#they maek me SICK

[milocksz]

i HATE gay poeple

[endrimer]

MY BINDER ARRIVED!!!!1 YIPPEPEEE!!!!!!!!! have normal in his binder as a celebration :DD

[moving-to-dreamwinged]

sometimes whe n i look a t pictures of him i feel genuinelty safe and almost at home , even. okay it think thats quite enough please forget i posted this

[imastrangeone98]

Homecoming

(A/N: boothill my cyborg my love my life my everything-)

WARNING: fem!reader, SMUT SMUT FRESH OFF THE PLATE MINORS GTFO ILL WHOOP YO BUTTS, probably ooc!boothill but whatever it's fine lmao, his exact birth name isn't known so I didn't put a name for him- if there is one I'll replace it; but I found some X art that called his baby girl "cherry" and I really liked it so I'll use that, and way too much plot as always

"Well, hello there! What'cha lookin' at, sweetie?" You bend down to the little girl's eye level, peeking at where the child's gaze is locked on, then smiling in understanding. "You like those ones? They're moon lilies; they're flowers that are really special!"

"Pe... shal?" the little girl babbles, and you laugh.

"Yes, dear. Special." You pluck one of the flowers, beautiful with light blue petals and golden pollen, and offer it to her. "They mean loyalty, and undying devotion, because they only grow in places they like, and they won't grow anywhere else."

"Loya..." the girl mumbles. You chuckle and pick her up, carefully tucking the flower behind her ear.

"Now, where's your mama? Or your papa? I'm sure they're worried sick about-"

"Cherry! Sweet pea, where ya at?!"

Your ears prick, and the girl giggles and claps at the sound. "Well, I guess we found him."

You maneuver through the crowd until you find the source of the call: a man, tall and lean, with flowing black-and-white hair and piercing gray eyes.

Oh. He's beautiful.

The little girl squeals with delight at the sight of her father, and his head whips towards your direction. He sprints over to you and takes the child in his arms, pressing her close to his chest.

"There ya are, ya little rascal! What'd I tell ya about runnin' off?! Ya had me worried sick!" He kisses her forehead, then looks at you. "Thanks, I would've lost her without ya."

"Of course!" You wave it off, hoping he doesn't notice your hot cheeks. "I will say, she has good taste in flowers! If you'd ever like to buy a bouquet, you should bring her along!"

"Flowers? Oh..." He looks at his daughter, finally noticing the moon lily tucked in her hair. His cheeks flush a bright red. "Aw, man, I'm sorry for the trouble, I can pay for it-"

"Oh, don't worry about it, it's on the house! But I do hope this won't be the last time I see her!" You wave at her, and she giggles.

The man laughs at that. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind." He then stretches out his hand to you. "I'm [???]."

"(Y/N)."

He repeats your name slowly, thoughtfully, then smirks. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, lady."

"I'll be looking forward to it, cowboy."

Your eyes crack open.

Instead of a bustling marketplace, you're in a small shack in the middle of nowhere.

Just a memory.

You rise, body aching with fatigue and heartache, but you force yourself to push it to the side.

There's work to be done. You grab your phone and send a message.

ML: The USB is ready. I'll leave it at the usual place.

BH: ca nt maek it cme her

You stare at the coordinates your contact sent you with a groan.

You don't do face-to-face, too much risk. And the information you collected is time-sensitive; you're not sure if you'll be able to make it to the abandoned planet of Mavorosa in time for it to still be valuable, and your spaceship isn't one meant for such great lengths.

But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: Oswaldo Schneider is likely to make an appearance at the upcoming IPC Centennial Gala, and BH has proven themself capable of terminating that sick bastard.

You know you're not strong enough to do it yourself, but BH is. And anyone capable of taking down the son of a bitch who destroyed your home, your planet, your lover, is worthy of your trust.

So you bite your lip and bear it. You'll work something out.

ML: ok. I'll be there tomorrow @ 18:00, don't be late.

BH: k

You roll your eyes. Never mind.

With a heavy sigh, you carefully take out the picture/ only one you have of him. With your little girl in one arm and the other wrapped around your waist, he stares back at you with a grin. Bright, beautiful, alive.

"Don't worry, darling," you whisper, tracing the lines of his cheek and hair on the photograph. "We're one step closer to our goal. That bastard's a dead man walking now that we got BH on the case. They're good; strong and capable, I know they'll get the job done for us."

You gently press your lips over his image. And for a brief moment, you let yourself pretend that the paper is a good replacement for his callous skin.

"Once everything's done, I'll go over and join you and our girl. We'll be together again, I'm sure."

He smiles eternally at you, and you find yourself smiling back.

"Wish me luck, darling. Help me be strong."

[...]

His little girl adores you.

Each time he comes by the market, the first thing she whines for is to see the flowers. And you always indulge her, lifting her in your arms so you can show her all the pretty little blooms you have in your small cart. You give names to each one, tell her what they mean as though she understands you.

And you laugh. And he finds himself thinking that his little girl is a good judge of character, because he's starting to adore you too.

And it's becoming obvious, since Nick and Gray give him the occasional nab and jab, wondering out loud when they're going to see him get married and give them another grandchild. His siblings too, always cackling and yapping about how he might be the first to hang up his boots and settle down.

He rolls his eyes, but he's not too displeased by the idea. You're soft and sweet, with a kick of spice to match- the thought of settling down with you and Cherry on the farm is surprisingly sweet.

So he leaves Cherry to her loving grandparents and invites you out on a moonlit stroll through the hillside meadow, the one with the perfect view of the blooming moon lilies and the spring lake that reflects the starry night sky.

"I've never been here before," you gasp in awe, eyes aglow as you absorb the scenery. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," he murmurs, gaze fixated on you and the moonlight in your eyes. "You are."

You turn your head, and your eyes meet. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"N- nothin'!" He faces the lake, and hopes you don't notice his red cheeks. "Said nothin'."

You laugh, and god, he melts at the sound. Then you rub the back of your head, and turn away, blushing. "I... I think you're very beautiful too."

His brain short-circuits. "Pretty... you think I'm..." Then he gasps dramatically. "So you did hear that! You sneaky mouse!"

He playfully tackles you, and you both laugh and chortle as you wrestle one another to the ground. But then he opens his eyes and finds himself on top of you, hands intertwined, faces so close he can feel your breath, smell your moon lily scent.

The moonlight bathes you in silver, and god, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you senseless, run his callous hands on your soft skin, wrap your plush thighs around his hips and-

"Can I...?" he whispers, weak and wanting. "Just... just a taste, I swear..."

You stare up at him, eyes so big and wide that he swears the moon itself disappeared to light up your gaze, that he doesn't notice you untangling your hands from his until you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Just a taste, cowboy?" you tease. "You don't wanna try... anything else?"

You raise your hips and grind on his pelvis, and he moans and kisses you, hard.

Eager hands dart across skin, tearing off clothes. He runs his hands over your plush tummy, hooks your thighs around his hips and moans when he finally enters you.

He'll never forget this moment. Even if he were to die and be reborn, he'll never forget you. Your pleasured moans as he slides himself inside your tight heat, your teary smile as you open your arms to let him press his chest against yours, your starry eyes so full of love and desire that mirror his own.

You make love for hours, the stars and moon lilies your only witnesses.

"-hill. Boothill."

His eyes crack open.

Instead of a blooming moon lily meadow, he's in the underground repair shop.

Just a memory.

He rises with a groan, mechanical joints creaking from the lack of use. "Done already? I was havin' quite the nice dream."

The mechanic rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I can tell. Anyway, speed upgrades are done; the rest of your body is the same- sensory receptors are good, memory chip still intact, et cetera."

She rambles on and on; he's used to tuning her out at this point. As long as his body is in peak condition, he doesn't need to know what else extra she's stacked on him.

"-and the dick. Make sure to test it out at some point."

He blinks. "What'd ya say?"

She groans. "The dick, Boothill. Make sure to test it."

"What dick are ya talking about? If you're trying to say I'm a piece of shi-"

"I added a dick attachment to your body, dumbass." She points towards his crotch. "I had an extra one that I really need to get rid of, so I'm giving it to you. Use it, rip it up and toss it, I don't care- just get it off my back!"

And with no further explanation, the mechanic practically throws him out the store, slamming the door with extra ferocity. Boothill lies on the ground, blinking a few times in shock, before checking his pants, and lo and behold, there is a silicone dick attachment. Sensory receptors and everything, he hisses when he pokes lightly at it, the wires in his body jittering at the unfamiliar sensation.

Doe eyes and a teary smile flash in the back of his mind.

He suddenly jumps to his feet with a vengeance and slams on the door. "You cheating, deceitful shirt-bag! Take this fudging thing off right now! You hear me, woman?! Take this shirt off right now!"

He's no doubt starting a commotion, a crowd drawing in to witness his rage-induced ranting and raving. But then his phone dings, and he's forced to put a pin in it, taking out the shitty device to hear the alarm: Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Be there or be square!

Ah, shit.

He can't miss this meeting, not even to blow a hole right between that shitty mechanic's eyebrows. ML is too valuable to lose, having provided him with incredibly detailed information on Oswaldo Schneider and the IPC time and again. Almost as if they have an agenda against that sick bastard as well.

Well. The enemy of an enemy is a friend, right? He'll take what he can get. And if they end up turning their back, well, he's sure his bullet is faster than their legs.

So he leans to the door, whispers a deadly "I'll be back for you, baby," and dashes to his spaceship to head over to Mavorosa.

And as he's prepping for flight, he looks over at the picture on the dashboard.

It's the only one Boothill has of you. The three of you, together- him holding little Cherry in one arm and your waist in the other, you wrapping your arms around him and your baby girl with your sweet smile and moon lily eyes.

He brushes a metal fingertip over your face.

"Just hang in there, moon lily," he whispers, a clump in his throat. "We're one step closer; ML's got some good intel on the son of a nice lady that destroyed our planet- our home. That destroyed you."

Boothill lost the ability to cry long ago, but the corners of his eyes itch all the same. He gnaws on his lip so hard, drops of blue blood trickle down his chin.

"I swear to you, darlin', I'm gonna get our revenge against that beautiful bench. He'll wish he never set his filthy sights on our home once I'm through with him." He gently picks up the photo and presses his lips to your image. "And then I'll come home. To Cherry, Nick and Gray, my siblings. I'll come home to you. We'll get started on that house we talked about, maybe some runts so Cherry can be a big sister..."

He swallows, then carefully puts the photo back on the dashboard. The lump doesn't disappear, so once the spaceship is cruising through the stars to Mavorosa, he sets it on autopilot and descends into the belly to go to his chest of valuables. He opens it up and delicately takes out the moon lily crown.

The one he was working on for you, a promise of his undying devotion. Before the world exploded in fire and ash. Before the IPC decimated his family, the moon lily meadow... decimated you.

He closes his eyes and raises it to his face. Even preserved, the petals are still soft to the touch, and smell just as lovely.

Just like you.

He won't let your death be in vain. He won't.

The lump in his metal chest morphs into rage.

Boothill opens his eyes.

[...]

If not for the Stellaron, Mavorosa would be a wonderful planet. A once lively city now stands abandoned, its skyscrapers and glass structures being embraced by nature once again.

You stand on the rooftop, mask and voice synthesizer on, fidgeting with the USB, simply observing everything when-

"So this is what you look like. I thought you'd be bigger," a male voice calls behind you.

Your body freezes. That voice... it sounds like...

No. You must be wrong. Maybe you've been so lonely that every male voice just starts to sound like your deceased lover.

"I thought you'd be here earlier," you reply with your warped voice. "Time is precious to you and me both, BH."

"Sorry, had to wrap up some... personal stuff on my end. I'm here now, ain't I?" The oh-so-familiar yet distant voice chuckles. "Well. Business ain't gonna settle itself. Where's the drive?"

"Where's the payment? We both know I don't work free."

He huffs. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Don't worry, I got your cash. Just fork over the drive, no need to make things difficult, not after everything, yeah? Haven't I earned your trust by now?"

"You realize how difficult face-to-face is? It takes a substantial amount of effort to get this intel, not to mention the possibility of being-" You turn around in your exasperation-

And you drop the USB.

Tall and metal. Flowing black-and-white hair. Piercing gray-and-red eyes. Sharp teeth.

"Y'know, I've always wanted to be a gunslinger, just like Nick," [???] cackled, whipping out his revolver and making dramatic poses with it. "Maybe be one of those boothills of legend."

"I'd rather you not," you murmured as you brushed off some dirt off of his shirt. "Those boothills always died on their feet. I'd rather you not die at all."

He softened, and with a smile, he put down his gun and sidled up to you, bringing you in his embrace, warm and strong. You breathed in his comforting scent and sighed happily.

"Don't you worry about that, hun." He kissed your cheek, then square on your mouth. "I ain't goin' nowhere. You can't get rid of me that easy!"

BH. Boothill.

How could you not notice earlier?

Your mouth dries. You can't move a muscle.

It's him. Mechanical, but very much alive.

"Hey, watch the merchandise!" he hisses, pointing at the fallen USB. "I need that, don't you forget it!"

"How are you..." you weakly gasp, then you grab the USB. "Here. Take it. Forget the money."

You slide it over to him, and he stops it with his foot. But his eyes narrow at you.

"Whaddaya mean, 'How are you,' huh?" He walks towards you, slow and leisurely, like a coyote cornering its helpless prey. "You say that like you're shocked I'm still around. What'd ya do, huh? Sell me off to the IPC?"

"No!" you cry, shocked. "I would never-!"

"Why so jittery, partner? What are you hiding?" He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "How about a show of trust, huh? You take off that cute little mask of yours, I don't shoot you dead, and we keep our little arrangement goin'. Sound fair?"

You turn around, eyes searching for an escape route.

Aeons above, you need to leave. You can't show him your face. You can't remind him of everything he lost, the people he couldn't save. You can't hurt him any more than you already have. You're afraid. You want to hide. You're selfish. You want to tell him. You're in love.

You want to die. You want the ground to swallow you alive. You want to hole away in your shack and wallow in your grief, descend into a spiral of what-ifs: what if you tried harder to find him? What if you searched the whole IPC ship you snuck on trying to resolve things peacefully until you found him? What if you ran out earlier and tried to bring him with you? What if, what if, what if-

"Now that you got some measure of my grit," he whispers in your ear, suddenly standing behind you, "I'm sure you know how this ends, yeah? C'mon now, take it off."

You pant heavily, head dizzy with his close proximity- god, even with the metal, he still smells the same. "I- I can't-"

"Feelin' shy? Alright, I'll do it for you."

"No! Please, no!" You swat at his hands and try to break free of his iron grip, but he grabs you hard and pulls you against his chest.

He cackles, metallic and bitter. "And here I thought I finally had an ally, but no- you're just like the rest of 'em shirt-bags." He whips out his revolver and raises it to your head. "Take. It. Off. Now."

You want to cry. You don't want to hurt him.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you take off your mask...

And his gun falls to the floor.

Doe eyes. Soft cheeks. Scars. Floral scent.

"What made you wanna be a florist?" he asked you once, helping you water the rainbow roses. "They're pretty and all, don't get me wrong. But don't you want somethin' more exciting?"

"On the contrary, I think they're very exciting," you explained. "They all have their unique personality; some need lots of love and care, and others don't mind if you go missing for a week or two. There's flowers that only stay with you for so long, and there are others that will love you for as long as you'll let them."

He grunted. "Sounds like you'd do just fine without me."

"Oh, please." You put down your watering can and embraced him from behind. And just as planned, he melted at your touch. "Moon lilies love the moon, but they need the sun to grow. And that's exactly what you are to me."

"The moon?"

"The sun."

ML. Moon lily.

It's so obvious, how did he not realize it sooner?

He lets you go. You immediately stumble away from him, hands covering your face in shame.

Boothill has no lungs, yet he feels his chest collapse.

"(Y/N)?" he calls to you, weak and desperate. "Moon lily? That's really you, right?" He reaches out, hand shaking. But when he grazes your shoulder, you hunch further into yourself. "I- I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to scare ya. Please..."

Boothill willingly let go of his humanity. But right here, right now, he wishes he still had his skin.

"Please, darlin'... turn around? Let me see you, please."

You shiver, tears spilling down your cheeks, and slap a hand over your mouth. You can't hurt him, you'll never hurt him. "I can't... I can't see you."

His body wants to collapse. He wants to grab you by your shoulders and kiss you senseless, look at you from head to toe and sing praises to Lan for protecting you and keeping you safe.

But you won't see him. You won't turn around.

"Why?" he whines, like a pleading child. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not the same anymore!" you sob. "I'm not your moon lily anymore! I don't want to remind you of everything you lost! I don't want to hurt you anymore! You don't know the things I've done, the blood I spilled, all to destroy the IPC!" You sink to the floor in despair, echoes of the dead haunting you, swarming your mind. "I can't bear to see you hate me for being alive when everyone else died. I already hate myself so much, hated myself because I couldn't save anyone else! I thought I lost you, but now I realize I didn't search for you at all! I didn't even try to find you, I..."

You cry and sob and scream. You pound the floor with your fists. You pull at your hair, your clothes, your skin, so hard that drops of blood water the cement.

Boothill's eyes itch with tears that will never spill. His chest burns with a profound grief that will never truly be his own.

"You think I don't feel that way about myself?" he finally whispers. Bravely, he takes a step closer to you. "From the moment the bombs fell, I was never the same. I changed too much to be that man you met at the market- hell, I don't even have the body anymore." He sits just behind you, close to touch but not close enough. "The blood I spilled would be enough to fill oceans. But I'm still here. I still remember everything. I still remember you." His hand, feather-light, brushes your arm. You don't pull away. "I thought I lost you. When I went back to the ranch and couldn't find anyone there, I thought you were one of the piles of ashes on the ground." He chokes as he speaks, but he pushes on. "I never hated myself more. I failed to save them; I failed to save you."

You shake your head, but he gently rests his head on your back, right between your shoulder blades. He breathes you in- dust, machine oil, and moon lilies.

You smell so alive.

"How could you think I'd ever hate you," he whimpers, "when there's no one I hate more than myself? No, sweetheart, I could never hate you. I never will. Nothing you do could ever make me hate you. So please, turn around..." He grabs a fistful of your shirt and tugs. "I'm begging you. Let me see your face, please."

Your heart breaks. You couldn't fathom how much he suffered, how lonely he must have felt, the self-loathing that coursed through his wires every time he looked in the mirror.

Just like you.

"Don't hate yourself," you sniffle, rubbing your eyes. "Nothing you do could ever make me hate you either. What happened wasn't your fault; you didn't know what the IPC was going to do until it happened."

He lets out a small huff. "I could easily say the same about you. It wasn't your fault either- neither of us could've known until it was too late."

You exhale shakily. "Do you really mean it? Not hating me?"

Boothill smiles. "Every word."

For a moment, you're afraid. What if he doesn't like what he sees? You know he's not a superficial man, but you're still not the sweet florist he remembers anymore.

You suck in a deep breath. He's not the same man you remember, but he's still your cowboy, your Boothill.

Slowly, you turn around, and...

Oh. His face is just how you remember. His beautiful silky hair, the red targets in his eyes still framed within familiar stormy gray. When you reach out with trembling hands to cup his smooth cheeks, he melts in your touch just how he always did.

And melt he does. He nearly moans at your soft touch, pressing his cheek into your palms to keep your focus on him. He drinks up every detail of your face and commits it to memory- your beautiful moony eyes and the dark circles under them, the faintest hint of a scar curling from the edge of your jawline into your neck, your soft hair that smells of moon lilies.

You're still you, the sweet florist he fell in love with all those years ago. And now you've returned to him, and this time, he'll never let you go.

He sits you on his lap and embraces you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and savoring your scent. You wrap your legs around his waist and make yourself comfortable, admiring his metal body, tracing patterns into the steel.

"I love you," he whispers with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I never stopped loving you, not for one second."

"I'm sorry I didn't look for you," you confess. "But I kept you in my heart every day. Even when we weren't together, you were always a part of me."

"I'm here now." He pulls away to admire you, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he gazes at you with what you could only describe as reverence. "I'm right here with you. I'm not leaving you ever again."

Boothill didn't realize how much his world lacked color until he kisses you, but now he swears he can see every color in the spectrum flash before his eyes. You taste just how he remembers, sweet and salty with your tears. When you pull away for air, he dives back in to reclaim your lips, hooking a hand around your neck to keep you in place.

He won't let you slip from his fingers again. And you clearly feel the same way, because you tangle your hands with his hair and tug him closer, pulling him on top of you.

"Please don't be a dream," you cry in his shoulder, and it damn near breaks his heart. "I don't want to wake up if it is."

"Darlin', those dreams are better off in Penacony; I'm right here. Does this," he kisses your cheek, "or this," he squeezes your ass and relishes in your squeal, "or this..." He grinds into you, and you gasp, squeezing his shoulders with a whimper. And fuck, maybe he was a bit too harsh with that mechanic, he should send her flowers or something, because your face contorted in shock and a hint of reawakened pleasure is a drug he will happily become addicted to. He nibbles on your ear and whispers, "Any of that feel like a dream to you?"

"...No." You stare at him, moon lily eyes abloom with hearts and love and fuck, he wants you, he needs you.

And your eyes are reflected in his, because you're so captivated by how the targets in his gaze morph into blood red hearts that drip with love and devotion. You want to give him everything, bring him under your skin and into your heart so you'll never be separated again.

"I love you." You smile and open your arms for him. "Let's never be apart again."

Boothill's brain short-circuits. He can only remember the minutiae of what happens next- tearing off your clothes, your hands running across his metallic chest, his sensors working in overdrive to let him process your touch, your smell, your taste, as he kisses, nibbles and sucks his way across the canvas of your body to reach your core.

But just as he's about to taste your liquid gold, you tug on his hair. He immediately moves up to your face, nuzzling into your neck to comfort you.

"What's wrong, moon lily? I'll be gentle, I promise," he reassures you, but you bite your lip and shake your head.

"I know. But I don't want that right now; I want you to fuck me."

You spread your legs, once again revealing your soaking pussy to his hungry eyes, and fuck, his mouth goes dry at the exquisite feast before him. And his new dick feels the same way, as the electricity in his body jolts it to life, straining against his pants.

He swallows. "Yeah, baby. I want you too, but I gotta prep ya, or it's gonna hurt."

"Don't care!" you whine, and on Lan's Arrow, you're so cute with your pouting and wailing. "I need you, Hillie, I need it, I need it-!"

Ah, fuck. He can't say no to you, and he won't start now.

So he rips off his pants, and after a few quick pumps of his new cock (yeah, he'll send some flowers to the mechanic as a thank-you), he grabs hold on your hips and thrusts forward.

You shriek at the burning sensation, scrambling for grip on his shoulders as he penetrates deeper and deeper. Fuck, it's been so long since you had sex of any kind, and it shows. You moan loudly, shamelessly, so sensitive to the buttons his cock presses perfectly against your walls, that you cum instantly when he bottoms out, hips meeting yours with a soft thud.

"Fuuudge," Boothill groans, each syllable drawn out in pleasure, "you're so tight, sugar~ I can't even move..."

His brain might just melt from the overload of sensations. Your pussy's so tight, so wet, he's damn sure he near ascended to aeonhood. And your face is so adorable when cumming, he makes sure to engrave every part of it into his neurochip and brush the hair out of your eyes, moving his hips in slow, shallow thrusts, guiding you out of the afterglow.

When you finally blink the stars out of your eyes, you see Boothill hovering above you, rubbing your cheek with hearts in his eyes.

"God, you're so fudgin' gorgeous." He grins, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, and a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. "Think you got another for me?"

You whine, "Still sensi- AH!"

He immediately sets a vigorous pace, hips slamming against yours in a hypnotic rhythm. He fixates on your breasts, and leans over to take a hard nipple in his mouth to suck and lick and nibble. You squeal and pull on his hair. He bites your skin in retaliation.

"Easy, moon lily," he moans, quickly stifling it with a kiss. "Hold on to me."

He grabs under your arms and lifts you onto his lap. His cock sinks impossibly deeper inside you, the tip nudging at your cervix. With a shriek, you bite his neck to try and ease the discomfort, but it only excites him more. With a guttural groan, he thrusts up into your sopping hole, bouncing you up and down with rough hands to set an even rougher pace.

You're still so sensitive; too much, too fast, and his cock fits so snugly inside you that you're already spiraling towards another release. But you don't want to make that journey alone, you want Boothill beside you.

So you grab his face and devour his mouth, pressing your tongue against his to savor his metallic taste. He moans against your lips, hips stuttering in an effort to keep up with you.

"Wanna make you feel good," you pant heavily. You carefully slide up and down on his thick cock, head thrown back as it hits your sweet spot. "Wanna... wanna cum with you!"

"Y- you are, baby," he groans against your neck, each word punctuated with a deep thrust. "You're makin' me feel so- darn- good-"

You're so close, you can see the faintest glimmer of stars again. Or maybe that was the sparks from his body as it overworks to keep his sensors running, so he can keep feeling you, tasting you, fucking you.

"Hillie," you gasp when the stars start to overwhelm you. "Hillie, I-"

"I know, baby, let go, I'm right with ya." He kisses you, over and over, thrusts sloppy as he chases his high, sensors working overdrive, wires sparking to further push him over the edge. "I'm- fudge, fudge, fudge-!"

He chokes, and you both come undone together, chasing that relentless wave of pleasure side by side. Stars collide and burst in showers of gold and silver, and your strength all but fails you, so you collapse in Boothill's arms, rubbing your cheek on his cool chest.

He catches his breath, letting his sensors rest as he basks in that afterglow. His wires are probably fried after such an intense sensory overload, but he can't bring himself to give a damn. Not when you're sitting so pretty in his arms, eyes just barely able to stay open.

You're so cute when you're sleepy, it's hard to not bite your cheek like he used to do. But tonight, he'll be generous and resist the temptation; you need your rest.

He runs a hand through your hair, and he once again finds himself wishing he still had his skin. But he sets that aside, preferring to be lost in your sleepy smile instead.

"Love you, Hillie," you coo drowsily, head nodding off.

"I love you more, moon lily," he whispers back with a kiss to your forehead.

In a moment, he'll bring you on his spaceship and clean you up, then tuck you in the spare bunk next to his charging port. He'll have to look at that USB you painstakingly put together for him sooner or later.

But for now, right here, he's not going anywhere.

His moon lily came back to him.

Boothill has finally returned home.

[Post-Credit]

"What the actual hell is this..." the mechanic sighs as she stares at the large bouquet of blue flowers.

She wonders if she should toss them out before she notices the card.

Thanks for the added bonus, Doc! - BH & ML

Her eyebrows raise. The handwriting's too nice and legible to be that Galaxy Ranger's, so...

She chuckles. "I figured it'd come in handy sooner or later."

She sets the bouquet on her desk and continues on with her work.

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

A/N: holy shirtballs BOOOTHILL MY LOVE AAAAAAAHSHDHDBSK I LOVE HIM SO MUCH LIKE I NEVER LOVED A CHARACTER BEFORE

...if only he loved me back just the slightest, cuz I lost 50/50 and went hard pity to get him. But I did win his lightcone so I guess it's even...?

[brodyfoxxsmassivetits]

they maek me SICK

yadda yadda laur is my laurel design their NB wow!!

dumb little doodle and old art fermm 2023 :9!!

Been finding all sorts of silly stuff RIFE for redraw potential buttt actually I cat be bothered 🤓

Eduardo genuinely being a bigot is probably in character but he is ONLY upset because that'd make him gay..like wym he has to say partner instead of girlfriend now he's cooked

[sockspots]

ang sakit ng ulo ko ayaw ko na dito please natatakot ako sa lahat i feel like im failing and i'm a shitty person to everyone and everything and i don't know how to talk to think to speak to communicate with other people i don't know how to comprehend understand anything i feel so out of place and not real i don't think i deserve anything i have and yet im so greedy but i can't just not exist anymore because people spent money time effort on me and it would just be a waste if i don't repay them or use it fully but i just can't anymore i'm so sick of myself and everything around me i feel like idon't knwo i forgot i just get overhwlemed and overstimulated why can't i interact normally and exist normally without being so fucking sensitive with everything why can't i push myself to do something that will benefit me adn those aruond me i just sit and lay down doing nothing just rotting all day i dont even do the hobbies i love anymore i miss creating art and obsercing it i dont think im improving anymore im just becoming a shell i hate myself so much i just know other people deserve what i have more than i do I HATE MYESELF PLELASE pagod na ako sa alaht please i don't know who to talk to and my thoughts are consuming me i really think i need a professional to hear it and not my partner we're still young and i m preety surue they wouldn;t nkwo what to do with that information and i don't want to make them think im a bad person even though that's really selfish and bad and self centered ors omehing why do i thinka nd do these things im so sick of it and myself it maeks my rbain hurt i just want to stab it and make it suht the fuck up or seomthign why is it so ohard to exist i feel ike im just a burden to everyone adn taking up their spae i shoilndt think like this but it's so difficult not to and i just want to evaporate so bad i dont do anything gppd

[imaslothandsowhat]

ministry of health officially announced the return of 'masks regime'. and me and my mom and my dad are all feeling sick, exhausted, but i literally dont know how we got sick and with what. my mom is sick like a cold flu, my dad keeps sweating and feels exhausted. i feel exhausted too, my body is aching but not in a flu kind of way, but still. my head hurts and i want to sleep all the time (but i dont lmao its another topic). its pissing me off!! like bitch !!! wtf happened!!!!

i keep postponing doing any work. i cant get to write my essays, i fear of writing horribly and then getting disappointed in myself. i also cant bring myself to write my fics bcos... i either have a writer's block or im also fearing this disappointment, plus i really dont like whatever comes out of my pen. i also feel exhausted 24/7 which might be another big reason.

im gonna sleep early tonight, just sleep, try to not think of naything. im so tired. i hope i'll get better soon. i wanna write smthng and get feedback but i cant bring msyelf to finish anything to publish and it makes me mad at myself so it brings negative emotions and it becomes a vicious cycle.

also the whole ordeal of showering is exhausting. but i must.

at least i have various books to keep me company. i think i need to read smthng creative so i can get inspiration. i kept watching youtube videos lately, movies. doesnt bring creative writing out of me.

i also cant find the right music ™ that would make me feel better. everything sounds bland, boring, horrible, old. idek what i want at this point. my hand and shoudler ACHE from crochetting so im givin myself some time of rest. this state of my health and my mind maeks me go insane.

i suppose i need jsut to rest without doing anything but its hard. my midn doesnt rest, thoughts keep bugging me. all the 'i must i must i hsould' make me feel horrible. cant let go. plus my mom keeps pestering me with my essays. not so often but still. its on the back of my mind and makes me go insane a little. i have sm to read and to do, academic knoweldge wise, that i feel so powerless and tiny and helpless. idek.

i think im jsut exhausted mentally, exhausted physically. its a long rant. i cant get anything proper out. i think i need to sleep to feel better. rest. not think . just enjoy life in whatever state it is now.

[the-firebird69]

The Longest Yard- Turley alias Dalip Singh

and it is a sensative piece. but it is about our son. and he is suppsoed to be out to lunch  and work for macs sorta.  and have africans nose out of joint his fault. and they say they do it now and no  premature ok.  and this uns frist and they dont say it but ok it is prempting. this  is too but ok.  and the analogy not soclear to our son and or daughter she says she got it good

Thor Freya

and i am ahead. ok. im an astronaut. your not ok. not big and a baby lol grow up but ok al are small still lol.

and it is like this talkiing abou the cushy tushy by mac and lily and they used it in norway and Thor Freya loved  it. lol.  and the fly scycle and designs and he said it have to keep the wheels.  and solid al and low profile.  shocksand all.  and fast.  wing somwhere they looked yes here and maeks the most sense. 

but this means him and an analogy not real football no that too and action too.  and he says no way. and yes not so big no bigger than them. all.  and he does not show it. no does but is not bigger.  but they say it w the chin.  and then he is not a giant.  and i read it.  he is in fear of bein big a bit.  needs doiugh the use it and we see.and torment him wand we hit and teyi dont care.  and we take advantage must.  but it means he shall be big then.  a certiain time.  in cali they say.  and we say this.  hmmm.  and ok mb when they arrive a bit.  and see they are others no.  but ok.  similar teams.  and theysay this he will be big and lok it sound it but do menial stuf f deliver our code and more. and we say ok sure. and they wont but as the great Kali a demon.  a female wiht a ton of swords and broken up as in angelina movies.  so i say this no way. not my look nope. and it does but heck we fight them and it lost.  well they say it did.  and that is one episode.  and macs whant it and try and we fight them but ok.  

and has to buy a battery. and he laughs they work. and donations stopped and by a mix no. macs iin the end.  tons of money. and spent on charities. and not macs.  and they see it.  got them in.  a few more ok. and they say it to me a lot ok.  and it is his height not too tall. nor big. and see it but strong and they display it like a mule amazing strength. and he doesnt but ok. and they show it and then this.  no no it isnt me.  and he syas it wow it is bent and urt his leg. and did.  theyi saw it no. shows on xray. annd sais wow i did that but ouch.  and said i id not meant o that hard. and more.  are heavy scary to russia. and start out wiht the wrong dainty game he  is not good at. and to po him or what. and it is tough always tough and we are young. worn number or what nope theyo are ful of themeseles have tortured children for ages and  want this opportunity to do it to us as they try to take it all forever. we see why. and it is wrong. we re not used to it respond wiht force.  and hefty amounts. unseen apparently. and we are isolated. but hear it all day. upset angry and p issy lose stuff. shines thourgh all day long and no act no bhobby or duty nothing.  only food sop and basic stuff and heinous attittudes.

today they saidthey would do this that and aso on. and code is thiers. it is.  and they plan to use his dads money and his only oney to have him drive round and it is a waste and the song no black cars will get you money.  and we see. it they say that.  but he needs transportation yes.  they want it we do too to forcecontrols and they say that. ok.

now this is a fun movie but about prison we dont like prison.  and it is liek it here but they get breaks. good.  need it.  

and on to the next show no.  this is hearbreking stuff he cant hear it yeh he can iti is sick stuff he says and it is.

Hera

very sick e hate it now and ue it we see him jc and his brother said he was over  did soemthing and we saw it evil kenivel. you can do it. jump over the shco buses and did

dan a bit too far nope now w e are chckin leaning good he says and he didit saturn ok the light

[gubbybug]

Life so hard when I want to eat yummy treat snack BUT it could maek me sick 🥺🥺🥺🥺😰😢😢😢😭😭😥😥😥😭😭😭😭😭😢😢😫😫😭😭😢😢😢😭😭😭💦💦💦

[teashay]

granatum

[gloomyloveletter]

video: (probably 100% based around a ship including one of my fos)

me, ignoring it: hee hee fo singy ...am in luv :3

[quixoticrobotic]

im a terrible goth i love saturated bright colors too much

[shinjuro-rengoku-ask]

if ure his boyfreind maek him pregerent. Sabito the girl and ure the man so he cam get pegnant.make him pragart I ont tell you agan.

WHYV WONT ANYONE MAEK HIM PREGORNT?!?!?!??!?

I dont assk for much.

“You don’t ask for much?! You’re literally asking me to bend the laws the nature. I know life finds away, but it’s a big ask, and uh…I’m sick? Yeah, I’m not well enough to give Sabito a baby.”

[junkazama]

WHY. CAN’T. COMPANIES & ARTISTS. KEEP. BLACK. CHARACTERS. DARK. SKINNED.

WHY MUST THEY ALWAYS BE LIGHTENED UP?  To make them “less threatening” to the white fans? HMMM?

Like I know it must seem like something really petty to a non-black person or a non-dark-skinned person, but you need to realize how important it is for dark skinned children to see people like them on t.v. You need to realize that this is colorism and racism at its finest. You need to realize that this is not okay. Subtle racism is an extremely effective form of racism (although I, personally, do not consider this subtle whatsoever). Recognize it.

[pinetrust-archived]

@heylincorporated  questions.   why do I love you? (mason) /    𝑴𝑬𝑴𝑬.

“ೋ  • 『    ☆   』 •ೋ    Mason   had   been   expecting   this ,  being   able   to   sense   other’s   feelings   came   with   that   sort   of   ,   upper   hand.   in   a   way   it   was   kind   of   cheating ,  being   able   to   predict   something  as   intimate  as   love.   but ,  he   saw   it   as   another   upper   hand   he   had   above   others ,  he   was   different   than   the   rest   in   the   sense   he   always   knew   what   people   were   thinking   before   they   ever   came   forward   with   it.   still ,   hearing   it   always   maeks   him   grin   with   some   sick   sense   of   pride.   

 “ೋ  • 『    ☆   』 •ೋ   However,   the   words   mean   a   little   more   to   mason   than   they   usually   do.  unlike   the   people   who   usually   confessed   feelings   of   admiration   to   him   though ,  they   were   not   chasing   a   fantasy ;  the   idealistic   pretty   rich   boy   with   a   heart   of   gold.    jack   knew   what   mason   was ,  seeing   the   true   colors   behind   a   nearly   perfected   mask.   yet   he   still   felt   this   way. 

❛      why   wouldn’t   you   love   me   ?     ❜  

"ೋ  • 『    ☆   』 •ೋ     Questions   mason ,  digits   reaching   up   to   gently   brush   jack’s   cheek ,  if   only   for   a   moment  ,  as   he   leans   in   close   to   make   his   next   statement   loud   &   clear  --  even   if   it   is   nothing   above   a   whisper.    this   sense   of   intimacy  is   something   jack   wants ,  he   can   tell.   so   why   not   provide   it   to   him  ,   if   only   for   a  few ,   fleeting   moments   ? 

❛       maybe   you’re   just   drawn   to   the   worst   of   humanity.    or   maybe   you’re   so   desperate   for   admiration   that   you   seek   it   from   me.    ❜  

"ೋ  • 『    ☆   』 •ೋ   Jack   had   a   lot   to   prove   to   him ,  while   he   saw   endless   possibilities   with   what   jack   could   do   with   such  a   sharp   mind ..  he’d   be   lying   if   he   said   he   didn’t   think   jack   wasn’t   a   particularly   sharp   knife.   in   a   way  ;   though ,  that   draws   mason   to   him.   he   is   the   competent   one ,  &   jack   is  well ,  jack.    

"ೋ  • 『    ☆   』 •ೋ    Backing   off ,   he   proceeds   to  tilt   his   head   to   one   side ,  his   smile   absent   as   the   coldness   returns   to   his   demeanor.   whatever  warmth   he   was   faking   was   momentary ,  just   like  all   of   his   masks   were.   if   jack   wanted   him   to   get   all   soft   with   him   he’d   have   to   try   harder   than   that.  

❛        or   maybe   you’re   just   an   idiot.   ❜  

[whispersatdawn]

Light in Darkness

Pairing: Sam Maek Jong (Park Hyung Sik) X Reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Word Count: 3,231

Request: So I saw that you were taking Hwarang requests so I decided to drop by. How about a Sam Meok Jong one where you're ordered to assassinate him or something but you actually like/love him so you're stuck between a rock and a hard place. Angsty with maybe a sprinkle of fluff? - anonymous

You sat still in the middle of the room. The room was dark, and the only thing that helped your vision was the few candles lit around. In front of you was your uncle, True Bone and traitor to the Royal Family. When your father - your uncle’s blood brother - died, your uncle took you in as if you were his own daughter and trained you to be an assassin with hopes of rebelling against the Royal Family. Everything went according to his plans so far, and his time of rebellion was approaching fast. “There will soon be a new ruler of Silla, my niece, and after I get what I want, you will also have whatever you desire,” your uncle told you, a devious smile on his wrinkled face. “How has it been in the castle these days?”

“Queen Jiso is still on the throne, but I have word that she is planning to reveal the hidden King and abdicate the throne to him soon. Several palace guards and Hwarangs have left to Baekje which gives us an upper hand.”

Your uncle stroked his beard, humming, taking in your words. “When do you think you’ll be able to take out your order?”

“King Jinheung has a bodyguard with him always close by, but I will find a way for him to be occupied on a night when the King is asleep.”

“Will you need some of the others to infiltrate the castle and assist you in carrying out your orders?”

You shook your head firmly. “No, Uncle. I am capable of taking out the King myself. Bringing in any of the others will can make things more difficult.”

“Is that so?” Your uncle replied. “And you do know the consequences if you fail to carry out the order and kill the King?”

“Yes, Uncle,” you confirmed, with a nod of your head. “If I get caught by the King, I will suffer with the punishment the Royal Family decides to carry out, most likely death. You will not bother to save me in order to risk them finding your plans. If I fail and make it back here, you will kill me yourself.”

“I adore you, my niece, but this is what we’ve been waiting for. Do not dare to disappoint me.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

You returned to the castle without anyone noticing that night and pretended as if you never left when morning came. Hiding your black assassin clothing deep in your closet, you changed into a pretty pink traditional dress that made you look even more innocent in one’s eyes. “Has the King woken?” you asked a maiden that was walking in your direction.

“Yes, Miss (Y/N). He was last seen in his study room with the private instructor,” the maiden answered.

“Thank you,” you said to her before changing your direction from the throne room to the King’s study.

With quiet steps, you walked towards the door that was slightly ajar. You peeked in and found him sitting in the middle of room, practicing calligraphy. You smiled, watching him. Never have you seen a man so handsome as him. His features were striking from his hypnotizing eyes to his blinding smile. When he spoke, his voice sounded like music to your ears.

You felt sorry for almost all the maidens. Because he was hidden, no one knew what he looked like. At the same time, you were lucky that you were one of the few who have seen his face, and you didn’t anyone else to have the pleasure of seeing him like you. As you tried to lean in to get a closer look at His Highness, the door suddenly flew open, knocking you back on your bottom.

“Ow!” you yelled from the impact and rubbed the part that hurt.

“Seems like we have a little spy, Your Highness,” you heard a gruff voice on top of you say.

When you looked up, you found the King’s bodyguard Pa Oh wagging his finger at you and clicking his tongue. Your face flushed, and you let out a nervous laugh. “I just wanted to greet Sam Maek Jong this morning. Also, good morning to you, Pa Oh.”

“Is that (Y/N), Pa Oh?” Sam Maek Jong asked from inside the room. The private instructor then walked out, leaving. “Let her in, Pa Oh.”

Pa Oh reached his hand out, and you held it so that he could pull you up to your feet. As you walked into the King’s study room, you hoped that your heart would calm down from the sight of him. He smiled when he saw you. “Good morning, (Y/N). What brings you here so early?”

“I should have a reason, shouldn’t I?” you replied with laughter. “I actually just wanted to see you, Your Highness. If you have some time to spare, would you like to walk around the palace with me?”

“He can’t,” Pa Oh answered from behind you. “His Highness has been busy preparing for his inauguration for the throne.”

“I can speak for myself, Pa Oh,” the king said while looking at you, smiling.

“Yeah, but if you did, you’d accompany her in a heartbeat,” Pa Oh muttered under his breath.

Though Sam Maek Jong heard his personal bodyguard, he decided to let the comment go. “Sorry, (Y/N). It will get harder for anyone to come see me now that my mother will soon give up the throne. In addition, Pa Oh is just frustrated since he has to leave the palace tomorrow for a few days.”

“Your Highness,” Pa Oh said sternly.

The king’s bodyguard won’t be by the king’s side for a few days?

“I have to aid some relatives of mine, but I insisted to stay with the king,” Pa Oh said worriedly. “In about a week, King Jinheung will take the throne which means he has to be very careful until then. How can I just leave him alone when there are people out there trying to stop him?”

“I’ll just stay in the castle. There’s nowhere else for me to roam off to,” Sam Maek Jong responded.

“For a king, anywhere can be dangerous. Even his own palace.”

You were supposed to feel relieved. Knowing that the king will practically be defenseless will make it easier for you to carry out your orders, but a part of you felt sick to the stomach. Since you have a chance to take out the king, there shouldn’t be an excuse for you not to assassinate him. You have to do it. If your uncle finds out about your feelings for the king and sees that you decide to let him live, you’ll be the one who’ll pay.

“Are you feeling unwell, (Y/N)?” Sam Maek Jong asked, his brows furrowing, when he saw you spacing out and fiddling with your fingers.

Hearing his voice, you snapped out of your daze. “Huh? I am fine, Your Highness. I actually have to get going. I promised one of the maidens to help with the laundry, but I almost forgot. She’ll have a fit.”

Sam Maek Jong chuckled. “You are quite a silly girl.”

You nervously laughed and stood up, but while you got back on your feet, the king stopped you. “Wait, before you go, (Y/N), I would like a word with you. Pa Oh, please step outside for a moment.”

Pa Oh bowed and hurried to step out, leaving only you and Sam Maek Jong alone. Your heart beat faster. What did he want to speak to you alone for?

“Please sit back down,” the king told you, and you obliged.

You sit across the handsome king. Only a small table separated the both of you. Sam Maek Jong moved one of his hands forward and opened it. You looked at him curiously, but when he nudges his head to his hand, you slowly placed one of your hands on top of him.

His big hand embraced your small, soft ones. Your cheeks flushed a little pink from his movement. “(Y/N),” he said softly, like a sweet spring day.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“I was thinking of waiting a little while to tell you, but I don’t think I can anymore. It’ll be hard for us to meet until I officially become king, but even after that, I have so many duties to take care of, especially taking care of the people. I think it would be best if you knew my heart now. (Y/N).”

“Yes?” you said again, voice even lower this time. You didn’t how you were supposed to react in front of him.

“No other maiden has ever caught my eye, but ever since you set foot into the castle, I keep on trying to find my way to you. You’re a beautiful, bright woman... and it would really make me happy if you were my woman.”

Was he confessing? King Jinheung of the kingdom of Silla was confessing his feelings for you. The man you grew affection for reciprocated your feelings. The very person you were ordered to kill. You felt like something was lodged in your throat, making it impossible to respond. He had no idea what kind of person you were, and you were scared.

“You’re surprised, aren’t you?” Sam Maek Jong chuckled, oblivious to the situation. “You don’t have to say anything, but I still want to know if you feel the same way about me. A nod would be just fine.”

You slowly nodded your head.

Sam Maek Jong lightly squeezed your hand before letting go. He had a big smile on his face, satisfied with your answer. “I’ll come see you before night falls. You should go ahead, or the other maiden will really throw a fit.”

“I...I’ll be going, Your Highness.”

That night was the most recent time you saw the king. Following that very night and a few more days afterwards, you were determined. You were going to go through it. Looking at yourself in the mirror in your all-black outfit, you knew there was no going back.

Most of the palace were asleep already, minus some of the palace guards watching for trespassers. Your uncle had raised and trained you ever since your parents died. He prepared you for this and told you that it was going to be the greatest achievement of your life. Your uncle would be proud. 

Could you really do it? Three days after the king’s confession, you found it so difficult to face him, scared that he would be able to see right through you. You might as well be dead if he found out about your secret. “You need to do this, (Y/N),” you whispered to yourself as you grabbed your sword out of the closet. Pulling up your mask over your mouth, you looked outside to see if anyone was wandering around the area before stealthily making it to the room that belonged to the future leader of Silla.

Quiet as a mouse, you entered the dark room. It took your eyes a minute to adjust to the lack of light. Your footsteps could barely be heard. The only noise was the king’s breathing. He laid in the middle of the room, sleeping soundly. Step by step, you closed the distance between the two of you. When you were able to see Sam Maek Jong’s face, your chest tightened.

“I sometimes wished I was born as someone else...” You remembered him telling you that one day.

“Why? What makes you say that, Your Highness?”

“I’m a coward, and a coward like me will never be able to bear the weight of the crown. All my life, I had to watch my own back. Other than Pa Oh, I can’t trust a single human being. Not the True Bones. Not the servants. Not even my own mother, the queen. I don’t have anyone to lean on because everyone is out to get me. They’d rather have me dead.”

You remembered how you remained silent after he said that. Then, when he called your name, you could barely face him. The guilt was eating you alive.

“But I can trust you, right (Y/N)? I want to trust you.”

Guilt. Even now it continued to eat you. The man in front of you wanted your loyalty. He didn’t have anyone else’s, and you were about to turn on him, too. Reaching behind you, you reached for your sword and wielded the weapon.

Trembling, you tried to hold onto the sword. Before you knew it, your eyes started to become blurry. For what reason did you need to assassinate a member of the Royal Family? It was an order from your uncle, but why did he have to involve King Jinheung? He was shoving his long hatred and vengeance on the Royal Family over to you, making you do his dirty work.

Your own reflection appeared on your sword, and you changed your mind. You didn’t have the heart to do it. You loved the king too much to take his life. “You insolent girl.” You knew that’s what your uncle would say before he killed you and take matters into his own hands. You would have to come to terms with that.

Death. You were prepared to greet it. That was the sacrifice you were willing to make. Then, the king would never find out.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to him before you began to back away. You turned around, attempting to leave before someone found you in the king’s room. Before you reached for the door, you heard the sound of sword slashing in the air, and a blade just inches from your throat, scaring you into dropping you own sword. You didn’t dare move.

“How dare you come into my room?” he hissed in a low voice. You’ve never heard him speak this coldly to anyone. “Who sent you? Tell me before I slit your throat.”

You glanced down at your sword. If you could push him back and reach your sword fast enough, you could fight him off to get away before he figured your identity. No. You already underestimated him once. If you moved, it was over. Your mind raced as you thought of a way to escape.

Maybe you would risk that chance. You were dead either way. “Ugh!” you grunted as you quickly pushed Sam Maek Jong, sending him stumbling backwards. At lightning speed, you scooped up your sword. Both of your weapons went up against each other, but still shaken up, you barely found any strength to fight back. Your sword was knocked out of your hands, and you were backed up against the door.

Sam Maek Jong held the sword against your neck once more. Now that you were facing him, you saw the rage in his eyes. “I will not say it again. Tell me who sent you,” he threatened with his teeth gritted.

With his free hand, he started to reach for your mask. “Stop-” Before you could finish, your face cover was yanked off.

Your couldn’t tell if your heart was working anymore. Probably because it had shattered in a million pieces. You’ve experienced it before: anger and betrayal. Those were the emotions your uncle always wore. That was what his people wore all the time. You know what it looked like. But seeing it on the king’s face along with confusion, and knowing you were responsible for it, you wanted nothing more than for him to strike you. You deserved it.

“(Y-Y/N)...” he managed to say while stuttering. His eyes were red, and you were your’s matched. Tears fell down your cheeks. “W-What are you... W-Were you trying to...”

“I...” There were no excuses to give.

“Tell me, (Y/N)!” his voice raised. Angry. Desperate. “Tell me this isn’t true! You walked into my room by mistake, right?! There’s no way. I refuse to believe this. Why would you do this?!”

“I was given an order,” you replied, voice shaking. “You can’t be king. That throne belongs to my uncle. It’s time for the Royal Family to step aside and stop interfering with the real owner of the throne. It is correct. I was sent here as an assassin to watch you and take action when it was time.”

“No...” The king removed the sword from you, and it clattered on the ground.

“What are you doing?!” you shouted as you glared at him. “Pick up the sword! I have rebelled against the king. I don’t deserve to live. I will take my consequence whatever it may be. If you let me go now, my own uncle will throw me away anyway, so pick up the sword!”

“Your own uncle will throw you away?” Sam Maek Jong repeated.

“That’s right! I’ve failed my mission. You think he’s going to give me a chance to live? Well, not a chance.”

“I’m not going to kill you.”

“What?”

“I love you, (Y/N). I stand by what I said about my feelings for you, and I know you feel the same way. Your uncle put you up to this, but you’re nothing like him. You don’t have to be like him, (Y/N). I know you want to be a good person. (Y/N), you are a good person. You don’t have to do this.”

“How are you so sure I haven’t been messing with your heart this whole time, and I have pretended to have feelings for you?” you asked in anguish. You felt sorry for him. A king, his world so cruel, and he was so pure.

“Because...” he replied, smiling sadly. “You could kill me right now. What’s stopping you? I don’t have a sword in my hand.” He raised his hands, showing his defenselessness.

You were going to choke on your own tears. The king bravely made his way towards you. He cupped his hand over your cheek and leaned in.close to you. When his lips touched you, you could taste the salt from his tears. Or were they your own? He kissed you and kissed you, and your whole body felt weak. You wanted to slump against him when he pulled away.

He then reached down, and fear spiked you when Sam Maek Jong slowly reached for your sword and placed it in your quivering hand. He stepped back until he was right in front of the tip of the blade. “It’s okay...” Sam Maek Jong assured you, the melancholy smile still on his face. “Finish your mission and go before the guards catch you.”

“No...” you cried. “I don’t want to.”

A cold assassin? The king was right. You were built to be that person, but that was never you. You were a weak young girl who missed her parents and just wanted someone to please.

You slid down to the wooden floor and placed your clean weapon on the floor. You continued to sob. Sam Maek Jong knelt down next to you and pulled you into his arms as you wept. “It’s okay,” he said again, holding you tight like he wanted to protect you from the rest of the world. “You’re going to be okay.”

“M-My uncle-”

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll keep you safe. If he wants to deal with me, I’m going to face him. I won’t be a coward anymore. I won’t let him get to you.”