not bound by rules or contracts or commitments. We will not tell a soul.”

Yeosang scratched the back of his neck as he followed Seonghwa. “It’s good that you know Wooyoung because I have to talk to him.”

“Can’t.” Seonghwa’s reply was so quick that Yeosang wasn’t sure he heard him right.

“What?”

“Wooyoung is busy with his human. I can’t contact him directly right now.”

“Damnit!”

Seonghwa laughed, “Just go to Earth. What’s the worst he can do? Kill Y/N?”

“Yes!” Yeosang ran back towards the gate, lifting the heavy key again and repeating the process of entering, by exiting.

Yeosang felt you near.

He also felt Wooyoung near. And as soon as he found Wooyoung, Yeosang pushed Wooyoung against a wall, angrily pinning him to it.

“What the hell?! I told you to let me handle them!”

“I can’t just stay away! They are my human too!” Wooyoung stared at his friend, wide-eyed. Yeosang loosened his grip and let him go, not wanting to hurt him.

“You know if you help them, they will be commissioned as a demon.” Yeosang glanced over at you as you continued walking, unbeknownst of their short-lived conflict.

“I know. But there has to be another way without you traumatizing them.” Wooyoung crossed his arms. Yeosang shot a glare at him, following you as he started to feel a tinge of pain the further you walked away.

“It was one goddamn nightmare… And it didn’t work. They are dead set on getting revenge.”

“I can change that!” Wooyoung jogged after You and Yeosang and met his friend's pace.

“You need to go back to the Angel realm and let me handle Y/N.”

“Are you upset with me? I said I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t make the gods and goddesses forgive me! It was humiliating, Wooyoung! You shouldn’t have been getting into shit you knew you weren’t supposed to!” Yeosang halted his steps and faced Wooyoung. Every ounce of hurt was evident on Yeosang’s face.

“Yeo-“

“You saw how fast they replaced me! They didn’t give me a second chance! If you make another mistake, I won’t be there to save you!”

“Then why did you?! Why did you lie and say you did it?”

Yeosang was on the verge of letting every tear he held back puddle to his feet. Wooyoung manipulated the future Guardian Angel database. Hacked into it, as humans would call it.

“Because…”

Wooyoung wanted to be sure that his friend had been granted the Lead Guardian Angel souls commitment. But he was caught by Yeosang, who took the fall for it as Angel guards were immediately alerted.

Yeosang yelped, the pain he had ignored had grown significantly larger the further you had walked away. Wooyoung was unaffected.

“Yeosang? Are you okay? What’s going on?” Bombarded by questions, Yeosang had attempted to crawl toward your direction in an attempt to lessen the pain.

He felt a chill run down his spine, sensing danger coming your way.

“Y/N!” Yeosang yelled just before his vision had darkened as the excruciating pain had become too unbearable.

Your mortal enemy was powerful. That was a fact. You were smart. That was also a fact.

You were alert, but he was strong.

You were guarded, but he outnumbered you.

You were even stubborn, but in your mind, you had to be. Otherwise, bad things would continue to happen to good people.

And maybe you weren’t a good person before, but god, you were trying.

One more sin and you swore you would leave it all behind.

It almost cost you, though.

The copper taste filled your mouth as you were splayed on the ground, bleeding and twitching from the pain of being battered by a blunt object repeatedly.

Any ounce of you that fought back before had since depleted, a groan leaving your lips after each hit.

Only for a second did you see the silhouette of a man watching you from afar as you lay there on the pavement, running on your last bit of fumes.

The silhouette walked closer to you and the pain you felt had soothed away somehow. That, or you were completely numb.

“Close your eyes.”

Yeosang shot upright in an unfamiliar- and uncomfortable bed, trying to calm his panicked breaths. He felt you nearby, yet so far away.

He felt the pain you experienced as if it were his own and there was nothing he could’ve done to stop it during the time he was unconscious.

He even saw Seonghwa. His face was the clearest thing you and Yeosang saw while you were struggling to get back up.

You weren’t dead. Yeosang wouldn’t be able to feel the connection if you were. Then again, Yeosang has never experienced being someone’s Guardian.

Nor was he taught what it felt like if they ever died.

He could see you. Your location was vivid in his mind. The beeping of the monitors that kept track of your vitals. The sterile scent, the bright fluorescent lights, the hospital bed, the IV in your arm, how it felt, even. Yeosang saw, smelled, heard, and felt it all.

And then he appeared in that same room as you. He tried to will you into waking up. He shook you, tapped you, and even tried calling your name.

You weren’t waking up.

You weren’t dead either.

Some would say you were stuck in limbo. Purgatory wasn’t limbo. The mist obstructed your vision and nothing hurt anymore. You knew you were hurt, physically and emotionally, but you couldn’t feel it.

You saw the silhouetted man again, only this time he wasn’t a silhouette. Striding toward you, it seemed as if the mist had parted ways to let him through.

“Am I dead?”

“Why does everyone ask that?” Seonghwa couldn’t help but laugh. You failed to see the humor in it though.

“I feel…” you pondered what you felt inside if it wasn’t any more hurt.

“Free? Dead? Scared?”

“Happy.” You spoke. “I feel happy.”

Seonghwa gave you a soft nod and an empathetic smile. “I see. You have lived a tough life.”

“I will wake up soon. Won’t I?” Your heart sank a little at the thought of having to go back. You knew it would entail more continuous pain and disappointment of having failed your mission of getting revenge.

“Yes. It’s not your time. Not yet. You are just here temporarily.” Seonghwa walked closer to you and put his hand on your shoulder. “Sorry to say, but you have to return now.”

Your eyes shot open, immediately recognizing the room you were in. All at once, the pain you’ve felt for years and the pain you’ve gained from being beaten almost to death had collectively returned without a single minute to spare you any preparation.

Tears brimmed your eyes and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet whimper.

“Finally.” A voice you have never heard before startled you, a deep echo traveled through the almost silent room aside from the beeping of the monitors.

You turned your head as much as you could muster and saw him. Black hair, dark eyes, soft skin, a birthmark near his eye, and a faint outline of ash and flame around his body.

“You are difficult, you know that?” He sat in the chair across the room from your bed and he had one foot on the chair, hugging his knee to his chest.

“I’m tired of trying to anonymously guide you. You haven’t listened once, I hate traumatizing people and I can’t keep letting you stress me out like this.”

“Who the hell are you?” You asked, slowly- and painfully, sitting up.

“I’m Yeosang. Your Guardian… Demon.”

“Guardian Demon? That’s not real.” You questioned. Yeosang groaned, “I know, right? Who thinks up these titles?!”

“For a demon, you are handsome.” You rubbed your eyes. You were convinced you were dead for a second, but you remembered the mist-blanketed place you were just in, the man that seemed way too mystical to be real.

You wouldn’t have believed Yeosang was an actual demon if you hadn’t met that mysterious man.

“You actually believe me? Like, you’re not even gonna call bullshit?” Yeosang sat up, straightening his back. You shrugged, “I met another handsome man in this mist-covered area and nothing hurt, so, I might as well believe you too.”

“Ah, you met Seonghwa.” Yeosang stood up and walked towards the window, peeking outside. He sensed danger imminent, again.

“What are you supposed to do? Just guide me?” You asked, “are you like a Guardian Angel?”

“Would’ve been. But yes, in a way. I sense danger, I try to scare you away. The only problem is, you’re fucking difficult to scare and it’s even more difficult to keep you alive.” Yeosang looked at you, crossing his arms.

Ash sprinkled to the ground and disappeared a second later before repeating every time he moved. You weren’t entirely sure he was aware of it. Or how cool it looked to you.

“You’re not very good at keeping people alive.” You glanced at the monitor beeping.

“You’re not very good at minding your own business,” Yeosang remarked. You smiled with a tilt of your head.

“It is my business.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes in defeat. You had a point, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You were after a guy you had years of beef with.

“Since you’re a demon,” You smirked, pausing to make sure he was listening. When Yeosang raised his eyebrows, his arms still crossed over his chest, you continued.

“Want to help me break out of here?”

Yeosang was still an Angel.

He was kind, despite his witty sarcasm, but you found him to be funny, he was gentle with you and even showed guilt if he thought he had accidentally hurt you, and you’ve noticed how shy he is- For a demon.

He was an Angel in a Demon form. Misunderstood, even. But you didn’t know the full story.

Even if you did, it wouldn’t change your mind. That was one thing you guaranteed.

He took care of you after breaking you out of the hospital, though he still felt conflicted on whether he really should’ve or not.

Point is, Yeosang was gentle with you. He nursed you back to health and was careful not to add to the pain you already felt. You were further unconvinced that he was a demon.

The outline of animated ash and flame did little to nothing to convince you.

You had spent days- Weeks, with him and he never left you. You weren’t aware of what happens when he’s a certain distance from you. He never told you either. He was shy, he made you laugh, he took care of you, watched over you, warned you when he sensed something or someone dangerous, and he tried to help you deal with your pain.

Yeosang, this Yeosang? He was anything but a demon.

He was like your safe place. Your comfort zone.

He was an angel. A misunderstood, fallen angel.

For some reason, fallen angel seemed more incorrect than a demon.

Yeosang knew everything about you too. Your darkest parts, your regrets, fears, everything. And not once did he ever interrupt you to say, “I know.”

He listened.

He learned.

And he accepted you for you.

He wasn’t a demon.

Yeosang had left a note for you while you slept, telling you he would return soon, and that he needed to speak to a friend of his in the demonic realm.

Aside from leaving a note, he left you alone while you slept, avoiding touching you and giving you another nightmare. He still felt lingering guilt from the first nightmare he had given you.

Yeosang trudged through mud mixed with fresh blood and remains, remembering how rancid the scent was down here.

He followed the path until he came upon a familiar, yet dilapidated shack.

San immediately opened the front door as if to expect Yeosang. That same smile he always had was plastered on his face.

Yeosang found himself smiling back.

“Welcome back!” San and Yeosang entered the shack, it was in the same condition it had been in before, but Yeosang didn’t complain.

“How is Y/N?” San poured Yeosang a drink and judging by the smell of it and the way it sizzled, this had been a new and different drink.

“They are okay. Recovering nicely too.” Yeosang accepted the drink and stared at the sizzling liquid.

“Good. You gonna deal with the guy that caused them weeks of recovery or are you still living by angelic means?” San sat beside Yeosang, noticing his stare towards the cup he held in his hands. San chuckled. “I call this masterpiece, blood ocean. It’s not actual blood, though… Ew.”

Yeosang took a sip and immediately tried to suppress the cough he needed so desperately to let out. San laughed in response, “I know. It’s strong. But it’s non-alcoholic if that makes it better.”

“No, not at all.” Yeosang cleared his throat. “By the way, I am not living- But of course, I’m going to deal with this guy. Y/N… They deserve better.”

“Even after all they’ve done before?”

Yeosang nodded without a moment's hesitation, “if you knew them, you’d see the way I do.”

San took a sip from his cup, ingesting it better than Yeosang had. Then he stood up again to take his cup to what would be considered San’s kitchen. Yeosang took another sip, only to decide he couldn’t handle the rest of it, and gave the cup back to San, still full of the strangely edible liquid.

“Blood ocean, is made with a herb from the Angelic Realm, believe it or not.” San came back to sit beside Yeosang. “I asked Seonghwa to retrieve some from Jongho while you were on an Earthly vacation.”

“Jongho… How is he?” Yeosang coughed into his elbow as he asked. San smiled.

“He seems busier since you’ve been demoted… Or promoted… We couldn’t meet up directly but he still passed on some herbs.”

San leaned back in his chair and observed Yeosang. The ash from his outline fell around him, but never on him.

“Do you like having Y/N as your first human?”

“Yes.” Yeosang didn’t hesitate, “I care about them. I like the aura they have. I like that they don’t see me as someone bad just because I’m a demon now. So, yes. I do like having Y/N as my first human.”

“Hm.” San stared at Yeosang for a moment, followed by silence. Yeosang took a deep breath, the aftertaste of blood ocean lingered in his mouth.

“Do you like Y/N?”

“Yes.” Yeosang felt like he was repeating himself. San chuckled, “romantically?”

Yeosang froze. He thought about it before. When you were talking to him about your happiest moments. How he wished he could absorb that feeling too rather than just the bad. He remembered how your eyes lit up as you recalled those memories.

He remembered the way your eyes lit up at a lot of things you spoke about. Your favorite things, mainly, but the memories he, as a demon, couldn’t see or feel.

But he still loved every second.

“Yes,” Yeosang responded after what San felt was an eternity. “I… I do.”

“Never heard of a demon and human relationship before.” San’s smile dropped and Yeosang felt the energy in the room darken even more, considering the realm they were in.

“It’s not forbidden if that’s what you’re wondering. But,” San sighed, leaning forward. “It will hurt when they inevitably die. Even if a human is destined as an angel or demon, it would be years, centuries, lifetimes- your lifetime, before you see them again.”

Yeosang didn’t speak. He just stared at San and tried to grasp the meaning of what San had just said.

“I won’t stop you, but I do ask that you are prepared for the inevitable.”

You, a human, who Yeosang had grown attached to. You who had the power, unknown to you, of breaking a demon’s heart.

If a broken heart was the worst he would get in the end, then he wasn’t afraid. He would go through that kind of pain over and over again if he could if that meant he could see you smile.

Yeosang felt a strange euphoria that had been short-lived when imminent danger clogged his senses.

“Ah, I have to go.” Yeosang rose to his feet and began to head for the door. “Y/N is in danger again.”

San softly laughed, “Already? They usually this stubborn?”

“Oh yeah.”

Like that, the door had closed behind Yeosang and he had raced to the exit that led to the land of the living.

It happened in the morning, shortly after you had read Yeosang’s note. The disappointment and feelings of worry that he might not return, that maybe he just left you for good, had filled your mind.

It happened in the morning while you were distracted by your feelings of abandonment. It wasn’t like he would never return. He was bound to you.

But something awakened inside of you and you felt an attachment to Yeosang.

You were chained to a pipe in a gross, worn down, and seemingly abandoned room. Wherever you were, you knew no one would come looking for you.

Even Yunho, your only current friend, wouldn’t know where to look. And he always knew where to look.

There was one person or being, that you thought of. Yeosang. He was bound to you, after all.

He would know. And for the first time, since you’ve been kidnapped from your home, you screamed a scream that was meant for Yeosang.

“Yeosang!”

You were met by a slap from the very person that caused you pain. He grabbed your face roughly and forced you to meet his eyes.

“Yeosang, huh? Who is that? Someone else I will need to take care of?” He roughly let go of your face and began to pace again. “Someone else I need to release from this world?”

“Screw you! You’ll never succeed.”

You felt comfort, knowing that you were right about that. No one could kill a demon. How would they try?

“I already have.” The guy drew his gun and aimed it toward you. You remained still, unblinking.

The downside if he shot you? You wouldn’t live to see his downfall. The upside? You wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

You smiled, staring down at the barrel of the gun. Not because you wouldn’t feel pain anymore and not to piss off your enemy.

But because Yeosang was there.

And he was pissed.

“How many goddamn times are you going to keep showing up?!” Yeosang’s eyes appeared to have darkened, if at all possible. Your enemy could see him too.

You widened your eyes when the gun went off and Yeosang had been right in the line of fire, but Yeosang just laughed.

“You can’t kill something that’s not alive.”

Your enemy continued to fire and for the first time, you were given the satisfaction of seeing him in fear. Actual trembling fear.

You watched the scene unfold, and how Yeosang, your angel, had become a proper demon at handling the man who caused you so much pain.

“Didn’t think you had it in you.”

You were sat in front of Yeosang, who tended to any wounds you sustained during his visit to San. Your enemy had left in a hurry after getting the lights beat out of him.

“You did say I was bad at keeping people alive.”

“Pssh, I say a lot of things.” You eyed his hands that carefully fixed the bandages that had been slipping off.

“Do you still believe I’m a demon?” Yeosang asked. You watched the ash falling on your skin, only you never felt it.

“Well,” You took in a deep breath. Dust and the scent of mold caused you to scrunch your nose, “I watched you take ten bullets to the chest and you still beat his ass and you seem perfectly fine, so… Yes. I believe you. Always have. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Yeosang looked at you, yet still held your arm in the middle of rewrapping a bandage around a pre-existing bruise from weeks ago.

“You’re more like an angel.”

Yeosang felt his heart skip a beat. No one referred to him as an angel anymore. No one considered him one anymore either, at least not in a serious way.

Until you did.

“We have to get out of here before he comes back with more people.” Yeosang proceeded to rise to his feet, helping you stand. His touch generated a feeling of anger and fear in you, but he wasn’t aware that his feelings would absorb into you.

Only what he intended was what he was aware of. Still, you somehow didn’t mind.

“Quitting so easily?” You joked. How hard could it be to take down waves of goons with your demon companion?

Yeosang just stared at you, a shake of his head following. “Let’s go.”

You followed him out of the abandoned building, which appeared to be an old church. You laughed at the irony.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be writhing in pain in the presence of the Lord’s home?”

“Oh my, a demon in church? Who’d have thought?” Yeosang kicked down the front door after it failed to open the first time.

“Common myth. But if you want me to, I will.” Yeosang continued to walk ahead with you following. You took in your surroundings, seeing nothing but an empty dirt road for miles.

“Now what? Drag me to hell and teleport me home?” You asked. Part of you was dead serious. You were already in hell, after all.

“If I drag you to hell, you will die.” Yeosang put his hands on his hips and thought for a moment.

He was stronger than you. He was a demon after all. You couldn’t take ten bullets the way he did. They actually passed right through him.

You would have died for sure.

“On my back, let’s go.” Yeosang compromised by opting to carry you to your house. You climbed onto his back, still sore, but at least you didn’t have to walk.

Despite how long the trip actually took, Yeosang’s speed made you question what it looked like to any cars that eventually passed by.

Were you invisible? Did they see Yeosang too?

Can everyone see Yeosang now?

“Wait, take me to my friend's house.” You realized you were more than halfway home and how dangerous it would be to just simply return after being kidnapped.

“Yunho?”

“How do you know his name?” You asked, yet immediately dropped the question, “Yes. He has a gate with a code to his house, let alone the cameras fucking everywhere. No one’s getting in or out easily.”

“Language,” Yeosang mumbled as he changed his route. He realized then that he didn’t have access to Yunho’s location. He wasn’t the human he was bound to.

“Please. You’ve said far blasphemous things.”

“Where does Yunho live?”

You shut your mouth, trying to remember where your friend lived. You weren’t bad with addresses, but you weren’t good with them either.

You just remembered that Yunho had a huge house, was rich, and maybe a little paranoid- which he would argue that he’s just trying to be safe.

And you believed him. He was the only person in your criminal reign that didn’t turn on you as everyone else had.

“Take me to the rich side of town.”

Yeosang began to walk again, only to stop.

“Where the hell is the rich side? North? East? South? West? I’m not a GPS, Y/N.”

You sighed, burying your head into his shoulder. Your memory was fuzzy, and you didn’t have your phone on you to pull up a GPS.

Yeosang walked you over to the nearest payphone. He helped you off of his back and allowed you to into the booth as he waited outside.

You used a coin you found on the ground and dialed Yunho’s number.

“Hello! Can I call you back? I’m in the middle of getting banned in fifty countries!”

“Yunho.”

“Oh, Y/N? Long time no hear… I was kidding about getting banned in fifty countries. Just trying to scare unknowns away.” Yunho awkwardly laughed on the other line.

“I don’t think you’re kidding,” You looked out at Yeosang, who had gotten distracted by a stray cat that actually let him pet it. “Remember when you said I always had a place to stay as long as you were in town?”

“Yeah.”

“May I use that offer today?”

“It’s night.”

“Oh my god! Yunho!”

Yunho’s laugh emitted loudly in the booth, even as you held the phone away from your ear.

“Yes! Yes! You know where to find me.”

“I don’t.”

“Again? It’s in the North. Want me to send Mingi?”

“Holy shit, he’s back? yes! I haven’t seen him in a while!” You grinned, glancing outside to see Yeosang suddenly surrounded by two more stray cats and giggling at their cuteness.

“Too bad. He doesn’t drive.”

“Then why did you-“

“Where are you? I will get you unless you’re wanted for something.”

“What? Like getting banned in fifty countries? I’m,” you looked around for a notable landmark. “Just start driving by phone booths. You’ll find me eventually.”

“Fun. See you in three hours.”

You hung the phone up, opening the door. Yeosang was completely unaware that you were done with your phone call.

“Thought animals feared demons.” You crossed your hands. Yeosang looked at you, a bright look on his face.

“That’s very stereotypical, Y/N. Look how cute they are!”

You smiled at your demon companion actually showing happiness.

“Did Yunho tell you his address?” Yeosang asked, not looking away from the purring animals. You shook your head, still wearing your smile.

“He’s actually on his way.”

“Cool.”

Heart thumped, hitched breathing, and a lot of blood on his hands, Wooyoung ran through Jongho’s garden.

He knew Angel Guards would be on their way. They were always fast when sin was committed within their realm.

“Jong…Jongho!” Wooyoung stammered, his voice catching in his throat. “Jongho!”

Wooyoung frantically searched the garden for the other angel.

“Jongho-“

“What? Oh my… What did you do?” Jongho appeared, immediately wide-eyed upon seeing the crimson mess on Wooyoung’s hands and clothes.

“Accident! It- It was an accident! I just wanted-“

“Calm down, meet me in purgatory.” Jongho glanced behind Wooyoung, hearing the guards nearing.

Wooyoung nodded, ran to the nearest gate to purgatory, and entered the misty, gloomy realm.

Wooyoung wiped the blood on his shirt in an attempt to get it off of his hands. He wasn’t completely lying when he said it was an accident.

He never intended to murder someone, let alone another angel.

Nosey angel.

“Wooyoung, what did you do?” Jongho’s voice startled Wooyoung as he entered the realm soon after.

“Accident-“

“Tell me. Now. You have a lot of angels looking for you, it’s a manhunt up there right now so you have five seconds to tell me the truth.” Jongho was stern when he spoke, his arms crossed over his chest.

Wooyoung nodded, collecting his thoughts.

“Yeosang and I share a human. I only wanted to see how long their life was. I… Manipulated the database and absorbed the information to find out how long Y/N has to live.”

Jongho dropped his arms at his side, “so, back up. When Yeosang was publicly denounced for stealing information about the future guardian angels, was that actually you?”

Wooyoung began to cry, nodding. “Yes.”

“I knew it!” Jongho’s eyes went wide again. “Yeosang covered for you!”

“Jongho, what do I do?”

Jongho looked behind the older angel, seeing Seonghwa standing a few feet behind him. His mysterious aura parted the blanket of mist.

“What can we do?” Jongho asked, directly the question towards Seonghwa, whom Wooyoung was now aware of his presence.

Seonghwa didn’t speak and instead snapped his fingers, summoning Yeosang into the realm. Confused, Yeosang hesitantly made his way to the three.

“Wooyoung… That better be paint.” Yeosang couldn’t avert his eyes from the crimson stains on Wooyoung’s clothing and hands. Even more so concerned seeing Wooyoung had been crying.

“Yeosang-“

“What happened?” Yeosang didn’t wait for a second longer, pressing his palm against Wooyoung's arm and absorbing the negative memories he had.

Wooyoung pulled away, but Yeosang already learned what he needed to know.

At first, Wooyoung, Jongho, and even Seonghwa- for a split second, were expecting Yeosang to blow up at Wooyoung for getting into more trouble.

For stealing more information similar to what had gotten Yeosang cast out. For murdering another Angel who caught Wooyoung in the act. Wooyoung still not learning how to cover his tracks or lock a door.

But Yeosang was staring at Seonghwa, the Reaper, with a hurt and spiteful, volatile glare.

“You told me if I guided Y/N to the Angelic Realm, they wouldn’t die an early grave.”

“That’s true.” Seonghwa maintained his composure. He stared at Yeosang, waiting for him to continue. Jongho and Wooyoung stood silent, unknowing what to do, say, or even how to react.

“Two years is an early grave!” Yeosang yelled, shaking the entire realm. Wooyoung and Jongho flinched simultaneously despite not being the ones getting yelled at. Seonghwa, however, maintained his stance.

“Early grave is a grave less than their allotted lifetime.”

Something about Seonghwa’s calm voice only angered Yeosang further. The fact that you had two years left in your life wasn’t something he could accept so easily.

“What about Hongjoong? Can’t he change their lifetime?”

Seonghwa slightly smirked at the younger demon’s naivety. Still, Seonghwa snapped his fingers again, and Hongjoong- Who Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Jongho had seen around in the angelic realm on occasion.

“What?” Hongjoong walked towards the group, the mist parting for him as well.

“I have a favor to ask,” Yeosang glanced at Wooyoung. Hongjoong shook his head immediately.

“I’m can’t cover for your friend.”

Seonghwa looked at the ground, a laugh leaving his lips. Yeosang balled his fists in frustration.

“He’s asking for his soulmate.”

“He doesn’t have a soulmate.” Hongjoong looked at his wrist, checking the time ticking away on his watch.

“Let me reiterate. He wants his human to have more time in their life.” Seonghwa smiled. Hongjoong stared at Yeosang, an unfortunate expression following.

“That is beyond my capabilities. That is up to Y/N and Y/N only. I’m sorry.”

“Holy shit!” You entered Yunho’s house, immediately seeing Mingi. “You’re alive!”

Mingi grinned, taking his hand out of the bag of chips he held to give you half of a hug.

“I should be saying the same! You went AWOL for weeks!” Mingi seemed genuinely happy to see you, as you were with him.

“You went AWOL for months!” You remarked as Yunho had finished locking every lock on his front door.

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

Mingi held out the bag of chips, offering you some. You refused, though. Mainly because there were only crumbs left and Mingi knew this too.

There was something relieving about seeing your old friend in the flesh again. Alive, too.

As far as you knew, You and Yunho were ex-criminals. You, not so much, but Yunho definitely. Mingi was just the friend that tagged along but never participated.

He knew everything and never told a soul out of respect for you and Yunho. He listened to your and Yunho’s advice to lay low, for months until recently.

Despite not being the main target, he was still a target by association.

You were a team once and forever.

“Mingi! Did you lock the back door after taking out the trash?”

Yunho was cautious. Arguably paranoid and for a good reason. By the look on Mingi’s face, he had forgotten to lock the back door again.

Yunho let out a deep sigh, heading for the door. Mingi crumpled up the bag of chips after pouring the leftover crumbs into his mouth.

“If it makes you feel any better, no one would think to get in at this hour.” Mingi checked the time to be sure of what he said was true.

“You never know, buddy.” You gave him a quick pat on his back before walking by him to meet Yunho at the back door.

You stopped in your tracks, hearing an all too familiar voice. Multiple voices. Yunho was compliant, but if it were you, you wouldn’t have been.

“Where is Y/N?”

“Why is your face bruised?” Yunho asked, immediately followed by a groan.

You heard footsteps, and returned to Mingi, pulling him towards the safe room Yunho had installed.

“I need you to be quiet or so help me, Mingi.” You whispered to your confused friend as you slowly and quietly shut the door before covering it with something to make the door less obvious.

You ran up the stairs, looking for a weapon before the other guys found you. The ones who turned on you despite all you’ve done to save their asses.

Didn’t matter now. What mattered was keeping Yunho alive somehow. The worry and fear you felt, you weren’t sure if it were Yeosang trying to warn you to stop and just hide with Mingi, or if it were your feelings.

The fear you would lose Yunho too. PossiblyMingi too, if he attempted to come out from hiding.

Where do you keep the weapons?

He had to have one. No one has this much security and doesn’t have a weapon for added protection.

You turned a corner in Yunho’s giant home, feeling compelled to enter a room you had never been into. It had a layer of security to it as well and for a split second, you wondered why Yunho never used a burner phone for phone calls.

That was beside the point. You knew the password to this door, somehow, and behind it was an arsenal of weapons you never thought Yunho kept.

How he obtained them? You don’t know.

You grabbed a gun, ammo, and a knife that you could easily conceal, and left the room, heading downstairs.

All this while Wooyoung watched you, cursing himself for only being able to give you positivity. He needed Yeosang for this.

As bullets were fired, Wooyoung panicked and Yeosang appeared in that same room with him.

“I’m sorry. It didn’t work! They won’t stay away!” Wooyoung profusely apologized. Yeosang grabbed a short sword Yunho had and offered a look of reassurance to his angel friend.

“Calm down, and leave it to me.”

Yeosang followed your path throughout the house, seeing you as you shot back. He saw your enemy as well, how he ordered a retreat all while having two others take Yunho with them.

“Yunho!” You screamed, running towards them. Yeosang grabbed your shoulders and instilled as much anxiety and fear into you until you had second thoughts.

“Stop! He’s my friend!” You began to cry a stream of frustrated tears. “He’s my only family left!”

Yeosnag didn’t let go of your shoulders but hated every second of it. The fear, the anxiety, the hurt he was causing you. It was debilitating you but it was for your well-being, as strange as that was.

Yeosang squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to scream from your now shared pain, but he held it in as you collapsed to your knees in a hyperventilating, sobbing heap on the carpet in Yunho’s home.

“I’m so sorry,” Yeosang muttered, knowing those were just words in the end. You weren’t any more calmed hearing those words.

Your only family, found family, was in the hands of your enemy. Someone you knew was dangerous. Someone who almost killed you, twice even.

“Yeosang, you have to save Yunho!” You cried out as Mingi pushed his way out of the concealed safe room door. Mingi watched with a frown, seeing you a mess.

He noticed Yeosang too. The outline of ash and flames around his body continued to fall and crackle in a consistent movement.

Then he noticed Wooyoung, who had come down the stairs. His faint halo and wings had a pattern unique only to Wooyoung.

“We can’t,” Wooyoung spoke up, overhearing everything. You looked at him, tears in your eyes. The halo and wings gave his title away.

And you wondered where he had been all this time. You wiped your eyes, your sorrow being replaced by cold, frustrating anger.

There would come a day when you weren’t constantly living in fear, loathing, vengefulness, or regret. Where your heart wouldn’t be in it anymore to keep fighting the wars waging in your mind and with your enemy.

“Why the hell not? You’ve saved me! Why not Yunho?” You argued.

“Yunho isn’t our human.” Yeosang swallowed back the lump in his throat. His emotions were just as high as yours were.

“Well, he’s my human!” You yelled, forcing yourself to stand up again. You couldn’t believe what they were saying.

You would fight for him, as long as it took. Yeosang knew this. Wooyoung knew this.

Yunho was your family. Mingi was your friend.

And they knew you would never give them up so easily.

“I love you.”

You weren’t sure you heard him correctly. Your mind was just playing tricks on you- The demon? The angel? Was any of it even real?

“Now’s not the time.” You tried to walk past him, only for Yeosang to appear in a swift movement in front of you.

“I know. But I love you. I shouldn’t, but I do and I can’t lose you. So please just-“

“So you understand. I can’t lose Yunho.”

“You can’t save everyone.” Yeosang took a deep breath. You scoffed as tears began to leak out of your eyes once more.

“I haven’t saved anyone.” Your voice cracked, and for probably the first time, Yeosang had wrapped his arms around you tighter than you could imagine.

And despite the negative feelings you absorbed from each other, it was the most comforting hug you’ve received in years.

“You saved me,” Yeosang mumbled low enough for only you to hear. Wooyoung and Mingi glanced at each other, silent and confused.

“You want me to save Yunho, I will have to relinquish you as my human and switch with his guardian.” Yeosang cupped your crying face into his hands, wiping your tears away with his warm thumbs.

“Yeosang, no. You may never see Y/N again if you do.” Wooyoung spoke up, moving closer to where you two stood. Mingi took this as an opportunity to speak now.

“Hi, yeah, what’s going on?” Mingi leaned against the railing of the stairs. His head began to hurt from the confusion.

No one responded.

Yeosang accepted the possibility. He told you how he felt, he got to hold you one last time, and now he’s going to save Yunho.

For you. The mortal he would never be able to spend eternity with.

“I’ll do it.” Yeosang felt numb. Wooyoung shook his head.

“I will,” Wooyoung announced. “You know Y/N more than I do. I will be Yunho’s new Guardian Angel while I still can.”

You felt relief fill your chest, your guardian angel- whom you’d barely met, was going to take over as Yunho’s guardian.

He would lead you both to Yunho.

“Hey! Context?” Mingi threw his arms up. You, Yeosang, and Wooyoung looked at him.

“The context is; Go upstairs and get a weapon.” You ordered. “We’re getting Yunho.”

“That’s not context enough, who are they? What is going on? I don’t know how to fight!” Mingi argued. You pointed upstairs.

“You don’t need to fight. Just defend yourself. Go get a weapon.”

Mingi sighed and reluctantly jogged up the stairs, stopping halfway. “I’m only doing this for Yunho.”

You smiled at him in response.

“He could’ve just… Had this one. I don’t know why I got it.” Yeosang lifted the short sword he had brought down but didn’t use.

“Yeosang.” Wooyoung cleared his throat, motioning towards the front door. “A word?”

Yeosang walked away from you and entered the purgatory realm with Wooyoung upon leaving Yunho’s house.

“You know I’m going to be cast out if I re-enter the Angelic Realm.” Wooyoung rubbed his hands together nervously. Yeosang nodded.

“I’m sorry. For bringing you down with me, I mean.” Wooyoung avoided Yeosang’s eyes as he spoke.

Yeosang brought Wooyoung into a hug, “I would do it again.”

Wooyoung felt grateful for Yeosang yet sorrowful at the same time. He felt another feeling, a feeling he didn’t recall feeling before.

He felt free.

No more strict rules, no more need to be perfect for an entire community of angels. No more fear of being caught doing something wrong or needing to filter himself to please the gods and goddesses.

Sure, it wasn’t bad. The angelic realm is and will always be everyone’s dream. Everything is better there.

But it wasn’t for him.

“Since I’m already damned,” Wooyoung started, pulling away from Yeosang’s embrace. “Any last requests?”

Yeosang grinned, “Find out Yunho’s location?”

“And?” Wooyoung raised an eyebrow.

Yeosang’s grin faded. “What?”

“Nothing. Watch over Y/N and Mingi.” Wooyoung began to walk towards the nearest gate into the angelic realm.

And Yeosang watched. The only thing he could do for his damned friend.

Wooyoung raised his hands in the air, a proud and fearful smile on his face as he walked through Jongho’s garden. Jongho hadn’t noticed Wooyoung had re-entered the angelic realm until he heard the commotion of guards rushing to arrest Wooyoung.

And Wooyoung smiled towards him, “catch you in the in-between.”

“That’s not what it’s called,” Jongho mumbled, watching the guards putting handcuffs on Wooyoung.

“Jung Wooyoung, you are to be detained and cast out into eternal hellfire for the sins of theft on two accounts and murder.”

Wooyoung was cooperative. He didn’t fight it nor did he show any form of remorse- Save for the angel he accidentally murdered.

The gods and goddesses didn’t see it that way.

But that didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter for Yeosang, who was falsely accused of theft, and it wouldn’t matter for Wooyoung, who did commit these sins.

“You are to be stripped of your soul's commitment to being a Guardian Angel within the coming hour.”

Wooyoung thought about Yeosang. He thought about you as well, and Yunho, who was kidnapped by your enemy. Mingi, who openly admitted to not knowing how to fight, but was still ready to charge in and save Yunho with you.

For Yunho.

“Can you speed the process up?” Wooyoung mumbled.

“What was that?” A guard asked, giving Wooyoung a warning look.

“I said,” Wooyoung glanced at Jongho and Hongjoong, who had joined in to watch out of curiosity despite being on a tight schedule.

“Speed up the goddamn process.”

Yeosang paced, waiting for Wooyoung’s return. You and Mingi waited anxiously.

Waiting. Just like Yunho was waiting for someone to go save him.

“We’re wasting time.” You’ve had enough waiting. The anxieties that filled you, thinking of what could be happening to your friend at that moment.

“We don’t know where Yunho is.” Yeosang frowned. You felt helpless, and being bound to Yeosang, he began to feel it too.

“Sorry for the delay.” Wooyoung entered, out of breath as if he ran to get to you.

“They took for-fucking-ever.” Wooyoung had the same outline of ash and flames as Yeosang.

Every angel was unique, but every demon was the same.

Equal.

“Yunho. Wooyoung, where is Yunho?” Your voice was desperate in the words you spoke.

“He’s close,” Wooyoung answered, leading the way. Wooyoung winced and groaned with every step, now knowing the excruciating pain Yeosang felt when he was a certain distance from you.

A pain Yeosang understood all too well.

“I thought you said he was close.” Yeosang jogged beside Wooyoung. Wooyoung stopped and doubled over in pain.

“Everyone in. Yunho won’t mind, right?” You opened the driver's side of Yunho’s car and began to hot-wire it, failing to find the keys. Mingi shrugged, “he might mind you hot-wiring it.”

You successfully started the car up as Yeosang helped Wooyoung into the back seat while Mingi sat shotgun in the passenger seat.

“Where to?” You asked, peeling out of Yunho’s driveway. Wooyoung pointed a shaking finger at the street ahead.

You sped up, wondering why Wooyoung was in so much pain. That was a question you’d have to ask later.

The more you drove, the less Wooyoung felt as if he were being ripped apart. Yeosang kept an eye out, sensing danger.

“Here! That building!” Wooyoung pointed straight ahead. You came to a stop, freezing.

This was where you lost your loved ones all those years ago.

That same building, the paint peeling, the rusted door hinges, broken windows, and memories you couldn’t erase.

Yeosang wanted to shield you from it all, but he knew your determination wouldn’t allow him.

You were the first one out of the vehicle, Mingi being the second. Yeosang and Wooyoung followed before you two got hurt.

“Stay behind us, you can die. We can’t.” Yeosang instructed. You smiled, the helpless feeling fading and telling you indirectly, everything would be alright.

You would end this.

Wooyoung took the lead, sourcing Yunho out and finding him tied to a pillar. When the four of you entered altogether, the lights came on and you were all surrounded by the people of your enemy.

Some from before, and some new. But they all are against you. Yunho met your eyes.

He felt relief. Someone came for him after all. But it was short-lived, and he began to wish you or Mingi had never come.

Yeosang and Wooyoung guarded you and Mingi with their eternal lives, making sure no one came near you two. Wooyoung even kept an eye on Yunho, his soul being bound to him and all.

“Y/N. You showed.”

“Let Yunho go. It’s me you want!” You scowled, glaring at the man you called your enemy. He let out a dry laugh, standing beside Yunho.

“I know another way to hurt you.”

He had a gun, waving it around and threatening Yunho with it. It worried and angered you. The fear of losing another person weighed down on you more and more.

But while he had a gun, you had Wooyoung and Yeosang.

They weren’t here to be toyed with.

“If you touch him, I swear to god.” You clenched your teeth, fear evident in your voice.

Looking at Yunho, you saw how calm he was. He didn’t show fear despite the situation. All he wanted was for you and Mingi to be okay in the end.

“Y/N, get back.” Wooyoung grew impatient, charging at the speed of light, and disarmed the man that threatened Yunho. You and Mingi readied the weapons you two had brought along, though both of you were taken by surprise at what had just happened.

Wooyoung protected Yunho as the attack had set everyone else off into a battle.

Yeosang tried his best to protect you and Mingi, delighted to see how well you two held your own. Even Mingi, who claimed he didn’t know how to fight.

Yeosang sensed the danger. He always had, like an eerie premonition. He knew there was a chance you could get hurt at that exact moment.

He saw your enemy, the man who took so much from you, charge towards you when you were preoccupied trying not to get hit by the end of a bat or fist or whatever blunt object that was about seconds from connecting to your head and body.

It was a blur, really. You saw yourself about to be lunged at and suddenly you weren’t.

Your enemy had a crew, but you had two demons outcasted by their gods and goddesses.

Need there be any more of an explanation?

Two years had passed. Almost.

One more day and then it would be two years. Everything was okay again. You were no longer in constant danger, your enemies had been eliminated.

Yunho and Mingi were safe. Wooyoung and Yeosang were the kindest, angelic-like demons.

You, well, you finally began to learn how to live again. Yeosang, Yunho, Mingi, and occasionally Wooyoung were all by your side through it all.

You learned why Wooyoung felt so much pain back then when he was too far from Yunho. You learned that Yeosang had also felt that same excruciating pain.

You two were inseparable.

He treated you right, better than anyone you’ve ever been with, despite being a demon.

As unrequited as it felt, you loved him. He saved your life, what was left of who you called ‘family’, and you saved him, in some unknown way.

Yeosang was acting strange. He still took care of you, made sure there was food on the table, he did everything for you. A gentleman.

Until the end.

He dreaded the end. According to Wooyoung’s information, Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s confirmations, and your state lately, he dreaded the end.

One more day with you. However many hours you had left, he didn’t know. Wooyoung didn’t remember. Any information he absorbed from you, he no longer had access to.

Yeosang wasn’t the one who hacked a database. It seemed unfortunate at that moment. He never told you, though. Yeosang didn’t want to scare you any more than he already had to on occasion.

Yeosang tried his best not to let you know, given that you share each other's feelings.

“Tell me why you are radiating sadness.” You confronted. Yeosang forced out a laugh.

“What?”

“I know you’re sad, but what about? You can tell me, you know.”

Yeosang just smiled and you could feel his heart aching as if it were your own.

“I won’t be here forever. Who knows when I will see you again anyways.” You sighed, slowly putting a hand to your chest to soothe the shared ache you just felt. “Just know it will hurt when I’m gone and you didn’t tell me everything.”

You were only concerned about him. Despite him being a demon and semi-immortal, you still wanted to take care of him and help him the way he did for you.

“If it hurts, I will let it hurt. If it takes us years or centuries to meet again, I will wait.” Yeosang spoke, a slight crack in his voice when he did.

“Anything I don’t tell you now, I will tell you in your next life. And your next, and the one after that one. I won’t forget.”

“That’s so romantic… For a demon.” You placed a kiss on his cheek. “But you are kind of scaring me with all of this talk, so spill.”

Yeosang insisted nothing was wrong, even trying to hide his hurt from you somehow. He dreaded the end so much.

But he loved every second he was with you.

Time of death, 10:24.

The metal blade scraped across the dark red rock, marking another tally.

182,625.

Or, as Yeosang saw it, five hundred years.

All spent without you.

“Yeosang! It’s demon title day!” San startled Yeosang out of the gloomy state he was in as he stared at the new tally mark he carved.

“Let me guess, you’re volunteering again?” Yeosang tried to hide the fact that he wanted nothing more than to cry, impatient that he spent five entire centuries without meeting you.

Yeosang promised you he would wait, no matter how long it took, and he would keep his word no matter what.

“Nope. But you are!” San grinned cheekily. Yeosang frowned, closing the blade inside its shell.

“What?”

San grabbed Yeosang by the back of his neck and led him to the demon fair, where Yeosang had become a demon centuries ago. Yeosang squirmed out of his grip but continued to follow him.

Especially now that he was volunteered and that was one thing, if not the only thing, a demon could not get out of.

“What did I do to be volunteered?” Yeosang walked with San, who guided him to table 8.

“Nothing. I just volunteered you.” San pats his back. Yeosang sighed, sitting down.

“Meet the new demons.” San stuck around as the line of new demons began to walk through toward their tables.

Yeosang looked over at another table, seeing Wooyoung, who San had also volunteered without asking.

Wooyoung waved towards Yeosang but looked about as pleased with being volunteered as he was.

Yeosang looked towards one of the new demons that walked through the gates he’d once walked through.

Yunho.

Yunho walked towards Wooyoung’s table before he realized who he was. Yeosang watched as the two stared at each other in shock.

And he smiled. Yunho looked at Yeosang, who Wooyoung had pointed out, and was greeted with a wave.

Yeosang handed many new demons their designated titles. Guardian demons, reapers under Seonghwa’s division, guards, or demons like San who didn’t have a title- Citizens, San once referred to demons like him-.

He watched the entrance, and a sense of longing took over. If Yunho came, where are you?

That’s when his question was answered. All five hundred years of missing you, yearning for you, wishing you weren’t a mortal- All over.

“Aw, you look like you’ve never seen a demon before.”

Yeosang covered his mouth, pleasantly surprised. Then he pulled you into a tight embrace that he had longed for centuries to do.

“Holy shit.”

Yeosang quickly pulled away as a guard began to look in your direction. He cleared his throat and handed you your designated title.

“Cool. I’m a-“

“Citizen. San calls them citizens.” Yeosang couldn’t contain the emotions he felt- all of which were happy and positive emotions.

“Sweet?”

“Sweet.” Yeosang smiled. “We’ll be able to see each other more this way.”

You hugged him again. “Did you see Yunho?”

“Yes.”

“And that Mingi was promoted as a guardian angel?” You added. Yeosang shook his head.

“Yeah. Crazy how that works.” You chuckled, seeing Yunho and Wooyoung catching up after centuries of a long overdue conversation.

You looked at San, who knew all along that you’d be arriving as a demon. And Yunho too.

“Isn’t volunteering awesome?” San spoke up, jokingly. Yeosang rolled his eyes before sitting down again.

“I will catch you later. I need to finish giving demons their titles.”

You bent down to leave a kiss on his forehead before you left him alone, but he had looked up at the same time, causing your lips to meet instead.

Then you felt the memories you two had, the spark you two had, and the connection you shared five hundred years ago all come back in a flash.

“I will wait for you.”

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez #ateez yeosang #ateez au #ateez yeosang x reader #ateez fanfic

91 notes · View notes

raspberrysmoon · 8 months ago

Text

i'm losing on their side. | i bet on losing dogs - mitski | 4/7

"my baby, my baby.. you're my baby, say it to me."

pokotho, discovering exactly what he's just lost.

humans are fragile. they’ve always been fragile. no human lives forever in the black. no human lives long at all, in the black. his girl was supposed to be an exception to that rule.

she wasn’t. she never would’ve been. nobody gets to be an exception to the rules of the black.

my baby..

it almost doesn’t feel real. for a moment, nothing feels quite real. he almost feels like he’s going dormant. like his eyes are closed and his worship lines left unattended. ignored. but neither are true.

only this is true. only the sounds of tears that had never existed– never would exist– hitting a ground only there for her comfort. he drags himself along the ground, tugging his brother towards him. his brother is silent save for the tears.

blinky goes willingly. he’s nearly limp as he’s pulled into a mound of fur. pokotho can only keep his mouth shut, and curl around his brother.

my baby.

his brother, who found her missing. his brother, who kept it to himself for days. sure, not days as she would perceive them, but days nonetheless. his brother, with his thousand eyes, having missed seeing something so crucial to him.

something thin and vaguely wet curls around them. his brothers are pressed against him, hooves and fingers and tentacles pressing against his fur and digging in like moles to dirt. he keeps his mouth shut.

she would’ve loved him to sing. she’d beg him for it, just for a minute, just to calm everyone down. the notes die in his head. without someone so flawed to hear, they’d never truly set. there is no perfection without flaw. not really.

you’re my baby..

someone is talking. he’s not sure who. it could be him, it could be a sniggle for all he knows.

he’d never cried before. she’d tried to explain it, once.

"its like.. you aren’t really sure what else to do. you’re just so upset, so angry or sad or somethin’, that you can’t really do much else. it makes it better.”

it’s not making anything better. in fact, it nearly makes it worse. this isn’t something he’s supposed to be able to do. this is something that should’ve been restricted to her. not them. humans cry. humans like her. not them. tears make it real.

but.. its not, is it?

if.. if they get out of the black. if they try to find her themselves. maybe she’s in some back corner of watcherworld, or hidden away in a theater. if they try to fix this themselves, then it won’t be real.

say it to me.

he doesn’t realize he’s speaking until a feather is shoved against his mouth, soaked through in an instant with blue. his brother is staring at him, eyes still wet. silent. he doesn’t need to speak. none of them do, really.

its foolish, to think she can be found. its human. its a want he should never have been able to feel. he’s attached. he always had been. being attached means being human.

..but she was human. could it really be so bad?

could something that brought such joy be so terrible..?

(@pastriibunz)

#sotbaw #kai drew #my girl <3333 #i dont wanna main tag this bc people will yell at me :((((#but. po key. is here. hes the guy 👍#raspberry writes #everything to me. did u kno that

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year ago

Text

♤- ALL THINGS END

CROWLEY X AZIRAPHALE

SUMMARY; a series of unsent letters from a demon, to an angel.

warnings: angst, set after events of S2.

A/N: this is my first aziracrow fic, also i haven't gotten an ao3 acc yet so tumblr it is

♡ "IF SOMEONE ASKED ME AT THE END, I'D TELL THEM, 'PUT ME BACK IN IT' " ♡

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○.-

DAY 1

Dear Diary,

Dear Aziraphale,

It’s been a whole 24 hours without you. I see that Muriel Has been trusted with the bookshop. If you want my opinion, that’s just jolly fucking better. After all, it’ll need an owner who actually cares for it more than you had. ‘Nothing lasts forever?

Well I’ll prove you wrong today, tomorrow and forever. When you’ve realized how wrong you were, and how right I was, I assure you that you’ll come back to a bookshop that’s exactly the same as you left it. I’ll make sure of it, alongside Muriel of course. And we will revel with the deepest joy in ourselves, watching you do the apology dance. You and I can both agree on the fact that your punishment fits the crime. I will not wait for you. Because I know you’ll be back soon enough when you realize that I was, again, right.

DAY 7

Dear Aziraphale,

How’s life as supreme archangel? I bet you’re already on your last straw with lot of them by now. If you’re waiting for me to save you again, you can stop. You have made your bed when you thought you could change Heaven it’s natural course.

You’re probably remembering now, how not even I, not even Gabriel, could change that place. What makes you think you can? With what power? You and your tiny miracles, your insufferable terrible magic tricks that never work, you and your sweet tooth craving a forbidden crepe and some coffee. Some rules like that just can’t be changed, eh? Let alone the big ones, like going against God’s great ineffable plan. The books and I look forward to your groveling.

DAY 30

Dear Aziraphale,

Do you remember Maggie and Nina? You must surely. I’m sure your new job have not been giving you such a power rush that you’d forget those two inevitable lovers. Speaking of inevitable, I thought I’d let you know that they’ve started going out together. Not a surprise, I know. Just some sheltering together from rain, and Vavoom! Works every time. Except with us it probably didn’t. No, the rainstorm had been too strong, hasn’t it? Strong enough to have taken you away from me. Well, when you finally wake up and realize you have free will, you’ll know where to find me. Take your time though, I reckoned the books prefer me over you anyways.

DAY 90

Angel,

I thought I’d inform you that your three month trial has officially ended. The punishment has been upgraded to 2 apology dances. That’s right, you’ll have to do it twice. I also thought I’d let you know how much I hate you. I hate how stupid you are. How incredibly naïve can one be to be sold to a lie, already printed in history. I found your ridiculous magician hat yesterday, yes I ransacked your room. I smashed your special painting by Van Gogh, the ones with the yellow flowers. It can’t have been that important if you could just easily leave it behind.

I also burned your bedsheets. It’s ugly, just something you’d like. Why did you ever need a bed anyways, you read there more than you sleep. And yet I could still smell you all over it. Speaking of smell, I also smashed all of your perfumes together. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea, too much whiskey maybe. Because now I can smell you even stronger. Every second I would stop in my tracks, mistaking the scent for you coming back to me. It’s stupid, just like you.

DAY 320

Angel,

I see that Muriel has been promoted. Good for her, best one of the lot, I see a lot of you in her. Or rather, the old you. Maggie and Nina are moving away. Apparently they’ve been saving money to move away, get a nice condo, open up music store with a café installed inside, a genius idea if you ask me. Good for them. I found your diary. Don’t know how I missed it when I first moved in. You write your feelings conspicuously, you write the same way you talk. Sometimes it feels like you were telling me a story as I read it. I read them with your voice at first, But as I reach the rest 500 pages left, I’ve realized that I had grown to forget how you sound.

The people from the streets must think I’m insane, by the way I’m going around places, mocking your voice as I speak, so I’d never lose it.

DAY 600

My angel,

I lied when I said in my much earlier letter, that I hated you. I could never hate you. Not when you’ve done nothing wrong. You are good, and you were chosen to do more good. I might never understand any of it, or agree with Heaven’s choices and definitions of good. But that’s because I’m a demon, surely. I could never understand you, or love you as you should be loved, no matter how much I wanted to. You have always been, the light by the end of my door, that I can’t seem to reach no matter how hard I’m running. I should not be allowed to say this, but I love you. Despite the fact that I’m barely worthy to. I know, I could try with all my might to know you, know your voice, your smell, to recognize the sound of your footsteps and to feel you even before you make yourself known. I am still not worthy. And yet, all the rules be damned, I love you. I love your silly magic tricks. I didn’t burn your hat. I could never, after all, how would I tell you of it if you ever came back.

DAY 700

My angel,

Funny how life works doesn’t it, I’ll give your boss that. We’ve known each other for more than 6000 years, and here I am, less than two years, out of my mind without my best friend. You’re no longer obliged to come back to me. I free you from my obsession. I will always be yours. I’ve been living as just that, now I’ll die the same way.

I was so sure when I fell, that it can’t get any worse than that. But as you fall further from me, I realized I’ve jinxed myself then. Because this, this is worse than anything. But perhaps it’s all part of God’s ineffable plan. Perhaps loving you is my punishment for asking her questions. To love but not to have. That is my vow to you. That I’ll love you anyway. Despite what I’ve said. Despite what you’ve said.

Despite everything.

DAY 3000

Aziraphale,

If you do one day decide to stop by here one day, You’ll find your bookshop no longer existing. And you’ll find me no longer existing either. If I could pray for one thing, as a fallen angel, owned no debt from God. I’d ask to see you one last time, even as glimpse of scattered dreams, I’ll take it. One last time before I destroy myself for good

#aziracrow fic #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #good omens season 2 #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic

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hopeswriting · 2 years ago

Note

Random khr questions because the Boi™ is on my mind and you indeed do characterization beautifully. (You should be proud and you should brag about it :3)

Given that Hibari is feral to some degree at the very least, do you think he'd be fine with camping in the wilderness for some time? Do you think he'd hunt his own food?

Canonically his favourite food is Hamburger Steaks, but what other foods do you think he likes? He is weak for the traditional aesthetic, so do you think this applies to food as well? Or is his secret, guiltiest pleasure just putting on a disguise and going to fast food restaurants late at night after a long patrol?

What do you think?

And may I send more somewhat silly Hibari-questions into your ask box? 🥺

hi, thank you for the ask!

aw, thank you! 🥺💖 (😳🥰)

i think he'd be fine with it, yeah, but he wouldn't necessarily like it. but he'd be able to put up with it, especially if there's something else in it he most definitely likes doing. i'm thinking of when dino trained him during the varia arc, taking him away from namimori in various natural landscapes. and if it wasn't for hibari getting to try to bite him to death to his heart's content while they were there, i do think he'd have thrown a tantrum and been difficult about needing to camp outside sooner than later lol.

and tbh generally speaking i think that's the rule of thumb with him! there's not a chance in hell he'll do something he doesn't want to do and/or dislike doing, EXCEPT if, 1) it's something he needs to do and/or can't be done by anyone else but him (like the more civilized part of the disciplinary committee work lol, or, in a way, him being the cloud's guardian LOL), and 2) it's still something he doesn't want to do and/or dislike doing, BUT. there's something fun in it for him to do too, that either evens out or outweighs the sucky part of the thing. (to use the same example again, during the varia arc, he only put up with dino acting as his tutor because he got to fight him while he did.) the CATCH tho, is that the second the fun thing does not even out the sucky thing, let alone outweigh it, all bets are fucking off. see him breaking his watch during the rainbow arc, with no regards whatsoever for fon. (he's SUCH a little shit, i love him.)

i could see him hunting his own food, yeah! idk about him going through with the kill tho. i mean, i know it's only ever said he likes little animals, but i think he has a soft spot for animals as a whole. so unless absolutely necessary (namely if he's by himself, and, you know, needs to eat and there's no other food around), i feel like he'd let that part to someone else.

that said, he most definitely enjoys hunting them and backing them into a corner. not in any malicious way, but just to asset his dominance as the apex predator in the area lol. he totally lets them go after that. and even makes sure to get back in their good graces again after that. the way he sees it, it's just a fun bonding activity that lets both of them keep their skills sharp, because of course he does, you know how he is lol.

i do think so, yeah!! he has a soft spot for traditional food and enjoys it the most, but generally speaking i feel like he just really loves warm, homemade food prepared with care and love. which is why he makes kusakabe cook his favorite meal for him haha. i also want to say that... i could see that being something he associates with an act and show of love. i mean, cooking is absolutely a love language, right? so someone cooking for him would be them caring for him, and him trusting someone to cook for him according to his tastes and eat it would be him also caring for them. (wait, this is kinda sweet actually. 🥺💖)

what other foods he likes... oh, i'm terrible at stuff like this zedfcgvh!! but, well, cold desserts, maybe? and he hasn't much of a sweet tooth, but when he craves it, it solely happens through desserts. if he likes hamburger steak most, then i guess he's a meat guy too. definitely a warm drinks guy too, tea, and maybe coffe too tyl. uhhhh, idk, snacks too? i mean, biting all those people to death on the daily and all day long would require energy, so i'm sure kusakabe makes sure he replenishes it between one beating and another lol. hibari also makes sure to have and keep a healthy diet, but in a casual way. not too casual of course, he needs and would want to keep his body in shape and at maximum capacity, but no doubt in a more casual way than ryohei or yamamoto lol.

as for fast foods, only on occasion, and the rare type of occasions, re: healthy diet and him liking homemade food. and, you know, for me it wouldn't necessarily be him being hungry after a long patrol at night. i firmly believe that in such cases, if there's even just the slightest possibility to make it happen at all, he'd rather wake kusakabe up to cook him food with absolutely no remorse whatsoever. 😭😂

he likes and respects fast foods as places and a type of restaurants tho! because you can just walk inside them alone, and sit at a table alone, and eat alone before leaving, and no one bats an eye at it or thinks anything about it, and everyone lets you be because that's literally not uncommon whatsoever. he definitely doesn't like or respect the noise and crowd as much lol, but as long as it's not too much, i could see him put up with it just to enjoy a little more his time there.

on the note of him disliking crowds, maybe like, seven out of ten, he goes for delivery. he's also that much more likely to accept a fast food invitation (yes i'm thinking of the 10th gen haha) if you tell him you'll eat it some place quiet and cozy and he's comfortable and familiar in, and where they won't be too much people. (fast food night at tsuna's place, anyone?)

so in that way i don't think it'd be a guilty pleasure of his, but instead a pretty well-known fact about him. but if i should give him a food-related guilty pleasure, i honestly think it'd be something he's allergic to. like, he's lactose intolerant or something, and he doesn't care zerdfghhg. he's still stealthy about it and hides it from everyone, but only because he's annoyed to death by the nagging. it's not like he'll die from it, so what's the big deal? he only gets a little sick, get over it. he will keep having his milk and cheese and whatnot, just watch him.

you may absolutely send me more hibari questions!! my ask box is always open and welcomes everyone for any kind of questions. 😊💖

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr headcanons #hibari kyoya #khr asks #loneliestmuffin

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adirtnap · 2 years ago

Text

game tier list twenty twenty two

2022 was the year of every video game being five or more video games at the same time. games were deckbuilding AND basebuilding AND roguelite AND fishing AND farmingsims. i don't think this worked out TOO well but i can see the appeal and i hope we can make a good one sometime!

game of the year 2022:

celeste!! the best and only video game. video, space, game. this is the peak of the genre, which is understandable because it is also the only game that exists.

it's just so FUN. like, first i play celeste as a vocation AND THEN when i'm exhausted i turn off celeste, sit for a sec, and think, "ah, time for some light fun. let's play a bit of celeste."

S tier (video games of all time)

mm rando ("Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask Randomizer, allsanity settings") this shit is so fun?? it's so fun. i will play this every year

inscryption ohhhhh man did someone have fun making this game and it SHOWS. some guy that i bet really likes and appreciates magic the gathering made a video game about: what if you played magic the gathering and it mattered SO MUCH. what if everything in your world was to enable you having a good and terrible time playing (original and realllly well-designed?) trading card games. and he was RIGHT and i had a good and terrible time

dwarf fortress!!! i first played dorf fort in 2012. i learned to play it alongside a guy i'd just met on study abroad because we were bored nerds. he is now my best friend. i have loved this game for TEN YEARS!! i once met derek yu (spelunky etcetera) at a very nice party and extremely embarrassingly trapped him in a conversation so i could talk about how good dwarf fortress is. he was very gracious and understandably uncomfortable. i like this game a LOT a lot. but, for every year i've loved dorf fort, i haven't really been able to recommend it to anyone. "hey, do you want to play a game that is so fucking hard and annoying to learn?" the answer is not usually "oh yeah for sure"

everything about the new UI-remake is good. they took the "impossible to learn" out of the sentence that i have so many times said, "this game is brilliant and enchanting and also impossible to learn." (the game is now fully "and also.") they did a good one.

A tier (delightful games)

elden ring my computer was too sad to keep playing this, and i am sad about that. it was GREAT, everything about it was as delightful as the darksoul and more. i can't wait to finish it (and probably give it s-tier) when computer good

fortnite they finally made a good battle royale and it is fortnite. good job i like my friends and this game is what i did with them a lot.

super mario sunshine perfect nintendo-y game. filled with little guys of all kinds. i will play this every year

the barnacle goose experiment horror abiogenesis autoclicker!!

sayonara wild hearts GOOOOD soundtrack good game

B tier (really fun games)

vampire survivors this is the most video game ever. i've heard it described as "the best video game of 2003." i've also heard the developer used to program gambling-machine animations. i would have played this on the school bus on the way to highschool. it rules

neon white really fun, zøooomy. i don't have the patience to find microoptimizations in levels to beat my friends, but DANG is playing each level for the first time fun. the writing was cringe AND free, it made me smile

C tier (games i liked)

citizen sleeper to paraphrase shannon: a dnd-videogame except for friends at the table enjoyers. i really liked that every choice felt limited but intentional, rather than disco's fuck-you kinda dice rolls. but, the sell was: "things… are happening. hmmmm what could they be?" which was not strong enough to keep me deeply invested. i'll keep going back and playing little by little

helltaker it's like eight minutes long and it's full of newgrounds drawings of demongirls. it's not a good game. i liked it a lot

D tier (games i did not like)

loop hero. backpack hero. slice and dice. dicey dungeons these are all the same game and they are all different variations of boring

cult of the lamb ANOTHER five-games-in-one that added up to… one-half of a good game? the fighting is like worse hades, the farming sim is like worse dontstarve. the minigames are ok. it was fine

subnautica LOVE a shark! but the game was brought down by the "you have to find a tiny item in a huge ocean and if you do not you cannot progress or you will miss major parts of the story" and also "find that tiny item on a short clock with constant danger." i ended up using the wiki, and shortly after ended up reading the plot because that was more fun than playing the lategame

however, many good moments of "oh wow yikes that's a fuckoff big shark huh" which i DID enjoy

death's door not a bad time but not for me. i think i'd rather play tunic (i haven't played tunic)

F tier (i hate it)

deathloop THEY BIOSHOCK-POISONED THIS GAME SO BAD

the concept of a majora's-mask-plus-dishonored-problem-solving-shooter? quite good. this game? really sucks. this game is the sum of every boring-but-sells lesson internalized by marketing departments on the success of "the genius of environmental storytelling," but instead of genuinely funny bits (like left4dead2's graffiti!), they went for an utterly bland "THIS UTOPIA? DIDN'T WORK OUT HUH"

also the core mechanic just wasn't very fun, was it, it just didn't work. they made it a pretty good fps and also a ~nothing else~

the upside was the art direction which: was good enough to do environmental storytelling with! it makes me mad that some goooood art got wasted on this game

hon. mentions

madness in square garden, for having a good name watching someone else play outer wilds

#posting

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jonathankatwhatever · 5 months ago

Text

Not sure what to type. It’s 1 Jul 2024. I wake up worried I’ll look in the mirror and my right eye will have dropped overnight. I know how that process works, but it’s annoying. Like the cat in the car. Looking at a place to buy today which would make Debbie happy, and which would make existence affordable. My life goes on, continuing to be what I do not want it to be, believing that this will come true. The difference in me, I now realize, is that I’ve shifted from one End of is this sufficient to the other, and I see with that shift how it changes the Triangular End so the question fits to the publication answer, from is it possible to write it to something I can’t quite define because that’s an n-1. I mean that if I say I’m writing, then that implies a writing, which isn’t the n but is rather a finite count. What we are clearly aiming for is a degree of understanding which generates answers, so it acts as an n. This relates to the classic ideas that something needs to be testable and useful, except now we’re describing how those concepts, how testable and useful occur.

I had an example flash through my head. Take something like the Hodge conjecture. I never remember what that is, so I just looked it up for a moment. We can relate that to some other conjectures, so Hodge appears as an example of that. In other words, the approach I think we’re taking is not to state here is the problem and the solution but rather to have the problems appear as examples of what gsProcess generates. I’m really out of it because I don’t remember the name which includes gsProcess. Right eye headaches are the bad ones for me. I get a loop running which counts back over what I’m doing on a slight delay, which means an echo, a reverberation, which means a space, which with a migraine is like dipping into pools of possibilities where the words bubble up to the surface with layers of meaning attached. They feel heavy, and murky, not clear and fast.

I’ve said the above about examples before. I think what’s missing is the enclosing motivation. The reason is that Mission material doesn’t belong within work describing mathematics. Defining direction mathematically means for example some of the following: we demonstrate the existence of Things and their existence within fields of Things generated through gsProcess, which is infinite within contextual potential and which generates [D3-4] and finite tObjects. These generate into a pairing which accumulates Things at either End. How quickly that becomes a war between good and evil, but mathematically it’s drawn toward poles representing the D0 versus Dn or Dn-1, meaning elimination of the structures or the Eternal, which is a mathematical term in this usage meaning continuation past counting. So it’s an application of the same infinity rules but to Things, counting either to 0 or to 1.

That actually gives a perspective: the approach to D0 is asymptotic, which is why condemnation is also Eternal in the mathematical sense. In the larger sense, this direction literally removes the meaning and thus the existence of the Thing, the iObjects which we can label or relate or associate to as the Thing.

It’s fascinating, isn’t it, how ideas like ‘left behind’ have that Metaphoric Bundle quality? The idea is true but not in the way it’s interpreted. Believing that the fact you believe is what you need is silly: people believe all sorts of terrible stuff. Believe or die is the misplacement of the MB into [D3-4]. I say misplacement but what I really mean is that people can see it though their actual actions, their actual Thingyness, reflects D2 into D3.

What exactly does that mean? I see it as a bounce or rebound: the flow from Dn-1, which I use as a contextual edge, into [D3-4] bounces off D0, which means there is a count along the D1-0 in Triangular so what rebounds off the End, off the Thing as an End, is what the Thing can do.

I stalled at that point because we need to describe the perceptual mechanism concept better. I need to lie down.

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simpingwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Jerome Valeska

Faith Wayne/Phoenix

'All you need

is a bit of Faith'

pt.3

___________________

Playing 20 Questions, what better way is there to bond with each other!

Enjoy! :)

Word Count: approx. 4.706 Words

___________________

"I don't know what the fuck you mean, Carrotboy." Was that really the best your stupid fucking brain came up with?! Bruce would be disappointed hearing your pathetic attempt at talking yourself out of this situation.

Almost as bad as the day Gordon deduced you as being the girl behind Phoenix and all you said was: "Wha? Me? Phoenix? Nah, old man." All while standing right next to Batman as casual as you unfortunately could be for an apparently all normal Gothamite. But today was really one of the days you could've used your brain to work for you and not against you.

Sometimes it felt like your brain was a mini version of Jason, throwing a set of Tim's DnD dice every morning just to decide whether or not it would be helpful or a menace/bother to you.

"Sure. And I am blonde." Yeah yeah, you get it, you really weren't good at lying sometimes, shut up buddy-boy. "Why do you care if I am or not?" You ask back instead, without explicitly confirming or denying his question either way, coughing a bit from the dust on the floor you disturbed by letting yourself fall onto your knees. All other cells beside yours and his were empty once more…the guard really decided to lock you two away. This felt like a less terrible Solidary.

You really shouldn't have thought too soon when you saw that Solidary Holding Sign last time…this is all dragging your time for this investigation out. This is going to take foreverrrrrrrr. You feel yourself go insane already, alone at the fact that you're here already for one and a half days and you hadn't made ANY progress.

"I just…it's weird. I have been here since a whole hellish month now and no one gave a fuck about me, except if they could steal my lunch or push my head into it." It's not like the food here is very missable, you bet. But it would explain why he looked a bit…thin…for his age and height. "Hungry then, I'm guessing?" "Fuckin' starving, girly."

You hum at that, placing your forehead against the rough gray bricks of the wall that was between you two. "If they at least wouldn't have locked me in here as well – after all its not like I can't stand up for myself –, I could have gotten us something. Doubt it's worth it though? Tastes like dog food?" The ginger on the other side chuckles, wincing out audibly due to some of his healing facial wounds though, "You betcha, but if it's the only thing you get here and you got no connections to the guards, it's gonna taste at least mediocre very soon."

Let's hope you're not here for too long to test out his assumptions on the food.

"So if you're not an inmate…who are you? A guard they snuck in? To hear us out? Are they perhaps suspecting a breach?" Guessing you as a guard wasn't too far off. You didn't know him, you didn't know if one of your siblings or even Bruce caught him and threw him in here, so you would definitely not reveal your identity as Phoenix to him. That would be so fucking stupid either damn way, you didn't reveal that to even your best friends. After all it was an incredibly important rule next to the "Do not kill your enemy." Rule. A rule you and Jason regularly acted like it doesn't exist. Oops.

Never reveal your identity to ANYONE without Bruce's explicit permission. Not just for the protection of the Family's secret and their safety but also for the safety of the people you're all close to, both those that knew you all as the masked heroes/vigilantes or as the normal citizens you're outside of Patrols or missions.

"Not a guard. Don't you think you would've seen me before then?" While you continued talking to him, your eyes scanned the surroundings a second time, hoping you missed something but you got the sense you would have to use some of the things you sneaked into the Asylum. The positives of being a female "Inmate" while only men were on shift for registration? They couldn't legally frisk you, even at Arkham. "I don't know. As said, been here for a month only now…you could've been on vacation beforehand." "Trust me, what I actually …my job doesn't even know what month-long vacations are. A weekend...maybe." You stand up from your dusty, dirty spot on the floor, brushing your now cement-dusted hands off on your already nasty looking prisoner uniform before slipping a small black plastic object from your cleavage. Big tits had their various perks on various occasions, like great hiding spots for small tools. Like your trusty, assorted lockpicks in the form similar to a pocket knife. Never going anywhere without it.

"...Are you still-" He stops himself when he hears a small click from the side of your cell, then the "quiet" sliding of a metal door. And when he turned his head, you were already outside his own cell, crouching over to work on the lock of his cell door. His eyes widened at how quiet your footwork seemed to be that he didn't even hear you walk out of yours and over to his cell. "How did…how are you not afr- " "Shhh, I watched their pattern yesterday, that of the guards. They periodically take 20 minute breaks while the cells are empty and are usually gone for another extra 15 because why the hell should they watch empty cells after all, right?"

He watches you pick the lock with no sweat caused, nodding a bit unsure at your explanation, not knowing any better himself as he crawls backwards slowly once you slid his cell door open as well, not shutting it fully behind you as well to get out again more quickly once you had to.

"Yeah no…you're definitely not a guard. Fucking hell…who are you!?" You squint at his defensive position, looking up at you from his small, almost curled up spot on the ground. His black eye was healing better than you expected for the fact that he seems to be missing the important minerals and vitamins to have his body heal his wounds at a normal rate. Depending on how long you're stuck here as well, you had to somehow get him something to eat…perhaps you could bribe a guard to get him actual food. Not the other…"food". Eh, disgusting.

"Fine, I'll tell ya. But first of all, get off the damn floor, you look at me like you think I would stomp your head in. Why should I beat you up after I stopped that SUV-build of a man from taking care of that job? Makes no sense at all." He must've realized so too, looking to the side in embarrassment before using the wall next to him to stand up and move over to the "bed" in the left corner of the room, next to the wall of your cell.

After one night on them already, your comfort-spoiled back cracked like a nightlight stick this morning, you were way too used to the comfy, perfect mattress of your bed at home…hmm, not too soft, not too hard…

You snap out of your daydream when you see the confused tilt of his head, waiting for your reveal and your explanation. First though, you had to make something sure. "How are the wounds?" He frowns a bit, yet shrugs, "Nothing I didn't have to deal with before…" Was he a street kid before he was taken here? You then would expect him to be just slightly better at defending himself, or at least at avoiding the grudge of others.

"Street kid?" "...Well, no. I was able to avoid that at least. I uh…nevermind." "Fine, then I'll keep my secret as well." You claim boldly, throwing yourself next to him onto the hard bed, nearly touching him at how close you came by accident.

Sitting this close, you were able to look at his bandaged face much better, his suddenly wide open eyes revealing what a beautiful shade of dark green they were. What a shame that he was probably absolutely nuts, the slight sign of usually probably very obvious freckles on his face would almost melt away your first opinion of him: Inmate in Arkham, hands off.

"W-what? No! I wanna know…" "How 'bout a game then? 20 Questions." "That...is not a game."

It was to you and your adoptive siblings, well, when you all were still younger at least. It was the best game next to 'I spy with my little eye' to pass the time with on Patrol and to you it was the early bonding time you often missed out on with them back then in your own opinion. It was a good trick to make them be a bit more open about themselves, maybe it worked with the Ginger too. "It is, you just don't have enough imagination i guess. 20 Questions, no lying. Deal?" Stretching your hand out towards the pale one in his lap, you smile sweetly at him. If all of Arkham already hates you two, why shouldn't you two team up at least?

"...Deal. But I ask the first one." Sure, why shouldn't he, if it makes him happy.

"If you're not a guard, who are you then?" Didn't expect any other question, to be fair. But you made the rules yourself, no lying. Well, to a degree with this question, you definitely wouldn't reveal your identity THIS easily, to an Arkham inmate even less. "A Detective Aide." It wasn't a complete lie, you're technically under questionable contract with Jim, in case the media ever wondered how you, a normal citizen, ended up at so many of the crime scenes, seemingly helping the real Detectives with their jobs.

"...wait. You're with the GCPD??" Seems like you struck a sensitive spot with that already, even his bruised eye opening a bit alongside his other one from the shock as he scoots away from you by a few inches. "I'm guessing the GCPD then caught you for whomever you killed?" His green eye caught your dark blue ones, he looked like a deer in headlights, "Y-you could say that. Yeah…I was finally free and they threw me back into a new cage…"

Finally free?

"My turn. What the hell is your name anyway, I don't want to keep calling you Ginger or Carrotboy for all eternity." "Well, unlike me, if you're working with these corrupt dickwads, you aren't exactly stuck an eternity here, are ya?" Well, it heavily depends on how long they would let you simmer in the cells and nothing else. Might as well become an eternity with your usual amount of luck.

"...oh…and it's Jerome. Jerome Valeska. Yours?" Huh. You swore you heard that name somewhere before, you just didn't know exactly where. If he killed someone, he might've been in the news that day? Though this was Gotham's newspapers you're thinking about here, if they'd waste even an inch of paper for one measly murder case, it'd be really fucking odd.

But a mass murder caused by the Joker's Laughing Gas? Yeah. That would probably manage to find a spot. Somewhere.

"I take that as your second question, Jerome. My name…well, first I need you to promise to not utter it to anyone in here." "Do you realize that they'd punch my teeth out before I could even mention it?" Point taken at that, yeah, who even knew if they would believe him if they already wanted him dead for some reason.

"My undercover name is Magdalena…but my real name is Faith Wayne."

Till now, all your answers already sent some kind of fresh shock anew through him, so once more he stared at you in disbelief, "Faith…Wayne?! You're a-" "Wayne isn't an uncommon surname, mind you." He pulls his brows up, having a hard time believing you, not that 'Wayne' is common for a surname. But that you're not A Wayne.

"But are-" "Yeah." "Damn. …How did a Wayne end up as an Aide? I would expect you to someday get your father's company…or at least work there by now." And be hated by all of Gotham, not just its mass of criminals!? HA. NO!

"I...would rather not…too much work, which I already got enough of on most days." Cleary your answer only spawned more fresh question marks in Jerome's head as he kept looking at you just as lost as before. "Adopted or…"

"Biological."

"So…with you knowing that I am a Wayne, yay, you basically know where I live alread-" "Some extremely extravagant old-money house I am guessing." Nail on the head, yeah. You nod at that, in a 'More or less' way before you pick your interrupted sentence back up, "Where did you live before your address was changed into Arkham?" He had started picking at his fingers, especially the dry skin around his nails as he pulls his lips into a grimace. His home didn't give him good memories then, like most people that were here now. You doubt there is even one Inmate in Arkham that didn't have at least one bad or even terrible memory of their old homes.

"A…a traveling Circus. Does Haly's Circus ring a bell?" Ring a bell?! It was etched into your mind from your brother's childhood stories. Of course you did. "I…I actually know very well what Circus you mean…one of my adopted brothers lived and worked there with his parents as well." His mouth formed an O at that, surprise even more evident even with his still aching wounds keeping his facial expressions on the low pretty much, but he definitely didn't look like he wanted to be left in the dark about your Brother now. "Does the name Grayson ring a bell to you then?"

He was unsurprisingly quick to nod at that, "The flying Graysons. I heard of the "incident" that killed them back then from some talk I overheard while working, I was only 3 then yet though, when they died. So I fortunately didn't witness it, even if, I wouldn’t remember I guess…" You couldn't believe it, of course they most likely never met, but Dick was in the same Circus as the ginger next to you. It was shocking how small the world sometimes really was, but not all that weird if your own whole life circled around nothing but Gotham and the surrounding area…

For a few moments, both of you sat quietly, working on digesting and processing the new information: For you it was the Circus that connected you to two people now, for Jerome the fact that your a Wayne.

He would've expected anything but that.

He was first to continue though, turning more towards you so he didn't have to crane his neck to the side the whole time, leaning against the wall as he pulled his legs against his chest, mustering you more thoroughly, "So…how is it living with a billionaire dad?" Yeah, how was such a life?

"Pretty damn boring sometimes. Not even because I can have or do have everything I would possibly want, nah, he didn't raise us like that must I add. But…the fucking events, the gala about every. second. month. They make us want to bash our heads in, to put it bluntly but honest. My second oldest brother was close to making it a reality once because he hates formal suits like the plague." It was something you rarely confessed to other people, as you promised to keep a somewhat good impression in front of strangers for Bruce, so it felt a bit weird feeling so at ease with sharing your distaste for your boring ass rich kid life with the boy in front of you.

Maybe because there was an incredibly low chance he would ever see the world beyond the gates of Arkham again to talk about your deeply personal feelings…

Why did that idea sound so…terrible to you? He killed someone for God's sake! ...He still didn't look the part either way, his ginger hair, crusted over even now with his own blood, one stray, unruly lock of it hanging away and over his forehead, the dimmed freckles on his face, nose and even going down his neck, probably continuing on his shoulders...and the rest of his body. The deep interest buried into his unbruised eye at all the things he got to know about you and all it made him want to know more about you.

Had you met him outside of Arkham, he would've never come to your mind as the subject of probably cold blooded murder. And from all of Batman's "Robins", you're the one that could see through the many masks of your fellow humans the best. So why, if there was one, could you not see through his? "Do...do I have something on my face?" Wait, have you been staring at his face the whole time of your stupid inner monologue!? Oh great, not weird at all, Faith. But you're literally here as a crazy person, undercover, but either way: you were allowed to stare.

"A few freckles are saying hi. But other than that, no."

"Don't start with them now…I can't even count as far for how often I was bullied for them at that stupid fucking shithole of a Circus before! I hate them!" He hates his...freckles? Why? They aren't even that prominent on him, which might be due to the current lack of daily sunlight in Arkham. But how can anybody bully someone for them, you wished you had freckles but noooo, your Dad's stupid genes made you look so damn basic, black hair, blue eyes, wohoo baby... "I think they look really nice on you, though I think you need to get out into the sun a bit more again…" "...Nice!? I doubt anyone ever even thought about complimenting them…" Jerome laments, first caught off guard, then in thought, brushing with his non-bandaged hand over said few still visible patches of them on his cheeks. It was very obvious that he was badly self-conscious about them, a random girl telling him that she liked them wouldn't be able to fix years of negative comments about them like magic.

Sometimes you wished insecurities worked that way though, that all a person needs is ONE compliment and everything is forgotten. But nothing is ever that easy.

"Well, you were surrounded by cunts then. I doubt you will ever have to see any of these people again though, so forget what they said about you. The past is the past, live in the present, and always keep planning ahead for the future." A short, melancholic chuckle shook his body for a moment as he also shook his head, letting the hand fall back onto his knees as he toyed with the pillow in his other hand. As much as the bandage let him at least. "What future…this cell is my only future, where they will let me rot and decay if need be. I will die in here, either from malnutrition, the other nutcases here…or myself. Whoever or whatever is quicker." He tried to hide it, but you saw his eyes both glaze over, quick to soak the threatening tears up with the bandage around his right hand.

He knew his most likely fate. So did you.

So why did you tell him about all this, knowing it would only hurt him further? Were you that detached from reality sometimes?

"I'm sorr-" "It's okay." "No it isn't, I…I forget my manners or to think through my words, especially now. I can't help it..." The last time you took your medication was two days ago now, the afternoon before this Undercover Mission began. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, had the accident yesterday not happened – would you be able to investigate now instead of being stuck in the cell blocks because otherwise your head would be attempted to be smashed into pancake batter – you could've managed with the steady decline of the meds missing in your system.

"Why?" Asks the actual inmate, yeah thanks. "Impulsivity Disorder, a bit like ADHD but without all the other shtick connected to that. So even if I am not a real Inmate…I have a bit of a crack running through my noggin too. Ha…ironic sometimes…" Phoenix, a vigilante hunting down the insane and crazy of Gotham…is one of them. Well, your condition is still much more mild than whatever is wrong with some of the women and men in here, you don't violently rip the head of Squirrels off to eat them like Cocoa Puffs, for a quite brutal but unfortunately not made-up and gruesome example. "And you? Has anyone ever told you what made you…you?" He shook his head yes, but didn't immediately come out with the words, instead he felt his eyes wander up to the ceiling of the cell. Just as boring and plain as everything else around the two of you – the only interesting aspects right now.

"..."Diagnosed" as a psychopath…if they only knew how long it took for me to get pushed this far…too far." Air quotes added to the word 'Diagnosed' woke your curiosity anew as you used the fact of the beds being slightly wider than a normal single bed format to lie down with your head at the opposite end of it, slightly tilted to position your now propped up legs, one folded over the other, next to his. He looked caught off guard how even after, especially after, he confessed his own condition, his reason for being in Arkham and not a normal prison, you kept being so close to him on your own free will. Hell, you even got more comfortable.

...Psychopathy.

Psychopaths are good at hiding their true selves, but as you mentioned earlier, you were uncannily good at seeing through such masks as well. And yes, that included those of Psychopaths and Sociopaths. So when your first thought of "Shit, he is probably only acting shy, he might be manipulating you." crossed your mind, moments after you heard of his diagnosis, "diagnosis", it was just as quickly rubbed away again by that comically large mental eraser when you realized that you would've most certainly noticed if that werethe damn case. If he would've had lied till now.

But he took this game of questions as serious as you hoped he would. Unlike your unruly siblings sometimes, especially your youngest brother, that little Garden Gnome with an attitude.

"Why the air quotes?" You ask the question that burned you the most of all he just said, wanting to know how it came to said diagnosis. "You're gonna laugh…a Detective just wrote it down. Arkham accepted it as a real diagnosis, didn't question it at all. They didn't even call for a "second assessment". Air quotes this time because there wasn't a first one in the first place of fucking course…" So…it might be some other mental problem…or none at all. But the GCPD wanted to make their job easier, or that one Detective at least…

Even after everything you and your family are trying to do, everything the Commissioner is trying to do…corruption is eating up even the Police to this very day. Will Gotham ever see the day that the innocent and the rightful, the law abiding citizens win? Well, Jerome still killed someone, he wasn't really all that innocent. But he had been helpless either way in that moment, his fate was left in the hands of the Detectives and Officers taking care of his file, his case. In the hands one was supposed to be able to trust.

"...You mentioned that you were…pushed too far. If it's not too personal, who…was your victim? One of your bullies?" The pillow was gripped very tightly suddenly at your question, a dark look overshadowing his own curiosity as you realized he was about to lose to his tears again, angry ones this time. "No." "Then-" "I killed my mother." Oh. Oh damn.

And that was the same thing and only thing that you managed to form with your IQ of impressive 160. "Oh. Oh damn."

"Yeah, I doubt you want to hear that. They didn't listen either."

Because they don't care. All they saw was a crazy, probably insane boy that killed his poor mother, they didn't care to dig any further, you don't doubt that with these underpaid fuckwits sometimes. As often as you had to work with them, you wished you didn't have to, but it was a deal made with Jim. As your Patrols didn't often end all that calmly, much like Jason's. The two of you were only "Robins" not turned off by the idea of "accidentally" dragging a criminal across the asphalt with your cars or motorcycles. And Jim knew that. Being the closest to you of all of Batman's Sidekicks, he also was much more lenient.

Help the GCPD every once in a while with something too difficult for their normal Detectives and your own "crimes" don't make it into the files. Sometimes you could throw in a good word for Jason as well.

You had to work with people whose work ethics made you question even the system you were supposed to protect with your family. If anything, it needed to be reformed, not the people alone. Desperately.

"No. I do. I'm not the police, I do want to know." "Didn't you just say you're an Aide for them?" Well... yeah. You did. So what.

You lift your head to lock eyes with him, eyebrows knitted together at him in some way or another for calling out your one half-lie between all your truthfulness until now. You definitely wouldn't acknowledge it this time, he would have to believe either the first or the latter version. But only you knew that both are right in a way. "You have the chance to tell your side of the story to someone who promises to listen and you begin questioning that person's occupation?"

He returned the same irritated expression, as much as he could without wincing out again, holding the bandage over his cheek before grumbling out at you, since not only you knew that you're right. "...all…all of it?" "If it is needed to explain your reasoning of going with such a brutal decision of killing your own mother, yes. All of it."

His mother forced him to take care of nearly all chores around their small, crammed trailer that 3 people had to live in. If he wasn't fast enough or she found the smallest something to complain about in how he did it, and he told you that she found a reason basically every damn time, Lila, he said was her name, would beat him. Often, regularly and routinely even, to the point he wouldn't just bruise but also bleed or have to limp for weeks from how hard she would hit him, naturally with help of other objects than her hands as well.

The last ten minutes of your sneaked in stay in his own bleak cell were spent with him telling you about his childhood, of growing up at Haly's ever since he could remember. Of course all that while you made sure to analyze every twitch of a muscle and any non present one, the movements of his hands. Everything. He begins with the fact that he even had a twin brother, named Jeremiah. Of the cruel way the other residents and workers of the Circus treated him as a kid. All he was used for by the Circus was to dispose of the dung and shit all the Circus' animals left behind after the shows and feeding or cleaning routines.

All the while, she fucked a new man every second day, right in the next room or trailer, depending on who the newest man was. Clowns, Acrobats, Lion-Tamers…everything.

Then he told you about what his brother did to him, how their mother only turned her punishments and beating up a notch of extreme…because his twin told their mother that Jerome wanted to kill him in his sleep. Jerome was adamant towards you about that having been a blatant lie, as he couldn't have even done so, he was locked in a literal animal's travel cage that winter night, by his own mother as well, so she could've denied it too.

And one night, Jerome confessed, he could no longer hold onto his rage, his anger that build for all these years…he just couldn't hold it back any longer. He let his vile, dark thoughts become real and he killed her, but he waited until she touched him again, when she came in to beat him for forgetting to clean the beer cans up. With an axe, he explained, his eyes unfocused as he stared at his hands, those that held the murder weapon. His uncle, he said that fact with a sour tone, helped him try to cover it up but as he was here now, it clearly didn't work.

But she didn't, she simply used that event as an incentive to "discipline" the "black sheep of her family" even further.

You could only imagine the amount of nights Jerome spent trying to find any spot of his body he cpuld lie on without putting pressure on his bruised skin. The tears that must've fallen in all these hellish nights...

And then you were all caught up to his situation, eyes wide the whole time, your continuous follow up questions, for everything he told you with a knot in throat, just as choked out as his answers. You simply couldn't or didn't want to believe that he went through all these things…and he defended himself…he wanted…freedom.

And Arkham is what he got in return…

"Jerome, I-" you just wanted to give him your honest opinion on it all when you hear it in the distance: the jingling of two heavy key rings. The guards are coming back! "What?" Your hearing seems to be better than his as you hushed him, quickly sitting up on the bed to push a finger against his lips, getting incredibly close to the now unhindered crying boy. Again, an action from your side that happened without much thought from your end as you motioned him to either be quiet or to whisper now.

You didn’t want to leave his side already, especially not now! He looked like he was about to fall in on himself like an old building with you causing him to dig back up all of this past trauma, having given up to hold back the tears. His eyes puffy, they look into yours like a kicked puppy,

"Please don't leave me now…"

In that moment you realize that you're probably the first person he told about his abuse, about everything…a stranger he met yesterday was kinder and more understanding than any adult or other person he came across in his poor excuse of a life. He deserves to have at least one person to listen to him.

To hear him out.

But you had to leave for now, get back to your own cell before the guard saw that you had the tools to open them yourself. With a bitter, apologetic smile, you slowly get off his bed, nodding slowly at him when he keeps silent. But you couldn't give a promise without words either way, so, when you slide the cell door open as quietly as even possible, you turn towards the now absolutely miserable looking ginger one last time for today it seemed.

"We will talk more…I promise, just have some Faith."

#jerome velaska #jerome valeska x oc #Jerome Valeska x batsis!OC #batfam x oc #batfam x batsis #batfam x batsis!oc #Innocent Jerome Valeska #dc x oc

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dresshistorynerd · 10 months ago

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#ahh i see. well. i stand. perhaps not entirely corrected but more accepting of using the term! thanks for having the patience to explain :)#i can definitely see the connection between finnish history and the histories of other colonized peoples and can't deny there are. a lot of#similarities. it's just in the past few years i've seen a sort of. well i don't want to call it uhriutuminen but it kinda has felt like tha#occasionally where people have emphasized how tough history has been on us finns and oh how much we've suffered and oh look we are#victims of two empires augh ough the horror. like. it's not that that's necessarily untrue as you pointed out but a lot of the time the#people saying this stuff have done it while ignoring like. how finns have benefited from these things (and consequently how they've put#down others like the sámi or karelians or god forbid the romani people). like they say that finland was treated terribly under russian rule#and while that can be said of th russification period and whatnot before that one could argue being a part of russia was a better time#for finland than being part of sweden ever had been! autonomy and getting to develop our own language and getting our own currency#etc. like the people saying these things seems to really want finland to slot in with the rest of eastern europe and their experiences#under russian rule when the truth is that finland came out both of being a part of russia and even wwii way better than the rest even when#finnish experiences are closer to them than say sweden or western europe. i feel like this attitude has been spread for example by mr prez#candidate mika aaltola... like we've jumped from wanting to be seen as part of the west to wanting to be seen as part of the east when#there's nuance there. and that's why seeing people emphasize the colonialism and oppression finland has faced makes me abit wary n stuff#but you're definitely right! i shall look into the study you linked more. also ahdfas we had it bad so it's fine if they have it bad too#is somehow depressingly finnish. i think my mom's said those words almost exactly lmao.

and that bit about finnish colonialism being#even more shameful because we should know better from our own history is also very true and a thought i've had many times for example#when it comes to refugees. like almost half a million refugees settled all around finland after wwii and now many if not most people#are related to said refugees and they've done nothing but enrich the culture but because they weren't called refugees or asylum seekers#bur instead evakot it's different apparently. ok.#also last thing funny that you should mention the club war because i am from my ostrobothnian grandpa's side directly descended#from jaakko ilkka :D i bet his ghost hates it when i visit the turku castle - which he had to escape - by my own free will lmao#anway. would've been easir to reply as comment but i like to inconvenience myself and others. thanks for the lovely discussion! :)

I do absolutely get your weariness and it's undoubtedly justified. Painting yourself as a victim is an easy way to deflect any responsibility of your own, but it's not actually that simple, people can be both victims and perpetrators at the same time. I find those types of "we are actually the real victims :(" nationalist extremely pathetic. Like I'm irrationally angry at all the early 20th century nationalists (which I'm sure many of were just fascists) who idolized the Club War, because at the same time they were having brawls with worker union reds so obviously they were exactly the same people as all the Finnish soldiers of the colonial army killing the uprising peasants. And then there's the obvious thing that now we are very much beneficiaries of colonialism, like none of us alive have been oppressed because we are Finns (except like maybe some of the Swedish Finns, because some of those kids (obviously applies to Sámi kids too, probably even more) are still sometimes punished for speaking their first language in school there was a court case about it in EU), but Sámi people and Karelians (and as you said Romani people) are oppressed by Finland right now, so when we talk about current Finnish politics it's so pathetic to pretend to be a victim. But I do think we need to unpack both colonialism we are doing and what was done to Finns in past to actually unpack both, because they in the end come from the same white supremacist root.

The proud Finnish tradition to fuck over others after you've been fucked over... :')) And like those WW2 refugees were also treated terribly, and now people can be like "yeah remember those times when Finns were refugees?? And none of them complained about their treatment!" and yes they did (also most of them were Karelians not Finns). Literally zero ounce of solidarity in these people.

Also extremely cool of you to be a descendant of Jaakko Ilkka XD You should try chewing the Turku walls too next time you visit! xD (I don't remember if he was one of those who was punished like that but still :D) I don't think there's much to be proud of about this artificially constructed Finnish identity but like I think rebellion against exploitation is always a pretty proud heritage!

Thank you too for a very nice discussion!!

Hey, I noticed that in one of your posts you showed an Iron Age Finnish woman's dress. Would you happen to have a good idea of what Finnish men were wearing in that era? The information on it seems sparse. I do have a relevant book that I'm about to look through, but I'd like to hear your insight too!

Hi! Thanks for the question (and sorry for the slow answer), I do love Finnish Iron Age clothing so it's always my pleasure to write about it. I've been wanting to do a deep dive into this for a long while, so maybe I'll do at some point a post about women's dress too.

Unfortunately no one has good idea of the Finnish Iron Age men's dress (and if you find any book or other source that claims otherwise, do not trust it), since there's much fewer archaeological finds of men's dress than women's dress. The most accepted theory on why the textiles of women's dress survived surprisingly well is because of the bronze ornamentation commonly sewn into especially the fine women's dresses of the era. The bronze protected them from decomposing fully. Presumably men's dresses were not decorated similarly then. There are some finds though and we can piece together at least some kind of vague picture.

I will be discussing the period from Viking Age to Crusade Age in Finland. Viking Age is often defined to cover 800s to mid-1000s and the Finnish Crusade Age started right after the Viking Age and ended in the end of 1200s, where the Finnish Medieval era begins. Crusade Age refers to the period where mostly Swedish (also German) crusaders in the span of couple of centuries conquered lands of the Baltic-Finnic pagans. The crusades of this period targeted pagans all over eastern Baltic Sea, including Baltic-Finnic Karelians, Livonians and Estonians, and Baltic peoples, and the Scandinavia too, where Sámi people were targeted. After that the Finland and Sápmi were colonized by Norse people and stayed that way untill Finland was transferred under Russian rule, but to this day Sápmi still stays that way. The current Finland was very multicultural area, mostly populated by Finno-Ugric peoples, including Sámi people, Karelians and various Finnish peoples.

It's important to understand that even just Finnish peoples where not homogeneous, but had distinct, yet of course strongly related cultures. These were Finns (suomalaiset) (yes most people we now call Finns were not in fact called that) in the coast of southwestern and western Finland, Tavastians (hämäläiset) in central-western lake-Finland and Savonians (savolaiset) in central-eastern lake-Finland. This means we can't mix findings from all over Finland to reconstruct a dress without evidencing that all the elements were actually used in one place. These three tribes had broadly similar base for their clothes, but distinctive jewelry and detailing. The big divide was and has always been between eastern and western Finnish peoples. This is because western Finnish people were in close contact through the sea with Norse people and southern Baltic-Finnic peoples, while eastern Finnish people, Savonians mostly, were influenced a lot by their proximity with Karelians. Another dividing factor was the very different environmental conditions between western and eastern Finland. The Finnish coast especially in west is very flat and fertile land, while the lake area, especially in eastern Finland is very rocky, hilly and quite infertile. The main way it effected clothing differences was that western Finland being more wealthy had more elaborate clothing. Tavastians in both occasions fall quite in between, but they tended to be more in the western cultural camp.

My most important sources are a study by a doctor of cultural anthropology, Jenny Kangasvuo, Savon historia I (Savonian history) digitized and open sourced here and the digitized archeological collection of Finnish Heratage Agency. They are all in Finnish so not very useful for most people unfortunately.

Finnish Men's Dress in Viking and Crusader Ages

The basic garments men wore were broadly similar as women. They wore a shift/shirt, knee or above-knee length dress, cloak, belt, shoes and some kind of headwear. Wool was used most commonly, though the shirt would sometimes be linen too. Even evidence of silk has been found in some western Finland graves. I would assume that would be from a dress of some great man, who traveled to gain riches, possibly with vikings. Embroidery and decoration with metals was a typical feature of the whole Eastern Baltic Sea area. In Finland during this period bronze was the most common decorative metal, but silver was used too. Decorative elements were usually woven with small bronze spirals into all kinds of patterns. Here's examples from the reconstructed Ravattula's dress (Finns) used by women.

Shirt

The shirt (in Finnish shift of both women and men was called shirt) was basically a long shirt or under dress. We can assume it was similar to those of women's except shorter since the dress men wore was shorter too. They were made from wool or linen, I would assume wool was used in winter and linen in summer, when linen was even available. The neckline had a cut and closed with a bronze brooch. Horseshoe brooch was common. The first one is a quite typical bronze horseshoe brooch with a bit of ornamentation from Salo (Finns). The second one is from Tuukkala, (Savonians), it has exceptional ornate detailing and is uncommonly silver, not bronze. The third picture has two quite uniquely ornamented horseshoe brooches, first from Köyliö (Finns), second from Kurikka (Finns).

Legwear and footwear

Very little of men's legwear has survived and it's unclear weather men wore pants or separate pant legs, leg wraps or perhaps long socks. Evidence of strings decorated with bronze spirals and tablet woven band has been found in leg area of men's graves. This could mean that they wore either leg wraps, long sock or some sort of pant legs that needed to be secured with string or band under knee. Women used strings and tablet woven tape to secure leg wraps and socks, which I think supports that theory. Sometimes both bronze decorated string and tablet woven band was found in the leg area, which would still be explained by this theory, since it was common to decorate the ends of the bands with bronze decorated strings. Here's an example of sock bands just like that from the earlier mentioned reconstruction of the Ravattula's women's dress. Since men's dress was shorter, I think it would make sense if they still wore some kind of pants or separate pant legs with socks or leg wraps like that.

However, the strings and bands could have also been part of the shoes. Everyone probably wore similar shoes - laced leather shoes with a bit of pointed end. They might have been short or ankle length and the lacing was done with either leather cord or tablet woven band, which would also explain the findings. Socks or feet wraps would have been used in them, and straw or wool could be added as filling for warmth. Here's a pair of traditional Izhorian shoes from Estonia from early 1900s, and a pair of traditional Sámi shoes. The designs were likely roughly similar in Viking and Crusader Ages, though obviously more simple, and it's probable that Finnish shoes very something like that too. Here's a 1893 drawing of what findings of shoe material from Korpiselkä (Savonian or Karelian) might have looked like. Considering the quality of archaeology of that time, copious amounts of salt should be applied. And finally as a fourth picture there's reconstruction shoes from Ravattula's dress.

These are not necessarily mutually exclusive theories. The lacing of the shoe could have been laced up the leg and used also to secure either sock or leg wrapping, or they could have been separately secured in ankle and knee respectively.

In some graves twill fabric has been found in the leg area. It could be part of pants or for example leg wrapping, which was often made of twill. One theory about pants is that they were similar as some findings in Sweden, where fairly tight pants made of twill were secured at the hem with buttons similar to cuff studs. These kinds of cuff stud buttons are quite a common find in Finland and some have been found in men's graves close to legs.

Dress

Again there's not much findings of dresses, but a little more perhaps. It was usually from wool. The shape was either a tunic or an open coat. In Karelia there's findings of men's dress suggesting tunics thicker than women's dresses and made from sarka, a type of broadcloth. On the other hand, in Masku (Finns) they found buttons in a row on top of the torso, which suggest a coat closed with buttons. The first picture is a drawing of the grave find. Similary coak closing amounts of buttons have also been found in other places in western Finland. This suggests that Finns and probably Tavastians too wore long coats buttoned to the waist and Savonians wore tunic of Karelian influence. Below there's couple of version of what might this western Finnish men's coat dress could've looked like. The first is an imagined version of the coat based on the Masku grave finds, second is just as imagined version based on Eura (also Finns) grave finds.

Take these "reconstructions" with a strong dose of salt. These are more artistic reconstructions than scientific, since there's not enough material and too much guesswork needs to be done. And because we can see in the Masku grave drawing right here that the other deceased has a large buckle to (probably) close the shirt (to be fair, it could for a cloak too), like was typical, I find it implausible that the coat neckline would be small and round covering the buckle. If you make a decorated big buckle, I assume you want to show it. I would find a v-neckline more probable. It's also easier to make without wasting expensive fabric.

The buttons are interesting. There were what you would imagine - your typical buttons made of bronze like seen in the first artifact from Hattula (Tavastians). But then there was silver jingle bells used as buttons, found for example in both Masku and Eura graves, Eura findings pictured below.

It's possible, even probable I'd say, that the hemlines of men's dresses were finished with tablet weaving patterns, like women's dresses. Also I would assume the pattern of the men's dress (and shirt) was mostly similar to the women's underdress/shirt patterns. So here's couple of different reconstruction patterns for women's dress. Different historians have made different interpretations of the patterns, so it's very much undecided what it really was like.

Belt

This is likely the most ornamental part of men's dress. They could be made out of leather or tablet woven band. And there's another east-west cultural divide here. Karelian belts were made out of leather, were usually 1,5-2,5 cm wide, decorated with iron or bronze studs and had a buckle made out of iron or bronze. These types of belts have been found in Savonia too, for example in Tuukkala grave find, which you can find very cool pictures of in this photo documentation of the dig in pages 173-175. In western Finland a "hela" belt was the common style. I don't think there's a world for hela in English. It's a sort of decorative lamella, small metallic plate (not necessarily square but often so) attached to fabric or leather with studs or sewing. Hela belt came from the Permians of Kama river, who were one of the many Finno-Ugric peoples who used to populate much of European side of Russia. Karelians lived closer to Permians, so you might think Permians would influence eastern Finland more, but my theory is that the costal Finns, who frequently joined viking crews and at least were in close contact with merchants including vikings, who would travel along the eastern route through the eastern European rivers, where they could go all the way to Kama river or at least meet traveling Permians. Here's yet another Finnish source more on the Finno-Ugric people around Kama river.

Anyway, hela belt was made of leather and filled with small decorated lamellas, often in square shape, but various other shapes too, like animal ornamentation. In this period hela belt helas were bronze. First image is a nice full set of hela belt metal pieces found in Pirkanmaa (Finns). Second is an older example, right before Viking Era, from Vaasa, costal settlement, (Finns), depicting a very Permian style. The third one is a lion hela found separately in Pälkäne (Tavastians). They are also found in Tuukkala, showing that both eastern and western cultural influences were present there at the same time.

Another western Finnish belt type for men had intricate tassels decorated with bronze spirals hanging on the waist at the end of the belt. They could be made out of leather or tablet woven band. First image depicts a reconstruction of such tassel. Belts in east and west would have strap dividers to hang straps for things like purse, knife and sword. The first picture above has couple of those, but the second picture below has two more of them in more detail in the middle of the picture. These finds are from Lieto (Finns).

Cloak

Like women's cloak, men's cloak was woolen and either a square or trapezoid. Cloak is yet another east-west divide. In western Finland men's cloaks have embroidery with bronze spirals. They in fact appeared earlier in men's cloaks (in 900s) than in women's cloaks (1100s). They were also a little different in men's cloaks. The spirals and the patterns themselves were bigger and the fastening thread itself was also used for the pattern creation, unlike in women's dresses, where the thread was mostly covered. In eastern Finland there has been no finds of bronze decorations in men's cloaks, mostly only cloak brooches have been left of them. Unsurprisinly same applies to Karelia. This also means there's very little fabric left too. There's one exception. In Tuukkala (Savonians) they found a piece of fabric probably from men's cloak, though it could be from a men's dress too. It was striped, with possibly white or brown base and wide stripes of red, blue and yellow. So perhaps eastern Finnish cloak was not non-decorated, but the decoration was in the fabric pattern. Unfortunately it's hard to know how common fabric like that was, when so little of it is left.

Accessories

It's safe to assume men too wore some type of headwear, but none of those has survived. It probably means it was entirely made out of fabric whatever it was. Some type of hat or cap was certainly used in cold weather at the very least. Tablet woven headband was also possible option for not too cold weather.

In Tuukkala there was couple of interesting jewelry finds too. Two graves had a necklace type mostly found in Karelia. It was birchbark tape covered with nettle fabric and had square helas sewn into it. There were also more typical Finnish necklaces made of beads and bronze spirals.

Razors have also been found with men in their burials, so we can assume shaven faces or at least trimmed beards and moustaces were fashionable.

#also I do get it i also write essays in the tags and are too committed to then go back and make them into a proper reply jfgjkfg

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