#the paragraph break is in such a bad place here but i hated the wall of text this became and i wasn't sure where else to place it RIP

[marshmellowtea]

like don't get me wrong i am not immune to feelings of smug "oh i never liked them, i totally called that they were terrible", because frankly it's a very human thing to feel validated when someone you dislike is outed as sucking for what are perceived as more valid reasons. the problem with that line of thinking though, and the reason i try to tamp down on the urge to be smug about these things coming to light, is that it's frankly really fucking disrespectful to the people who did enjoy these creators, who admired and respected them, and more importantly, it's disrespectful as fuck to the victims of these people.

i feel like especially in cases of creators being revealed to be abusers it treads WAY too close to celebrating the fact that someone was abused--like, yeah, it feels good to be validated that you were right about someone's bad vibes, but when that involves someone being fucking hurt (especially when the someones in question are children) it just feels really fucking wrong to be happy about that. i just hate that this victim blamey attitude is so common in online spaces, especially ones that are otherwise claiming to be progressive.

[veronicaphoenix]

Laura, I'm a messsss 🫣🫠

“I don’t know how well you slept last night, but this hotel really has to work on soundproofing their walls,” We all saw this coming, didn't we? 🤭

“That was you! Oh you dirty, dirty kids,” he laughed. At first I thought he wouldn't mind, but then I read the rest of the paragraph and I felt bad for him :(

The whole alcohol issue going on with Noah is really keeping me on my toes. I even hated him a couple of times in previous chapters, but reading this one and seeing how he chose to be better felt like a wave of relief crashing over me, and it was definitely so welcome.

Oliver feeling left out had me crying for him! I wanted to hug him and keep him wrapped in my arms forever. Poor baby! I love how you portrayed his vulnerability at this time. And I'm glad he was brave enough to be honest with Aubrey and not keep it to himself, which led me to check this fic's masterpost, and I realized there're only 6 chapters left 😫

"I have so much love for both of you, in such different and such similar ways all at once." Aubrey is here making confessions as such and I hope they don't break her heart, because if they do I'll get my guns ready! (I don't have any real gun, but you know, the emoji gun, I meant lol)

"Tall men, indeed," 🤤

Oh, I feel Aubrey so much with her worries about the long-distance relationship. I was going to mention it in your comment on my epilogue, but I was in a two-year long-distance relationship, and that shit is indeed hard af and emotionally draining.

“So, it’s all about love, isn’t it,” I said, trying hard not to sniffle. “As long as you love them enough, you make it happen.” That's a yes from me, from experience 😇

“Sometimes you have to realise just how in love you are first. Or allow yourself to admit it.” Oli and Noah should have been there because that last sentence was definitely aimed to them.

Noah in the turtleneck, please! I used to hate turtlenecks until I saw him.

(Just dropping this picture here for no other purpose than drooling).

“I figured it should be one, you know,” Oli mused in fake contemplation. “Only seems fair to take you two out for dinner before I fuck you.” His bluntness will kill me. I was NOT ready for that statement.

I like that both our Noah's are so unexperienced in terms of being with another man 😇 cute

"though neither of us were thinking very much about eating right about now." Wrong, Aubrey. I'm pretty sure Oli is thinking about eating. Just not that dessert.

I also want to go to Oli's house. I volunteer! I've seen some picture before and the place actually looks very nice.

This man doesn't waste any time, does he?

Not both of them sucking and licking and getting Oli off 😮‍💨 The clashing of heads was so real and so honest of you to write because as I started reading that part that was all I could think of lol 🤭

They're so nasty with this impulses to clean each other's cum from each other's lips, i love it 🫣 Oh okay, Oliver just agreed with me in the next sentence haha

Okay, I'm leaving this link to this artist's work here (nsfw) because I've been following him for a while now, and the moment I read about Aubrey sitting on Oliver's face, this picture came to mind, and now nobody can't tell me it's not them (ok, the tattoos are not there and the hands were on his chest, but it's still them in my head 🫣)

“Aubrey, what the fuck are you doing,” Oli mumbled from underneath me, making me halt in my movements. “I just-” “It’s called sitting on someone’s face, not hovering.”

L, this entire scene was so real, every line, every description, their dialogues... I've been living in it since I read the chapter. Not in a perverted way, but as in admiration at how wonderful this scene was between the three, how they finally had this intimate time the three together and how they were learning to maneuver themselves in a trio.

“And you be a good girl too and prepare yourself for me, yeah? I’m going to fuck you when he’s finished and I’m not going to put any fingers in you first.” He's such a demon, i'm in love with him.

“Did you do it missionary, like an old couple?" Dude, never underestimate the power of missionary and eye contact and forehead to forehead fucking. 👆🏽 Aubrey will teach you about it at some point, I'm sure.

“Let’s see who can do it better, doll.” Oh no, not a competition! It's not a competition!

"I ended up making grabby hands at him like a little child as the sweat on my body slowly turned cold, leaving an entirely different type of goosebumps to wreak havoc on my skin. Noah saw, pulling the plush blanket up with him as he got into bed next to me, making sure to tuck both me and Oli in before hugging close to me." bUT BUT this whole thing is so cuteeeeee i'm sobbinggg

“So, who fucked you better, doll, me or Noah?” I hope this doesn't lead to some serious competition, unless it's just for fun 😏

“Guess you’ll both have to fuck me during the same evening for optimal comparisons.” During the same evening, at the same time, perhaps?

in love with the mess - day ten

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she’s decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and… well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), hints at anal play), angst, fluff

length : 10k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess@shilohrosechicken@justeli6@starvingarsyn@floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3@kageyasma@spikeisdaddy@broken0mens

a/n : Hope you enjoy this one!! Comments and reblogs keep the writer writing 💕

•••

day ten

I was getting tired of unexpected knocks on my hotel room door. Especially when it was much too early and I was already rushing to get ready after something had prevented me from properly packing my suitcase last night. Now I had mere minutes until I needed to be downstairs with the rest of the crew and the band because Bring Me had an awfully early bus call to get to Sheffield. I couldn’t blame them for that - it was home, after all. Most of them were using the day off to visit friends and family, but Oli and, as far as I knew Matt too, were heading for the store for the day.

I ripped the door open as much as I could under the weight to find none other than Oli himself standing in the hallway, an amused smirk on his face.

“I don’t know how well you slept last night, but this hotel really has to work on soundproofing their walls,” he chuckled, letting himself in just past the doorway as I stood frozen. “‘Cause I was definitely wide awake hearing two people have the fuck of their lives. Like, holy shit, staying quiet definitely wasn’t part of their vocabulary at all. Did you hear them at all?”

Keep reading

[m39]

Doom WADs’ Roulette (2006): Impossible: A New Reality

Br1: Impossible: A New Reality

Main author(s): JK

Release date: October 20th, 2006

Version played: ???

Required port compatibility: ZDoom

Levels: 1 (MAP01 replacement)

Remember M.C. Escher? You know, that guy who would draw geometrical mindfucks like the stairs that make you end up in the same place even though you keep going up or down? There is a reason why there is an award named after him in this installment of Cacowards.

Impossible: A New Reality is like Escher himself did a Doom map... That’s all I’m gonna say for now since I don’t know what to say in this paragraph anymore. So let’s just take a look at this map and see why it earned the award.

The plot is basically one wall of text so here is a summary:

You hate your boss, you bang his wife, you kill your boss, you bury him in an Indian burial ground (how original), then your ass is dragged to the map.

A New Reality looks rather good, I guess. I saw better-looking maps that were uploaded on the Internet before this one but this map still looks fine. I didn’t see anything severely bad looking.

The music track used for this map (a MIDI cover of Black Rose from Eternal Darkness) is really good to listen to. It might not sound like the typical Doom stuff, but it fits this map so well it doesn’t even matter.

This map is a mindfuck, I can tell you that. There are moments where you get stuck, but it’s a far cry from some of the moon-logic bullshit from the 90s.

As for how weird this map is, it has some mindfucking moments. Sure, by today's standards, it is just some of the locations looping themselves over and over (with silent teleporters that supposedly make it look more convincing but it looks kind of janky today) and the passages that supposedly lead to one place when instead lead to another (because the map is split into fragments that aren’t actually connected; and that’s why it doesn’t show its locations on the Automap), but it still looks kind of cool despite being kind of outdated.

Honestly, I feel like this map is weirder than Happy Time Circus. Even though that map has an insane motive of a demonic carnival, after around the first third of it, that map becomes stale and a chore to play through until the last area of it. Meanwhile, A New Reality might have a much weaker punch but it’s spread throughout the entirety of itself, constantly keeping your attention and making you think about what will happen next (at least partially in my opinion).

Asides from screwing with your perception and cohesive thinking, there is also a puzzle room where you have to press three switches out of sixteen to open a door in front of you. The solution to this puzzle is found in the area near the start but you have to follow the arrow on the floor to get there.

This map isn’t hard. Some of the stuff with monsters using invisible teleporters tend to be annoying among others but overall, I feel like it was rather easy almost all of the time.

It would be better if this map didn’t have stealth enemies in it. At least it’s just Imps this time.

There is only one new enemy added in A New Reality, called Mister Cyberdemon, who’s basically a siege cow that drops the yellow key after dying.

There are no game-breaking bugs on this map. The only bugs I noticed were one of the textures being unintentionally misaligned and one small part of the map in the yellow key area (which kind of feels like a maze in my eyes) being visible on the Automap. I don’t know if it’s an accident or was intentional but either way, it helped me escape from there.

Impossible: A New Reality might be slightly janky by today's standards but it is still a fun map to play. Check out if you are interested. And don’t forget to look at this video for more:

As for the next map on the bronze list... well... we will get to that in the near future.

I’ll see you later.

Bye.

[burnedbyshoto]

the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier. 

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears. 

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock. 

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

He was okay.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway. 

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser. 

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you. 

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information. 

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him. 

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you. 

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground. 

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor. 

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too. 

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice. 

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed. 

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours. 

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit. 

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat. 

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules. 

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard. 

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock. 

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you. 

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine. 

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag. 

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all. 

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss. 

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched. 

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality. 

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you. 

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms. 

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown. 

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room. 

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima. 

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him. 

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming. 

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want. 

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move. 

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance. 

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again. 

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin. 

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap. 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain. 

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good. 

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat. 

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers. 

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, blurb 2

The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 

A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))

Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)

--

The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 

Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 

“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 

I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 

His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 

I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 

It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 

Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 

“It might rain tonight.” 

He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”

I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 

“You distracted me on purpose.” 

“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 

How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 

Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 

His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 

Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 

My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 

“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 

I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 

“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 

My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”

“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”

Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 

“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”

“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 

“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 

Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”

“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 

“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”

“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 

From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 

“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 

I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 

“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 

He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 

“Too bad.” 

Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 

There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 

“A look?” 

Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 

Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”

The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 

He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”

I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 

“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 

On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 

Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 

“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 

I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 

“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 

“Like what?” 

Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 

Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”

We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 

The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 

“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 

A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 

“Your upbringing makes sense--” 

“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 

He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 

I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 

And then I keep reading. 

--

@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 

[aressss1]

Through Fire and Ice Chapter 12

(Technoblade x Reader)

Chapter 12

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A/N: Warning: Mentions of depression, suicide, and gore. Stay safe guys!

~~~~~~

You were in your home, legs propped up on the arm of the couch, nose buried deep in a book. You had put your small library to use for the last couple days. Techno still came over to see you, but you hadn’t seen Dream in a while. You wondered what he was up to. You found yourself skimming and ultimately forgetting what you had just read in your book by a few paragraphs. You sigh, today was just not your day for focusing on the things you wanted to focus on.

 You groaned, deciding on taking a walk through the burrow, to take your mind off of things. Depression was starting to set in. You couldn’t keep your mind off how long you had been down here. You hadn’t seen the sun in what felt like a very long time. Others were feeling the same way as you, hopeless… What was the point of… just surviving?

You took a nice long walk, trying to keep your head clear. Keeping your eyes down, because you kept getting weird looks from some of the people you had passed. You wished you could find Techno, but he was off mining Phil’s mine, you had no idea where to even find him, he could be off exploring another mineshaft, and you didn’t want to risk getting lost in one of those. You stopped at the edge of the beacon. Iron blocks underneath held it up, it seemed like such a waste of resources to you… Not that you knew anything about beacons.

 “You look confused.” You looked over to see Phil just feet away from you. “Anything that I can help with?” He walked over to you, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of you.

 “Why do we need this beacon?” You ask, your foot kicking at one of the iron blocks. Phil chuckled, his fingers tapping on the iron.

 “It increases productivity in mining.” Phil explained. “When we go to expand this cavern, we will be able to clear out more in a small amount of time, than normal. It’s what we used in the beginning.” Phil recalled the events from a little over a month ago. “It’s helping the new arena right now.”

 “Arena?” You questioned your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why do we need an arena?” Phil sighed at your question.

 “Something for people to do…” Phil had a distant look in his eyes. “People aren’t able to cope, we’ve lost a few people…” You bit your lip, not questioning it further. “Anyway…” He cleared his throat, changing the subject. “We have a meeting tonight; will you be there?”

 “Yeah, seeing as I wasn’t able to come to the last one.” You nodded giving him a smile. Your heart sinking for those who weren’t here anymore.

 “Good, I can���t wait to see you there. Techno will probably be back by then too.” You perked up at the mention of Techno. Phil’s eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face. “Techno’s almost done with the mine in general, and he mentioned that you like books…” He faced toward the beacon, the light highlighting his face.

 “Yeah?” You stood shoulder to shoulder with him, leaning your head back to look toward the ceiling where the beacon met the stone above.

 “Has he told you what exactly he’s digging for?” He pauses waiting for your answer. When you shake your head, he continues. “One of the biggest libraries I’ve ever seen. I have plans for when he breaks through. You can take your pick of the books you want, just as long as I don’t need them first.” He gave you a wink. Feeling your face light up, you gave him the biggest smile. He chuckled, putting a hand on your shoulder. You hated that you still flinched at his touch, but you were still working on it. “Hopefully that library will hold the key to getting the world back to normal.” He huffed, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, as he went into deep thought. You cocked your head at him.

 “You think that library is going to tell us how to fix all of this?” You motioned at everything in general, sounding a little skeptical. Biting the inside of your cheek, your eyes search his face. He seemed unsure… Maybe this was why he didn’t tell everyone in the Burrow? Maybe he didn’t want to give them false hope. Maybe…

 “I’ve got to try…” He had a faraway look in his eyes as he sighed. “I’m the reason we’re all down here in the first place.” He sounded extremely guilty. You were about to ask him what he meant when a voice called your name behind you, you didn’t have to look to know it was Dream.

 “What are you doing?” He sounded happy to see you. When he trotted up by your side your eyes land on him. He didn’t have his mask on… Nor a shirt, and he was drench in sweat. You had to stop yourself from looking over his sculpted body.

 “Hey Dream! I’m just taking a walk to clear my head. What are you doing?” You gave him a smile, as he ran his hand through his hair. His green eyes softened when he searched your face. He subconsciously stepped closer to you, which annoyed Phil to no end.

 Phil watched the interaction between the two of you, he didn’t dare say anything to ruin the moment. He wanted to know your thoughts about Dream, how you reacted to Dream himself. He was an observer, and that wouldn’t change. He couldn’t meddle in whatever this was between you, Dream and Techno.

 “Foolish has got me building for him on the arena.” Dream jerked his thumb behind him. He stepped forward, a worried look on his face, as he towered over you. “You needed to clear your head?” You could hear the concern in his voice. “Can I do anything to help?” He offered and you shook your head.

 “I just miss the sun, that’s all.” You waved your hand at him trying to signify that you were okay. He frowned down at you. He obviously didn’t like your answer. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, as he looked toward the ceiling in thought.

 “I know something that will cheer you up. Let me get my stuff.” You tried denying him, as you didn’t want to bother him with your problems, but he sprinted off before you could get one word out. You let out a sigh as your eyes trail after him, he disappeared into a crevice in the wall. Was that where the arena was? It made sense, as the hospital was right next door, the participants could be cared for in an instant.

 “Dream’s a good friend, isn’t he?” Phil asked his eyes trained on the crevice Dream disappeared into. He kept his tone light and friendly, but he just… couldn’t put his finger on it. He had a bad feeling, and he always knew to trust his gut.

 “Yeah,” you let a breath out you didn’t know you had been holding. “He’s the one who built my house for me. He’s shown me a lot of kindness.” You chuckle keeping a light conversation with Phil. By the time Dream had come back he had more clothes on this time, his mask over his face once more.

 “Ready princess?” He held out his hand, to you which you gingerly took, a smile spread across your face. Phil had to stop himself from physically cringing at his nickname for you. You said your goodbyes to Phil, who gave you a half wave, he never took his eyes off Dream. The look on Phil’s face was enough of a warning to Dream. Dream stood tall, not wavering under Phil’s gaze. “See ya later Phil.”

 Dream led you back to your own house, people watching you as the both of you walked by them. They still gave you weird looks and it was starting to get to the point of where you started glaring back at them. You were sick of the looks people gave you.

 “What’s with them?” Dream nudged your shoulder. You shook your head deciding not to make a big deal out of it. “You know you could just ask me to kick their ass for you.” He chuckled, smiling down at you.

 “They’re not worth it, I promise you.” A laugh escaped your lips, your body slightly leaning into his arm.

 “Well…” Dream hesitated, “they might not be worth it… But you are.” Your eyes met and you swore your heart skipped a beat. His voice was rough, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. He wrapped his arm around you pulling you to him. When the two of you were standing in front of your house, you could see him glance down at you. “So… Sapnap and I found something when we were building the house…”

 You looked up at him in curiosity. Your eyes scanning over what you could see of his face. He stepped forward kneeling at your porch, grabbing at a board. The board was loose, and he easily pulled it off, leaving a small hole that could fit the two of you inside.

 “I kept forgetting about this, but I wanted to show you as soon as I could.” His mask turned back toward you and you squatted down trying to get a good look of what was in the hole. Nothing but darkness, but you felt a cold breeze hit your face. So… that’s why your house was cold. “Come on.” He sat down on the stone as he slid himself into the small crawlspace. You followed suit, as Dream lit a torch, lighting the way down the tunnel.

 If you looked up, you could see through the cracks of the floorboards and into the house. That made you uncomfortable. Dream offered his hand to you, following your gaze.

 “I wanted to show you this to see if you wanted to convert this into a basement, but Schlatt hired me on the building crew for the arena, that’s why I’ve been busy.” Your eyes trace over his silhouette, the light illuminating his face as he turned to look at you.

 “I was wondering why my house was really cold.” You stood closer to him as the two of you went deeper. Eventually he ended up handing you, his coat. Your house was close to a natural cave. It was lit up by torches. Your voices bounced off the walls as the two of you talked. Your hands skimming over the cold stone on the walls. You found yourself getting tired, because there were a lot of uphill slopes and there were times you needed to catch your breath, Dream waited patiently for you.

 “We’re almost there, princess.” He reassured you as he patted your shoulder. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.” He pulled his mask off completely hanging it off his belt. It took a little while and before you knew it, the path widened into a bigger cave. You marveled at the sight before you. Dream spread his arms wide as he turned back to you, his smile causing flutters in your chest. “Well?”

 In front of you, was a frozen waterfall leading down into a shallow looking pool of water. Snow flurried in from the ceiling, where there was a massive hole to the surface. White light shone down over everything. Rough snow covered stone led to the top of the tall waterfall. You looked on in awe, as Dream took your hand pulling you to him.

 “I wanted this to be our special place.” His voice took on an almost sultry tone. “You can see the sun sometimes when you stand on that waterfall.” He pointed to the top of the waterfall as he crouched down as if to get your point of view, his cheek grazing against yours. His arm snaked around your waist pulling you even closer to him. Your face was red, you didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that, but you leaned into his touch, your stomach doing flip flops. “I hope it’s not too cloudy.”

 “Wow…” Was all you could muster, any and all other words got stuck in your throat. Feeling Dream’s laugh rumble in his chest made you look into his sparkling green eyes. Seeing the excitement in his eyes, allowed for a smile to spread on your cheeks.

 “I know it’s cold here, but when we want to be alone…” He trailed off, his eyes flicking down to your lips, as if they were mesmerizing. “We could come here and… Talk.” He cleared his throat, turning his face away to hide the blush dusting his cheeks.

 “I think I’d really like that…”  You giggled, subconsciously stepping closer to him. The two of you made your way to the scene before you, he held your hand as the two of you climbed up the rocks to the top of the waterfall. The water was frozen over and slick, and he held on tighter to you to keep you from falling. The two of you fought the icy wind that whipped around you.

 “Look.” Dream directed your attention to the hole in the ceiling once the two of you were in the right position. Sure enough, you could see the sun peeking out through the clouds. You let out a breath of air you hadn’t known you had been holding. “I know this isn’t what you meant… But I knew I could at least give you something.”

 “I love it, thank you Dream.” You bowed your head to him. “This has been amazing!” You peered down the frozen waterfall, the height of it, making you dizzy. The two of you stayed there at the top of that waterfall, until the two of you couldn’t bear the cold anymore. He was first to move toward the steep rocks that you both had come up from. You chose to take a look around before you made your way over to him. At your movement, even though you didn’t pick up on the sounds like Dream did… He heard a clacking sound emerge from a particularly dark corner. It was a ways away from the two of you.

 It all happened in a second, the yellowing rotting bones of a stray pushing itself up from a sitting position, tattered clothing, and other bits of dry rot dangling from those same bones, the sockets of the skeleton devoid of anything. The bones clacked together, being held together by magic. Phalanges pull back the string of the bow, the sound almost deafening to Dream. An arrow whizzes through the air, toward you grazing your shoulder, only because Dream pulled you out of the way. The action caused you to lose your footing. It was as if the scene played in slow motion.

 You fell backward on the ice, but… You didn’t hit the ground… You had gone over the waterfall. Your hands reached out for Dream, the look on his face was one of horror, he lunged forward grabbing your wrist, the action making you slam against the crag rocks and ice of the waterfall as you dangled. He was on his stomach trying to pull you up, and it would have been easier if the monster above him wasn’t shooting arrows into his back. He tried telling you, it was going to be okay, but with each arrow his grip on you lessened. His hand went slack, and you watched his eyes flutter closed, and you fell. Your eyes stayed on his face as you fell.

 The rocks below you did a number on your body, tiny scratches and cuts littered your body, you mostly slid down the rocks as you fell, you searched for anything to grab on to, but nothing could stop your descent onto the ice below. Your leg felt broken, and you were scared to move your body in fear of what else could be broken. The haze of what happened clouded your mind, and you let out a groan. Which… You really shouldn’t have done that. Because the monster that was still up there made its way down to you. It jumped from the top of the waterfall, without a care for its own health. Bones cracking in places as it impacted, It was just out for blood. It approached your form that lay in the middle of the ice. Its phalanges pulling back the string of the bow once more.

 The arrow whizzed by landing nearby in the ice. You reached in your inventory. Summoning forth your golden apple, you take a bite into it. It didn’t heal everything right away, but you felt… Powerful you rolled to the side just as another arrow landed where you previously were. The pain you felt still was immeasurable, but the apple allowed for your leg to heal, at least just enough.

 You scanned the area; you knew from stories Techno had told you that the effects of the apple wouldn’t last too long so you pushed yourself up. Your muscles sore, you grabbed a nearby rock, throwing it at its skull. It hit, the forehead split open as it recoiled from the rock and you took this as your chance to limp forward grabbing the bow out of its hands. Your body screaming at you to stop. One bite of that apple was enough to heal you to a certain extent. This was your only chance and you had to take it.

 You brought the bow down on its skull, and right before your eyes it cracked, it was done. It crumbled along with the magic that held it together, only a few of the bones survived.

 You fell to your knees, in front of the bones. Tears flowing forward, you felt faint, you needed rest even though your mind pushed for you to stay conscious get out of there, your body disagreed. It wouldn’t be until much later when you woke up again.

 ~~

Techno had no idea where you were. You were probably off hanging out with Niki. He hadn’t seen you all day. His tune quickly changed when he made his way to Niki’s place and he didn’t find you with her. When you weren’t around to do your route, panic started settling in his chest. Niki bit her lip, trying to not be worried herself. If Techno was worried, then she should be worried. That’s how she looked at it.

 “She’ll be okay,” She sounded like she was trying more to convince herself rather than Techno as she stirred the contents of the pot she was working on. Techno went ahead and did your route for you hoping he would see you in the process. He came back empty handed and Niki, gave him a worried look. “Should we wait to see if she’ll be at the meeting tonight?”

 “No,” Techno grunted, “I’m going to see if she’s at her house.” He pulled his cloak tighter around him.

 “I’ll come with you.” Niki couldn’t just sit there; the dirty dishes would still be there when she got back. The two of them set out to find you.

 ~~

 “Ugh…” Your eyes cracked open. You were freezing, feeling the pain of frostbite settle into your skin, your clothes stuck to the ice as you sat up. Your bones cracked and you looked up to the place where you had fallen. Dream was still up there. The golden apple you bit into laid a few feet away from you. You leg still hurt immensely, but you needed to get up there to Dream. You pulled yourself up to your feet, trying not to put too much weight on your leg.

 You pulled yourself up using the bow like a crutch to Dream, who lay there still. The arrows still lodged in his back. The blood caked over him. You had no idea what to do in this situation. Your cries of help were left unheard, as they echo through out the cave. Letting your fingers trace over his pulse, you feel the tears well up, he was still alive, riddled in arrows. Having no prior knowledge about how to dress a wound you felt helpless. People told you to keep arrows in, to lessen bleeding… But with everything that had happened you couldn’t remember if that were common knowledge or just something you had read in a story.  Your mind was too hazy. You opted to break the arrows, so they were shorter.

 You bit your lip grabbing at his arms, draping him against your back. Carrying him down, your weight still on the bow, you have no idea how you managed to get him to the entrance of the cave. Survival at the forefront of your mind, but… He was heavy, nothing but deadweight against you. You listened to his shallow breaths in your ear. You thought about force feeding the apple to him… But you were scared he would choke… You decided you would be better to feed it to him should he regain consciousness. You were truly clueless in all of this… You never needed to know any of this in your old life. Adrenaline alone seemed to be the only thing that kept you going forward.

 Adrenaline… Could only get you so far though… Your body ached, and before too long it had given up on you, and the two of you went tumbling down a particularly steep slope of the cave. Yeah… You weren’t going to get back up from this… Your eyes cracked open, and you were met with darkness… Pure and utter darkness… Being scared of the dark was one thing… Being scared of what lurked beyond it was another. You couldn’t afford another attack…

 You held your bow close to your chest, if anything came at you, at least you didn’t go out without trying to survive. You let out a shaky breath… Taking another breath you let out the loudest scream you could muster.

 “Someone! Anyone!” You were met with silence once more, and that’s when the tears started flowing forth. You were going to die down here… Well… At least you got to see the sun one last time.

 ~~

“What’s this?” Niki crouched down in front of the hole under your house.

 “The reason her house has been cold.” It clicked in his mind, as he started sliding himself into the hole. You had to be in there. Where else could you be if not the ominous hole. Good thing he always kept torches. He led Niki down the tunnel, she walked by his side when the tunnel opened up into a wider path.

 It didn’t take long to find you… Both he and Niki dropped to their knees at your side. While he checked your condition, Niki checked on Dream. You grabbed at his shirt the tears flowing from your eyes still. The sight killed him.

 “It’s okay Darlin’. I’m here.” He cooed in your ear.  “Can you move?” The words stuck in your throat, leaving only sobs to be heard, but you nodded. He cradled you in his arms as he waited for Niki to determine what to do next.

 “Techno…” Niki sounded alarmed at the loss of blood Dream had gone through. “We need to get them out of here.” Her eyes skimmed over your leg… It definitely hadn’t healed in the right position. “You’re going to have to carry him.” Niki winced knowing exactly what she was asking of Techno. Let’s just say Techno was less than thrilled. Niki knew she couldn’t lift Dream,

 “Do you need help with her?” Niki shook her head. This was going to be a painful walk for you, but at least you had Niki to lean on. He grabbed ahold of Dream throwing him over his shoulder, almost haphazardly. The scent of Dreams blood filling his senses. This was going to be a long walk back.

--

The voices swam through his mind as if they were sharks roaming the ocean, sniffing out the blood. Wanting more of it to be shed. He had barely gotten Dream in the front door, setting him on the couch, only to go back to help you into the house. You were in better shape than Dream, so Niki started working on Dream first. He sat on your bed looking down at your purple leg.

 “You used the golden apple, didn’t you?” He had done this himself, and the process to fix it was not a fun one. Memories of Phil having to rebreak his arm to heal it in the right position filled his mind. You nodded, your tears running dry. You were still unable to speak. “That’s the one downside to health items, bones don’t heal right if they’re not in the right position…” He wondered exactly what you had gone through in that tunnel. The voices itched at him to go see what lied at the end of the tunnel. “Darlin’, I’ll be right back. You need to rest as much as you can okay.” Your hand sought his out and he gave your hand a slight squeeze.

 “O-kay.” The word tumbled from your lips, and he let his eyes linger on yours for just a second before he stood.

 “I promise I will be back okay.” He waited for your nod, letting himself back down into the tunnel. What was Dream trying to pull here? He stopped at the spot he found the two of you. His eyes spying a bow. He remembered you had clutched to it before he found you… Maybe he should teach you how to use it. He should have taught you how to fight… Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation? He didn’t even know half the situation, but hell he was pissed, and that anger was directed at Dream for being careless.

He put the bow in his inventory, and he trudged on. When he got to the end of the tunnel, he knew why Dream had brought you here. He stood at the entrance, his eyes scanning the cave, as he shook his head. Coldness from the outside world seeped in. It didn’t take long to smell your blood as he approached the ice. His nose wrinkled, and the voices called for destruction.

 ‘Blow it up.’

‘Keep her safe.’

‘Burn it all.’

His eyes flooded black, at least he could agree with the voices on one thing… He had just the TNT to blow the place sky high in his ender chest.

 ~~

“The grand opening of the new arena is coming up!” Phil announced, spreading his arms wide. “With the opening of the arena, I’m also continuing the use of emeralds as currency,” Phil’s voice carried through the cavern. The meeting was underway, and he still hadn’t seen you or Techno, he figured the two of you just didn’t want to come, he was okay with that.

 “I’m also opening up a general store.” Schlatt’s voice cut in as he stood and he made his way to Phil, ultimately standing next to him. “A store that you can use your emeralds AND your Schlatt coins in.” Schlatt nailed his customer service voice, Phil could see people perk at the thought of a general store. Phil let him continue his explanation of the Schlatt coin, his eyes scanning over the people. What he was about to say next after Schlatt was done might not make them all happy, but it needed to happen.

 “Now that we have the announcement of the arena out of the way…” Phil started when Schlatt took his seat. Phil cleared his throat, averting his gaze from the ever-judging gaze of Schlatt. “I need to implement some mandates.” His hands locked behind his back. “We are still in need of food… So… I am asking that everyone have their own gardens. Niki can’t keep cooking for the majority anymore. So, everyone needs to pitch in on this food situation.” Grumbles of annoyance could be heard from the crowd.

 “Did you feel that earthquake just a few minutes ago?” An impatient woman asks bypassing the conversation. “What if we’re all crushed? Food is the last thing on my mind right now.” Phil bit his lip, he didn’t have all the answers and he never pretended he did, but now everyone was looking at him expectantly, as if he could fix an earthquake. He couldn’t lie to himself… He thought the same thing when he felt the rumble beneath his feet. But he felt nothing else since then.

 “I’ll be working on that with my top redstone engineer Sam. We will figure everything out.” Phil tried everything to sound professional, but people kept asking him questions. Questions that he couldn’t give them answers for, at least not yet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar pink head of long hair.

 “Phil.” A man stood from his seat, his eyes leveling with Phil. “When are you going to deal with the hybrid issue?” All eyes landed on the man, and then they switched to Phil, to gauge his reaction.

 “Hy…brid issue?” Phil looked around, while most of the villagers here were human, there were a small handful who were hybrids, Techno and Ranboo included.

 “Don’t act like you don’t know.” The man snarled. “Hybrids are a problem. They’re taking our women,” his eyes landed on Techno, “we don’t need a pig fucker in our midst. She should be banished too.” His eyes slid over to Ranboo, who had the dragon egg sitting in his lap. “Now they’re laying eggs, as if we need more mouths to feed, and more hybrids running around.”  Ranboo let out an offended ‘HEY!’ and Phil couldn’t stop the chaos that ensued. The hybrids against the humans… Phil couldn’t hear himself think with all the shouting. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

 “You’re all dismissed. Hybrid’s are staying, and you aren’t changing that, if you don’t like it, make your own colony.” Phil shouted into the crowd when it started calming down a bit. His eyes burned into the crowd. “I can’t deal with you people.” Shaking his head, he grabbed Techno by the shoulder heading back to their house.

 “Phil…” Techno got his oldest friends’ attention. The voices roared in his mind, calling for blood… For a massacre. After everything else that had gone on today… Techno tried keeping his urges at bay, using his friend as a distraction.

 “What is it Techno?” Phil couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice. He wasn’t mad at Techno, but at being thrust into this position. Had he not been the one to cause this storm, he would have taken Kristen and his boys and left.

 “…That earthquake…” Techno sighed, “It was me.” Phil gave him a puzzled look. “I found her…” Phil knew he was talking about you. “She was with Dream in this tunnel that led from under her house… He almost died. The smell of his blood… I hauled him into her house. But I almost lost control again…” He sucked in a breath, “I needed to get my rage out… So… When I made sure it was okay to go down that tunnel to see what was there, I… Blew it up. It’s nothing but rubble and ash now.”

 “So… That earthquake, was you blowing up whatever was on the other side of the tunnel.” Phil had to stop, seeing Techno nod. He couldn’t blame Techno, but… This was going to be hard to explain to a group of humans who don’t like hybrids. Phil sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

 “She has a broken leg that didn’t heal right… Niki has to rebreak her leg… So, we’re just lucky there’s enough health potion’s this time…” Techno could hide his emotions through his mask, but Philza knew him too well to know that even through his calm demeanor… Techno was devastated. “I blocked off that tunnel.”

 “Good,” Phil swallowed the lump in his throat down. Techno wished it was more of a walk to get to your house, the rage in his blood, had just barely simmered down. But it threatened to bubble back up at the sight of Dream. Dream was resting on the couch, his injuries healed up. Niki had just gone through the process of rebreaking your leg, and now you were force feeding yourself the rest of your golden apple, to help heal your leg in the right position.

 Techno hated every bit of this, but at least you were safe now, and that’s all that mattered. He awkwardly stood to the side, watching Niki poke and prod at your injuries. You were going to be sore for a bit, but at least you would be okay in a few more hours. He crossed his arms over his chest, remembering the man’s words against you… Calling you a pig fucker… He bit his lip and he kneeled by your side when you had fallen asleep. His eyes studying your features. He was here for you now, and he would be here for you always.

 His hand found your cheek, you were out like a light. Even now when you lay still, you were beautiful, making his heart flutter. He leaned down pressing his lips to your forehead, thanking the blood god that you were okay. He was going to have to have a talk with Dream, and it was not going to be a good one.

[stormcrawler75]

Bad Things Bingo request: Memory Loss with the Sides as a pantheon of gods.

Warnings: Memory Lost, description of scars, Virgil not having a good view of how he looks.

Notes: Dude, guys, I accidentally deleted the last few paragraphs and had to rewrite them. I finished this tonight out of spite.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil fucking hated snow.

There was no good thing about snow. Not one damn thing and Virgil was willing to stake his life on that claim. In fact, every good thing about Virgil’s life slowed to a stop when fall ended and the snow started to fall. Snow was cold, killed all of the crops that Virgil spent all year growing, and made travel into town a damn bitch. And, on top of everything else, it made the scars surrounding Virgil’s eyes and temples ache to no end. The only thing that helped with the aches and pains was the medicine that his friend Elliott sold. And where did Elliott sell the medicine?

All the way in town. So, yeah, Virgil hated snow.

He sighed as he climbed out of his bed, the cold from outside seeping into his bones. Virgil’s home was a small one-bedroom house with a small fireplace, a bed that he had pressed against two walls, small knickknacks and gifts placed on shelves that Virgil had built himself, and a small rug in front of the door to the outside. The fire that he had built the night before had gone out, with only glowing embers left in Virgil’s tiny fireplace now. The bowl with half of Virgil’s leftover dinner was left beside his bed, which Virgil immediately grab to slowly pick at.

Virgil glanced over at a small mirror on the wall that Elliott had given him, gently wiping at his eyes and trying his best to avoid his scars. There were deep and rough scars around Virgil’s eyes - as if someone had tried carving them out with a knife but never truly committed to the idea - and two identical thin, deep scars on each of his temples. Virgil’s nose was crooked like it had been broken many times before and one of his eyes didn’t open all the way. He wasn’t the prettiest man ever but, as Elliott had once said, he was just lucky to still be alive. Not that Virgil cared about the scars or how he looked. He honestly just wished that he remembered how he got the damn scars.

Or any part of his life before waking up in the town’s local Doctor’s office. He had woken up nearly five years ago with no memory. Elliott had found him on the outskirts of town, caught in a bright bronze net and left for dead, and had immediately brought him to the town’s Doctor. The town had been gracious enough to provide Virgil with a small house and some land to make a living off of. Virgil had been given far, far more than a poor, ugly man like him ever deserved and he had tried his best to pay the town back ever since. He gave deals to the town folks on his carrots and beets, he did odd jobs in the winter for half the price he charged for out of towners, and when the town announced that they would be making a temple for the God of Family and Safe Havens, Virgil went out and chopped down as many of his own trees that they would need.

Even if Virgil wasn’t sure what he thought about these Gods, he would give everything and anything to the people who had given him a home, their food, and the clothes off their back.

Though, it wasn’t like what he gave was anything special. Though the farmwork he did was hard and backbreaking, the corps flourished under Virgil’s hands. It wasn’t like he ever did anything special. He just did what every other farmer did. Maybe it was just that Virgil did what he loved. Waking up early and going out to work with his vegetables and his two little fruit trees were hard but Virgil loved it so much that anyone who happened to walk onto his land had a good chance of hearing him sing as he worked. As long as what he did made the town happy, Virgil was happy.

Virgil was startled from his thoughts from banging on his door, the excited voice of his best friend calling from outside, “Virgil! Virgil, wake up, wake up!” Virgil yawned shuffled over to the door, opening it with a tired smile. “Hey, Elli. What’s up?”

Elliott beamed at him and surged forward, grabbing Virgil’s arms and making him shiver from the snow and frost on their mittens. “It’s finished! The builders, you know the ones who said that they wouldn’t be able to finish until Spring? The mayor paid them double and they finished! The Temple is opening up tonight and they’re going to be putting out a feast!” They let go of Virgil, stumbling over to the spot on the floor where Virgil’s damp coat, mittens, and gloves had been dumped.

Virgil could only gawk at them, feeling like his brain was having trouble catching up to what Elliott was saying. “It’s finished?! How, when- I haven’t heard anything about the builders starting up again! When did this even happen?!”

“They worked through the night for the last month,” Elliott squealed, practically throwing Virgil’s winter wear at him. “And, dude, I can’t believe I’m even gonna be saying this,” Elliott took Virgil’s hands and said with forced calmness, “the God Patton himself might actually show up.”

Virgil swore that his heart stopped right then and there. Full on, dead stop. “A God?! What the hell are you talking about?! He’s coming here?!”

“It’s this new thing,” Elliott babbled, gesturing at the clothes in Virgil’s arms frantically until Virgil slowly started pulling them on. “It only started in the last few years and only in this country but, recently, whenever a Temple is built, whichever God the Temple is for shows up! They usually mingle for a bit and insist on looking around. I heard that even the God of Logic and all that other stuff showed up in a town a few days away about a month ago! He blessed the town’s teachers, looked around, and then left. People are thinking that the Gods are looking for something or something and that’s why they’re showing up everywhere!”

“Holy shit,” Virgil whispered, pulling his hat on hurriedly. “Holy shit, are you serious?! That’s fucking - we gotta check it out!” He grabbed his boots and practically jammed them on his feet. “We gotta get going now! If we head out now then we can make it to the town by lunchtime! Wait, no, we gotta get an offering! Do you have something to give him? I killed a deer yesterday and I still have its pelt so I’m covered but what about you!?”

Elliott grinned at him and flashed a bright pink ring on their left hand. “I’m good! My Grandma gave me this ring just in case something like this happened before she died years ago. Now come on! We can wait in my house until tonight but we gotta get going!”

Virgil laughed and grabbed Elliott’s hand, pulling them out of the small cabin. “You better have brought your horse and buggy because if I have to walk through all of this snow, I am going to lose it.”

“Of course I did,” Elliott laughed, climbing into the buggy. “And you know that that you could buy a horse of your own from old man Jerry. After you helped him and his wife with that problem they were having, they’d probably give you one for free!” They eyed Virgil’s rising blush with a grin. “And Miss Kitty would give you three buggies for how you helped her with her girlfriend. Heck, she’d give you a carriage!”

“It’s not my fault that I give good advice,” Virgil muttered, ducking his head and trying to get comfortable in his seat. “Besides, Miss Kitty and Jessica’s problem was easy. They just needed to talk, that’s all. I just pointed it out.” He batted Elliott’s arm when he saw them open their mouth to continue talking and - most definitely - continue talking about how Virgil kept getting when it came to giving advice about people’s love lives. “Shut up and get us to town, Elli!”

He ignored Elliott’s laugh and settled back as the horse started making its way back to town. Elliott was just overexaggerating. It wasn’t like Virgil went out looking for people who needed help with their love lives. Just... whenever Virgil was talking to people, the topic of love happened to come up a lot and people always seemed to ask for his advice. Virgil honestly had no idea if the advice he was giving was good, per se. It was just that Virgil seemed to know what he was talking about. People theorized that Virgil had been a Matchmaker before he had come to live here. Virgil wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Besides, it wasn’t just romantic things that people came to Virgil to ask advice on. Virgil had helped with the two orphan boys that had come from the city, the year-long fight that two local sisters were having, and a fight between two best friends. It seemed that Virgil was just good with advice. It wasn’t like it was anything special.

“So, all of the Gods have been showing up lately,” Virgil asked Elliott as the buggy went down the dirt road.

Elliott nodded but then paused. “Well, almost all of them. One of them hasn’t shown up recently. The God of Love and Beauty hasn’t appeared in almost five years now.” They shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, I heard that he was super active before so he’s probably just taking a break. I heard that time passes really quickly for the Gods. I’m sure that he’ll be back sometime soon.

“I mean, what’s the other option? I mean, what kind of bad things can happen to a God?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Temple was beautiful.

Virgil knew that it was nothing compared to the Temples in cities or the Capital. He had heard rumours of those Temples being made from solid gold, with sparkling rubies and sapphires embedded in its walls, and rich offerings given by Kings and Queens stacked through the halls. Compared to those Temples, this little one was nothing. It was barely as big as the local schoolhouse with one room. From looking through the front window, Virgil thought that it looked more like a very cozy and comfortable family room than anything. There was a beautiful fireplace roaring with fire, beds pushed up against the walls, and food stacked on the table. Virgil’s offering of a deer’s pelt was lying on a table along with several others.

“I can’t believe that this is the new Temple,” Virgil whispered to Elliott, both of their eyes wide with wonder. The two of them were at the front of a large crowd in front of the Temple, waiting for entrance. This whole thing was so exciting that Virgil was barely aware of the dull sting from the wind hitting his scars. “I mean, it’s great but it’s... not what I thought it’d look like.” While it might not be what they were expecting, it was still the most wonderful place that either of them had ever seen.

Elliott grinned at him, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Me neither but this is the God of Family and Safe Havens. I bet that this Temple would look a lot different if this was a Temple for the God of Beauty and Love or for the God of Self Preservation. I hear that the God Patton lets people use his Temples as Safe Havens, just like the God Janus.” They gasped when a soft, warm blue light glowed from the inside of the house, bathing everything inside with its light. “Oh my gosh,” they whispered, gripping Virgil’s arm tightly. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this, I can’t believe this! He’s actually coming, he’s actually showing up!”

The crowd of people immediately quieted and no one made a single sound. Virgil could’ve dropped a pin and it would’ve been the loudest sound in the entire town. Slowly, the light coming from the Temple died down. Though, and maybe this was just Virgil seeing things, the inside of the Temple seemed warmer somehow. It seemed homier. And the large man standing in the, just minutes before empty, Temple seemed completely right there.

Virgil watched through the front window with wide eyes as the man slowly looked around. He was huge, almost six feet, with curly blond hair and big round glasses that were perched on top of a small bottom nose, covering big blue eyes. There were freckles on each and every inch of the man’s skin and there were laugh lines around his eyes. He was wearing comfortable clothes and had the air of a person that you could trust. The kind of person that you would run to if you had a problem or no one else you could turn to. He looked... like a Dad.

He looked familiar.

The God slowly walked through the Temple with a small smile, gently touching the walls and taking a minute to look at the food. Virgil watched him kneel by the fireplace and gently stroke it for a few seconds, glowing embers jumping from the fire and onto the God’s skin only for the God to brush them from his skin with no sign of injury. And Virgil watched as, slowly, the God stood and made his way to the door leading outside to the crowd waiting outside.

Virgil hurried to kneel with the rest of the town, breath catching at the God stepped outside. Most, including Elliott, had their heads bowed respectfully but Virgil could only gawk dumbly as the God looked out at them with a smile. For almost a second there, it looked like he was looking for something and he had to hold back his disappointment when he didn’t find it. But he kept a smile firmly on his face as he went back to looking through the crowd. He had just opened his mouth to say something when his gaze landed on Virgil’s ugly scarred face. Virgil felt a pit of terror settle into him as the God’s face went from gratitude and forced happiness to an expression that Virgil didn’t have the time to fully understand at before the God was almost running at him.

“Vergilius!”

The crowd scrambled away from Virgil, Elliott being pulled from him from someone, and Virgil felt frozen as the God landed in front of him. Distantly, in the back of Virgil’s mind, he remembered a mean rumour that had circulated when Virgil had first been found. That Virgil had somehow offended a God and, in punishment, the Gods had scarred him and stolen his memory. Virgil had never believed these rumours but now, Virgil thought that it might be true. And if they had stolen Virgil’s memory the first time, Virgil found that he was utterly terrified to discover what they might take this time.

Virgil jumped as large, calloused but gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up so he was staring right in the watery eyes of the God of Family and Safe Havens. The God’s glasses were slightly crooked and had slid down right down to the edge of his nose. Tears were making their way down his cheeks and the God’s lips were turned up in a bright, slight disbelieving but so relieved grin. The God was rubbing a thumb into Virgil’s cheek gently while the other was hovering frantically around Virgil like it didn’t know where exactly it should settle. “Oh, Vergilius,” the God whispered, voice cracking. “Oh, you’re here. You’re safe.”

“Vergilius?”

“As in the God Vergilius?!”

“The God of Love and Beauty!?”

“Virgil, our Virgil?”

“What is a God doing living in a cabin on the edge of a poor little town?”

“I,” Virgil licked his suddenly dry lips, staring at the God in confusion and a bit of fear, “my name is Virgil. I’m sorry but, I think I you got the wrong person. I’m, I’m not,” his words trailed away from him, not sure what to say. He found himself leaning into the God’s hand and had to jerk away. Had to jerk away from the feeling of ‘finally-I’m-finally-home-I-was-so-scared-but-I’m-home-and-I-was-so-scared-but-I-knew-that-you’d-find-me’.

The God laughed, but it sounded more confused than anything. “Kiddo, Vergilius, what are you talking about? Oh, Sweetheart, what happened?” Virgil’s breath caught as one of the God’s huge fingers gently brushed against one of the scars surrounding his eyes. “Who did this to you,” the God asked, his voice darkening and full of power. He looked up and he seemed like a God for the first time since he had arrived as he demanded, “Did these Mortals do this to you?!”

Almost a full year ago, Elliott had told Virgil that there was a reason that Patton was the God of both Families and Safe Havens. Because no one would dare step into one of the God’s Safe Havens and try to hurt someone who had hidden there. Because those who stayed there were the God’s family and no one would risk Patton’s wrath. Virgil hadn’t been completely convinced if Elliott wasn’t exaggerating back then, of the God’s terrible wrath on those who had hurt those who he had deemed family.

But now, as the ground started to shake and the sun started to burn impossibly bright, Virgil knew that Elliott had been under-exaggerating.

“Wait,” Virgil cried, lurching forward and grabbing Patton’s arm desperately just as the God had started to rise. “Please, don’t hurt them! They saved me, they didn’t hurt me,” he pleaded. “Please, please don’t hurt them, please.”

The God stared down at Virgil, one hand still cupping his cheek. “You’re sure,” he asked softly, the shaking ground slowly calming and the sun’s harsh beams dimming slightly. “Are you sure, Sweetheart? They’ve helped you?”

“They found me in a bronze net,” Virgil babbled, keeping a tight grip on Patton’s arm like he could single-handedly stop the God if he tried anything. “Elliott did. They found me without my memories and brought me to a Doctor and healed me. They gave me a house and land and fruit trees and seeds and they never hurt me, I promise, I swear!” His chest was burning with the love he had for this small town and the people in it and he was honestly afraid that his chest would burst from just how much of it there was.

There was a long pause before the God slowly pulled Virgil up until he was standing, paying attention only to Virgil and giving none of it to the townfolks watching with bated breath. Both of Patton’s hands cupped Virgil’s cheeks and he asked softly, voice almost unhearable, “Do you know who I am, Kiddo? Do you remember me?”

Virgil blinked and the tears that had been building during his frantic plea starting slowly trickling down his face. “You’re Patton,” he whispered softly, “the God of Families and Safe Havens. The Creator of Janus, the God of Self Preservation and, and a lot of other things. The Father of the Council of Gods.” He let out a shaky breath as the God bowed his head, letting his forehead rest on Virgil’s. “Am... am I wrong?”

The God let out a shaky, pained laugh. “No, Kiddo. No, you’re not wrong.” He looked up at the pale, terrified Mayor and gave him a wobbly smile “Thank you for the Temple. It’s beautiful. I love it.” He turned back to Virgil and gently petted his hair. “I need you to come with me, okay Darling? I know this is all probably very scary and overwhelming for you but I need you to be brave, okay?”

“You... you won’t hurt them,” Virgil asked shakily, looking over his shoulder at the townsfolk. Even though they looked terrified, many of them managed to give Virgil weak and encouraging smiles. One of them, an older lady named Miss Julia, looked like the only reason she wasn’t beating Patton away with her cane was her partner, Hannah, gripping onto her arm tightly. “Right? They protected me. You promise you won’t hurt them?”

The God smiled at him gently, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. “I promise, Sweetheart.” And, with that, Virgil was pulled into a gentle hug and his face was gently pushed into the God’s shoulder so he couldn’t see what was happening. Virgil was about to pull away, terrified that he’d look back to see that his town had been wiped off the map, but he found himself falling limp into the God’s arm when a warm, safe feeling flooded into him and the ground was whisked out from under him. The harsh winter wind disappeared and, for one brief moment, there was only Virgil and the God.

And then, Virgil stumbled as a floor reappeared under his feet. Even without looking, Virgil knew that it was the most expensive floor that he could remember standing on. It was smooth and felt like it had been freshly waxed. He pulled back away from Patton and looked around, eyes widening. Now, this was a Temple.

They were in a large room that wouldn’t look out of place as a King’s throne room. Nine empty thrones were placed around the room, all of them looking completely different from each other. And, for some reason, Virgil felt drawn toward the smallest, almost dainty looking one on the far left side of the room. Like it was meant to be his.

“Does this room seem similar to you at all,” the God asked gently, keeping one hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He seemed to deflate a little when Virgil shook his head. “Okay, that's okay, Kiddo. Now, I want you to wait here, okay Hon? I’m going to get our friends and we can talk this whole thing out.” He leaned forward and gave Virgil a gentle kiss on his forehead before leaving the throne room and leaving Virgil alone.

Virgil swallowed and looked around slowly, trying his best to get his bearings. The room was gorgeous but his eyes kept getting drawn to the small, purple and black throne. It was deceptively dainty looking almost like the throne of a Queen that Virgil had seen once in a book Elliott had given him. But, even from halfway across the room, Virgil could see that the metal was sharp and there were two small, detachable knives on the arms of the throne that would’ve been perfect if the person sitting there suddenly needed something to throw. And there was a power simply radiating from the throne, like if the wrong person sat in it then they’d simply cease to exist.

It was beautiful.

There was a sudden flurry of noise and Virgil spun around, tensing up defensively. The noise was coming from a doorway and Virgil could hear one voice rising above all the others, “You can’t be serious, Patton! He’s been in a dirt poor farm town this entire time?!” There was the soft of Patton answering back, though Virgil couldn’t make out exactly what he said, and the same voice from before snapped back, “No way! Vergilius wouldn’t stay away from us, we’re his family! Whoever you brought back is an imposter, it has to be!”

Virgil stepped forward nervously, walking up to the doorway and standing right beside it but still not be seen. A new voice jumped in, low and suave. “We don’t know that, Roman. We should meet him, just in case it really is Vergilius!”

“But what if this is some evil monster who tries to put us under his spell?!”

“Roman - hes’s not a monster!”

Virgil jumped at a new voice snapped out, “Enough!” Roman, Remus, Emile, Remy, you four stay here. Myself, Patton, and Janus will meet with... whoever Patton has brought here.”

“It’s Vergilius,” Patton cried, sounding close to tears. “Logan, I promise-”

“I know, Patton, I know. We’re just going to check that this is Vergilius for certain, okay Sweetling? And if this truly is Vergilius, we’ll want to make sure that he’s okay first before bombarding him all at once. This is just to be safe.”

“And if this is an imposter, then me and Roman will stab him to death and push him into a vat of boiling poison!”

“For once, I agree with my brother.”

Virgil felt a cold stab of fear before it was overwhelmed with the feeling of hot, harsh anger. He was basically dragged here, taken from his home because apparently, some God thought that he was the God of Love and Beauty - fucking ridiculous - and now some other God decided that if he didn’t look enough like this missing God than they were going to be taking Virgil’s life as punishment. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Before Virgil even knew what he was doing, he was already halfway through the door and spitting out, “Well I fucking don’t!”

The hallway was filled with eight people, all who turned at the sound of Virgil’s voice, but Virgil turned all of his attention to the one with a sword drawn and glaring daggers at Virgil. He didn’t half to be a genius to know that this was the guy who had called him an imposter and jumped right on board with the ‘Killing Virgil’ plan. Virgil decided that he didn’t like this guy.

The guy - he had to be God - puffed up and stalked up to Virgil, baring his teeth at him. “How dare you wear the face of my friend, you imposter!”

“I’m not a fucking imposter and I’m not your fucking friend,” Virgil snapped, planting his feet and glaring up at him. The God glared right back at him with bright red eyes, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning bright white. “So don’t go yelling at me!” He pushed at the God’s sword arm so hard that the God nearly dropped his weapon.

There was a moment of tense silence before one of the others cleared their voice, stepped forward with a raised finger and said, “Just so you all know, I’m on Pattycake’s side. That is definitely Vergilius.” They stepped back with a smirk as the God with the sword turned his glare at him. “Hey, just saying, Roman.”

The God - Roman - huffed and turned his snarl back to Virgil. “I don’t care what you say, Remy. I know Verglius and he wouldn’t hide out in some random town while we’re all looking for him!”

“My name isn’t Vergilius,” Virgil snapped, feeling the urge to stop his foot. “It’s Virgil! I don’t know any of you guys and my name is Virgil!”

Roman spread his arm and nodded firmly. “See!? Even the Mortal agrees! This was just a mistake.” He sheathed his sword and offered Virgil his arm with a sharp smile. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll escort you back to your home and we can go back to looking for the real Vergilius.”

“Wait,” Patton cried, stepping forward and shoving himself between Virgil and Roman. “Roman, I know that this is Vergilius, I just know it! He told me that he had no memories, he told me this! Logan,” he turned to a short man who was staring at Virgil with dark narrowed eyes, “Logan, you believe me, don’t you?”

“...He does bear an uncanny resemblance to Vergilius,” Logan hummed, stroking his chin with thin, boney fingers. “And if he did indeed lose his memories than that would explain why Vergilius never sent word and how he gained those scars. Though, we have had many imposters in the last five years that you were also sure was Vergilius, Patton,” he continued gently.

“It’s Virgil,” Virgil said sharply, straightening up and glaring at the God.

Logan sighed in frustration and opened his mouth but was cut off by that same suave voice from before. “Well, then, there really is a simple way of solving this, isn’t there?” Virgil turned to look at who was talking and froze.

Staring back at him was a man with sharp golden eyes and bright green scales going down the left half of his face, staring down at Virgil with an unreadable expression. He tilted his head and said smoothly with a shrug, “Make him sit in Vergilius’ chair.”

One of the Gods who hadn’t spoken yet - a God who looked very similar to Patton but with bright pink and blue eyes, long brown hair instead of blond, and an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place on a scholar - stepped forward with a frown. “But, Janus, that’s not fair to the Mortal! Patton brought him here, he didn’t come here claiming to be Vergilius! If it turns out that he isn’t Vergilius then the power will overwhelm him and -”

“Wait,” Virgil cried, throwing his hands up in the air. He tilted his chin up and glared at the intimidating God, Janus. “Sitting in that chair will prove whether or not I’m this Vergilius?” Janus had barely nodded before Virgil was turning back to the throne room to sit in the stupid damn chair so he could go back to his farm and sleep until fucking spring.

But Janus’ hand snapped out and grabbed Virgil’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “As a favour to Emile here,” he said, nodding at the God with pink and blue eyes, “I will warn you to what the chair will do if you’re not Vergilius.” His lips quirked up. “Unless you’d like to just charge in and sit in it without knowing.”

Virgil wanted to scream, he really did. He could be told what would happen if he wasn’t Vergilius - which judging from what Emile had been saying was probably nothing good - and lose his nerve. Which might just prove to these Gods that he was an imposter and Virgil would be in for a world of pain. Or he would just go in to sit on the throne and damn the consequences.

Virgil blamed the decision he made next on how angry he currently was. There was no way for any anxiety or common sense to peek out and make Virgil nervous enough to take a second and really think about what he was about to do. Before he could fully think about what he was doing, Virgil ripped his wrist away from the smirking God and turned back to the Throne Room, stomping across the hall and ignoring the calls of Patton and Emile to wait and let them explain first before trying it.

Instead, he hoisted himself upon the Throne and sat back, closing his eyes.

It was the most comfortable chair ever. It was like someone had studied Virgil’s body and had shaped the Throne around him. The pillow on the throne felt like it was stuffed full of duck feathers and was made out of velvet. Velvet. Virgil had never even seen velvet before. It was the most comfortable Throne in the history of Thrones. Virgil didn’t know how he knew that and he wasn’t going to think on too closely.

“Okay, so, I sat in the stupid chair,” Virgil groaned as he leant forward. As sad as he was to get out of the Throne, he really wanted to go home and check-in with the rest of the townsfolk. “Can I go home now?” He froze though when he opened his eyes and saw all eight Gods standing around him and watching him with various expressions on their faces.

“I knew it,” Patton whispered a large grin on his face and tears gathering in his eyes. “I knew it.”

Roman was staring at Virgil in numb shock, tears running down his cheek. “Oh... you’re really him,” he whispered. His hand twitched like he wanted to pull Virgil into a hug but he couldn’t commit to the action. “Vergilius.”

Virgil twitched backward, leaning back into the throne. “No, I told you. My name’s Virgil. I’m not -”

“You are,” Janus said, stepping forward. He was smiling at Virgil with tears in his eyes, looking so happy and relieved. “That throne was made specifically for Vergilius and your atoms would’ve melted if you weren’t truly Vergilius. Even if you don’t remember your life as Vergilius or don’t remember us, you are our Vergilius.” His smile grew into a large grin. “Oh, Dear One, I’m so happy that you’re safe.”

Virgil blinked dumbly, feeling like everything he knew had just been turned upside down and nothing made sense anymore. He didn’t want to believe it. He just wanted to go back home, visit with Elliott, and then sleep in his own bed. He didn’t want to believe it.

But he did.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, tears of confusion pricking at his eyes. “If I... if I really am Vergilius... then what happened? How did... where... What happened?”

Janus pulled Virgil into a tight hug, holding him so tightly like he was terrified that if he let go than Virgil would disappear. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t. But we’re going to find out. And until we do, we’re never going to let something like this happen again. I promise.”

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[wychive]

𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨

summary // you found your pile of ‘letters’ to hyunjin that contain thoughts that have never been said and decided to write to him one last time.

pairing(s) // hyunjin x gn!reader, hyunjin x oc, slight minho x reader

genre(s) // angst, letter fic 

warning(s) // mentions of food, themes of being forgotten, vulgar wording, humiliation, overthinking

word count // 2.0k

author's note // happy birthday @noya-sannnn​ !! im sorry this was so late hhh you know how i am irl,, but i hope you enjoy this! i love you so much, jane <3 i apologize for the many grammar mistakes gn. i recommend listening to iu’s ending scene while reading this! btw y/n/n means your nickname.

[10/01/14, 3:55am]

dear jinnie,

hi there! it's y/n <3 i hope you're doing okay - i mean of course you are pfft anyways, just writing this short letter (more like paragraph)  sort of as a venting mechanism? for things i cant tell you about lol  im not so sure how you would call it, since you're so much better at words than i am. basically were like:

hyunjin: ow a brain freeze!

me: haha brain go brrrr

anyways haha yea <3 it's 4am so like,, ill see you at school!

signed,

your loser,

y/n/n

[15/02/14, 12:34am]

yo heartthrob!

im back with this kinda stuff haha it's been a whole? week? since ive written one of these so like yes..hi! i just wanted to say thanks, for today. you really know how to cheer me up huh? you really outdid yourself by setting up that little picnic for us. congrats on making the strawberry cake so perfectly <3 this day will always stay as a core memory in the back of my brain. you're too caring sometimes,,, istg you'll pay for this [maybe hugs?] >:) 

signed,

your partner in crime,

y/n/n

[30/02/15, 01:29am]

jinnie-senpai~~

LMAO you hate me calling you that, doesn't change a thing though. hehe,, nways i hope you enjoyed your birthday present :) i got you that really cool skateboard that you wanted. i worked my ass off for that in my mother's garden so like,, you gotta thank me for that a thousand times :D nah jk, its a sincere gift, from me to you. i rarely do this for ANYONE so consider yourself lucky to have a best friend like me -3- also, seungmin is like….kinda the cutest person ever. introduce me to him pls, thank!

signed,

<your bestest friend3,

y/n

(p.s. you're kinda cute too,,,, ig,,, still stinkee tho)

[13/04/15, 9:04pm]

hey 'baby' (HAHAHA ihy for this)

i hope your day was okay! i didn't see much of you today (which was sort of a bummer but wtv) so like…. uh yea. you told me you were doing okay over text, which kinda surprised me because like?? we always video call lol this is kinda the first time,, but its okay, i trust you! (i really hope youre doing alright tho, i'll beat anyone up if they make you sad >:( ) you also called me 'sweetheart' today which was like…. omg wtf haha????????? that was so weird to me for some reason… a good kind of weird :D we haven't done those kinds of nicknames in a while so…. happy to know that they're back in session <3 i talked to the new girl today, she's really cool! like she knows the bean song on tiktok so like its a total win heh, ill introduce you to her tomorrow! you'll love her a lot

signed,

your 'lover',

y/n/n

[08/06/16, 10:23pm]

hey howl (hehe go back to that movie night we had)

this spring break sucks so much,, esp because youre not here (you still couldve brought me along :'[ ) but wtv i hope youre enjoying yourself. ive been hanging out with yeonnie lately and i found out she likes conan grey too like pls i love her sm. can we adopt her?? please???? she told me you guys have been video calling too and that makes me so happy!! you two are getting along so well aaa my precious babies </3 

what if you developed a crush on her? haha…..jk unless?? (no jk dont shes all mine, stay away >:) ) anyways, i hope the three of us hang out soon. maybe go to that ice cream parlour where they serve the best cookies and cream?  

signed,

your daisy,

y/n/n

[19/07/15, 01:23am]

peepee poopoo hello

heyheyhey!! (heh, haikyuu thingz) i hope youre doing okay! i mean sure you are, with everything going so well. also i feel like you're not telling me something. maybe it's just me? is it? i hope it is because you tell me everything,, we've been talking less these days but its okay! i know how busy you are, especially with your dad always bugging you,,

also, i think yeonbin likes you :0,, she keeps talking about you whenever we hang out. don't get me wrong, its not bad that she likes you but...something doesn't feel right. i feel like i'm being the third wheeler here and like ugh idk. haha laughs yea i think its just me.. im sorry, i didnt mean to do you like this,, anyways, ill see you soon + her too ofc- yall are inseparable lmao

signed,

your moonlight,

y/n/n

[23/07/15, 01:56am]

greetings, kind sir

lol more like mean sir but like aight KSKSK,, anyways,, how have you been? we haven't really talked in a while,, our convos are always so short with it being one-sided :/ i wish you were online more. yeonnie is ignoring me,, do you know why? i think you do,,, but when i asked you just said you didnt know. did i do something wrong? pls tell me.. 

she blocked my contact the other day and she won't even smile at me when i pass her in the hallways. its,, sad and stressful especially because she was the only one that would genuinely talk to me. i hate to say this,, but i miss you. us, hanging out like the best trio we are, yknow? but i dont think you miss me the same way. sorry, im getting out of hand. i know im just overreacting. im just gonna sleep ig,, good night! sweet dreams,,

signed,

your pink lemonade,

y/n/n

[25/07/15, 03:25am]

hi there

i heard you and her got together?? congrats, jinnie! im so proud of you,, especially because you never had even considered getting a girlfriend a few months earlier lmaO you really woo the ladies huh? anyways,, i hope you've been well since we last talked,, how many days has it been?? i would say nearly a week or so but honestly it feels like a hundred years,, considering you and i used to talk every day. but you have her now to keep you company.

keep this a secret but can you possibly tell me why it hurts when i see her? or when i mention her or even think of her?? is it because she's connected to you? but.. you're my best friend, so why? is it because i miss you? is it because im alone now? is it because you left me with a simple 'i have to go now,, bye y/n/n.'? im not sure either. im being silly, i apologize. ill figure it out sooner or later. sweet dreams, jinnie

signed,

your asswipe,

y/n

[25/07/15, 04:30am]

jinnie

it's because i love you. 

signed,

your butterfly,

y/n

[??/08/??, 05:??am]

you

i miss your lame jokes. i miss your smile. i miss your laughs. i miss your funny faces. i miss the way your eyes twinkle. i miss th way you would make me happy just by doing the bare minimum. i miss the disaster you made when cooking breakfast. i miss the night when you snuck me out just to go to that pretty lantern event. i miss when you would call out my name everytime we met. i miss when we would share earbuds in train rides. dont you get it, hyunjin? i miss you.

[??/??/15, ??:??am]

asshole.

please tell me that isn't true, please. you're too kind to do these kinds of things, right? + i was your best friend,, then, why, why did you hurt me like this. i didnt do anything wrong.. you couldve just told me you didnt like me,,, why did she have to tell me? out of all people. 

youre so pathetic for this,, i thought you were brave, bold - but youre just a fucking coward. i loved you, i really did. and i realised too late… im sorry. she,, i shouldn't have talked to her in the first place, right? i bet you knew she humiliated me, in front of everyone. of course you did, you were the only one that knew. you told her. fuck, i hate you so much (yet why do i long for you on a night like this?). you know how much that'll affect me and yet, there you are, laughing about it with her.

signed,

fuck off,

you know who i am.

[31/08/15, 03:41am]

ah, jinnie

please tell me this is just a nightmare. please, please. stop just reading my texts, please answer them. jinnie. i miss you so much. i dont care bout her, please just let me be in your arms. i dont care if you love me back, please just talk to me at least. tell me what i did wrong,, jinnie,, please,,, clear these tear stains on my cheek with kisses.

signed,

your fuck-up,

y/n

[15/09/15, 04:59am]

jinnie

why do i keep crying because of you? its been a few weeks since everything has happened. please, nothing has changed. i still love you the same even with all the hatred i have pent up in this stupid brain of mine. i wish i could just walk back in time, to where it all began.

when i first met you in third grade and you pushed me while playing soccer or maybe when we took those ridiculous prom pictures, remember those? i hope you still have them,, because i do too. i hope the pictures of us on your wall still hang there,, it'll remind you of the happy times. hm,, maybe you don't need them. 

you already have millions of pictures with you and her,, i bet you printed some and replaced those with ours right? sly dog. 

signed,

friend,

y/n/n

[04/02/16, 12:57am]

hey

i went to the park today and saw both of you being happy. it's nice to see your smile again. im sorry i didnt go up to you,, i just thought it would be awkward. when i heard that adorable laugh of yours, it made me realise that i lost something special. but it's okay isnt it? as your happiness matters more than mine. 

signed,

y/n

[06/01/20, 08:00pm]

dear hyunjin,

im doing fine here. how about you? gosh,, how long has it been? years? since we last talked to each other. i havent heard from you since. i would just like to say i still think of you sometimes, when watering the plants or dancing while making pancakes. sometimes i think you're here with me too, just being the pals we were. 

sometimes i'd see you out, just reading a book in the park or buying pasta sauce at the grocery store. it's nice to see you having a stable life. im not sure if you're still with her or not, but its good to know that you still have that large friend group. also! you're never gonna guess who im dating--

it's minho! do you remember him? the one that i used to hate,, uh yeah. he asked me out the other day- you may wonder how tf,,, i too do not know how tf but he gives the best hugs ever. he gave me the love i wanted from you. he stitched my heart back together after it broke,, i love him so much, jinnie..

it's snowing,, do you remember when we would skate on the frozen lake in front of your house? are your parents well? i wonder if your mother still has those earrings i bought for her birthday. i never told you this but your laugh and hers sound so similar. 

i would just like to say thank you, for everything. you were a big part of my life, up until now. when we see each other after this, we would just be strangers. maybe flash a little smile or give a little wave whenever we greet each other but nothing more. some memories of us would flow in every now and then but it'll just be a short teaser. well, i'll be going now. smile for me, okay?

signed,

the one that loved you the most,

y/n.

taglist // @/noya-sannnn, @crvgio​ , @neo-shitty​

reply to be in my gen taglist!

[princeescaluswords]

how is scott telling allison to go out with matt just to get allison’s mother off his back and then yelling at allison in the middle of a crowded club just because she disobeyed him (aka she dared to prioritize people’s life over scott’s inflated ego and temper tantrums and trusted her own father instead of scott) “not controlling”? and how is pointing out that scott violated derek and told gerard that jackson was the kanima and that matt was his master in canon “abuse apologism” exactly?

You know, your determination to make Scott the most terrible person ever wouldn’t be so incredibly hilarious if it didn’t require you to twist the motivations of everyone else in the show.  Allison didn’t see it as controlling, just like Derek didn’t hate Scott and Stiles didn’t resent him.�� Your take that Scott can never defend himself, never place his own emotions above those of other people, never be frustrated or angry is exactly what I’m talking about when I talk about racism in fandom.  Because I’m absolutely sure that you believe that Derek threatening to kill Scott to get him to do what he wants, Stiles hurting Scott because he wants him to put Stiles’s needs first, and Peter y’know murdering people are all valid responses to what’s going on around them.  But Scott can’t even make a suggestion or raise his voice.  

Why is Scott telling Allison to go out with Matt to get Allison’s mother off his back not controlling?  Well, many reasons, but here are three:  

It was a request, not a demand.  He didn’t say ‘fake date someone else or I’ll break up with you’ or ‘if you love me, you’ll take Matt to the rave’ or ‘Allison, get off your cute little ass and date Matt.’

Allison had already agreed to go on a date with Matt, so he didn’t make that decision.  She already had.

When Allison objected to kissing Matt, Scott didn’t get angry.  He listened to her reservations and then agreed with her in the most fun way possible.

Now, let’s look at the actual dialogue from Raving (2x08):

Scott: Uh, you remember when I got called out of detention to go to the office? She was the one that talked to me, and, uh, she was asking me all these questions about us. Like really, really specific questions. And there were pencils being sharpened. 

Allison: Pencils? 

Scott: Just trust me. It was bad. Um, and I - I think that we should do something like - like - be seen with other people. 

Allison: Like, be seen dating? 

Scott: Maybe more. What? 

Allison: Um - well, I don't - I don't know how it happened or why I even said yes, but I'm actually supposed to hang out with Matt. 

Scott: Oh. Oh, great. That's perfect. Go out with him.

I don’t know about you, but Scott praising her because she already arranged a date with another boy doesn’t seem particularly controlling to me and I think that anyone who doesn’t have an agenda to hate Scott would agree. 

As for yelling at her at the rave, he didn’t yell at her for disobeying him, because he didn’t give her an order, did he?  Which command did she disobey?  He did yell at her, this is an example of the fandom expecting Scott not to have emotions like the white men.  You see, Scott falsely joined Derek’s pack on the condition that they capture Jackson without violence, and Allison’s news that her family was here meant that there was going to be a werewolf pack and a group of werewolf hunters going after the same target.  You know, I think Scott suspected that there might be violence -- and guess what, there was!  Chris Argent and his men fought Derek and Boyd, while Victoria attempted to murder Scott, so I think it’s safe to say that Scott foresaw where this was going.  I wonder if Kara Simmonds might still be alive if Derek, Boyd, and Scott weren’t busy tangling with the Argents.

Scott raised his voice to her in frustration, and I can see how that might annoy you, but it could have been worse -- he could have tied her up with duct tape and tortured her with lacrosse balls until she apologized.

As for the last part, WOW, did you read that wrong.  Here’s my original paragraph from this post: 

Derek Hale held the act of turning someone into the werewolf in high regard -- “The Bite is a gift” -- which made Scott forcing him to Bite Gerard especially heinous.  This interpretation is not only unsupported but it is also used as a cover for racism and abuse apologism.  

The fanon idea that Derek held the Bite in high esteem is used as cover to explain why Derek and Peter both felt entitled to use violence to control and manipulate Scott.  Why Derek thought he had the right to break into Scott’s house and throw him up against the wall, to destroy his crosse, to smash his phone, to stalk him, to break his hand, to have Isaac and Erica beat him up, to slash him up and step on his neck, and to stand there and watch Peter mentally violate him without being coerced, as Gerard was doing to Scott in Master Plan.

It’s used as cover because if Derek sees the Bite as some elevated event, then Scott’s dislike of being a werewolf and resistance to becoming Peter’s or Derek’s beta might offend Derek.   Scott isn’t upset that his life is ruined, and Derek uses his greater knowledge and physical power to beat Scott into conforming, Derek is punishing Scott for trampling on his something sacred.  See how that works?

It’s simply so telling that you’ll find every little thing that Scott does makes him a bad person, even when the white characters he interacts with do things far worse and you like them.  You don’t even try to say they’re equal, and like them equally.  You can’t even hide your agenda.

[themightyaliendwarf]

TPN s02e11

I think I’ve mentioned before that I was taking notes while watching the episodes. I thought that this time I will share them with you

And you know, I could stop this post here. But because I promised myself I will analyze every episode this season, that’s exactly what I’m going to do right now. So, let’s just jump to it.

1. Cool, you are telling us about the Ratri clan. What was that? Oh, you will just speed through a history that took, like, I don’t know... 5 chapters in 1 minute? Yeah, sure, CW, you do you. Not like we need context, history, worldbuilding an all, right? Those are minor things, right? Let’s just flash some images that are taken from the manga. That should make those annoying manga readers happy, right? RIGHT? 

2. THE AUDACITY to show HIM. I know that we as manga readers all hate this little dude, but it’s the good kind of hate. He had personality and twisted sense of humour. He was dangerous, cunning and you had to agree on his terms. Here he is just a meaningless idol that anime only watchers see for the first time. But once again, we don’t need context and worldbuilding in our story, right? They are useless garbage! Apparently... 

3. But the voice acting is good. That was you should expect from Yoshimasa Hosoya. He is a great seiyuu.

4. OKAY, BACK TO RANTING. Well, fellas, the mass production farms were present in the anime for the entire 0.5s. I guess that all we are getting. Not like their existence is important to understand the horror of farm systems and how the nobility treats common people, RIGHT? 

5. And then Peter calmly kills himself. In the manga, this man quite literally became insane. Suddenly, his whole worldview fell down and he could no longer imagine himself living in this world. If you have read Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, same thing happens to Inspector Javert - suddenly his current worldview crumbles into pieces after he is faced with a serious dilemma. And then he decides to kill himself. Same thing happens to Peter in the manga: - he tries to desperately save himself; - he considers killing Emma to break the promise; - and in the end he kills himself because he sees no better option.  Here he just casually pulls out a dagger and cuts his throat... you had one job, CW. ONE!

6. We don’t see this page. Because I guess human world also doesn’t need a development: 

7. I guess lambda experiments gave Norman a superpower. He looks at the person and already knows everything about their status. Because how else can you explain the ability to say whether someone is dead or alive by simply looking at them for 1 second? 

8. And then we see that scene with nobles in front of the queen. They are just... sitting there. Why? I... I have no idea. But I like to think they just sit like that everyday and just look at each other. I mean, they don’t seem to have anything better to do, so that’s something. Honestly, I can’t blame them. I also wouldn’t want to be a part of this story. 

9. Hey, remember all those amazing moments from season 1? You like them, huh? Well, then, today is your lucky day! We will show them to you again! That makes the episode better, right? 

10. Wow! I’ve said before that anime!Norman is an asshole, but anime!Emma also deserves this title. She says goodbye to that old demon AND THEN SHE JUST IGNORES MUJIKA. THE AUDACITY. The Promised Neverland? More like The Promised Audacity.

11. You know, Peter before he dies gives the children a password that they should give to his uncle. Not like it matters, but it also wasn’t included here. Because why would it? 

12. Okay, so the elevator goes down and there they see a gate that has to be opened with the pen. Question: how Peter would cross from one world to another? Was he using this gate? But how could he do it if it requires the Minerva pen? Was there another gate? Or maybe he would just teleoprt with the power of plot? 

13. So, Emma, Ray, Norman and Lambda squad doesn’t go to the human word because they want to save the other children... you know, we all wrote an essay at one point or another. And sometimes you are about to end it when you realise you still didn’t meet the requirements, and you have to squeeze one more paragraph. This is that moment. WHO THOUGHT THAT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA? Should I be happy that anime finally acknowledges the existence of other farms and Norman’s hideout. Do you expect me to be grateful, CW? Wow, congratulations on doing less than bare minimum! Unless making Emma a complate asshole was something you wanted. Yes, sure, I know that in the manga you also have this “ha, I tricked you moment”, but it’s very different. There Emma had little to no choice, here she is just like “well, actually...”. Why? Why didn’t they mention it before? Seriously, why? 

14. And then we have a flashback to that conversation in the cave. You know, I’ve mentioned many times that the fullscore trio are dumbasses in the anime, and that’s only because they are getting dumber with each episode. Emma, there is echo in caves. If you want to have a private conversation, leave the cave. Otherwise, everybody will hear you. Then again, physics is broken in this anime, so I guess I shouldn’t expect it to work now. 

15. And look what they mention - destroying the central power. WWWOOOOW! Pity that Norman didn’t think about that while coming up with his genocide plan, RIGHT? I mean, I know that attacking a random village was more important, but he could have at least considered that option. 

16. I laughed so hard when somebody said that they survived only thanks to the Minerva shelter. Ah, yes, the shelter that survived 5 minutes and then got exploded. Gotcha! A very, veeeery important location. 

17. Fellas, Phil is crying and I feel nothing. Once again, you had one job, CW. Because it’s not the seyiuu’s fault. As I mention before, I think that voice acting is easily the best thing about this season. It’s almost insulting that actors this good are starring in... this.

18. Then we see how the children live in the human world while Isabella’s lullaby is playing in the background. CloverWorks, I’m serious here - you had no right to place this song in this garbage of an episode. NO RIGHT! 

19. Btw. I was right about Isabella surviving the anime. As I said - sugar, sprinkles and no deaths. Not like it’s a horror/thriller/drama manga, right?

20. We’ve reached the moment when my notes become chaotic. Friends, let’s call spade a spade - CloverWorks turned 30+ chapters into one-minute-long slideshow. 

- I could rant about how presumably anime!Emma, anime!Ray were fine with the genocide of the capital. - I could rant about how anime!Emma suddenly reaches Seven Walls and forges a new promise. - I could rant about how Mujika and Sonju wake up the priest anime only watchers know nothing about - I could rant about how Mujika suddenly comes a queen.  - I could rant about the existence of some random humans (I guess was Norman’s hideout) - I could rant about the presumable lack of Reward. But you know what? I won’t. Because this ending was so lazy that I don’t feel like I want to spend more time on analysing it than CW spent on making it. They ruined it. Nothing is explained, nothing matters, the series is over. That’s all, folks. And it’s absolutely disgusting. 

I’ve seen a lot of bad endings. Some of them made little sense, others weren’t satisfyingly, some of them were rushed. But you know what? I could at least see the effort. For example, look at TPN manga. A lot of people had issues with it because it was rushed. I don’t think it was perfect, but I liked it because I could see the heart and effort that was put into it. 

The TPN anime ending was lazy and quite honestly insulting to all of the fans. You could enjoy this season. Perhaps you actually liked this ending - I won’t judge you. But one thing is certain - Shirai, Damizu and us, fans, deserved something better. That’s all. 

[aknosde]

Okay, you know earlier this week when I dropped a paragraph of a fic? I actually finished it, and the end isn’t the best so I’m posting it here and not on AO3.

Loneliness - (featuring my HoH Percy and Clarisse head cannons)

TW for attempted self harm and a generally bad mental space

Percy’s never really had a mentor. When he was young he was put in a few organizations as a mentee. The type of organizations that are supposed to make things easier on kids like him, brown and black kids with “authority problems”. They never really clicked though, sometimes it was him, a lot of the time it was the supposed mentor. He had never cared much, it’s not like they could help him in a way that mattered.

Then there was Luke. Luke who was tall and strong and quick and really, really, really good with a sword. Maybe some of it was a crush, but he had never met someone who he was so encapsulated by. Luke was cool, intelligent, and good looking. He was everything Percy ever wanted and ever wanted to be.

Luke left a bitter taste in Percy’s mouth and a scar on his hand and a distaste for soda. Luke left Percy with an even quicker brain and a knot in his stomach that turned into a murder plot for his stepfather. He drew Percy in time and time again with a hatred that was laced with unrequited love and left Annabeth with blood stains on her dagger and both of them with salt stains on their cheeks and the taste of ash on their tongues.

After Luke was Beckendorf. Granted Percy had had a bit of a crush on him too. Beckendorf was pure, not in the way some white campers might call Hazel innocent. He was just kind, and genuine, and warm. Percy looked up at Beckendorf, big, strong, brave, caring, and he thought this, this is something I could do. I might not be able to be a big hero, but I can do this. I want this.

Beckendorf left Percy with no body for the shroud to cover. He left Percy with inside jokes that would never again be completed and a desire in his brain to constantly be in the forges and to keep as far away from them as possible. Beckendorf left a hole in Percy’s heart that was filled by blood and guilt. Percy looks at the acid scars on his foot with a longing for the time when Beckendorf was taken by giant ants.

And after Beckendorf there was no one. Suddenly Percy was one of the oldest campers. A war veteran. Supposedly the strongest demigod alive. He wasn’t just a counselor now, of his cabin that was solely him, he was a senior counselor. Jake Mason sat in Beck’s seat and Percy cried because suddenly he was alone.

He shouldn’t feel alone. When Annabeth holds his hand while they wait for breakfast he shouldn’t feel alone. When Grover makes enchiladas in the kitchen of the Big House and they eat them together in a field Percy shouldn’t feel alone. When Nico comes running into Percy’s cabin telling Percy that Mythomagic is apparently run by demigods and that they made a card of Nico he shouldn’t feel alone.

It only gets worse when he’s back at home. His mom goes through their normal post-quest routine. She gives him time and space and love. She takes him to the doctor’s. His old prescriptions get refilled, adderall, meperidine. Sally tries again to find a demigod therapist, to no avail. They don’t celebrate his birthday this year.

He’s at Goode without Rachel and he has no other friends. He’s never really been good at that, the whole friend thing, and now it’s practically impossible finding someone who isn’t uneasy around him. He sits in the back of his physics class and eats alone at lunch and sleeps in Paul’s office during breaks.

A teacher hands him back an essay and there’s a paperclip in the corner keeping all the pages together. There is a B+ on it with a smiley face, and Percy takes the paper clip and sharpens it and tries to scratch his skin. It doesn’t do anything. His skin still won’t break, there is just a faint redness. Only after scratching away mindlessly for weeks does he realize that he’s writing words. Last words. “Go!” “Don’t let it happen again.” “Tell him I’m sorry.”

He can fill up his schedule with school and homework and swim and skating and basketball. He can wake up in the morning and eat breakfast and take adderall and carry around the other small orange bottle waiting for his skin to revolt against him. He feels disgusting and empty. Like a demon in a suit of skin that used to be Percy. He misses two years ago when the war wasn’t looming over head, when he and Annabeth and Silena and Beck would all hang out, when he and Clarisse had weekly midnight basketball games.

Grover knows. Grover’s gotta know. For one thing, there’s the empathy link. And Grover is calling multiple times a week, and he always asks how Percy is, if he’s alright. Percy lies “I’m all good man, don’t worry. How’s work?” Then Grover goes off on a tangent about pollution or some shit he saw a human do and the way he purses his lips when he’s worried doesn’t come back until they’re hanging up.

He hates it, the lying. He’s only told lies to protect others, when he doesn’t have enough information yet, when he needs to save them. Now he is lying for himself. How fucking selfish does he have to be? But he’s so lonely, and he can’t bare to lose anyone else. It feels like the smallest step out of line will make his world crumble.

So he lies. He lies his ass off, and he doesn’t know if he’s good at it, but he could be. When Annabeth comes over one weekend, all the way from California, and she asks about the pill bottle rattling in his pocket he says that it’s adderall and she turns back to the tv. When his mom asks if he’s made new friends he says yes, and proceeds to tell a mortal version of something that he and Beck did last year.

One day Rachel comes into the city to visit her parents. They’re sitting on a bench in Central Park and he takes the paperclip out of his coat pocket and goes to work on his wrist while they talk. It’s habit by now. Rachel stops in the middle of her sentence and gently pries the paperclip from his hands and in its place she leaves a blue eyeliner pencil.

Soon his arms are covered in names and words and horrifically beautiful drawings. Blue pigment against brown skin and pink scars, all swirling together. The pencil runs out quickly, but a week later, just as he’s about to take the paperclip back out, an envelope arrives. Sitting in the bottom is a new pencil of blue eyeliner. Percy throws the paperclip in the trash.

By Thanksgiving break Percy isn’t feeling good exactly, he’s feeling mildly better. Loneliness still hits him, in pangs. He’ll be walking to lunch and he’ll have to jump in the canoe lake because he can’t handle it, and swimming is a good excuse for missing a meal.

He wakes up early in the morning and sits in Rachel’s cave waiting for her to wake up. She makes hot chocolate and points out drawings she particularly likes, and then he’ll wash his arms off ready to begin again.

Days are filled with meetings. Meetings with Chiron and meetings with other counselors, trying to make up for being away at school. When he’s not in meetings he trains. Sometimes himself, but a lot of newer or younger campers. The disarming technique he teaches throws him back to Luke and he gives the campers a five minute break hoping the feeling leaves.  

Evenings are being tossed between one person and another. Racing up the climbing wall with Annabeth and laughing at the top and sitting there for way too long. Stopping by the Aphrodite cabin where Drew will catch him up on everything he’s missed being away or being busy. He sits on the floor of the Hades cabin trying for the fifth time to understand Mythomagic.

Every night since he’s gotten back Clarisse raps on his door at two in the morning and they play one v. one on the basketball court until they end up on their backs under the stars. There’s rarely any talking. It’s dark outside and Clarisse has left her hearing aids in her cabin and he’s left his back in Manhattan. Not like he ever uses them in public.

He’s still lonely. 

Maybe Clarisse can read his mind because she taps his leg and they sit up facing each other. He can just barely see her fingers in the moonlight.

“Sometimes people can be lonely not because they are alone but because they miss someone. You have a lot of people to miss.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” He signs back.

“Oh be quiet punk.”

They both break into laughter then, before she continues.

“Miss them. As much as you fucking want. I was in love with Silena, and she died, and Drew is a bitch about it, but she has a right to be.”

Percy is struck again by how similar he and Clarisse are, their lives and their feelings and their actions. The only difference is that Clarisse grants herself the freedom to do what she wants, and he’s scared to death of doing that himself.

“But, and do not ever tell anybody I told you this, a lot of people would miss you. You can pull away and feel lonely but you can’t disappear. Annabeth needs you, Rachel needs you, Nico and Will and Drew need you. And gods fucking dammit, I need you.”

Clarisse stands and pulls him up behind her. They part ways, heading back to their cabins. Percy mulls her words over in his head as he finally drifts into sleep, his body completely and utterly exhausted. Suddenly there is a blue-gold light, and he remembers Annabeth, and then everything is dark and there’s the smell of pine.

[stray-tori]

TPN S02E08 - Initial Thoughts (anime-only)

Reaction Vid: Google Drive

I’m here, finally! Let me just say, I’m glad to see some more positivity around ahh- Not that anyone isn’t allowed to feel negatively about it, I do have my problems too of course! But it’s just nice when things are epic and liked by people :)

.

I don’t think I can really separate it into topics this time so I’ll just kind of... go through it by chronological order this time! With “.” paragraphs separating thoughts :)

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Norman figuring out that there’s at least one other person taking tests because he’s left-handed and the code scan thing is placed on the right when he put it down left is such a nice, unspoken execution!

.

also. Zaziee :(

.

also, what do we think is happening in this room? are those just... dead subjects that they feed to demons or...? experimenting with how certain manipulated humans will affect demons eating them? 

(also they just flipped Norman’s walk here, so his curl is on the wrong side. not blaming them or anything, I just noticed. I hope the staff is doing okay :<)

.

also, idk if my brain is melting but when Norman was like "I just need a detonator" and then he focuses on that king chess piece before the explosion, is the implication that the king piece was the detonator? :D

I do like the few subtle hints we do get just from the scenes (like the left hand/right hand thing and the cube communication) but I feel like I'm missing some connecting pieces here, even with knowing Smee was there and supporting him. It’s weird because I feel like the left-hand thing was really nicely done and digestible and the fork thing is presumably checking out how many cameras there are (even if still a little obvious) - but the explosion? Maybe I’m just stupid haha- it had to be Smee helping, right? I just would have liked more hints (but maybe I’m too small brain rn).

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I'm a little confused because Peter said "the era of James as the gatekeeper has ended" (paraphrased), so he’s the gatekeeper right? And Norman was so concerned about the gatekeeper last episode, to the point that I felt like it was a point largely against the "using the gate in GF" plan (aside from uncertainty about the gates and the human world, of course) - but it's literally just a human then? I thought it was gonna be some epic demon or magic concept or something, but it's just that dude pff- whats the dude gonna do against the murder squad? :D Ig he has the farm/demon forces behind him but those would exist either way (and Norman must have considered that), so why is he in particular such a big deal/threat? Is he that ultra big brain? Not big brain enough to have prevented Norman’s escape anyway.

Or maybe he’s just 6 moves ahead and waiting for Norman to lead him back to the hideout that was referenced a few episodes ago where Norman brings all the stolen kids -- but I feel like that’s such a... roundabout way of capturing the GF kids. Plus, that should be Isabella’s doing, if anything. So yeah. Confused about that a bit.

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I love the parallel how in ep1 Ray running from the pursuers and Emma collapsing was the whole thing about like, not taking it all upon yourself -- and now Emma (who mirrored Ray’s exact run through the forest) got help with Ray jumping in and also later Sonju, conveniently timed as usual haha.

(negativity) It’s a nice parallel, though i would have preferred if Ray had run again and Emma had gotten the shot - it’d still carry around the same message (”then vs now”) but please I beg you give Emma one (1) cool bow shot  - or I’ll steal your animation and do it myself >:”(

(ik she got the hunting shot which was slow and cool but idk)

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The animation was so pretty. I loved Norman on the cliff and the wind animation, and the MUSIC when the town raid happened and how everything was framed and the goddamn MUSIC???? DID I MENTION THE MUSIC.

Also Norman’s expression and that shot where he realizes Vyrk has the blood condition and sweeps in for a stab.

It was pretty brutal and I appreciate that they showed it. It’s just... really pretty overall and- yes. thank you. love goes out to the staff. god knows they need some. and money. please give them more money.

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I also like how with how the episode set up the whole, "are you god?" - "I'll be a god or devil" thing, and then when Vyrk asks "are you a human?", my friend joked he'd answer "no, i'm god" and then we joked a bit about his silence. But in hindsight, I really appreciate those jokes, because it made me realize: for a different kind of character, that WOULD have been the perfect setup to have a badass response but that silence was probably on purpose and I can’t really explain it but I just like how that makes the through-line in the episode even stronger and also kind of connects with his wavering?? I can’t explain but I LIKE IT.

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(slightly negative) It's a little bit funny that the parallel didn't occur to him until it was thrown in his face, but I think that's what dissociation and just being observed in one's plan does.

Plus I do get what they're going for, and it was pretty dang emotional. A little on the nose maybe but- yee.

It works well as an eye opener to tear down the mental wall between the two groups. He's also never really been in contact with demons equally before afaik so, I shall accept it. Not that currently killing them all makes him equal in power dynamic right now, but I mean like, in a way where he truly, in real life, got to see that they’re similar -- he made comparisons to humans last episode, so clearly he wasn’t completely unaware. He’s smart, he knew what he was doing would make him seem like a devil to the demons. He probably just numbed himself to it until something that could break those walls down happened, ie the Emma thing.

I feel like it could have worked too if her name wasn’t Emma, but he probably wouldn’t have paused for as long and the voiced lines couldn’t have been given the time needed to make them hit as strongly - but I do think just a line that sounds really similar to what they talked about in GF could have been enough too - but again, that would have potentially taken too long down the exchange between the two.

It also doesn’t seem completely random since the old guy also reacted to Emma’s name before and everything so. Overall, I’m willing to suspend my disbelief - even if it IS funny that the family naming went from Vyrk to... Emma :D (though demons do get old so I suppose that makes sense haha)

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I also wonder how this will impact Norman going forward. Even if he decides for the GF plan now (likely, we don’t have much time), he still did that and even if they return all the degenerated demons with Mujika’s, Sonju’s and Vyrk’s help... I doubt those who were already eaten and killed, can be saved. So that blood is on his hands forever now, likely hurting even more now that he feels personally impacted by it and not just... knows he’s doing something bad.

The anime definitely doesn’t have the time to delve into that sadly but that’s,,, very good angst.

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week 3 of asking where is Isabella- (I mean I am GLAD that she didn’t show up at the temple- yET - because that’d just make them leaving them there worse but fudshjsd- Is she actually just waiting for them to come for the gate what’s happening ahahaha-)

I also don’t know if I mentioned this in my last episode thoughts or not, but I do still believe the gate stuff could have been revealed more incrementally? Like have James include that tidbit of info, please. If we know gates exist, then at least now it isn’t such an extreme change of information to know: “there are gates. yes where you were sent WAS a gate, but they’ve been destroyed. oh and another gate is in GF!” like HOLD UP-

.

I wonder if we’ll ever see the hideout that Cislo or Vincent referenced... I’m sure that’d be lots of random children designs so probably not but,, I am really curious how and if they’ll take all those kids. Norman did say he wants freedom for all cattle children. but with no large scale plan anymore, I’m not sure if that’s gonna work. If any human stays behind, as I’ve often talked about before, the cycle just starts anew and I’m really curious if TPN will go for a morally grey ending like that.

Unless the whole “evil-blood” religion works out this time when the high class is gone. but even Sonju is already in part a counter-example so... we’ll see I suppose.

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I really loved this episode though! If the anime continues this trend to the finish line, it’ll stay a wonky 7 for me :) (quality wise, you guys know my tpn brainrot won’t make me truly hate it pff- tpn love too big-)

[talesmaniac89]

A Day Off

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Your stubborn boyfriend never takes a day off, even when he’s feeling under the weather. Luckily Dean Winchester has you around to make sure he takes care of himself.

Triggers: Sick Dean, just a cold. Other than that it’s just fluff

Y/N = Your name 

---

“Hey… (Y/N),” Dean’s voice was weaker than normal as it shook you out of the especially confusing paragraph about sirens you’d been reading on the couch. The slight shake in his voice alone was enough to make you drop the book like it’d burned you and turn fully in your seat to let worried eyes find your boyfriend entering the bunker library.

Well… Entered would be a bit of an exaggeration. It was more like he fell through the door and collapsed in a heap. The dramatic entrance easily sending you hurdling out of your seat in your rush to get to his side. Every nerve and muscle in your body on fire with protective concern as you ran across the bunker over to where he was lying, unmoving.

Nearly sliding over the floor in your panicked rush, you dropped to your floor next to your pale faced boyfriend just as his eyes fluttered back open, revealing watery green eyes. He looked so weak. Nothing like your normally strong hunter. 

Worry rested as a heavy stone in your stomach as your hands hovered over his body, trying to find whatever injury or whatever else was hurting him. As if you’d somehow gained the powers to brush off his pain with just a touch of your fingers.

Every worst-case scenario and pained past moment of hurt rushed through your mind as you reached out to him just as he tried to push himself back up. Leaning in carefully you let your fingertips brush over his forehead, pushing damp strands of sandy blonde hair out of the way.

He was scorching hot.

“Dean… Shit. You’re as white as a sheet,” You said, hating the shake in your voice. If there was something seriously wrong then he needed you to be strong. You could get through anything together. But you needed to get a grip. He needed you to be his strong little soldier. To deal with whatever curse or injury or…

“I’m alright, it’s just cold in here…” Dean’s voice was weak and strained as he spoke up over your panicked thoughts. His unfocused eyes squinting as he tried to sharpen what was most likely a blurred version of you to the clearly weak and hurting hunter.

“Dean! You just collapsed!” You could hear the fear in your own voice. The nearly frantic high pitch breaking over the words and unintentionally increasing in volume with every syllable. Yet, you couldn’t control it. Not when you could feel the blistering heat that was rolling off him in waves as your arms wrapped around the back of the hunter that was trying to get back on his feet next to you. Something was really wrong. 

Tightening your arms around him, you refused to give him the space he needed to get back up. Fearing a repeat of the earlier collapse against the bunker’s hard concrete floor. Instead you kept him seated, letting him lean against you as he didn’t even have enough energy to keep himself sitting upright.

“Don’t worry about me… I’m fine, it’s just a cold,” Dean tried to sound gruff, but in his current state the words came out as more of a weakened whimper instead. Letting the words sink in together with the unnatural amounts of heat that rolled off him, your fear was quickly replaced with angry worry.

Dean Winchester was the strongest man you knew. But sometimes that strength could translate into pure idiotic stubbornness.

He’d always work until he collapsed. Never letting it show that he was feeling under the weather. To Dean, any sign of weakness could be lethal. 

That’s how he’d survived as a hunter for all these years, by building walls made up of steely determination and an unflinching outer strength. Even though he’d let you scale those walls and invited you into his heart, sometimes he seemed to forget he could just be himself with you. Not Dean Winchester; hunter of all things bad. Just Dean… Your loving boyfriend. 

Forgetting that he could be weak or sick and let you take care of him. Though he’d still be the first to make a fuss about even a sniffle from you. And so, it was up to you to keep his stupidly stubborn ass on the straight and narrow.

Including getting him to rest when he was sick.

“I’ve faced ghosts with more colour in their face than you right now. If you’re sick you’re not going anywhere but straight back to bed,” You said with an annoyed huff. Strict words that were softened by your hand gently stroking back his hair so you could put your forehead against his in a weak attempt to measure his temperature. 

“You’re burning up Dean,”

“I’ve taken on apocalypses with broken bones and bullet wounds,” Dean’s attempt at laughter came out as nothing more than a breathless groan as you struggled to pull the big man back up on his feet. Damn it, he could barely stand. This wasn’t just a bit of a cold, he was sick. 

“This is nothing. I’ve just been run off my feet lately with all the cases is all,”

The words he’d probably meant to calm your angry worry did the exact opposite when paired with how the hunter was swaying in place, his cheeks flushed in feverish heat and green eyes watering and distant. 

No, Dean wasn’t waging any war today. Even if you had to call each and every one of your countless enemies and reschedule whatever mayhem they’d been planning to throw your way to someday next week. You’d get him in bed and keep him there. Even if you had to handcuff him to it.  

Of course, you bit your tongue before the threats could leave you. Knowing your stubborn hunter would just make an innuendo or a joke out of them. Hiding his weakness behind his humour like he always did. And you didn’t have the time or strength to roll your eyes. You needed to somehow lug the exhausted hunter through the bunker and back into your shared bedroom before he collapsed again.

“I don’t care what you’ve done before Winchester. You’re not doing anything with a fever as high as yours. Not on my watch,” You sighed instead, reaching out to steady him and place his arm around your shoulders so you could begin the long trip back to his room.

“But…”

“No buts! It hurts me to see you in pain, and I’m not having it. Not when I know you’ll get better with some rest,” You shot down whatever excuse the weakened hunter was trying to give you before the raspy words could even leave your him. Sure, you knew your own straight forward admission was a bit of a cheap shot. But it genuinely did hurt you, and all you wanted was to get him back to bed so you could take care of him.

“Alright… But just for a little while,” Dean’s mumbled whisper didn’t sound even the slightest bit convincing when paired with the sheen of sweat on his forehead or the tremble of a fever induced shiver in his voice. Yet, you let the issue lie. Focusing instead on getting your stumbling and unsteady boyfriend to his bed and under the covers.

“I’ll take care of you. Let's just get you to bed,” You kept one arm secure around his waist as you took careful, slow steps out into the chilly hallway. Though you yourself were overheating from the sheer amount of heat generated by the sick hunter next to you. Hell, his fever was probably hot enough to be used as a central heating system for the whole goddamn bunker.

How he could have let himself get this bad was beyond you. Or… Not really. No matter the situation, Dean never let himself rest. He never took a damned day off, no matter how big the circles under his eyes got, or how dark his eyes grew from the pain inflicted by the countless bastards you wanted to backhand for taking advantage of the man’s larger than life heart.

“Couch’s fine…” Dean slurred. His fevered mind not even fully registering that you were slowly but surely moving him down the hallway.

“No, you need a bed. Trust me, I might not be a doctor, but I’ve played one on TV. Or at least in Gabriel’s screwed up TV reality,” You shot back, teasing a weak smile out of your tired and sick boyfriend. Followed by a raspy chuckle that quickly morphed into a coughing fit.

---

“Dean… Baby,” You sighed, pulling at the blanket that was locked in place by his body weight on top of it.

As soon as you’d managed to get him down the hallway and through his door, the oh so stubborn love of your life had insisted he could walk himself. Only to fall face first onto the bed and decide that was close enough to what you wanted. Now he refused to move. Even as he was shivering above the warm duvet, still fully dressed.

“I’m fine,” The muffled reply teased a soft smile out of you that stayed hidden from the big baby stubbornly remaining collapsed where he was instead of getting comfortable under the blanket.

“No, you’re not. Sit up, come on,” You sighed, gently turning him around before grabbing his blisteringly hot hands to pull him into a seated position. First, you needed to get him changed. Flannel didn’t breathe well enough and he was sweating. A lot. A dry t-shirt, and some sweatpants would do. Though you knew it would be a battle as soon as the thought hit you.

Grabbing the change of clothes from his closet you hurried back to where he was swaying dangerously at the edge of the bed. His head lolling as he tried to find the strength to keep it up.

“I don’t have time for this (Y/N)… Research,” You only caught fragments of the words Dean was mumbling to himself, but as you returned with the clothes you shot them all down with a strict look and a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“No babe, you’re not doing anything today. Nothing except focusing on getting better,” You followed your words with soft fingers gently peeling off his flannel shirt as Dean sat still. His eyes closed and a furrow in his brow betraying how lightheaded and exhausted he was. Having to spend all his energy to even understand your words. 

“Lift your arms,”

“…’m fine,” The weak hunter mumbled, though he complied with your order as arms rose slowly from their sides. Though you had to help him lift them fully to get his t-shirt off, and a new one back on him.

Sinking to your knees, you removed his shoes, and, eyeing his jeans, you sighed. There was no way you could get him out of those jeans and into sweatpants without him cooperating. And he could barely keep his body upright. Forgoing the sweatpants, you chose to instead just remove his belt. 

That was as good as it’d get. Now you just had to get him under the blanket.

However, before you could tell him to lie down, or even push him gently down onto the mattress, Dean’s brow furrowed again. His arms shaking as he tried to push them against the mattress and jaw clenching in obvious strain.

“What is it? Are you in pain?” You hurried to stand back up, ready to call for backup, have Castiel heal him, get pain killers or… But before you could even fully move. Your stubborn hunter pushed himself back off the bed.

Or at least he attempted to push himself off it. Barely getting up before he flopped right back down. His breath strained and ragged from the obvious amount of effort that went into the small movement.

“… Up… Demons,” You couldn’t catch every word as the hunter slurred them through his fever haze. His head lolling from side to side as Dean kept his eyes down and shaky fingers curled into the blanket under him.

“No Dean Winchester. In this house we do NOT get out of bed when we’re sick, and we definitely don’t go demon hunting,” Your lecturing words were soft around the edges from obvious worry as you gently pushed your stubborn boyfriend down until he was stretched out on the bed. Quickly covering him in the blanket and tucking it in around him for good measure. He was shivering through his fever and you needed to keep him warm.

“It’s fine… I can work… Through it,”

“Y’know Dean… Normal people actually listen when people tell them to rest,” You sighed. Taking a careful seat at the edge of the bed, you let your fingers brush against his forehead and temples.

“Mmmh… Nice,” Dean’s mumbled, a small weak smile on his lips as the furrow in his brow finally disappeared, replaced with a much more relaxed expression. His cheek pushing weakly against your palm as if to make sure you didn’t remove it. 

“… ‘s nice ‘n cold,” He hummed as you smiled down at your exhausted hunter.

“Let me take care of you Dean… You just rest,” Leaning down, you let your lips ghost over his damp forehead as your stubborn hunter gave up on the battle and relaxed into the mattress. His breathing quickly softening into a steady rhythm and hinting at a painless sleep.

---

“Are you ok?” You asked as soon as his eyes opened, looking up from where you’d been trying to quietly put down your carefully balanced tray. Packed with medicine, water, tea, grilled cheese sandwiches and soup. Ok, so maybe you’d been a bit frantic in the kitchen. Unsure what Dean would want when he woke back up. But at least you’d made sure to cover all the basics.

“Yeah…” Dean groaned, the lack of focus in green eyes and the way his voice cracked over the single word doing little to convince you. So instead you let your hand go to his cheek again as soon as you put down the tray. Watching as his eyes fluttered shut with a contented smile. 

“Actually, no,” He hummed against your cool palm.

“You don’t need to be tough around me Dean, you know that right?” You let your fingers comb through his hair as you watched your soldier finally put down his weapons for a little while. Looking smaller and younger all curled up in the blankets with half-lidded green eyes trying to focus on you.

“I know… I can be m’self around you,” Your hunter mumbled through the mess of blankets, his eyes still closed as he nearly purred against your soft hand in his hair. The weak shaky smile was adorable and warm as Dean allowed himself some time to relax and heal.  

“Are you hungry? I brought a little of everything… Drinks and food,” You said with a nod towards the tray after a minute of comfortable silence. Your hand stilling where it was playing with his matted sand blonde hair as Dean’s eyes stayed shut. Only opening a little with an annoyed grumble once you removed your fingers from his hair.

Yet, as his fevered mind finally caught your words his eyes widened in what nearly looked like surprise. Following your line of sight over to the tray full of drinks, soup, comfort food and medicine.  

“Grilled cheese… Please,” Dean sounded hesitant, younger and nearly sad once he found his voice again. His eyes stayed on the tray of food as you helped him sit up and put a pillow behind his back.

“Don’t… Tell me this isn’t the first time someone’s made you food and taken care of you when you’re sick..?” You asked carefully. Worried your words might be tearing at hastily sutured wounds in the hunter’s heart. 

The Winchester brothers hadn’t had what you’d call a normal childhood after all. And as you’d learned since joining up with them; part of the family business creed, scrawled on the back of a truck stop receipt, was to bury the hurt. Six feet under.

“Not since… Not since I was a kid,” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper as he kept his eyes on the food. The furrow in his brow back along with painfully happy memories of a lost childhood. Leaning in, you fluffed up his pillow as you softly let your lips linger on his forehead, erasing the pain that was etched there.

“Well, you have me now, and I’ll always take care of you,” You smiled, handing him the plate of grilled cheese sandwiches, as if the plate of food alone was enough proof to solidify your silent addition of forever.

---

“It’s tasty, but I have no appetite…” Dean only managed a few bites before he put the plate back down with a frown. Looking at the sandwich as if it’d betrayed him. The hunter was used to being a glutton for his comfort foods, so you knew the thought of not being able to finish one of his favourites was a big dampener on his mood.

“It’s fine Dean, as long as you’ve got some food in you then you can take your medicine,” You took the plate from him before the hunter put his stubbornness to the test once more and tried to force himself to finish the sandwich. Hell, once he felt better you’d make him all the comfort foods he wanted. For now, however, he’d have to make do with a glass of water and some antipyretic tablets to break him of that fever.

“Do you need anything else?” You added as you rubbed his arm, watching him grimace at the tablets, but decide to tough it out as his eyes met your worried ones. Careful to put the glass of water within his reach as you placed it back on his bedside table.

“Could you… Come in here? I think I’d feel better if I can hold you,” Dean’s big green eyes looked at you pleadingly as he lifted the blanket with a shaky, weak hand. Your normally tough as nails hunter as soft and sweet as cotton candy now that he’d finally allowed himself to drop his walls and his armour and be spoiled by you for a bit.

“Of course, Dean,” You smiled, carefully climbing fully onto the bed and into the arms of your boyfriend. The heat radiating off him easily melted away what little worry you’d held onto as you wrapped your arms around him and let him hold you as close as fever weakened arms could.

“I’ll always be here with you, so you just rest. I got this,” You murmured into his chest. Feeling lips that were busy placing gentle grateful kisses in your hair give a small smile as he squeezed you even closer.

Dean Winchester was the strongest, most stubborn man you knew. But he was also incredibly sweet.

Though that was only for you, and the four walls of your bedroom, to know.

---

Tags:

Dean Winchester Stories: @ria132love​ @woodworthti666​ @defenderrosetyler​  @akshi8278​

All Stories: @deanwanddamons​ @winchest09​ @hobby27​  @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ 

[amlovelies]

Finders-Keepers

for @wayhavenmonthly​ Fall for Unit Bravo 

Day 9: Jacket (yes I know I’m late)

Pairing: Mason/Serena Willis (not a detective)

rating: Mature, because M flirting and banter but no real smut

words:1021

a/n: My tab key seems to be broken so please excuse my wonky paragraph breaks. 

read on AO3

    “Can you take Mason’s coat back to the warehouse. He left it here yesterday.” Dinah asks as I’m getting ready to leave the police station.

    “Guess that explains why he was such a grump this morning. It must have been a cold patrol.” I say as I reach out to grab it. The leather is soft and buttery under my hands. Like most things Mason owns it’s well worn and comfortable looking. I guess it would have to be with his sensory issues. I could only image how much the tag on a shirt or bad stitching would mess with him.

     I’m almost out the door when I turn to ask, “hey, do you think I could get away with a joke about his memory?”

   “If anyone could it’s you. He seems very-” She has that look on her face the one I’ve been noticing more and more. Something a little curious and maybe a touch smug. I don’t like it much, “-fond of you lately.”

   “Ha hardly. Just because we’re sleeping together doesn’t mean he likes me any better than anyone else. It just means I make bad life choices.”

    “Oh, I wasn’t talking about that because, gross.” Dinah makes a retching face to really drive it home. “I meant more the way he always sits with you.”

    I scowl at her.

   She laughs, “I was about to say that I don’t really get the two of you, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Mason make that exact same face.”

   “Bye!” I yell as I walk out the door unwilling to continue the conversation. I’m not sure why she is determined to make it a bigger deal than it is. We’re having fun. It doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.

   Once I get back to the warehouse, I have a choice to make. I could be a normal functioning adult and just give him the jacket, or I could not do that and fuck with him a little. Just a little, I don’t have a plan, but I’ll figure it out as I go.

   As I’m walking down the hallway, I can hear Farah and Mason’s voices coming from the game room. Without thinking about it too much, I slip the jacket on. It’s warm and I swim in it a little. It smells like him and I feel a fluttering begin in my stomach as I inhale the familiar aroma. It brings with it a wave of memories and I have to take a few moments to savor them, and then a few more moments to let my heart rate return to normal.

    They are deep into a game of darts and don’t even notice me when I enter. It looks like Farah is winning.  I grab a drink from the fridge and lean against the wall to watch and wait.

   Farah notices first. A huge grin breaks out on her face. “Nice jacket, Serena.”

  “Do you like it? Some idiot left it at the police station. I think it looks pretty good on me, hate to see it go to waste in the lost and found.” I say returning the smile.

   Mason finally turns to see what we are talking about. I expected a scowl or a grimace, but I don’t know how to describe the look on his face. His eyes track over my body. I put my hands on my hips and smirk at him. His eyes meet mine and for half a second there’s something there that cause a lurch in my chest, but then it’s gone.

  “Well you know what they say, finders-keepers.” Farah says with a laugh.

   “Are you two done?” he asks with a roll of his eyes.

   “oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your game? I wouldn’t think you’d be so eager to get back to losing.” I want to get back to the teasing and joking around and try and forget that twinge I’d felt. It’s just Dinah’s digging getting into my head. I’m not about to let myself start thinking that way and ruin something fun.

  “Not having a very lucky day are you, Mason? First, I kick your butt at darts, and now you’ve lost your jacket to Serena.” Farah says still laughing.  

   “Oh, I think I’ll still get lucky.” Mason says with a smirk that sends a thrill through my body. Now that’s what I’m used to.

    “You’re still not getting the jacket back.”

     Mason closes the space between us and raises one arm to rest on the wall above my head, “not usually this hard to get you out of your clothes, Sweetheart.”

     “Well, you haven’t given me a reason yet.” I say meeting his intense gaze my heart pounding, anticipation and desire coursing through my veins. He knows because of course he does with his stupid vampire super senses.

      “Pretty sure I’ve given you a reason a few times already.” He reaches out to brush a piece of hair behind my ear. His touch is light, teasing. I wet my lips and am satisfied to see how much the motion draws his attention.

     “Hmmm, maybe you’ll have to jog my memory.” I reply as I reach out and place my hand against the firm muscles of his chest.

     The tension of the moment is broken by a retching sound from Farah, “alright I’m out if y’all going to keep talking that way. Only so much nasty I can handle in a day.”

     Heat floods my face. To be honest, once Mason had gotten within arms reach of me, I had completely forgotten she was in the room.

    “Farah, wait,” I call out as I push off the wall, brush past Mason, and go to follow her. I’m not quite ready to lose the jacket yet. It’s very comfy. Plus, it’s fun to frustrate him.

    “Hey,” Mason calls out as I’m almost out the door.

     I turn back expecting some growly sarcastic remark.

    “It does look good on you,” he says with a surprising amount of sincerity in his voice. As he meets my eyes, I feel that same twinge in my chest. Fuck.

tagging: @morgans-ass-freckles and @agentnatesewell (let me know if you would like to be/not be tagged)

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket, SE02, Ep24

This is a buildup ep for the finale. looks like furuba’s tradition for awkward buildup eps continues as this ep is clearly divided into two parts: machi & zodiac banquet.

-Killing the Vibe (furuba style):

Usually when writers buildup an emotional moment, they either go with it right away or if it is not its time, they slowly dissolve it or gradually redirect the story somewhere else. But the most important thing is that you hold on to the feeling they worked so hard to build but know that it will be dealt with later. Usually this is done with minor visuals such as quick flashback to the main event & the character taking deep breath ignoring it. But it is acknowledged that now it is not the time. Furuba doesn’t do that. If they build high moment & decide it is not the time to continue with it, they drop it abruptly, using the ending ost as a closing sign....which is odd cuz this is not episodic eps but continuing plot. They did it twice now: (a) tohru’s nightmare ep 19. it was treated as cliffhanger, but the next, we opened with yuki’s narrative where we see tohru normal. I know tohru’s issues will be dealt with later, perhaps season 3. But the nightmare moment was left hanging weirdly!! we never saw tohru deciding not to focus on it or anything! then (b) the kyo/tohru moment on stage & the symbolic tearing image ep23. Big moment which I  know will be focused on later. But it is so freakin odd that we see them so normal in their daily activities..as if nothing happened. Not a slight visual hint that either one is troubled... I praised how in ep, 23, they showed tohru face worrying abt bits & pieces here & there. These visual hints connects the plot.. For a moment I thought Cinderella play is a filler!! but I don’t think so, since 3 major things happened (Tohru’s near confession, machi’s opinion of yuki, arisa’s recorded outburst) two of which dealt with this ep. I know they want the focus to be on yuki, seeing that his plotline is moving smoothly without awkward breaks, but why not smooth out the other’s plotline with minor visuals without the jarring jumps. Ending ost is not automatic shifts in continued plot. Oh well, it is a minor thing I felt, no big deal.

-Machi pov is here!:

I never expected to see machi today! nice surprise! So machi is not only lonely, she lives alone! that’s odd & tragic! how can a junior high school student live alone? since when was she living alone? & her mom calling to check on her or insult her or scold her! I never wanted a phone call to end this fast. Machi’s monologue was amazingly done. Rather than describing her feelings to us or stating what we are already seeing, the words came cold.. automatic.. slow.. without much emotions. Exactly imitating how machi feels abt herself. DULL. She never thought abt things such as fave color or fave place. never thought abt anything that requires personality or preferences. The imagery they used while she was walking in the street is epic! It explained her mentality! honestly even if she said nothing around that time while she was walking, the image would’ve done enough! Machi was able to see the change in yuki cuz she was able to sense that yuki too was dull/boring or felt he felt so. Now he laughs, jokes, interacts, & joins outside school activities. Negating the dull persona. Now, it is only her. machi questions if she can do the same but her question comes out loaded with her negativity. Instead of can I do the same? it is “ why Am i here? Her bad habits are pulling her back & resisting the change.

- Since they’re deciding to embark into the romantic aspect of mach/yuki & to further add contrast to his interaction with tohru, machi is shown so struck by yuki’s presence, she falls. Typical romantic moment that I appreciate for machi who thinks she isn’t typical girl. but dull girl. Yuki finding the leaf & being happy that she treasures it adds to his self-esteem as it tells him that he is worthy to be treasured. I love machi’s indecisive responses! It gives her personality! as she is reluctant between denying or telling the truth. She was never in such situation, so she doesn’t know what to do!! blushing red like her leaf, machi didn’t only go with friends, she also learned her fave color! yuki, developing the future boyfriend detective sense like kyo, guessed it that machi likes red. You remember things abt ppl you find interesting! Machi felt that perhaps to yuki she is not dull, but interesting enough to want to learn things abt her!

-Tohru is a grown woman!!!

trust me to take 5sec interaction that involves my girl & write a deep analytic paragraph! Call it building sandcastles out of nothing but I don’t care! XD. tohru deserves some spotlight! I’m a bit disappointed that the scene is shown form a far to include yuki & shiggure..(WHY???. They can have their moment later! let my girl have a screenshot for a change!!) & the art quality is the lowest in the ep, lol & but whatever~~~ let’s focus on the positive side! my tohru bought sth for herself!! tohru who spent her hard earned money on buying candy ingredients for the filthy rich sohma’s instead of paying her tuition fees?!! tohru who wore a worn out swimsuit for school & didn’t see the value in buying new one ?! tohru whose school bag have seen better days as hiro said?!! tohru bough herself a scarf with pompom!!& she’s PROUD!! & she goes & shows kyo!!!! cuz she loves him & cuz in SE01 he was mad she doesn't buy herself stuff & cuz she knows he’ll be proud of her & cuz she want show off her cuteness & get his attention & cuz she wanna tease him!! Did you see my girl deliberately hit him with the pompom??? my girl is feisty!! She teases!! Tohru has this feisty, forward personality that she hides but peeks in certain instances!! Like when she teased kyo that he’s still scared of the stain on the wall..like when she calls him cute later this ep!! I’m so happy for every tiny teeny moment of tohru where she is herself & not the worrying mom or friend, when she is focused abt what she shows & what she wants & right now she wants kyo to notice her! GIRL HE ALREADY DOES! you are killing him already tohru..he’d be dead by now if he wasn’t a cat with 9 souls! XD.

-Yuki is leaving Akito’s side:

coming to the big moment in this ep. Akito is loosing yuki. Not only yuki decided by himself to attend the banquet that he avoided last year, he also talked to akito & forgave him for everything before. Yuki is letting go of the past. Forgiveness is a cure ppl! it’s the hardest achieved cure. it cuts the ties to negativity & free the person from the painful feelings. Akito knows she’ll be loosing a zodiac member soon! she reacts the same way she did with hatori! violently resisting change, violently making a statement that I’m the ruler of you. However, unlike when it was hatori, no one came to her. Kureno stopped her. but the rest went to yuki, to the rebel, to the one who caused her pain & rage. Akito is not only loosing yuki...she is slowly loosing all of them.

- Yuki continues the next step in his growth & frees hatori from his sins. By allowing himself to accept that he is not a helpless victim, yuki was able to see the others plain as well. Before, in his mind, he was the only one suffering, others are cruel, but now, he sees the criminal who erased his friends memories was also suffering all along. Perhaps yuki thinks that akito is suffering too? That’s why chose to forgive her & tell her that I don’t hate you anymore or hold grudge.

Side Notes:

I’m so glad kakeru had so little to do with machi & yuki interaction here. He is a character that demands spotlight & if his role was bigger, machi would disappear, it will be another yuki/kakeru moment. Also, since machi/kakeru parallel aya/yuki, you bet kakeru will be more involved between them in order to get closer to his sister & fix the gap like aya did, so I appreciate the moment of only yuki/machi now as it is unique moment without any parallels involved.

After learning of Shigure’s correct line, I can now see how things would’ve been better for akito, if she learned from yuki’s rebellion. loosing one is less painful than loosing them all, which she will. Shigure was eager for her to be spared the pain. or he might be eager for sth else entirely! but he wants this to end.

Shigure sure wasn’t himself this ep! he was restless & his jokes were all over the place, he nearly caused a misunderstanding between hatori & Mayko. I think shigure is hearing the curse breaking!!!!!

Rin & kyo!!!! I never knew I needed this!!! like last ep, I was celebrating hana & kyo, & the return of kyo & haru!! but rin & kyo is unique duo since it is not a teasing dynamics! it is a we-are-too-similar dynamics! XD

Kazuma is luv!! ugh!! my heart! what a man!! so caring & kind & ever so gentle! look at him going to rin to invite her! no kid should be alone in new years! look at him teasing his son!! look at him out polite tohru! just look at him!!!

I appreciate that the boys (kyo,yuki.haru,momiji) have different body types from each other. however, since kyo’s body changing is mentioned in the story many times, they focused on showing him growing since the 2nd ep of season 2 & more so in the beach arc & they steadily continued ever since!!! this ep, even with the low quality they showed his Adam’s apple & he is taller next to shishio. Also his baggy clothes help defy the lanky art style. With yuki, since his beauty is mentioned in the story, they’ve been focused on his face, giving him HD quality beauty all the time, but not much when it comes to his body. but today, he looked a lil bit older in machi’s scene? I duno if it is the new clothes or they’re finally allowing his body to grow?! I hope so. They are still making him so lanky as his legs were only a bit meatier than machi’s in the fight scene, but hey lankiness is the show’s art style, just look at hatori </3. They focused on making Momiji baby as it is mentioned in the story that he doesn’t look like a highschooler at all, but I swear he looks a bit older this ep!! right???

Speaking of hatori, hello there~ doc~ I never knew I needed hatori in Japanese clothes this much! It hid the lankiness & gave him the adult manly look he deserves!! so hot!!! I heard his grunt in my heart as he took his clothes off! XD. Soyou’re attached to the school sensie now~~ a lit bit worried your filthy buddy is putting hands on her..huh? oh!, if only you knew that your goofy pal is the master mind behind your new love story! I think he knows tho~

I never expected machi to be that cute!!! machi/yuki is so cute!

Rin sleeps sitting...like a horse? rin didn’t feel haru? i thought horses are as jumpy as cats! lol

Tohru & kyo are having quality flirting time with no interference from either shigure or yuki. lol.. shishio is amazing! XD

Kureno has the DVD now..let the war begins!!!

[multisfabulis]

Love’s Descent into Madness

Dethronement (Chapter 3/3)

Word Count: 3627

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, gore, decapitation, and major character death

Happy holidays!

I hope everyone likes the ending because writing this was suffering. Winter decided to come early this year and I absolutely hate the cold so a lot of this was written with numb fingers. The past few days have also been tiring and, because I wanted to get this out before Christmas, I had to pull an all-nighter to finish this and rewrite it to make it look pretty so this was a sleep-deprived fic.

Okay, so I have some things I need to explain:

First off, that line about Ayano needing to apply herself more to her schoolwork was actually a reference to a piece of fanart I saw of Saeru (in disguise as Kenjirou) helping Ayano with her homework and subtly taking digs at her the whole time. I just thought of it while I was writing that paragraph and thought it'd be a neat reference. I can't find the Tweet but I'm hoping someone has a link to it!

Second off, that instance of Kenjirou almost ruining Saeru's plan is a bit of foreshadowing to another Kagepro fic I'm in the works of writing. It may not be the next Kagepro fic I write but it IS coming.

Thirdly, the whole meaning behind Azami not being able to die but still being killed. I know it sounds like the "People die when they are killed" meme but let me explain. I needed to think of a way Azami could still die but without anyone telling me "She's immortal, she can't die" so the way I went about it is, the Queen Snake was what let her be immortal. Because that was the snake that, in my fic, marked her as a god, she couldn't die. Once she gave that snake to Marry, she lost her god status, bringing her down to our level. However, because she was still a Gorgon, I made it so that she couldn't die by natural causes, I.E. starvation, sleep deprivation, etc. She was now an immortal mortal, meaning she couldn't die from natural causes BUT she could now be killed. I don't know if this makes a lot of sense but this is the best way I can describe it.

Finally, the ending. It only occurred to me when I was writing the build-up to it that I wanted to make it a sort of dark twist on Kagepro's themes of moving on after a loved one's death. Saeru decides to move on after Azami's death but he regarded her as dead years ago and was the one to kill her. I don't know if it worked the way I wanted it to but I tried my best.

I'm happy this didn't take that long unlike another past project of mine and I hope everyone who's read this enjoyed it!

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

     The never-ending world, or the Daze as it was now called, had undergone many changes over the years. It was only natural since it was ordered to swallow up any unfortunate souls that were unlucky enough to die on August 15th and the world needed to accommodate for its ever increasing number of occupants. Yet there were some things that never changed, no matter how much time had passed. Absence truly did make the heart grow fonder.

     He was in very familiar territory. Casually strolling through the dark woods revealed a large clearing where a small decrepit house stood. The moon’s radiance acted as if it were a spotlight, shining down upon it to let him know she was here. It may be an inferior replica but there was no mistaking it. Saeru was home.

     It had been several years since his departure from the Daze. The rest of his siblings were gone, having ventured out to the real world in their human vessels and he couldn’t blame them for leaving. Who’d want to stay in a place where the only company you had was a good-for-nothing has-been of a queen? That’s why he followed the example his four siblings set and escaped when the opportunity presented itself. He really wanted to thank them when he had the chance.

     The body he left in was a person by the name of Tateyama Kenjirou. A hardworking teacher and devoted family man, he and Saeru met when he and his wife were caught in a landslide. Saeru promised to bring her back if the man allowed him to reside in his body and he accepted his terms of the bargain. That was how their unlikely partnership began, union between human and snake.

     It felt simply amazing to have a body to control. While it had taken him some time to adapt and familiarize himself with human behavior, he nevertheless reveled in it. No longer was he a snake relegated to devising plans. He had the means to carry them out himself and no one would be none the wiser. At least, that’s what he believed before a certain idiotic girl proved him wrong.

     He had to give her some credit. Not only did she figure out most of his plan just by reading her father’s research but she learned of his existence all due to a small yet sloppy mistake. If she only applied that amount of effort into her schoolwork, then she wouldn’t have been as stupid as she led herself to believe. There was, however, one thing she didn’t take into account.

     She thought killing herself would stop him from going after everyone. What she didn’t think about was the advantage her death would give him. One less person to worry about ruining his plan and she left behind a perfectly traumatized helper. The damn brat was like putty in his hands; a few convincing threats to his precious “family” and a deal with the devil was made.

     But then the dear old professor kept butting into his business. There were several times over the past two years where he came out because he wanted to spend some “quality time” with the remainder of his family. There was one instance he could recall in which his plan was almost thwarted but Saeru was able to take back the reins. It was too easy to pull the wool over his partner’s eyes and trick him into thinking he was dreaming. It wasn’t like he was lying to him, he was just using the information he knew about humans to his benefit.

     Today was when his plan was truly enacted. All the necessary people had arrived, including his traitorous sibling. Konoha, as they were now called, seemed to have forgotten what the humans did to their real family all those years ago and had allied with them. Their compassion for them had its perks, though. It only took one well-aimed bullet to strike them down, leaving them open for a permanent takeover.

     The resulting bloodbath was nothing short of marvelous. Having a body, especially one such as his, meant much more fun and creative ways to play with his toys. Spines breaking as they hit concrete walls and organs hitting the floor with a wet slap was like music to his ears. He even ripped out a pathetic shut-in’s throat with his bare hands just because he could and it was oh so enjoyable to hear him choke on his own blood. Too bad it was over all too soon.

     The crybaby brat was left as the sole survivor. He knew what she was capable of and she was the essential component. Yet, he couldn’t help feeling a small sort of kinship with her, which he found funny. He was, in a way, her subject and she his queen but it felt as if they were equals. Perhaps, if he had her powers, he too could rewind time to the point he would’ve taken a different path. To spend more time with the one he loved above all else… That was a dream best left in the past.

     He decided to leave her be so she’d be able to mourn her losses. He needed to use the little time he had to take care of unfinished business. He fled from the scene by going through the portal she created in the midst of her despair.

     He found himself in what seemed to be a white void. The floor beneath him rippled when his feet touched the surface and he realized he was standing on water. His reflection stared back at him when he cast his eyes downward. The body his sibling graciously gifted to him allowed him to change it however he wanted and he liked the changes he made. A vessel specifically tailored just for him was such a wonderful thing and it was a shame to have to give it up.

     A pair of small black horns stuck out of long dark hair tied into a braid. Black scales painted the edges of his face and eyes, trailing down his neck before concealing themselves under the layers of clothes. He kept his red eyes and fangs from when he was a snake so he’d still be recognizable. Blood coated his hands and stained the only article of pristine white clothing he wore, which he hoped would intimidate his prey. She’d never see this coming.

     Finding an exit out of the void was simple. All he had to do was take a step and he was in an entirely different place. There were an endless amount of stairs and corridors leading to doors, most of what he could see on fire. The heat was surprisingly pleasant as he wandered around the seemingly limitless labyrinth. It was then he spotted a tangle of black hair with a sliver of red hastily entering one of the doors. With a rush of adrenaline running through his veins, he ran towards the door. It had been so long since he played his favorite game of cat and mouse.

     He chased her through many areas of the Daze. One was of a ruined city where the setting sun gave way too many shadows for her to hide in. Another was of an urban landscape, not unlike a major street intersection, where there were dozens of blood splatters decorating the asphalt. It was after he cut across a nighttime city he arrived at his destination.

     Mother was inside. The house she and her wretched human “family” lived and laughed in for the few years they stayed there. It was fitting for her and him to settle their issues in the same place their troubles began. She’ll regret leaving behind the ones that truly loved her.

     He walked up to the house. Overgrown grass crept over the foundation and ivy crawled all along the flaky walls. There were broken shards of glass inside the windows, which would make it hard for trespassers to sneak in without alerting anyone. Parts of the roof had collapsed inward and the front door was hanging on by a thread. Mother’s really let the place go, hasn’t she?

     He stopped just before the door. How did he want to approach this? She had to know he was here so there was no need in being stealthy. He then did the next best thing, which was to kick the door down till he was inside. He smashed through it, reducing it to mere splinters. That was easy.

     The room he was in now was the same room he proposed the idea of creating this world to Mother. It was empty, save for a few pieces of overturned furniture scattered about the place and debris from the roof. Moonlight shone down from above, illuminating the room, though it wasn’t necessary. He could see perfectly well in the dark, despite the limitations of his “human” body.

     There were two doors that stood in front of him. Beyond them were bedrooms, one being that brat Shion’s and the other Mother’s. It was a coin toss as to which room she was hiding in and he hated wasting time with trivial matters like this. Besides, even if he did end up picking the wrong choice, she wouldn’t get away undetected. His hearing was almost as good as hers and she knew that.

     An idea sprang into his mind to try luring her out. He stood at the wall separating the two rooms, wound up his fist, and punched it. The sheer power in the hit caused a crater to form in the wall as dust sprinkled down from the ceiling. He heard something fall from behind the left door and a sharp intake of breath. The corners of his mouth curved up as he tried to fight back a laugh. There she was.

     Keeping his excitement in check, he pushed open the door. Inside the room were the remains of a bed with two nightstands on either side of it and an empty window over to the right. He didn’t need the light coming in from a hole in the ceiling to see her. Mother sat in a corner of the room, her whole body shaking.

     She hadn’t changed at all. She still had the same cascade of raven hair tied up with a red ribbon, the same black dress. The same red eyes resembling his own were now staring at him in pure fear. It must’ve been quite the shock for her to see Saeru walking around and being able to express his moods in a more effective way. She’d finally know how much and how deep his feelings ran.

     “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Mother?” he asked, putting on a fake smile.

     When she didn’t respond, he continued on with, “Nothing to say to me? Not even a welcome home? I know the last time we talked was years ago but I thought you’d still have some love in your heart for me. But I guess not.”

     She still hadn’t said anything. He was getting rather annoyed at the silent treatment, even if it did bring him a modicum of amusement. Does she really think staying quiet in this situation will save her? Well, he had a way of making her talk and he deserved to brag about his accomplishments.

     “If you can’t already tell, I paid a visit to the real world,” he said, noting the sudden pique of interest. “It’s changed so much since our time out there. I’ve met so many interesting people during my trip, including the kids my siblings are inhabiting the bodies of. I even got the chance to meet your successor, what was her name again? Ah, right, Marry.”

     He saw the quick flash of anger across her face as she asked, “What did you do to her?”

     “You can rest easy,” he replied, his temper beginning to flare up. “I haven’t laid a finger on that crybaby brat’s head. She’s all right, physically, at least.”

     It was then her eyes wandered down to his blood-soaked hands. Gone was the anger as horror came to replace it at the grisly sight. He wondered when she’d notice that and he was pleased to know her reaction was how he predicted it to be. Her imagination had to be running wild with all the ways that blood got on his hands. The temptation of telling her his gruesome acts was there but this was more fun.

     “Her mind, though, must be forever scarred,” he said with a dissonant smile. “I imagine her heart shattered to pieces after I killed her friends.”

     “Why are you doing this?!” she demanded, her teary eyes full of fury. “Why must you hurt me so?”

     All the fun he was having at her expense evaporated. Was she being serious? Did she really have the gall to ask why he was doing all this? Maybe it was time to remind her of the fault she held in this.

     “I think the better question is, why did you choose them over us? Why did you abandon us?” He crouched down and rested his cheek on his hand.

     “What are you talking about? I never abandoned you or your siblings! I tried my best to have the two most important things in my life get along without any issue.” She gestured to him with her hand. “You were the only one who had a problem with it!”

     His eyes narrowing, he asked in indignation, “How could you expect me to not have a problem with it? How could you forget all the pain, all the suffering, all the torment the humans dealt on to you? How could you run off with that man and bear his child after everything they’ve done to you?”

     It was at this point she stood up. He did as well, noticing the hard glint of stubbornness in her eyes. He already knew what was coming and he didn’t want to hear the same old, tired speech.

     “Tsukihiko was different. He was kind to me, he cared for me.” She put a hand on her chest, where her heart was. “He loved me. He was treated the same way I was so---”

     “So you thought you and him were the same? Please,” he interrupted, scoffing at the ridiculousness of the thought. “You and that man were never the same and you know why? He was but a mere mortal and you a god. You will never belong with the humans, no matter how much you try and forget that fact.”

     “What do you want from me? An apology, is that it?” she asked, exasperated. He wanted much more than empty platitudes.

     “What I want is for you to understand exactly how much you’ve hurt me.” He took a couple steps toward her, causing dust to rain down on top of him. “You refused to heed my warnings, took that brat’s side over mine, and you tried to leave me behind in this world. Who does that to someone they once claimed to love? Someone whose only crime was loving them?

     “You’ve become the very thing you’ve never wanted to be.” He locked eyes with her and gave voice to all the pain and scorn he felt. “You’re a monster.”

     It was as if he stabbed her through the gut with a knife. Tears spilled over as she fell to her knees, holding her head in her hands. It was bad enough for the humans to call her that when they knew nothing about her. It must’ve been like a betrayal to hear that come from someone she once considered to be her closest friend. Still, he got a dark sense of satisfaction seeing her break down. It served her right to feel only a fraction of the pain he’s dealt with for years.

     “And yet--” he paused as she looked up at him-- “despite everything you did to me, I still love you. I was created to serve you and be with you for however long you wanted but I grew to genuinely love you. How could I not?”

     She withdrew further into the corner after he stepped closer. The question he wanted, needed to ask leapt into his mind. A simple yes or no question and whatever her answer was would determine what he’d do next.

     “It’s because of my love for you I ask,” he began, paying close attention to her face, “if you still hold some fondness for the humans. Do you still love your family?”

     Without any hesitance in her voice, she replied with, “Of course I do. I’ll always love them. Tsukihiko, Shion, Marry…I love them all from the bottom of my heart.”

     That was the answer he feared to hear. Her saying that proved to him she was too far gone and needed to be put out of her misery. They took everything away from her, from her happiness to her sanity. It’s because he loved her he’d be willing to give her the sweet release she deserved.

     He started walking towards her. She tried to crawl away from him but found herself cornered with no means of escape. A wicked grin split across his face as he came into the moon’s silvery ray of light. He stopped just short of her, towering above her small, trembling form.

     “What are you going to do to me?” she asked, scared for her life. “Whatever it is, I can’t die.”

     “Oh, Mother…” He knelt down in front of her and cupped her cheeks. Her scales were smooth to the touch as he wiped away her tears. “You’re right in that you can’t die. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be killed.”

     His smile growing ever larger, he said, “You lost your immortality the moment you passed on your crown.”

     Her eyes widened in horror as his hands slid down to her neck. He could feel her pulse thudding against his palms, his slender fingers wrapped around her throat. She softly whimpered and he leaned in close. He whispered into her ear his final words before her denouement.

     “Goodnight, Mother.”

     It wasn’t hard to crush her windpipe. Her nails dug into his arms in a desperate attempt to fight back but he merely brushed them off. He knew she was close to death when her eyes started to roll to the back of her head. Then he had an idea to end this in something more similar to his style.

     Her skin began to tear apart as he pulled her head up like a weed. The sound of her neck breaking echoed in the empty house. He finally ripped her head off her shoulders, blood pouring out of the stump as he stood up. Her body slumped onto the floor, the moon’s light reflected off the crimson pool.

     Mother’s bright red eyes were now dull and lifeless. Her mouth lolled open and what little saliva she had trickled out of the corners. He could see just a sliver of her vertebrae sticking out of the bottom of her neck. He untied the ribbon holding her hair up, wiped the spit away with his sleeve, and shut her eyes. Her dark tresses felt soft on his skin as he touched their foreheads together.

     “We’ll be together forever, right, Mother?” he said with a depraved smile before crazed laughter spilled out of his mouth like a stream.

     It was only a matter of waiting now before time was reset. How far back it’d go, he didn’t know. Even if it was as far back to the beginning, he’d remember the events of this loop an do them again. He’d do them again and again to his heart’s content and no one would be able to stop him.

     The only thing he wouldn’t commit again was his act of matricide. It was a one time thing and it was done to give him “closure” or whatever the humans called it. Mother warped into someone he didn’t recognize and he needed to accept that the person he knew had died a long time ago. At least he’ll always have his memories of her kept close to his heart.

     It was time to look forward and move ahead to the future. Whatever the next summers brought, he was sure to enjoy every last bit.