#think of all the criminals that they have pardoned & which WILL come out onto the streets!

[tovarischgrazhdanin]

a post full of negativity, a post full of negativity!

due to recent events, which are not being picked up by our mainstream cycle, we are in deep shit! i have been waiting for a stupid moment like "U has invaded R's borders without being met with any resistance"... and it happened

so, is it going to be over soon? or is it going to escalate into something even uglier? we already have our youtube servers slowed down to a crawl, since apparently the people dont need to see the "lies" that are being shown there... even though, the slowing of servers has only affected PC users.

and even then it is circumvented with a VPN. but now, we dont even get to hear what happened near our border through official sources, because it is Embarassing, obviously

and im getting the same feeling i had, when it all started. i prefer to have a realistic outlook on things, so, according to my rational thinking, a bomb will fall on my head soon.

i dont seek sympathy with this post, since im not the one to be paid attention to during these times. all im telling you is that some shit is most likely to go down, and it will come sooner than expected

or maybe not. maybe its just another fluke, like the time when paid mercenaries almost took over the capital a year ago. i do hope that this is something substantial though, since i would like for the horrors for both people to end! preferably in the next few days

[tinietaehyun]

The Case of The Chase [6]

[Detective!Taehyun x Detective!reader] [Ft. Beomgyu]

Pairing(s): Detective!Taehyun x Detective!Reader

x Beomgyu?]

Genre(s): Mystery, thriller, romance, fluff, angst, lovers to enemies, friends to lovers.

Contains: Mentions of violence/murder, profanity, manipulative behaviour, gaslighting, mentions of blood/injury.

Link: The Case Series Masterlist

Summary: Hopeless and terrified you peer at your phone screen. You hadn’t slept in days. Had you lost everything? Were you that bad at your job? The detective was now looming over you. All you had was Beomgyu by your side. Taehyun had challenged you outright and yet here you were huddled up in fear.

You rang Beomgyu three times. He’s still not picking up. A dread fills you. God no. No way…

————————•••••••••••••••————————

“I heard they broke up…”

“Weren’t they perfect together? What happened?…”

“Yikes, wasn’t it y/n’s birthday two days ago..? That’s rough…”

“Wow, Detective Kang is really cold.”

“I was expecting it to be honest, she’s so clingy, I’d get tired too.”

“It makes sense this is her last day too…”

You shakily peer down at your desk at dozens of stares aim at you in an upsetting mixture of pity, disgust and pure confusion. You put your pen holders into the box alongside your files and stationary. Today was your last day in this office.

The office which you used to think of as another home. Your den where you could see the love of your life daily and bring so called ‘justice’ to your beloved city. Now it was nothing more than a dingy, hollow place filled with judgemental people and a criminal at the forefront of it: Kang Taehyun. You bitterly laugh to yourself making the others around you wince.

Did these people have nothing fucking better to do? You wondered if Taehyun was the one to start the rumours. Though, it had only been around two days since your frightful encounter with Taehyun, you were still deathly paranoid.

You remember his words as he let you out of his home: “Oh and here, your gift that I bought you ages ago. It’s no longer necessary for me to keep is it? Anyway, goodbye, love. Try to stay safe.” You remember that night you didn’t sleep a wink. You really ought to throw that gift away when you have time. You didn’t even open it. You and him never officially spoke of breaking up; but then again you suppose after that night, it was rather obvious that you were more akin to rivals than lovers at this point.

You were now caught in Taehyun’s web. A player of Taehyun’s vast game. You had to find some way to win. Well hey, at least you had Beomgyu by your side.

Your eyes widen as you spot Taehyun come in through the door and all the various staff disperse back to their desks immediately. You’re the only one standing pathetically putting your desk items into the box. Your eyes meet and lock onto each other. Rage, fear, fury swirls and torments every part of you. He was the reason why you were leaving. The reason for everything.

His lips form into a sly smile as he adjusts his collar of his off-white shirt and slips off his long coat. Your hands tremble on the flap of the petite box you held; trembling in a mixture of anger and nervousness. The clatter of his sleek leather shoes resound as everyone’s eyes are glued to the both of you.

Waves of nausea roll through you as you watch him nonchalantly walk past and greet other colleagues. It was as if you were invisible to him. You heart shatters into pathetic smithereens. To think a year ago you were all heart-eyes for this sadistic piece of shit. Your grip on the box tightens as you listen in on the conversation.

“So, Detective Kang…curiosity has been getting the better of me. Pardon me, but… is it true that you and y/n… have…?”

You feel your shoulders slouch even lower than they already were. You became the gossip of the office. Of course everyone was going to support the star detective.

Taehyun’s lips form a gleaming smile; he shakes his head with a breathless laugh and nonchalant wave, “No need to beat around the bush. It’s nothing really. We’ve broken up. Consider it a…difference in perspectives and lifestyles. She’s quite the stubborn one.” He lightly chuckles as the other colleagues do.

You seethe in rage. You drop the box in a echoing clatter as you feel tears build up in your eyes and rush up the creaky stairs up towards the one place you used to love with all your heart. The place you used to gaze at the sunsets and have warm tea with your once beloved detective: the rooftop.

The open breeze hits you and your hair bounces in the breeze as you breathe in the air. Your eyes scan the towering skyscrapers that glimmer and sparkle under the morning sun. Warmth settles on your skin comfortably. You rest your hands on the railing of the roof. You deeply inhale and exhale attempting to calm yourself.

Your eyes fall shut as you embrace the breeze and try to ground yourself. The howling of the wind and bustle of the city were oddly calming- it eases the panic out of your system.

You flinch hearing the crunch of footsteps on the concrete roofing and you twist around seeing the man you wished the Earth would swallow whole. You hiss out lowly, “Taehyun.”

He lets out an amused hum, “Aren’t you happy to see me, love?” The way he says it- it’s twisted and mocking. It sends shivers through you.

You snap as you clench your fists, “Don’t fucking call me that.” His eyes sharpen and he lets out a vain laugh, “What…love? Does that bother you that much?”

You peer away trying to get a grip on yourself. You couldn’t let him rile you up or scare you. You quietly mumble, “Why did you come up here?”

“To check on you.” Your heart pangs. You’d have believed that lie once, but not ever again. You lowly spit out, “Don’t say such bullshit to my face ever again.” The sheer audacity this man had.

“I didn’t know you had such a mouth on you, huh?” He walks closer to you. You step back with anger unintentionally lacing your features, “If you’re here to belittle me, you don’t need to. As if your ego needs a boost anyway.” Taehyun chuckles at your remark.

“Scared?” He steps closer and you realise you’re awfully close to the railing edge. A gasp escapes your lips as you stumble and he grabs your wrist in a vice-like grip. You seethe at him, “No.” He raises brow, “Why don’t you give up on this?”

“On what?”

He scoffs clearly getting irritated, “Your investigation.” Taehyun peers to your left looking down at the precarious height, “That’d be quite a nasty fall.”

You grit out, “You wouldn’t.”

He loosens his grip and you wrench out of his hold shoving past him to a much safer distance. The brown haired male simply laughs to himself at your caution, “You’re right, I wouldn’t. Not here.”

Breaths shakily tumble out of you and adrenaline courses through your vessels. Taehyun hums, “You know, I really do want to give you a chance to back out.” Something about those words irk you incredibly.

“Fuck you.” You snap. His eyes darken and he snarks, “I’d be careful if I were you.”

He walks up to you clearly emanating an aura of anger and he grits out, “Drop the case.”

You snap back, “Over my dead body.”

Taehyun throws his head back in laughter; his strands of dark hair fall over his eyes. A manic look appears in his eyes; “You’re just itching to get killed.”

You glare as you harshly snap, “You’re just a pathetic, pathetic man Kang Taehyun. I feel sorry for you, constantly hiding behind a mask, a facade. Have you ever been yourself for once? Needing to off people to get success?” Taehyun goes dead silent and his gaze is the most malevolent you’ve ever seen. It seems you’ve pissed him off more than ever.

You grit out, “I’m ready to face you. Let me show you how a real detective, solves things. You will pay for your crimes.”

“That’s big talk from someone who can’t help but shiver pitifully in front of me. He sneers. Taehyun’s eyes sparkle as he pushes past you with an ominous remark, “Anyway, it’s not your back that you need to watch out for.”

What did he mean by that?

——-••——

You fill Beomgyu in about all that’s happened earlier today. Your emotions were in a terrible torrent. It always strikes you how he never loved you. He just toyed with you all so that you wouldn’t go digging up about his past. It was inevitable.

“Do…do you mind if I come over?” He tentatively asks over the phone. You murmur, “Is it to talk more details about the investigation?” A moment of silence passes and he mumbles, “…I mean not quite. I just…you’re having a tough time and I thought comforting you in person would be better.”

You release an awkward, “Oh.”

“If-If that’s not okay, I’ll take that back!” He stammers on the phone and you start laughing on the phone. You shake your head with an endeared smile, “No, no, I’m just surprised. I’d…I’d really like that.”

“Yeah?” His voice bounces back. You giggle, “I’ll send my address. Don’t get lost.”

“You think that lowly of me?” He whines.

With that call, you find yourself opening the door to a floppy, dark brown haired man standing in your door way with a bag in hand and his laptop satchel on his right. You can’t help but snort and he pouts, “Aren’t you gonna welcome me in?”

“Well…do you have a warrant officer?” You tease. He groans and whines, “You’re so annoying. I should have never told you to look me up.” You welcome him in laughing and let him sit down. You peer inside the bag spotting a 20 piece chicken bucket, various condiments alongside two cheeseburgers and two Cola’s. Your mouth waters immediately.

“You bought food?” You exclaim. He chuckles; a hearty and husky sound. It felt comforting. “Yeah, I did. Thought some deliciously salty fast food would make you feel a bit better.”

“Thank you, my dear saviour,” you dramatically swoon making him roll his eyes. “You have to pay me back,” he deadpans. You immediately straighten up and he cackles, “I’m joking!”

You both end up chattering and munching away on the delicious food. Your soul felt warm and comforted. The last few weeks were incredibly stressful; particularly on your mind. The way he cracked terrible jokes, teased you ever so often and responded sarcastically laced with a touch of wit; it all made you feel happy.

You peer at his outfit, an oversized white T-shirt with a graphic print on it and loose/baggy trousers. You hated how good he looked in such a simple outfit. God, what were you thinking?

“You’re staring?” He inquires with a boyish smile. You peer away embarrassed and clear your throat, “I’m just observing.”

“What?” He asks amused at your coyness.

“Anyway, are you eating that?” You point at the last chicken piece and he gawks at you, “How shameless of you detective!”

You shrug, “Going once, going twice-“

He shoves it into his mouth at once with a cheeky smile as his eyes form crescents. You burst out laughing.

This was the first time you felt at ease since all this investigation nonsense started. You begin to clean up the various wrappers, paper buckets and Beomgyu helps alongside you picking up the tissue papers. His eyes glimmer as he takes notice of a beautifully wrapped present carelessly lying on the floor next to the sofa.

“What’s this?” He asks peering curiously at it. You force down the urge to rip it out of his hands and place into the bin with the rest of the trash. You huff, “Taehyun’s gift.” Beomgyu grimaces, “That guy gave you a gift? Is he insane?” You shrug, “He must’ve bought it before all this shit went down.”

“You didn’t open it?” He questions. You shake your head disgusted, “No way, I was planning to throw it away. In fact, now’s a good time; give it here-“

“Hold on,” he halts you as he starts undoing the ribbons and wrapping paper. It reveals an incredibly elegant notepad and pen set alongside a stunning, high quality magnifying glass (that now unfortunately had a small crack in it- perhaps due to the force with which you threw the box when you came back home!)

“Damn, he’s made of money,” Beomgyu comments. Your heart pangs seeing the gift; he definitely knew what you liked. It was useful for your job too.

Beomgyu peers at the contents in the box in awe and you roll your eyes, “I could buy that myself. Nothing special.” He scoffs, “Yeah maybe after saving up for three months.”

“Who’s side are you on?” You huff. You think back to the investigation you realise your plan to get Taehyun’s fingerprints were now out of the question. You didn’t even work at the office anymore.

Your eyes glance back at the gift. You peer at the glossy intricate cover of the notepad. Your eyes sparkle as your brain turns several gears. “Wait- fuck!” You suddenly yelp startling Beomgyu.

“Don’t touch anything in there!” You scrambling forward shoving him out of the way. You awkwardly fall against him and you gasp at how close your faces are. A blossom of red decorates his cheeks and he stammers peering down, “N-Now now, I- what’s h-happened?” You push yourself off him and you heave out, “The notepad! His fingerprints must be on the notepad or magnifying glass. In perfect and protected condition!” His eyes seem distracted for a moment as he stammers, “Uh…what?”

Beomgyu recovers from the proximity and puts together what you’re saying. His eyes widen; “Hell yeah, that’s ingenious! That’s what I’m talking about, detective!” Your cheeks warm at his praise. He hums, “Alright we’ll leave it there. You have the dusting compound?”

You nod; “it should be in my study room. I have only a little. I usually order more at work.” Beomgyu nods, “I’ll get that sorted. For now we’ll need to get this transferred.” You smile at his flustered state. His eyes never leave your face.

Your eyes widen, “Oh! Oh there’s this picture of a map I found in Taehyun’s drawer.” He nods in recollection, “Ah yeah you sent it to me, let’s analyse it. I was looking at it before and it appears to showcase some of the victims homes. I didn’t finishing looking at it.”

You nod, “Also, I mentioned already about the pistol. Taehyun must have more guns at home. A pistol is far too loud. It’s also his father’s this must confirm that his father had a hand in Yeonjun’s death. Or Taehyun having killed his own father. A pistol was the cause of death right?”

Beomgyu’s eyes glimmer, “The police restricted the case files previously. Remember Taehyun’s father had quite the influence. I heard the bullet was found on the scene. We can compare the model of the gun to the found bullet.”

You murmur, “To get Taehyun caught up, we need to drag his father’s crime into this. This will lead us to get a sufficient search warrant. We can search Taehyun’s home.”

Beomgyu smiles, “Bingo. I think I can pull a few strings to get some of the restricted files.” He groans, “I might have to wave some cash too.”

“Fighting corruption with more corruption?” You deadpan. He huffs, “Listen, there’s no way I’m getting restricted files just based on my position alone unless I pull a few faulty strings.” You sigh, “Yeah, yeah.”

Beomgyu hums in deep thought. “We’ll take a visit to the police station tomorrow. We’ll revisit the cases. I’ll try to pull some strings to get them to give us access to the files.” You nod; a fire of determination now sets alight within you.

You murmur, “If we can get a sufficient search warrant, we can find more clues inside Taehyun’s home.”

Beomgyu hums, “Oh also, I visited the store where Taehyun purchases his disposable gloves from and got the store clerk to give me an account. Additionally, after some scouting around, there’s a frequent mafia meet up spot; it’s in this one diner. It’s awfully close by. I suspect that’s where he gets his weapons and what not.”

You pull up a map on your phone and your eyes scan across the area he mentions. Your eyes widen, “The roads: Achasan-Ro-Gil, Seongsui-Ro-20gil are within twenty minute range.”

“I’ll get some officers to check the CCTV footage of the roads in between those roads. He definitely parks his car before reaching the spot where he intends to kill. I suspect he walks to the location to avoid tyre tracks. You know his license number right?” You nod.

Silence passes between the both of you as you are deep in thought. He scans the map further. You had a set out plan and it appears evidence was stacking up against Taehyun. If you could link Taehyun’s pistol to the deaths of his father and Yeonjun’s then that could give you a head start.

Beomgyu appears to zoom in on the map and you wince; you should have probably tried to take a clearer picture. His eyes darken as he pinpoints a certain location.

“Beomgyu?” You stammer as his face pales. “Shit, do you see where this dot is? It’s a residential area. It’s my neighbourhood. It’s unchecked!”

Your heart drops like a deployed anchor at sea. “Fuck.” Your mind processes Taehyun’s words from earlier today.

‘It’s not your back you have to watch out for.’

You let out a whimper and you yelp grasping Beomgyu’s arm, “He’s after you, he’s after you!”

You explain Taehyun’s last remark making Beomgyu pale even further. Beomgyu ascertains, “He’s gonna strike me out. I’m his biggest threat; he knows that. I have connections with the police. He has to take me out first. Then you. You’re next.”

“Fuck, he’s insane,” you pant out, partially hyperventilating.

“It’s okay.” His hand grip yours tightly. You quiver out, “If-If anything happens to you, I- this case is doomed! I can’t…I can’t imagine working on this alone.”

His other hand takes yours and he holds your hand firmly peering into your eyes. “Y/n, hey, hey breathe. Breathe with me.” One, two, three. Three, two…one.

Your lips tremble, “You’ve been the only one who’s been by my side for this. You were the one who showed me truth.”

“I know, I know,” he answers sympathetically. He continues, “You know the risk that comes with my job. If he wants to place a big target on my back, so be it.” His eyes meet yours (albeit filled with fear but much resilience), “My goal is that one of us brings his crimes to light. Even if that means I have to risk everything. My intention is for you to do what Yeonjun has always wanted.”

Your eyes glaze over. Beomgyu murmurs, “I think this realisation is good. We can keep him distracted on me, whilst we quietly pursue the investigation.”

You grip his hands tighter, “Don’t be reckless, okay. I know…your sense of justice is admirable but…stay safe.” He gives you that boyish smile you’ve become so accustomed to and you mirror it back. The warmth of his hands linger on yours.

“Stay strong for Yeonjun,” he murmurs. His thumb caresses the back of your hand making your eyes widen. “Stay strong for me. We’ll win. We need to persevere, got that, detective?” He winks playfully and you rip your hands out of his clasp with a scoff. “How can you be so unserious?” “Our biggest enemy can often be our own mind, you know?” You roll your eyes, “I don’t want to hear your philosophy right now.” He chuckles.

He peers at you softly, “I know you’re scared. I am too.” Beomgyu raises his arms, “Want a hug?” You ponder for a moment. Perhaps, you always wondered what it would be like to receive a hug from him. You find yourself nodding; he wraps his arms around you pulling you into his side for a delightfully soothing hug. It made you feel warm and safe. He rests his head atop yours and hums, “We got this.” You smile leaning against his chest, “Yeah.”

——||||——

“Sorry miss, it’s just not possible to access those files. The case is clearly closed and we already have a backlog of cases needed to be sorted. Mr. Kang is very strict with confidentiality.” The officer spouts. You glare frustrated; he was clearly spitting out lies. You arrived at the Seoul Metropolitan Police Station to get access to the files.

Beomgyu taps his fingers on the table, “Listen sir, I believe she’s made it clear. She’s a detective and appears to want to access the case files. It should help with the murders occurring on the Reaper’s Alleys. You cannot be this ignorant.” The officer rolls his eyes, “I don’t know how many more times I’ve got to tell you, those are restricted. I don’t care whatever so called ‘evidence’ she or you have. Stop bothering the department.”

Beomgyu sighs rubbing his temples and slips his hand into his pocket. He slams his wallet with his ID card facing up. The officer grumpily takes a look and straightens up immediately.

“Officer Choi Beomgyu. My jurisdiction is Busan. You wouldn’t happen to know my father would you? Commissioner Choi? He recently met with Seoul’s commissioner around four months ago. You may check the database if you don’t believe me.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Sir, I-I wasn’t aware.” Beomgyu’s gaze darkens, “You know I didn’t think the officers here would be capable of obstructing justice.” “Never sir!,” the officer splutters. “As my colleague mentioned before, the files.”

The officer reluctantly sighs, “Sir, I am really sorry but my answer remains the same.”

Beomgyu grits out, “…and why’s that?”

The officer hesitates for a moment before leaning over and whispering, “Sir, with all discretion, this case falls under the Kang’s Detective Agency. I can’t just let anyone have access to this.”

You smirk; you still had your worker’s ID. You slide your ID card across, “Funny you say that sir, I work there.”

His eyes widen, “You should have said so, miss!” You scoff at the change up. So being a private investigator isn’t enough, you realise how much power did the Kang’s Detective Agency truly had. Beomgyu hums, “In fact, she is Detective Kang’s partner and assistant detective. She’s extremely skilled, officer. Handpicked by Mr. Kang himself.”

The officer appears to hesitate for awhile in silence almost deep in thought, “…Detective Kang was very serious about the confidentiality of these files, I’m not…uh, can I confirm with him via call?”

Fuck. You smile pleasantly, “No need, it was direct orders from Detective Kang. He asked me to retrieve the files. It appears that he wishes to re-look the case as new evidence has popped up regarding the Mafia cases here. There seems to be a positive correlation between the cases.”

Beomgyu hums, “It appears some of the suspected mafia members have moved to Busan and set up there, so I’ve decided to partner with them in case they need help.”

Beomgyu’s eyes glare, “My father would be very grateful if we could get this done and sorted quickly.”

You were shocked at how well you and Beomgyu were bouncing off each other. It really did sound somewhat convincing.

Beomgyu leans over spotting the contemplation of the officer, “And…officer, I’d be willing to give you a lovely bonus, so that we can get a move on.” The officer’s eyes twinkle at the mention of money, “Sir, surely…?”

Beomgyu deviously smiles, “Just a little incentive that’s all. Justice needs to be served after all.” “But of course sir, I’m on the same page.”

You grin sarcastically. Hook, line and sinker. These greedy fuckers. You hum delightfully, “Thank you ever so much officer for your understanding. I’ll be sure to let Taehyun know. He sends his regards.” The officer goes into the large archive room as you can’t help but jitter victoriously.

Within half an hour you have access to the files and you and Beomgyu start taking pictures of each page to have closer reference at home. You didn’t have much time to analyse here on the spot.

With that successfully done, you could link the previous crimes with Taehyun. You’d have to build a meticulous portfolio of evidence and you wanted to try to get a search warrant or some sort of confession from Taehyun, to really drive it home.

You both walk out with palpitating hearts, brimming with determination. You outwit Taehyun just this once. You definitely knew he’d find out about this, of course.

—|||—

At home you start to peer at each page one by one and analyse/look for any discrepancies. So far everything seemed to match with what you already knew.

You turn to the page describing the evidence and your eyes widen seeing an image of a damaged (and rather bloodied) bullet. Underneath, the model name was left blank. It appears some strings were pulled to purposely not identify the bullet! This is exactly what you needed.

Your phone rings startling you. You peer at the caller and you immediately feel nauseous. Kang Taehyun. You hesitate.

You slide to answer. “Hello?” “You’ve been busy haven’t you?” He asks neutrally. You murmur, “I have.”

“I got a call that you’ve accessed restricted files.” He hums. You stiffen, “What?” You swear you told that office that YOU would tell Taehyun. Well, you knew this would happen but not this quickly.

“I have many people at the station who can report to me you know. It just so happens you got lucky. Must’ve waved some money around, huh?” He sneers into the phone.

“I did no such thing.” You retort. “You didn’t, your little partner did,” he snarks.

You remain silent. It’s whatever you had photos of the document anyway that you took in private (you really weren’t allowed to do that).

“Tell me this love, how does this sound? ‘My ex-girlfriend is insane. She is trying to get revenge upon me and attempting to defame me by illegally obtaining evidence using her position despite being fired?’”

“You fucking maniac!” You screech. No way, if this news reached the public, you’d be public enemy number one. No one would believe you.

“See? You do sound insane.” He hums. You calm yourself, “Taehyun just- this isn’t worth it.” He laughs on the phone, “You’re the one who started this. I’m gonna be the one to finish it. Then the story goes, ‘Busan’s commissioner’s son is also in on the conspiracy and had relations with said ex, and both are plotting against me.’”

Fuck. Oh this piece of shit. You snarl, “You think you’re so smart. We have just as much shit on you. You are going down with me.”

“Oh is that so?,” he says unfazed. “Well then, detective, that reminds me. Have you checked up on your partner? I heard he sometimes takes evening strolls, hm, maybe to clear his head?” Your heart drops.

“Don’t touch him.” You snarl. You had to lure him in. Make him think you have a weak point. You had to put all his attention onto Beomgyu (no matter how scary it was).

“Oh really?” He sneers. “Oh come now, I won’t do anything.”

“You’ll only drag yourself down further if you hurt him, Taehyun.” You mutter.

“I’m sure I will y/n,” he drawls unamused. He continues, “Why don’t you call him? Make sure he’s okay?”

“What?” You stammer. He hums, “Goodbye.” The phone call abruptly ends sending your nervous system into overdrive. You hurriedly call Beomgyu. There’s no way Taehyun could work so fast. Right? Right!?

You dial up Beomgyu. You dial again and he doesn’t pick up. Third time. You rang three times and he’s still not picking up. You frustratedly pace around. What could he be doing?

“Hello?” His husky voice resounds. “Shit, fucking hell? Are you okay?” You splutter.

“Hey, hey, what’s up? I just got out of the forensic lab.” He asks with a chuckle.

You sigh in relief, “Taehyun is hundred percent targeting you now. From what he’s said.”

“Excellent, meanwhile I’ve got the fingerprints. I’ll start analysing the files.” You gawk at his response.

You nod, “There’s a section on the weapon, there’s no trace of the weapon despite a photo of the bullet.”

“Got you, that’s the loophole we need to work with.”

“Taehyun knows we looked at the files and he’s unfazed,” you murmur.

“Oh he’s not gonna show you his emotions. But I bet deep down in that sadist’s heart he’s never been this stressed before.” You can’t help but smile; maybe.

“Be careful Beomgyu,” you softly chide. He chuckles on the phone, “Keep your head down in the files, detective. Don’t worry your pretty head about me.” You become flustered and reply, “Mhm.”

You were inching ominously closer. You were yet to tell Beomgyu about this. But honestly speaking, you wanted Taehyun to admit it and get caught. It was a far stretch but it meant that you’d have to put yourself in the most danger you’ve ever been in. You doubt Beomgyu would let you take a risk like that.

Nevertheless, you knew Taehyun could outsmart any type of evidence and now he was threatening to incriminate you. You had to act fast.

Your eyes glance at your phone and smile. You had an idea.

What better punishment for the arrogant ‘detective’ than to get caught by his own words?

——

[Part 7 coming soon!]

——

Note:

Thank you so much for 100 followers! <3 it’s a small yet meaningful milestone and I’m glad a lot of people find my work enjoyable and interesting to read!

[dearmailman]

Hi 👋

Can you please write about baby Howdy being taken care of by Eddie and Frank please? (There is a criminal lack of baby Howdy in the wh agere community lmao)

If not that’s ok you enjoy your day/night neighbor!

🌸 anon

Thank you for letting me write this, genuinely, these three melt my dang heart! [art piece]

The soft scrape of a broom and a small whistling sweeps through the store as Howdy cleans up for the day. The windows were wiped down, the counter cleaned, and the stock re-stocked. With a few more sweeps and a dump of the dustpan, everything is well. Howdy all but collapses onto the stool behind the counter, smiling and wiping his brow with his sleeve. Tiredly he stares at the ceiling fan's spinning, top set of arms crossed and bottom set propping him on the counter.

He does adore his job - why wouldn't he? - but some days he just feels tired beyond belief.

The door dings and he sits up, grabbing his hat with a start, realizing he'd forgotten to flip the closed sign. And speaking of forgetting, Eddie walks up to the counter with a casual smile.

"Hiya Howdy!" he waves.

"Eddie, hello! I close at 8, did you forget?" Howdy is speaking slower than normal, and Eddie can't help looking at the circles under his eyes and the way his face sags. He smiles worriedly, tilting his head.

"Y' all good, neighbor?"

Howdy pauses, blinking unfocusedly like he just woke up. "Oh, I'm... Yes! Yes, I'm fine, Dear!"

"Y' look all... downtrodden or somethin'." Eddie reaches out a hand and touches his forehead. "Y'r all warm too- Howdy are you sick?!"

"No! No, caterpillars never get sick. I'm sharp as a whip, like always!"

Eddie looks him over, concerned. "Howdy... Y'know, it has been a while since you 'rested' proper." Eddie holds his cheeks gently. "You should let me call Frank over! We have missed babysittin'."

"Eddie, I-" Howdy's cheeks go blue and he looks to the floor. "I'd hate to inconvenience you, Ed!" His voice is putting on his usual tone, barely concealing how exhausted he sounds.

"Hm," Eddie frowns softly. It changes to a smile as he gets an idea. "How much would it cost?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Me gettin' to take care of my lil' bug for the night! How much?"

Howdy blinks and touches his chin, taking in the thought. He chuckles weakly, sighing. His top set of hands set against Eddie's own on his cheeks, and his bottom set rest on Eddie's shoulders.

"I dunno' Eds, what'd ya have on you?"

Eddie digs one hand into his pocket, and comes up with a few glittery stickers and a slightly melted chocolate bar. "Uhhh- I think I'll pay with a joke," he chuckles.

"Lay it on me!"

"Heh. Do you know why babies born on holidays are more likely to be little girls?"

"No, why?"

"Cuz there's no mail delivery!"

Howdy's nose scrunches and he snorts out a laugh that turns into a much louder laugh, covering his mouth with his hand and hugging his own stomach. "Mail delivery! Oh my!" He settles, looking much more relaxed as he lets himself lean on the counter. "Alright, alright. You can call up Frank."

Thirty minutes later, the three are together in the apartment above the bodega, Eddie and Frank fussing over Howdy. Frank picked out pajamas for him - green ones with red stripes on the pants. Eddie washed his pacifier since it was hidden in a drawer, and coaxed him through the embarrassment of using it.

Frank is laying on the bed with Howdy on his chest - which practically engulfs him under him. Eddie is making snacks for the three of them in the little kitchen. Frank lets out a breath, only frowning a little.

"Howdy, it's not good to strain yourself so much. You're only one bug, you can't work nonstop."

"Mm... Make me feel good to work though!" Howdy mumbles around the pacifier.

"I know you like having things to do with your hands all the time, but that's why you have these." He reaches to the bedside table and grabs a little tangle toy and a rubix cube, holding them up to him. "I ordered these so you don't feel like you need to work 24/7."

Howdy closes his eyes and presses his face against Frank's stomach. "Sorry, baba," he mutters.

"You're not in trouble, bug," Frank sighs. "Eddie and I love taking care of you, but you also need to care for yourself." He pets his hand through Howdy's hair, just soft.

"Who wants popcorn and candy!" Eddie calls as he enters with two big bowls held aloft.

"Eddie! Don't hold them that high, you'll fall!"

Eddie chuckles, and successfully makes it to the bed. It's a small one-bug bed, so they all have to squish together. Howdy's antennae point towards the candy, wiggling softly. "Y' hungry, lovebug?"

"A lil'," Howdy says as he pulls out his pacifier. "Only had breakfast."

"Howdy!" they both scold in unison. Howdy giggles, covering his face.

"Sorry pa, sorry baba."

"Well, at least eat now," Frank says, shoving the bowls towards him. Howdy nods and complies with no fight, grabbing food with all four of his hands and eating quickly.

"I feel like we need... Like a chore chart, but for takin' care of yourself."

"That's an excellent idea, Eddie. And I know you are already planning to craft it very pretty for him."

"O'course I am!" Eddie puffs his chest, grinning at Howdy. "I know this baby bug loves everything I craft!"

"I do!" Howdy says, excited by the idea as well.

Eddie digs in his pocket and pulls back out the three stickers. Little glittering hearts. He peels them and sticks them each to Howdy's cheeks with a 'boop!' Howdy smiles, and it's not exactly happiness. It's more of a release. Allowing himself to let go of the stress, and fully slide into regression.

He does get less talkative now, seeing as he regresses to around 2-3 years old. Eddie and Frank don't mind one bit, chatting and snuggling up to him while all of them snack. The sun goes down outside, and Eddie declares it a sleepover. All three pile close together in that little bed, Howdy sandwiched peacefully between his pa and baba.

sfw interaction only

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

Low Turnout for Trump’s Tailgating Party

Stephen Jay Morris

6/14/2023

©Scientific Morality

            Oh, you should have read the Tweets on Twitter’s cyber bulletin board! The Chuds were as histrionic as a high school drama major. One Tweet read, “We will avenge the deep state in indicting our patriotic leader President Donald J Trump! Blood will be flowing in the streets of Miami! Signed American Warrior!” Well, the only thing flowing was sewage from a busted pipe in the street gutters of Miami—which is a normal occurrence in that city.

The only glamour that’s ever come out of Miami was in the 1980’s TV crime drama, “Miami Vice,” with its pastel colored clothes and buildings, fast sports cars, and 80’s music on the soundtrack. Florida has become the premier state of reactionary politics, alligators high on meth, and White Trash criminals robbing convenience stores. If you like tornadoes, tidal waves, or unbearable humidity in the summer, Florida is your state! There’s lot of racism against Afro-Americans and Latin migrant workers. Jewish retirees are subjects of Anti-Semitic jokes. That is, unless you’re a WASP or an exile of Communist CUBA.  White Catholics are treated as second class Aryans unless they’re Conservatively correct.  No wonder the state is shaped like a penis. Does that mean America is no longer identified by the pronouns she/her?  America is a Trans-nation?? Florida’s governor, an Italian American named Ron DeSantis, thinks he is going to beat Trump for the presidency in 2024. He cannot stop using the word, “Woke” anytime he’s on camera, in public. Does he have a solution to Florida’s infrastructure problems or natural disasters? No! But he swears he is going to stop the woke agenda! Whatever the fuck THAT is! He’s already promised that, if Trump is convicted, he will pardon him. Yes! That is the way to get Trump votes!

Well, leading up to yesterday, there were promises made to the public, over cable TV and social media, that fifty thousand, enraged Trump supporters, armed with pitchforks and torches, would show up in Miami and tear down the federal court building! A contingency of Proud Boys had committed to come and beat up Left wing, counter-protesters. Militia groups were going to march, AR 15s at their side, ready to use them if provoked. They were to begin a second civil war in America!

So, what happened? All in all, about 250 Trump supporters showed up. It amounted to what looked like a Trump campaign rally in Montana. “Blacks for Trump” showed up, all 9 of them, though it was more like a low turnout for a tailgate party for the Miami Heat in the parking lot of Kaseya Center. The Heat just lost the NBA championship, by the way. I’m sure Miami is proud of their team.

The only action reported was that of a Baby Boomer “Woke” protester. He was wearing a 19th Century era, black and white striped prison uniform, and holding a sign that read, “Lock Him UP.” At one point, he ran in front of the motorcade to try and stop it, but Secret Service agents immediately pushed him aside and onto the ground. Miami police took him away in handcuffs.

In the end, Trump entered a plea of “Not guilty,” and then he and his team went on their merry way to a campaign rally at his New Jersey golf club.

The next time I go to traffic court, I want my own motorcade paid for by the taxpayers.

[circular-time]

I'm not 100% clear on the Bastard Man archetype, although I think Avon might be one? But you're bang on about how the guy who's just trying to get by, even unethically, comes off sympathetically in a sliding scale of morally gray characters. That was something Blake's 7 brought to TV before grimdark, grittier and edgier dystopias found their way onto TV or even mainstream cinema (Blade Runner came out soon after it was over).

I feel like Vila's archetype, the thief/trickster, may be a little different from Bastard Man (tm). As I struggle to articulate why, you make me realize that, while the thief out to cheat the system and help himself used to be quite popular when I was growing up in the 70s through early 90s, that archetype may have lost ground in the past decade or two, while more badass, hard-edged "Bastard" antiheroes have become more common (again?)

I'm remembering Mouse in Ladyhawke, Ferris Bueller, Aladdin, or even Bilbo in the Bakshi Hobbit. Sometimes, the thief isn't the lead, but a supporting character like Vila: see Hoggle the Dwarf in Labyrinth or Ergo the Magnificent in Krull. And there's the more swashbuckling variant: Han Solo, Westley, Zorro and a rash of Robin Hood revivals starting with that wonderful Robin of Sherwood series which emphasized disenfranchised ordinary peasants breaking laws imposed on them by an unjust ruling class.

In a classist society, a thief's misdemeanors are pardonable, even celebrated, by others on the lower rungs of society.

I think after 9/11 and the rise of the surveillance and police state in the UK and US, that lawbreaker archetype fell somewhat out of favor in popular media, or at least among studio execs. (I guess the role was already being redefined by police procedurals and court dramas in the 90s). More recently, reality TV and cop dashcams have traded in fictional thief characters for real petty criminals who need to be busted and are certainly bastards, while the police apprehending them are valorized. As you say: context.

On top of all that, the surge of of black and white thinking in a lot of US society (I'm not sure about the UK) doesn't easily tolerate characters that occupy messy gray areas. The purity brigade divides people into Good and Sinners. I don't think Ferris Bueller would be made today. Would Blake's 7?

One final thought. Look at the evolution of the character of classic Doctor Who, whose sonic screwdriver used to be simply a lockpick, and who never really explained who he was or what he was doing, other than trespassing in a stolen Time Machine. Heck, the First Doctor kidnapped his companions. Yes, after a rocky (pun intended) start, he generally did good deeds, but he didn't outright declare himself to be a champion of righteousness or a defender of anybody. He just blundered into situations and chose sides, usually siding with those classified as outlaws or disreputable by the local Powers That Be.

I feel like the modern Doctor is much more That Bastard (affectionate, derogatory), with a harder edge, a hero who's done awful things. (The classic Doctors occasionally did things that modern fans now take for granted were Bastardish, but writers back in the day, much like British imperialists back in the day, didn't seem to notice the collateral damage or messier implications of his actions. They were just spinning yarns. Despite flirting with Darker and Edgier Six, I think they didn't really figure out just how much of a bastard he was until Seven's final season.)

I'm not sure I'm right in some of these observations, though. And I've strayed rather far from dear old Vila. But anyway, you've made me think.

It's funny how whether or not a fictional character qualifies as a Bastard Man™ or not is entirely relative to the characters around them.

Like, take Vila from Blakes 7. In most shows he would be the Bastard Man™. He's a drunk. He's an unrepentant criminal. He's a thief, and a liar, and a cheat, and con artist, and proud of all that. He's a self-proclaimed coward. But the world of Blake's 7 is so unrelentingly awful and cruel and everyone in it is so unfailingly cold and hard and cynical that the fact Vila still has any warmth to him at all and the simple fact he's upset by killing makes him in comparison the sweetest and purest of characters who deserved so much better.

[you-are-my-joy]

The Return of an Empress | 07

Title: The Return of an Empress

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut (Later on), Slow burn

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Word count: ~9k

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Masterlist 

<< previous chapter  | ♡ |  next chapter >>

In the 380th imperial year, on June 9th, two days after the nobles were caught red-handed and thus apprehended, was the day of the largest massacre of high nobility in the history of the empire. 

At 8 am in the morning, a total of 18 of some of the most well-known and influential nobles of the empire were executed by the city plaza.

With tired steps, you trudge inside your bedroom, immediately falling onto the comfort of your bed. You let out an exasperated sigh, tossing your head back until it rests on a nearby pillow. Despite getting rid of the duke and the rest of the nobles, you can’t help but still feel a sense of unease and tension. Would the original empress make the same decision? You don’t know the answer, but what you do know, is that you’ll most likely be haunted by the cries and screams of those who lost their lives today for the rest of your life.

It’s one thing to actually read of the graphic murders and deaths that occurred in the novel, it’s a whole different story when you actually experience and see first hand how gruesome the public executions truly were. Back in your world, you’ve never witnessed anyone’s death before, as it was the 21st century, public executions were prohibited decades ago. But suddenly you had to endure an entire morning witnessing the horrifying deaths of 18 people as their heads detached from their body, a large pool of blood staining the once clean pavement. 

You weren’t keen on torturing people, so you were merciful in the sense that you chose to execute them through a beheading, with a fresh and sharpened axe to be exact. In this world, beheadings, although gruesome and bloody, were seen as the most ‘humane’ form of execution as the deed would be done in one swift motion, a painless execution to some extent. 

You remember hearing many of the nobles and commoners who attended the public executions express their disappointment at your choice, thinking you were being much too kind considering the heinous crime they committed. Despite their disappointment, they were slightly relieved over your choice, many were still skeptical over the empress’s supposed changed behavior, but seeing you wince and grimace at each beheading finally convinced them otherwise. 

News spread like wildfire around the empire about what had occurred at the party, news articles being published nearly a day later. The most popular topic of course being the Grand Duke himself drugging the empress, and so countless of nobles all around the empire scurried to watch the spectacle. Thus, the grand finale of the execution came when former Grand Duke, Lee Joong-Gu finally stepped forward. 

Many people had looked at him in disgust, throwing rotten fruits and vegetables his way and cursed out his name. The entire time, he wore a solemn expression as he kneels down without complaint unlike the rest of the criminals who wailed pathetically until their last breath. 

You remember that in the midst of it all, he had looked up at you, your eyes instantly locking with one another, and you swear from where you stood, you saw a hint of remorse and guilt in his face. Your mind reeling as he tearfully mouths ‘I’m sorry’ to you, but before you could even react any further, the axe gets raised in the air and in the next second is swung down with much force. His head rolling down the pavement as the cheers of the crowd rang out excitedly at the gruesome sight. 

However, the cheers seem to fade from your ears as all you can focus on is the dukes rolling head. And somehow it stops, facing in your direction, empty eyes that were once so full of life, ingraining themselves in your memory forever. You blink away the tears forming in your eyes, confused as to why your body was reacting like this. You flinch as you stare at his body slumped over, but your view gets blocked when Jungkook steps in front of you.

The entire morning, Jungkook and Taehyung have been right beside you, acting as your escorts as you had requested. Always attempting to block your view when they noticed your grim and disgusted expressions at each beheading. Jin and Namjoon were also present, but they stood a few meters away from you, ensuring that the executions ran as quickly and smoothly as possible. Hoseok was present as well, but as the general, he was in charge of security and surveying the city plaza, prioritizing your safety over everything else.

The only ones who hadn’t shown up were Yoongi and Jimin. Yoongi, you had expected, though you had a glimmer of hope that he would make an appearance, but Jimin? You thought he would come to greet you after the party, but you haven’t seen him since he left you by the ballroom doors. You were extremely worried, thinking something bad had happened to him, but Namjoon reassured you that he was fine as he had ran into him the other day. He further informs you that Jimin wasn’t feeling good, which explains his sudden absence. Though you remained unconvinced, you choose to give Jimin his needed space, thinking it would be better for him to come to you when he was ready.

When the executions were over you stood up from your seat, ready to leave the area in a hurry as the overwhelming stench of blood nearly made you puke on the spot. But suddenly you heard loud cheers as everyone directed their attention to you, “All Hail Empress Y/n!” many of them yelled out, grinning at you as they praised your actions. 

You hadn’t expected to be well received so quickly, since less than a week ago, some of these same people trembled in fear over your presence. You send them a charming smile to express your gratitude, but this only seemed to ignite something in them as they seemingly cheered your name even more.

Despite the cheering, all you wanted to do was go back to the palace and rest. So here you are, groaning as you lay flat on the spacious bed. You feel the bed dip slightly to your left, prompting you to open your eyes to see Jungkook looking down at you with a small smile. “How are you feeling?” he reaches his hand out to gently brush a strand of hair in front of your face. 

“Absolutely exhausted,” you let out a groan, closing your eyes once more. And you weren’t only talking about the past few days. It seemed that you were never truly able to catch a break the moment you arrived in this world. You can’t even imagine the amount of work the past empress had to endure. 

Taehyung, having found comfort in your couch situated in the middle of your grand bedroom, hums at that, “Mentally or physically exhausted?”

You scoff before letting out a yawn, “Both.” 

Jungkook nods as he moves his hand away from your face to lazily trace shapes on the palm of your hand, “I'm sorry to hear that your majesty,” he replies, sending you a pitiful look, as he notices traces of stress and exhaustion written on your face.

Still with your eyes closed, you rest for a moment, “It’s fine. This is my duty as the empress.”

Jungkook nods, “I understand, but before you’re an empress, you’re a human. You need to rest, your majesty,” he says, concern laced in his voice as he continues tracing odd shapes on your palm. 

Though after a while, you’ve come to the realization that rather than shapes, he was actually tracing your name on your skin.

You open your eyes to stare at Jungkook who was too distracted writing your name to pay attention to your gaze. You just stare when a sudden thought crosses your mind, “Hey Jungkook, can you try calling me by my name?”

Jungkook seems to freeze in his spot, his hand stopping right above yours as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Pardon?” this seems to gain Taehyung's attention as well when you see him from the corner of your eye snap his head instantly in your direction.

You shrug, sitting straight up now facing him. Both your faces nearly inches apart that Jungkook instantly blushes and shifts a bit further away from you to calm his racing heart, though you take that gesture as discomfort instead, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to?”

Jungkook stutters as he waves his arms in front of his face in an ‘X’ shape motion, “N-No, It’s not that I don't want to… but why are you suddenly asking that of me?” Both Jungkook and Taehyung stare at you in a mixture of confusion and interest since they haven’t addressed the empress by her name in nearly 3 years. Not after she had scolded the both of them until they complied to her wishes. 

“I figured we might as well go back to our old ways you know?” you suggest, but after taking in their shocked reactions you quickly add, “Of course if you’re uncomfortable with my request then I don’t want to force you to do anything. But I do give you permission to call me by my name when it’s just us.”

Jungkook turns his head to Taehyung as they look at each other wearily, as if doubting your words and thinking this was all just one big test. He hesitantly turns back to you, “Is that truly alright?” he asks while fidgeting nervously with his hand. 

“Of course it is,” you smile reassuringly, your eyes staring at him in anticipation, “will you?” You ask, you try to hide your excitement in order to not pressure him, but who were you kidding, it’s practically written on your face.

Jungkook’s lips curve upward slightly as he couldn’t deny your request, especially when your golden eyes shined brightly at him, “Yes…. Y/n…” though he had said it in a shy whisper, you still heard him loud and clear. You didn’t think hearing your name come out of his mouth would affect you so much but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling widely. It’s times like these that you’re extremely grateful for sharing the same name as the old empress. 

“Woah that’s not fair,” you turn your head to find Taehyung with his arms crossed, playfully glaring at you both, “why does he get special treatment and I don't?” 

You chuckle as Taehyung's pout reminds you of a child who got their toy taken away and wants it back. Your amusement grows even more as you sit back and watch Jungkook be equally as childish when he sticks his tongue out at the older knight. And Taehyung, the ever mature knight, mimics his actions in return. 

You grin at the older knight, wanting nothing more than to ruffle his hair, “this applies to you as well Taehyung.” 

Taehyung finally turns to you after seemingly having a contest with Jungkook on who can contort their face in a mocking way better, “thank you… Y/n,” he replies softly with a gentle smile now on his face. 

They’ll admit, addressing you by your name sounded strange coming out their mouth, but they couldn’t deny the nostalgic and warm feeling in their chest when they finally did. And your smile definitely brightened their day even more.

“Y/n.” you hear Jungkook call out softly, though he flinches when he gains your attention. 

You furrow your eyes in confusion at his odd reaction, “Yes?”

You notice his cheeks glow with a tint of red, “Sorry, it’s nothing. I just wanted to say your name in front of you,” the ending of his sentence becoming a soft whisper as he was embarrassed to have been caught by you. But he should’ve known better than to believe your ears wouldn’t catch him. 

You have to mentally slap yourself to stay calm and composed as to not squeal in delight to embarrass him further. So to spare him, you fight back a giggle as you beam back at him, “you’re more than welcome to call me by my name anytime you want Jungkook.” Gaining a wide smile from him in return.

“Y/n?” Taehyung suddenly calls out, causing you to face him now. Though he chuckles at your raised brow, “I’m not just calling out your name, I genuinely have a question.” You chuckle right back, nodding your head, gesturing to him to ask his question. “Are you still feeling sick?” You understand he wasn’t referring to earlier, rather he was talking about your symptoms from withdrawal. 

Thankfully after properly taking medication daily or as suggested by the royal physician, you’ve been experiencing a lot less symptoms as the days go by. Joy reminding and ensuring that you actually took them definitely helped with the process. 

You nod sending him a soft smile, “no, I’ve been feeling a lot better nowadays. Though, I’ll admit I kind of want to throw up. But I’m pretty sure the main perpetrator to that is the blood.” Despite having left the plaza awhile ago, you seemingly couldn’t get rid of the stench of blood in your nose. Even just the thought of it makes you involuntarily gag. 

Jungkook softly chuckles, “from being in countless battles, you’d think you’d get used to the sight of blood,” he jokes with a teasing glint in his eyes as he grew bold enough to hold your hand after tracing on it for so long.

You stare down at your joined hands, his large ones nearly covering yours completely. You feel him squeeze your hand lightly prompting you to look up at his mischievous grin as he caught you staring. You playfully roll your eyes, “it’s been awhile, alright, I forgot,” you grumble.

Though Taehyung hums at that as leans his head back on the soft cushions of the couch, “you seem to be using that excuse quite often,” he mutters, not looking you in the eye, but instead choosing to stare out your window.

At his statement, you gulp nervously. You immediately take note from the corner of your eyes the prying look of Jungkook as his hold on your hand seems to tighten. 

But before you could come up with yet another excuse, you hear a knock at your door. Someone was definitely looking out for you as you had no idea how to respond without you being even more suspicious than before. 

You sit up straight, briefly glancing at your knights who refuse to look you in the eye before calling out, “come in.” You quickly let go of Jungkook’s hand causing the boy to snap his head in your direction before his shoulders seemingly drop. Though he doesn’t say anything more as the doors to your bedroom open wide.

Soon enough, the double doors reveal Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin. They bow out of respect before briefly making eye contact with Jungkook and Taehyung, to which they send a curt nod, acknowledging each other’s presence.  

For some reason, you felt a shift in the air as the three men stepped into the room. As if they were... hostile? But that doesn’t make sense, you question. Shouldn't they be on good terms with each other? You thought, but you were so wrong when you could feel the tension around you. Something unspoken between the five males. 

You understand that you haven’t known these men for long, but even you could tell that there was a sudden shift in their relationship. You saw it in the ballroom and now your suspicions are confirmed when you observe their body language in front of you.

After many moments of silence, Namjoon finally turns his attention to you, “more of those journalists keep requesting for your time your majesty,” he reports, only now do you notice his tired eyes. He must’ve been dealing with those journalists since he got back, and from what you know, they’re almost as ruthless as those in high society. 

But before you could respond, you hear Taehyung let out an annoyed groan from where he sat, “They bombarded her all throughout the morning, can’t they give her a break?” he scowls when turning his head out the window as he caught a glimpse of those pesky reporters from the border of the palace walls. Their cameras steadily aimed at the palace, hoping to capture a lucky shot of the empress. 

“It’s alright, I can handle them,” you reply, having already mentally and physically prepared yourself for this since you knew this would be a hot topic in the empire. A topic that the reporters wouldn’t let go of until they were satisfied. But just as you were about to stand from the comfort of your bed, you feel a hand gently rest on your shoulder, prompting you to turn and find Jungkook staring at you in concern. 

“Y/n, you need to rest,” Jungkook says softly, “you truly did look sick early, maybe it's from withdrawals or maybe it's from the blood, who knows, but I think it’s best you rest for the day.” You knew it would be hard to go against Jungkook, especially when he had that determined look in his eyes. Though that wasn’t what everyone else was thinking as his statement piqued their interest. 

“Y/n?” Jin questions loudly. He had thought he was hearing things, but by the looks on Namjoons and Hoseok's faces, he indeed did hear correctly. Jungkook had addressed you by your name. 

The boy blushes, not having realized he had blurted out your name in front of them. But before he could explain himself, Taehyung beat him to it.

“Y/n gave us permission to call her by her name,” he boasts with his head held high as if he was bragging about some great achievement he got. Which in a way, it kind of was. 

Hoseok raises his brow as he turns to look at you now, “may I know why?”

You clear your throat, “well, when I got rid of the alcohol and drugs in my system, I wanted to make things right and go back to how they were before. So I gave them permission to address me by my name like old times,” you reply confidently, having already prepared an answer for this question long ago. 

Though after some time, Hoseok’s blank face shifts, “I see,” he replies with a smile, but you knew better than to trust that, you knew hidden in that expression was a man that still had doubts despite witnessing the downfall of the nobles before his own eyes. You had thought Namjoon would be the one you needed to be careful of, but it seems you were wrong in that sense as you become anxious at Hoseok’s judging stare. 

Jin clears his throat, an attempt to get rid of the growing tension in the room, “we also came to discuss plans regarding the property of the nobles as well as what's to come with their families and who would be the ones to take their positions,” he pauses before nodding his head in Hoseok’s direction, “we brought along Hoseok in case military services were needed.”

You nod, though you couldn’t help but wonder, “Where’s Yoongi?” 

Jin stills for a moment before tilting his head, visibly confused from your question, “why are you suddenly asking for him?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you furrow your eyebrows, “Because he’s also one of my advisors,” you answer as if it was obvious. 

As if sensing your confusion, Namjoon responds, “pardon our rudeness, your majesty. You just don’t normally call on him for these types of things.”

Now you’re even more confused than before, “I don’t?”

Namjoon nods his head in confirmation, “I believe it’s because he’s not from nobility, that it may hinder and influence his judgment on these types of cases,” he explains in the nicest way possible. 

Dumbfounded, you remain seated on your bed, “I see,” is all you could utter. You knew that out of the 8 of you, the only ones who came from nobility were Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok. Their families were one of the few nobles who secretly opposed the former emperor, which made it easy for the main character to gain their support in the rebellion. There’s no doubt that Hoseok’s military family, Namjoon’s intelligence, and Jin’s abundant wealth, had an immense influence on the success of the rebellion. 

Of course that’s not to say that the others are any less important. Jungkook and Taehyung were among the best of the best in terms of strength and fighting, not to mention Jimin being an ace when it came to agility and swiftness. They had the skills to go against opponents 10 times their size, and yet somehow win. The three were known to be the best fighters in the empire, after the empress herself of course. Afterall, they learned everything they knew from her. 

Yoongi on the other hand, proved himself to be worthy to stand by the empress’s side as an advisor due to the fact that when it came to forming tactics, he always had the perfect plan to go along with every scenario. Much of the rebellion's success was derived from the various attack plans that Yoongi came up with.

He also knows how to handle her the best out of them all. He knows how to approach her when she gets mad or upset. And he is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to go against her if he needs to, only with her and the empire’s best intentions in his mind. 

But when it came to politics, Yoongi had a harder time due to the fact that he was just a village boy who didn’t receive the same amount of education as Namjoon or Jin. Granted neither did Y/n, having been born from the same village, but she was so determined to become the empress that she worked strenuously day in and day out in order to fit the role. Having Namjoon as her teacher definitely helped the process run smoothly. 

Sure Yoongi isn’t as book smart as Namjoon, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t smart at all. You know that despite things being said about him, his words and inputs at national council meetings have proven to be of great help to the empress and the empire in the past. 

And so without another word, you stand up from your bed with a newfound determination. 

Jungkook and Taehyung eye you in concern. “Y/n?” Jungkook asks, reaching out to hold your hand, causing you to stop in your tracks. 

“I’m going to go and personally find Yoongi. Regardless of our differences, he’s still my advisor, and his presence is just as important as every single one of you.” You feel Jungkook loosen his grip on you, allowing you to slip away from his grasp. 

“Shall we escort you there?” Jungkook asks tentatively, while Taehyung had already stood up, prepared to follow you on your command. 

But instead, you shake your head, “Considering what transpired last time, I don’t think it’d be wise to bring either one of you two along,” Jungkook rubs the back of his neck while Taehyung turns away as they’re both suddenly reminded of the way they had behaved towards Yoongi. Although they were opposed to the idea of you going alone, they couldn’t argue with your statement, since even they don’t know how they would react if they were in each other's presence again. 

“I’ll accompany her majesty,” Hoseok suddenly speaks up with a raised hand, resulting in everyone turning their heads in his direction, “I think it should only be fair after all,” he pouts, lowering his hand to cross both his arms across his chest. 

Namjoon raises a brow at his claim, “Fair?”

Hoseok nods as he accusingly points at every man in the room other than himself, “Every single one of you have spent more time with her than me, that's why I think it’s only fair if I escort her,” he declares with a puff of his chest. 

Taehyung scoffs at him, “Can you blame us? We’re her escorts, of course we’re going to spend more time with her,” he fights back a roll of his eyes due to Hoseok being of a higher rank than him. 

“Exactly, so I hope you don’t mind me stealing your ‘Y/n’ for the time being,” and before you could even utter a word, Hoseok strides towards you, reaching for your arm and practically begins dragging you out the room, “see you boys later!” 

Jin shakes his head disapprovingly as he watches Hoseok roughly pull you, “would you be more careful with her majesty!” 

Hoseok scoffs, “She’s not weak,” he responds as he turns around abruptly, your chest nearly colliding with his if it weren’t for his arms steadying you. 

“I agree, but she’s also not a ragdoll that you could just push around as you please,” Jin snaps back at him, eyes narrowing at the grip on your arm.

Namjoon nods his head at this, “Indeed. Be more gentle Hoseok,” he warns sternly as he shifts his body towards the both of you intimidatingly. 

And you don’t even need to turn around to know Jungkook and Taehyung were both shooting daggers at the general. 

Hoseok sighs and finally lets go of you with his arms raised above his head in defeat, “alright alright I get it. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Though the men in the room only stare at him with unconvinced expressions as he smiles innocently right back.

You stifle a laugh at their reactions and begin to turn to leave, “we’ll be leaving then,” at this you turn to stare at each one of them, “while I’m gone. Behave.”

Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms as he plops back down on your couch, “We’re not children Y/n.” But his pout tells you otherwise.

The corners of your lips quirk upward in amusement, “could’ve fooled me.”

He turns to you with an offended expression, mouth wide open and before he could give you a piece of his mind, you scurry out the door with Hoseok tailing right behind you. 

“Y/n!” You hear Taehyung’s voice yells out as he appears by the doorway in a matter of seconds. 

You turn around and almost laugh at his dumbfounded expression. Though, you nearly trip over your own two feet if it weren’t for Hoseok skillfully reaching out and steadying you. You quickly thank him before looking back towards your door to now find the rest of the men staring back at you. 

“We’ll set up a proper meeting tomorrow! See you boys then!” You call out before you’re reaching for Hoseok’s hand. He widens his eyes for a moment staring down at your joined hands before he feels you pull on him in the direction you were running to. 

You could still hear their protests coming from your bedroom as both you and Hoseok run away. But Hoseok can’t help but be more focused on your angelic laughter over everything else. 

“So what did the general want to talk to me about so badly that he wanted us to be alone?” you say finally after creating a fair enough distance from your bedroom.

From the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, “What makes her majesty think I had ulterior motives?” he asks innocently, his pace matching with yours as you both walk down the quiet halls.

You shake your head with a smile, “because you’re Hoseok,” you reply with a teasing glint in your eye. 

Hoseok lets out an offended noise as he dramatically brings his hand to his chest, “That hurts your majesty,” he pouts, “couldn’t I have just wanted to spend some time with you?”

You laugh at this, “Sure, but you and I both know that that’s not the case,” your mouth forming a smile, an attempt to show him you meant no harm. 

Hoseok finally lets the innocent facade fall as a smirk begins to form on his face, “Our empress sure has a sharp mind,” you hum in reply, prompting him to continue speaking,  “you’re right, I did want to talk to you.”

Though after some time walking in silence, he speaks up again, “But I had nothing in particular to talk to you about, I just wanted to see for myself whether you had truly changed or not,” he responds bluntly. 

“Your verdict?” you question with your arms behind your back, a carefree aura surrounding you. 

“Hard to tell for now,” he teases with a wink in your direction, “however, something tells me it won’t be long before I give you my answer your majesty.”

“Well let’s hope it’s an answer we both will like,” a wide optimistic grin now on your face.

Hoseok stares down at you, giving you a small smile in return, “Yes, let’s hope.” 

You two don’t speak for a while, though you can’t say it was awkward. There was a comfortable air between the two of you that you actually didn’t mind walking together in silence. You took this moment to look around the scenery, admiring the window view as you don’t really have much time to do that since Taehyung, Jungkook and even Jimin would often preoccupy your attention, not that you were complaining about their company, you rather enjoyed talking to them. But you can’t help but be grateful for this moment to yourself. So for the time being, you just look out the window, little did you know, Hoseok was staring right at you. 

Hoseok couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight glows on your skin as if you were an ethereal being. Even the slight quirk of your lips mesmerizes him as he watches you bask in the sunlight. A picture perfect moment that he desperately tries to ingrain in his mind. 

“You know, you’re more than welcome to address me by my name as well Hoseok,” you suddenly speak out, turning your head causing the male to widen his eyes momentarily at your abrupt attention. 

But Hoseok’s eyes soften, giving you a small smile before turning his head straight in front of him yet again, “I’ll keep that in mind... thank you.” 

Neither of you speak again after that, just enjoying each other's company in silence. And after everything that you’ve been through, you didn’t realize that this was exactly what you needed. 

“Hey Yoongs”

The man hums, his eyes closed as he lays comfortably against the grass right beside Y/n.

“You’ll be with me forever right?” the young girl speaks up after some time.

At this, Yoongi opens his eyes as he stares at the far away look in her eyes, “Of course Y/n, where else would I go?” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “why do you ask?”

She shrugs looking straight up at the passing clouds, “just making sure,” the wind softly breezing against her hair.

Yoongi nervously laughs as he turns away from her, “Sorry, but it’s gonna take a lot more for you to get rid of me,” Y/n chuckles at this causing the corners of his lips to curve upward at the sound. “Unless I got it all wrong. You’re not trying to run away from me once you become empress are you?” he questions with a teasing tone. Though he had a smile on his face, he couldn’t deny the feeling of anxiety at the possibility of her leaving him.

She scoffs before turning away, “Of course not, what would I do without you nagging me all the time, you’re practically my brother at this point.”

Yoongi feels a pang go across his heart as he faces away from her, “... right… you just see me as a brother huh,” he mumbles, more so to himself but she could still slightly hear him.

She tilts her head in his direction, “hm?”

Though he just shakes his head, “Nevermind,” now sporting a more cheerful expression as he nudges her shoulder playfully, “so suddenly I’m your brother huh?”

She nods her head, turning away from him, focusing her attention back to the sky, “Of course you are, what else would you be?” she genuinely asks.

Yoongi stills for a moment before responding with a long sigh, “Nothing,” he pauses, watching the clouds pass by both him and her as they lay on the grass in peace, “absolutely nothing.”

“Her majesty told me about it and left the job to me,” Jin responds in a tired voice as he lets out a sigh. If he had known accepting the empress’s orders would lead to this, he would’ve never done so in the first place. Because not only does he need to deal with a pile of work, but also a very pissed off Yoongi. 

“Why would she give you all the work and not me?” Yoongi asks, tone slightly offended and irritated. 

“I don’t know Yoongi, why don’t you just ask her yourself,” Jin replies tiredly as he massages his temple at his growing headache. It’s not that he wanted to get rid of Yoongi, but because he himself couldn’t provide him an answer to his question. He too couldn't understand why Y/n would give him all the work instead of him, frankly he wishes she would divide up the work evenly but alas, that doesn’t seem to be the case as every inch of his desk is nearly covered in piles of documents. 

Yoongi lets out a huff of air before standing abruptly. Jin stares at him and widens his eyes when he notices that he’s about to leave. Nervously he stands from his seat as well, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask her myself,” Yoongi replies as if it was the most obvious answer, his hand reaching for the door handle.

Jin gasps, “I wasn’t being serious!” he moves around his desk to grab hold of the advisor.

But Yoongi shakes his head, stepping back from his reach, “I know you weren’t, but you’re right. If I want change to happen, I need to go to her myself,” he watches concern wash over the older male before placing a hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, I won’t lose my cool,” he says in an attempt to reassure him.

Though both Yoongi and Jin knew he was lying. He was just telling him what he wanted to hear. Jin wanted to stop him, but in the end, he lets it go since he knows that once Yoongi’s got his mind set on something, it was nearly impossible to get him out of it, ”fine, but I don’t want to hear about you getting sent to the dungeons again Yoongi.”

Though Yoongi only chuckles, “I won’t get angry, don’t stress about.”

And boy was he wrong, because it hasn’t even been 10 minutes that he walked into her office until hell broke loose. 

“Just let them handle it Yoongi, why are you so upset, I’ve given you plenty of work before,” she barks angrily.

“I’m upset, because you never give me the same amount of work as them!” He snaps back at her, tone equally as harsh. 

She nearly growls at his attitude, “Would you relax Yoongi, it’s just pieces of paper! If I had known you’d get so fucking irritated over it I would’ve sent the entire pile to you if that’s what you really wanted!”

That’s not what he wanted. He wanted her attention, her trust, he wanted to be the first person she sought out when she needed help.

He wanted her. 

“Y/n-” he gets interrupted when Y/n grabs a pile of documents and throws it in the air in front of him. He watches as the pieces of paper float down everywhere in the room, making it look as if a tornado wrecked havoc in the area. 

“Here! Just do it all for all I care, they’re just damn pieces of papers anyway,” Y/n growls tiredly. Yoongi could not have come at the worst time. Not only did she have to deal with a raging headache, but now her own advisor was yelling in her face far too early in the morning for it to be tolerable. 

She could feel her head ringing at the volume of his voice, but when she told him to leave as she wasn’t in the best mood to argue, he kept refusing stubbornly, insisting she listen to his complaints because apparently what he needed to say was so important to go against her orders. And so when she realized his important reasoning was because he was upset over his workload, her anger only rose from there. 

With her already sour mood, him snapping back at her surely didn’t help his case either.

“I have way too much shit to deal with right now, don’t add onto it Yoongi,” she spats loudly, the piles of paper covering nearly the entirety of the floor around them. 

His shoulder drops, finally coming to terms with everything as he stared into the once cheerful eyes narrow dangerously into tiny slits.

The girl before him, was never and will never be his. 

For the past few days, Yoongi had been actively avoiding not only you, but everyone else. No matter how hard they tried, neither Namjoon or Jin could reach out to him. It was almost as if Yoongi somehow knew just when and where everyone would be to successfully avoid them. 

In the beginning of the empresses reign, no one took him seriously because he wasn’t from noble descent like Namjoon and Jin. when they would attend national council meetings, no one spoke directly to him as if his previous status of a commoner was still intact. And so he had to put on this whole ruthless persona for people to show an ounce of respect for him. He had to exert more effort to prove to everyone that he was equally as worthy as the other two advisors. That he was capable of doing the same amount of work, even if he didn't receive the same strenuous education as them.

And because of the comparison between him and the other two advisors, insecurities were born and shattered his mind. 

So seeing you put your trust in Jin and Namjoon hurt him a lot more than he would like to admit. The fact that they both knew and yet you hadn’t brought it up with him once was like a shot to his heart. 

And yet throughout his time spent alone, Taehyung's voice echoes in his mind.

“When was the last time you ever treated her as one of her advisors? When have you ever truly cared for her majesty?”

He groans out of frustration at the entire situation. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he was right. When was the last time he treated her with respect. Even though the rest of the boys joined the rebellion with him, never once did they blatantly disrespect the empress the way he did. 

And with the current situation, he doesn’t even think he deserves his position of advisor anymore. Never in his life did he imagine that someone was drugging the empress. All this time, he’s been bitterly blaming the empress about the current condition of the empire when in reality, it wasn’t even her fault. He pushed her away when she needed him the most. When she was suffering he unknowingly made things worse. And because of that, he doesn’t even know if he has the courage to face the empress ever again. 

Yoongi freezes when he hears a tentative knock at his door. Slowly, he raises his head from his hands before responding in a loud tired voice, “who is it?” ready to curse out the person on the other side of the door.

“It’s me hyung.” 

Yoongi widens his eyes at the familiar voice that he can’t help but rise from his seat. He carefully walks over and finally opens the door to reveal Jimin’s figure standing before him. For a moment, the two men stand opposite of each other in silence. 

“I need to talk to you,” Jimin finally says. Yoongi nods and steps aside for him to enter, still in complete disbelief that he wanted to speak to him after everything that’s been said between the two in the past month.

As if reading his mind, Jimin turns to him with an uncertain smile, “You’re probably wondering why I'm here,” Yoongi only nods, unable to produce words at this point. Jimin stops at the center of his office before continuing, “I know we’re going through a rough patch right now, but at the end of the day, you’re still someone that I deeply care about. You’re my brother and I’m just worried about how you’re taking the situation,” he explains with a nervous expression. 

Yoongi’s eyes soften, of course they weren’t on good terms at the moment, but Jimin was right, at the end of the day, they’re brothers. He could never truly hate or get mad at him, or any of them for that matter unless they truly betrayed him. 

Jimin wasn’t certain this would be a good idea, unsure how the older male would react to his presence. And so when he hears Yoongi let out a chuckle, although not so enthusiastically, that alone causes Jimin to visibly relax.

Just then, Yoongi lets out a long sigh, “I’ll be honest, I feel like shit. But I know she’s probably going through it way harder than I am,” he finally replies as he rolls his neck.

Jimin nods, “I’m sure she is,” he mutters looking away.

Though Yoongi raises a brow, Jimim’s tone almost hinting at the fact that he doesn’t know about your feelings which was surprising to Yoongi since he knows how close he is to you. At that realization he furrowed his brows, “you haven’t spoken to her, have you?”

Jimin seems to stiffen at his claim, he contemplated lying but knew the older male would see right through him anyway, and so he just shakes his head, “no I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

Jimin lets out a low chuckle, “I wasn’t able to keep a promise with her,” he answers softly, running his fingers through his hair.

Now Yoongi was even more confused than before, he wanted to ask more questions but felt like now wouldn’t be the right time based on the downcasted look on the younger man's face. And so he only nods in return. Though Jimin’s lips quirk up, grateful that he doesn’t push the topic further.

Jimin leans against the back of his couch, crossing his arms, “I saw you that day,” he added, wanting to change the subject. “The day at the ball,” he clarifies when he saw the puzzled look on Yoongi’s face. 

“You attended the ball?”

Jimin shakes his head, “no I was watching from above, her majesty wanted me to be her ‘eyes in the sky’, or something like that,” he pauses before chuckling, “she’s been saying some strange things recently.”

Rather than laughing along with him, Yoongi can’t help but feel annoyed, “Of course you fucking knew about it, too,” he mutters furiously under his breath.

Jimin widens his eyes at his sudden harsh tone, “Pardon?” 

Yoongi scoffs, now stomping his way to his desk, “The empress told you of her plans,” Yoongi uttered with resentment, “everyone but me.” 

And as if the world wanted to continue mocking him, here you appear through the open door, with Hoseok right beside you. You freeze in your spot, when you realize Jimin, who was now staring at you like a deer in headlights, was also present in the room. Despite his surprise, he bows out of respect. Though you can’t say the same about Yoongi.

“What are you doing here,” Yoongi curses at himself, he didn’t mean to take his anger out on you. You just happened to arrive at a bad time. 

Though his cold icy tone doesn’t deter you in the slightest, “I came to inform you that we’ll be holding a meeting tomorrow,” you explain hesitantly, careful not to say the wrong thing to aggravate him even more.

He raises a brow in doubt, “you came here to personally tell me?”

You nod, “the rest of the men wanted to have a meeting regarding the situation, but I didn’t want to attend if you weren’t present.”

Yoongi scoffs, “I'm not some charity case.” Although, Yoongi can’t deny the warm feeling in his chest from what you said.

You stop, taken aback from his words, “Is that what you think you are?” you pause before continuing, “Why do you think you became one of the empress’s advisors?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at this, “Because you think of me as a brother,” he spats bitterly. 

“No, it’s because you’re one of the few people I trust most in this world, I know we had a bumpy road getting here, but you have to believe me when I say that I trust you,” you insist as you take a step closer into the room.

Though your statement seemed to have ignited a fire in him as he snaps his head to you with narrowed eyes, “If you trust me so much then why didn’t you let me know about this entire situation?!” You jump back at his tone, surprised by how angry he got.

Hoseok steps forward in an instant, “Hyung I had no idea about the drugs either,” he blurts out, trying to dissipate the tension in the room as he moves to stand in between you and Yoongi. 

Jimin nods in confirmation, shifting his body to stand protectively in front of you as well, “he’s right hyung, Hoseok also had no idea what was going on.”

“That may be true, but she still sought your help, no? She needed military strength, she needed someone to hide in the shadows and she went to you two,” he snaps at them. Hoseok shuts his mouth, unable to form words to counter his claim. 

Though it’s not like Yoongi was going to let anyone else speak, not until he was finished, “Where do I come into play? Jin hyung and Namjoon helped with the plan, Jimin looked out for you from above, Hoseok provided the military strength, Jungkook and Taehyung came as your escorts. But what about me?” At this point, Yoongi paces around the room frantically, you try to reach out to him but he jumps back as if your touch would burn him. 

“Why am I always in last place!” He yells at the top of his lungs, “Is it because I wasn’t born into high nobility like Jin hyung? Is it cause I’m not some fucking genius like Namjoon? Or as handsome as Jungkook and Taehyung. Or as confident as Jimin. Or as reliable as Hoseok?” He continues his rant when everyone is too stunned to react.

“Yoon-”

“Why am I never good enough for you!” He shouts, slamming his fist hard on his desk. The room becomes silenced in an instant. The only sounds coming from the broken advisor standing before you. 

“Am I not enough?” He sniffles, his voice cracking as he stumbles, grabbing hold of the corner of the table to stabilize himself. He bows his head low, an attempt to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

You turn to look at Jimin and Hoseok, giving them a solemn look as you nod your head in the direction of the door, wanting to speak to him privately. 

They seem to understand your gesture as they begin to silently make their way out of the room. Although Jimin hesitates for a moment standing by the doorway. He takes one last look at Yoongi and back to you, his expression unreadable before finally closing the door behind him. 

At the click of the door, you turn your head back to Yoongi, your eyes focused solely on him. Carefully, you take slow steps towards him, you don't know if he notices but if he did he didn’t take any further steps away from you. “Yoongi, you are more than enough for me, you have to believe me,” you urge as you stop a few feet away from him. Careful to not overwhelm and crowd around his space. 

His silence urges you to continue, “I just felt like you didn’t want anything to do with me so I gave you your space,” you explain softly, “But you’re still one of my advisors, I should’ve communicated with you better on the situation. I'm sorry.” 

You take a few experimental steps towards him, assessing his reaction carefully because if you saw any indication that he was uncomfortable by the distance, you would step away immediately. But he gave you none. Even when you were now standing in front of him, he didn’t make an effort to move away. Instead, he finally lifts his head, holding your stare as his tears now running down his face. 

You don’t know what got over you, but at the sight of his tears, you find yourself reaching your hand out until they cup his face gingerly. His breath hitches when your hand caresses his cheek, your fingers wiping away the seemingly never-ending tears.

“Yoongi, you’re more than enough for me,” you repeat softly as you stare into his eyes. Almost mesmerized as his glossy eyes shined back at you making it look as though you were staring at the night sky.

You lean your body forward until your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him into a tight hug, “I’ll always need you,” you say in a soft whisper. But no matter how quiet you were, he heard you loud and clear.

He sucks in a breath as a sob escapes his mouth. He doesn’t try to fight you, instead, he wraps his arms around your waist instantly, tightening his grip around your body.

But instead of calming down, his sobs grow louder at the feel of your body against his.

Concerned, you try to pull away but Yoongi only tightens his grip around you as he shakes his head. 

“Don’t,” he whimpers softly, clutching onto you tighter as if you would slip away forever, “please don’t leave me. Not yet,” he cries out. Your heart nearly shattering at the sound of his voice cracking. 

Your eyes soften as you once again relax in his arm, your hands rubbing his back reassuringly as he continues to cry, his tears falling onto the nape of your neck. “I won’t,” you soothe gently, “I won’t leave you Yoongi.”

He sniffles once more, “You’re really back?”

You don’t have it in you to respond with a straight answer. You just couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him like that, especially in his current state. Lying to his face knowing that the empress he knew was no longer the owner of this body. That you were a completely different person, but who in their right mind would believe you. 

So instead, you nod softly, reaching a hand to run through his hair. His tears stream down his face as he chokes back a cry at the feel of your nod. 

You smile bitterly, as you have to keep reminding yourself, the girl he loves isn’t you, it’s the empress. He’s not crying for you, he’s crying for her. 

You had seen this coming, but it still hurt a lot more than you had expected. The world for some reason just wouldn’t stop being cruel to you. 

A young man approaches the darkly lit room slowly, the only source of light being the fireplace that’s barely holding onto life as it seems as though it’s about to die out at any moment.

“Master, I’ve come with urgent news,” the boy announced, news so important he fidgets in his spot nervously as he anticipates his reaction. It’s silent in the room, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire as the wood burns. 

There, sat in front of a large window was the boy’s master, he had not turned around to face him, instead, opting to stare up at the moon as it shines brightly down on him, “Speak,” he commands in a dominating voice.

The boy nods his head, “We received a report confirming the death of Grand Duke Lee Joong-gu as well as Sir Taehyung, Sir Jungkook, and Sir Jimin stepping down from the rebellion.”

The man hums, immensely intrigued by the sudden news, “and the others?”

The boy shakes his head, “there have been no reports being made of the others stepping down as of this moment master, though many speculate it’s just a matter of time at this point.”

The man bellows loudly at that, as he leans back comfortably in his chair, his eyes shining with mirth, “I told that damn duke not to get too greedy and look what happened. He got caught,” he scoffs as he turns fully around, hands crossed on his desk as he traces the letter he had received from the late grand duke a mere few weeks ago in a bored manner, “Seems what that fool said was of concern after all, her majesty has truly changed.”

The boy nods, “What do you suggest we do now?”

He turns back around, admiring the night sky, “tell my men to continue keeping an eye on her majesty. And report everything to me.”

The boy bows, “yes master,” he responds before turning away, ready to inform those of the new orders. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man whistles as he leans back on his chair, “so you truly did succeed in changing the story,” he chuckles and with a dangerous glint he stares up at the moon, “I can’t wait to meet you, new empress.”

A/N: Hey guys!! I’m so sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter, I had to focus on my final exams and all the assignments my professors piled on me at the end of the semester. So I tried to finish this chapter as fast as I could!

I hope you’re all happy with how things went in this chapter. Also sorry for all the drama, I just felt like it would be better for the reader and Yoongi to make up instead of making more chapters of them avoiding each other when they could just communicate about their feelings. 

Thank you everyone for supporting and reading my story! I also love receiving all your kind messages so thank you so much for that!

And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Tagslist: (those in bold, I’m not sure if it worked for you, I’m really sorry, I’m not sure how to fix it) (I also apologize if I forgot to add someone, just comment again and I promise to add you in the next one!!)

@reallysparklychaos, @unknownsageking, @casspirit0705, @fangirl125reader, @silscintilla, @serefara29, @chimtaesty-main, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @diamonddia-mond, @vishakhas-world, @purelyecstacy, @resticou, @woopetals, @magicsweetener, @splaterparty0-0, @daydreambrliever, @strangeobjectmaker, @luna-xial, @m0chilattae, @celaenaelentiyavox, @lindsayjoy444, @layzfeelit, @kimsaerom, @songtiddies, @untamedgrape, @sonnymii, @moonssuga​, @kassandravictoria, @galaxyflab, @blank-et-noir, @nynhope , @midnight1199, @yessii-i, @protontippens, @gguktings, @borahebangtan, @katkrusade, @handsupanddropthepotato, @missseoulite, @cellula-staminale, @red-bow-tie3, @whateveritis616, @ggukkieland, @sbroces, @nnessworls, @yoonieebear

[goodnightmemes]

DEXTER SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS (PART TWO)

Lines taken from 2x07-2x12 of the show Dexter. Feel free to change pronouns or edit in any way to better fit your needs. Here is part one.

❛ I thrive on chaos. But this is good, too. ❜

❛ I had to do a little creative problem-solving at someone else's expense. ❜

❛ Pardon my tits. ❜

❛ Are you trying to fuck her or set her on fire? ❜

❛ Sometimes the truth speaks from a peaceful place. It's taken me a long time to find that place, but I think I have, and it's telling me you're not the right one for me. I'm so sorry. ❜

❛ Is that what I am? Clean? 'cause I don't feel that way at all. ❜

❛ No, I won't do that. I won't let you turn me into you. ❜

❛ Hope you don't expect me to comment on that so you can record it on your hidden tape recorder. I wasn't born yesterday. ❜

❛ Your past is a bigger mystery than fucking Jimmy Hoffa. ❜

❛ No matter what you try, no matter when, no matter how hard you work, I'll always be a step ahead of you for one simple reason. I own you. ❜

❛ When I'm alone and it's quiet, I get scared shitless, like I start hearing what's really going on inside. ❜

❛ 'Cause when you're around, I kind of feel like I can deal with anything, you know? ❜

❛ I've always worked best in the shadows, and that's where I have to stay. ❜

❛ You can't go back. You know that. ❜

❛ You are not allowed to talk about anyone I date as long as you're seeing little Miss "pardon my tits." ❜

❛ She is obviously a vampire. A gross english-titty vampire. ❜

❛ Can't change who I am. I'm crass and dirty, and...I have a very filthy mind. ❜

❛ Jesus Christ. They sell anyone a gun in Florida, won't they? ❜

❛ That man. He wasn't trying to rob you. He was trying to kill you. ❜

❛ Nothing you could do,___, would scare me. ❜

❛ Whatever comes, we'll get through this together. I'm not leaving your side. ❜

❛ I need to embrace who I am, who I've always been. ❜

❛ It's like I've been living underwater, holding my breath, and now I can finally breathe. ❜

❛ ___ almost had me believing it was possible to change, to become something else, as if that ever really happens. I've always known what I am. ❜

❛ I'm finding it's best to accept things you can't change, you know? ❜

❛ Is this the monster that you keep telling me about? ❜

❛ Trust me, when you meet the monster, you'll know. ❜

❛ Nice. My subconscious isn't even bothering with symbolism. ❜

❛ I feel...such regret, which is rare for me. But not that I don't mess up. I do...just never so stupendously. ❜

❛ If they're looking for proof, they won't find it. Not here at least. ❜

❛ Then maybe you should come with us, because who knows what secrets will come ❜ pouring out of me once the drinks start flowing. ❜

❛ I'm done with it and you. Did I not make that clear last night? ❜

❛ Those friends of yours, they didn't even know you. They just see the mask, but I see it all. ❜

❛ Can't live with her. Can't kill her. ❜

❛ Fuck! I'm talking about my feelings. What the fuck is your problem? ❜

❛ I've always sensed there was something... off about him. Like he's hiding in plain sight. ❜

❛ If you got in the middle of this and you got hurt… ❜

❛ The only way I can help you is if you turn yourself in. ❜

❛ Don't you disappear on me. ❜

❛ I want you to know that you meant a lot to me, more than you know, and... I just want to thank you for that. ❜

❛ If I never see her again, it'll be too soon. ❜

❛ Sleep would be nice, but there's too much to do. ❜

❛ Okay, I may be sleeping with him, but it doesn't mean he tells me shit or listens to me about anything, so stop asking! ❜

❛ That's right, motherfucker! It's over. ❜

❛ I knew there was something with you. But this shit? ❜

❛ What can I say? You were right about me. I never held it against you. I don't now. ❜

❛ It's a graze wound. Minor tissue abrasion. No hemorrhage along the bullet track. Sorry. I think I'm gonna live. ❜

❛ If you're not gonna let me go, then kill me now. Just get it over with. ❜

❛ You're a killer. I catch killers. ❜

❛ So it's okay to take a life as long as you get a paycheck for it? ❜

❛ Either kill me or set me free. ❜

❛ Taking a life is one thing, but the care and feeding of it is another. ❜

❛ I'm generally confused most of the time. ❜

❛ You ever care about anyone? Then you shouldn't have to ask. 'Cause when you care about someone, you do what you have to do. ❜

❛ I remember when life was easy, when the only question I worried about was "who's next?" Now it's: "How can I dodge my protective detail? "What should I do with my hostage?" These are not easy questions. ❜

❛ It's not about what I think. It's all about the evidence. ❜

❛ Hair-pulling may not be manly, but it's very effective. ❜

❛ If he wanted me dead, I'd be dead by now. ❜

❛ You are the only one I can count on, jackass. ❜

❛ It puts a pit in my stomach that I can only interpret as... sadness. ❜

❛ You working on an exit strategy? I'm afraid that's not gonna happen. ❜

❛ How come there's never a circus when you need one? ❜

❛ What was that shit last night? Some kind of fucking scare tactic? ❜

❛ Don't test me. I could have killed you. I didn't. ❜

❛ You're actually angry. I've never seen you angry. This is good. ❜

❛ I should warn you. You can't play on my feelings. I don't have any. ❜

❛ It's a tough job. It can wear on even the best of us. ❜

❛ I yell a lot...and bitch and complain, and I keep expecting people to guess what I want, but I never really say it. ❜

❛ And that was exciting, you know? The not knowing. What might happen, what could be. It was all possibility. ❜

❛ Your life is going to rest in the hands of the criminal justice system you put all your faith in. I wish you the best of luck. ❜

❛ You need help. Let me help you. ❜

❛ You don't have to do this! You don't have to kill this man! ❜

❛ Sorry it had to go down like this. But there really was no other way. ❜

❛ Stay away. Just stay away from me. ❜

❛ Did you happen to be stuffing a human leg into a garbage bag at that point? ❜

❛ There's that anger again. You got to let that out. ❜

❛ You're spinning. Let me help you. It's only a matter of time before you'll hurt someone else. ❜

❛ Take responsibility for who you are. ❜

❛ Why can't you just let me go? ❜

❛ If I got to choose a person... A real person... to be like, out of anyone, it'd be you. ❜

❛ Who joined who in the shower this morning? ❜

❛ For such a neat monster, I'm making an awfully big mess. ❜

❛ Maybe this is how evil works. Destroying everything it touches. ❜

❛ I've been held prisoner in a cabin for two fucking days. Fucking hellhole. ❜

❛ After everything we've been through lately, I just want... to be together with you guys. ❜

❛ You told me to take responsibility for what I am. You were right. ❜

❛ I can't live in this house of cards anymore, waiting for it all to fall down. I need to do something, you know? ❜

❛ If I do this, I need a day to get my affairs in order. ❜

❛ Mention that when they interview you for the story of my life. ❜

❛ Don't leave me in this cage, anything could happen. ❜

❛ I lie to everyone I know... except my victims right before I kill them. It's hard to establish much of a rapport there. ❜

❛ Sorry about the cage. ❜

❛ I've always been curious to try. Do you have any weed? ❜

❛ Love's a battlefield. Or in your case, a restraining order. ❜

❛ When a pretty girl smiles and bats her eyelashes, we're powerless to resist. ❜

❛ I met with a lawyer yesterday. He helped me prepare a living trust that gives you control of all my assets in the event of my death or... certain other situations. ❜

❛ God. Go away. This is creepy. ❜

❛ I'm free tonight, you wanna stop by? We'll have beer, a couple of steaks? I wanna talk to you about something. ❜

❛ I just need you to know that... you and the kids are very important to me. No matter what happens, I want you to always know that. ❜

❛ I know I've been taking things slow with us, but it's not because I don't have feelings for you. It's more like I have too many feelings, and I just wanna make sure to get it right. ❜

❛ I want you gone. Tonight. ❜

❛ I've spent a lifetime keeping up my guard, watching my back, wearing my mask. Relief was never in sight until now. ❜

❛ Lately, I was starting to feel like I had my head pretty far up my ass. ❜

❛ You decide who you are, who you want to be...and you hold onto that and ride it out. ❜

❛ I need some help! Just open the door! I'm being held captive. ❜

❛ Damn, it's good to see another face. I never thought I would. ❜

❛ When something beyond reason happens, it turns skeptics into believers. ❜

❛ If you believe that God makes miracles, you have to wonder if Satan has a few up his sleeve. ❜

❛ I can't exactly feel their pain, but I can appreciate it. ❜

❛ I kinda forgot who I was. I got it straight now. ❜

❛ The term is homicidal maniac. Not that I'm judging. ❜

❛ A public place. You thought I was gonna...That I would slip my needle into your neck? ❜

❛ You're afraid of me now, aren't you? ❜

❛ You're emotionally color-blind. You use the right words, you pantomime the right behavior, but feelings never come to pass. ❜

❛ You know the dictionary definition of emotions: longing, joy, sorrow...You have no idea of what any of those things actually feel like. ❜

❛ I created a monster of my own. ❜

❛ What did you do to make her so pathetically crazy for you? Does your dick dance? ❜

❛ What're we doing home in the middle of the day? She asked, hoping for sex. ❜

❛ Why? Why do I have to make up my mind? ❜

❛ I've never put much weight onto the idea of a higher power. But if I didn't know better, I'd have to believe that some force out there wants me to keep doing what I'm doing. ❜

❛ As it turns out, nobody mourns the wicked. ❜

❛ Am I evil? Am I good? I'm done asking those questions. I don't have the answers. ❜

[fandomwriterstuff]

Rewind

Rick Flag x you

Rated T

~6.5k words (I could not turn it into chapters, it didn't work out right)

Warnings: canon typical violence

I highly recommend listening to this song because it is very epic and I listened to it while I wrote the dramatic end scene.

You were a petty thief, a modern Robin Hood; you stole from the one percent to gave to the needy. And you know what? More often than not, the one percenters never even noticed. And every time you got caught you used your powers to get out of the situation. However, you knew a day was coming when you wouldn’t be able to get out of a nasty situation. A feeling of dread was filling up your nightmares and seeping into your waking life. You were filled with anxiety that your next job would be your last. Of course, it was never an issue with your powers. That is, until it became an issue.

You were doing a job in Gotham, a shitty city if you did say so yourself. Nothing like the country home you grew up in. You knew the ins and outs of the city bank. You knew the guard schedules, you knew the camera angles, you knew the passcodes, you knew which day your target would be inside. Bruce Wayne. Local billionaire who wasted his time and money hosting galas for the rich and famous. You loathed the idea of him. He wouldn’t notice a couple million getting lost in the shuffle. You knew everything that Gotham City Bank had to offer. But what you didn’t know would get you caught and sent to a metahuman prison. What you didn’t know was why you’d been feeling the dread of this job creep up on you for weeks. You had a bad feeling about it, more than the rest. So when you walked in, in disguise, you thought nothing of the exhaustion and weakness that filled your body.

You’d barely slept the night before, so it was normal. And this wasn’t a cash job, it was all wire transfers. But Wayne had to be there for the biometrics to work. Unfortunately, he knew all about your little job. He knew and he had you caught. You were confused, at first, when all you saw when you walked in was an empty bank. It was just the tellers looking at you nervously, but there was a swish behind you and you whipped around, military training coming back to you from your brief time in the army as you took a fighting stance to see… the Batman?

“The Masked Marauder,” he mocked you in his autotuned voice. You scoffed, two could play at that game. You were posing as a man today, trying to throw the trail off of yourself. You turned on your voice modulator and laughed haughtily at him.

“The Batman. Fancy seeing you here,” you were unsure as to how Batman was involved with Wayne Enterprises, but you had no doubt he was there for you.

“Feeling a little weak yet? I can see you straining,” you were on guard as he approached you, coming close enough that you could see the stubble on his chin. If you could turn him around so you were closer to the doors you could use your powers to get out of there and make a quick escape. It was easier to change your own position with your powers and not an entire scene, but you could do it if need be.

But he was onto something. You did feel weak. You were tired, your limbs heavy.

“What did you do to me?” You asked, shifting on your feet but trying to keep the charade up. You were masked and cloaked, but he had a nerve-wracking effect on you.

“It’s new technology. Power blockers at every entrance. You’re powerless inside this place,” at his words you backed up, falling weakly towards the ground as your powers were seeping out of you. You tried to use them to get out of this situation, breath shaking and palms sweaty as the seriousness of the situation dawned on you. You were well and truly screwed.

It was only moments before the GCPD came and fixed you with a power-blocking collar, chaining you up in an armored vehicle and sending you on a long trip to Louisiana. You had no next of kin to notify, no friends to take care of your apartment. You were alone.

Belle Reve was a hell of a place. You were brought in under the cover of nightfall and were only given a brief explanation of the situation. You were in a metahuman prison. You had less rights than normal humans. You were being tried for multiple robberies and the associated injuries that people had gained when fighting back against you. You’d never killed anyone, not since the army, but it didn’t matter. The crimes had stacked up. You were looking at forty years in this place.

When they threw you into the cell you were going to stay in, you were relieved to see there was only one bed and it wasn’t occupied. Solitude, at least, was your friend. You could think. You’d have thought it would be less time in prison since you hadn’t killed anybody, but it didn’t seem like it mattered. You shrugged to yourself. It’s not that you had issues killing people, you were in a special metahuman unit in the army before you became the Masked Marauder. You had a different codename then, but working with them had made you a little crazy. You had to see your close friends and colleagues treated with less respect than dirt because of their metahuman status, and you had to see most of them killed in action. You barely made it out, and you came out with a raging hard on for disrespecting authority figures.

You were only in Belle Reve for six days before you met Harley Quinn.

“Live fast, die hard, baby. You gotta do what you gotta do,” was something you heard a lot out of her smirking mouth. If you were in another life, you’d have been instantly attracted to the beautiful blonde, but you had enough crazy in you to not want any more on your plate. Despite the lack of romance between the two of you, you still got close. “As thick as thieves,” Harley would say with a wry twist to her mouth. She loved puns.

“Chronos?” You whipped your head around at the sound of your military nickname. “What the fuck are you doing here you little slut?” Your eyes widened as you recognized one of your previous teammates. Another bad egg, turned away from the army and towards a life of crime.

“Who’s Chronos?” Harley frowned next to you at the lunch table you were at, she hated not knowing things.

“That’s what they used to call me,” you whispered, standing and facing the other woman. You were small in stature, and the Amazon-like woman towered over you.

“Annie,” you knew she hated being called by her real name. She was one of the cocky ones, thinking metahumans were better than regular old humans.

“You’re wrong,” another voice called. “Chronos is a dude,” that came from Blackguard, a weirdo that you were avoiding. You avoided most people, really.

“Chronos is not a dude,” Annie growled, suddenly looking at the smaller man. “You calling me a liar?”

“I think it’s time for us to get out of here,” Harley dug her fingers into your bicep and pulled you towards the rec yard.

“What’s up with you? You normally love people watching the fights,” you wondered, concerned when Harley passed her favorite guard without saying hi. (It was Colonel Flag, the fucking hottest guard at Belle Reve who you’d definitely formed a crush on. You couldn’t help it, he was compassionate and he didn’t spit on you or throw you around or humiliate you like the other guards.)

“You didn’t tell me you had a super secret past with a cool nickname,” she whisper-shouted when you got to a bench and she could slap you on the arm.

“It didn’t come up,” you shrugged sheepishly.

“What does Chronos even mean?” She asked and you were going to explain, but Colonel Flag sat down at the bench across from you with a warm smile.

“Harley, Y/N, just the two people I wanted to talk to,” he then raised an eyebrow at the bruising grip Harley had on your arm. She let go and he frowned at the angry half moon marks her nails had left there.

“Not now, Ricky,” Harley pouted. “Y/N’s been holding out on me! She has a cool secret life and never told me about it!”

“I doubt you ever asked,” he followed up in a deadpan way and you stifled a chuckle. It was true. She could be forgetful and also unobservant. She didn’t exactly ask you about your life a lot. You thought it might be an act, she did have a PhD, after all.

“She even has a cool nickname. What does Chronos even mean?” She asked again, but side-eyed Colonel Flag when he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Chronos? I thought they called you the Masked Marauder. You’re in here for theft.”

“They must not tell you all the deets,” you raised your eyebrows at the man. “Before I was a criminal I was a part of an elite army group of metahumans. But that went to shit and I’m considered a war criminal in several countries. Never got the pardon for working as a part of the US military because they wanted to keep my unit under wraps,” you frowned. You couldn’t ever leave the country because of it.

“Well you’re not going to like the proposal I have for you, then,” he looked like he was regretting coming over to you and you threw a smile on your face.

“What do you need, Colonel?” You asked, tilting your head, but Harley was bouncing up and down in her seat.

“Oh! Task Force X? Is it a new mission?” She looked so excited you nearly didn’t listen to her words. But you did.

“Task Force X?” You asked him, narrowing his eyes. Maybe that’s why he was so nice to you all this time. He was buttering you up. “I don’t think so. I’m not dying today.”

“You get ten years off of your sentence for every mission you do-” You cut him off.

“You had me at ‘ten years off of your sentence.’ Say no more. I’m in,” you grinned, shark-like, at him. He had the wherewithal to not look confused at your sudden change of heart.

“It’s always fun, like weeding out the weak!” Harley exclaimed as you were ushered out of the briefing with Amanda Waller, a woman who terrified you and chilled you to your core. You felt okay though because Rick was going to be your commanding officer. It had been three weeks since your conversation with him outside in the rec area. Three weeks and your relationship had shifted just enough to make you feel safe in his capable hands. If it wasn’t the genuine human respect he gave you, or the dirty looks and reprimands he gave the guards who manhandled and mistreated you, it was the lingering fingers brushing against your back when he led you places and the warm smile he had just for you.

“Flag,” you smiled softly as you passed him on the plane.

“Chronos,” he smiled back. You knew it was commonplace to call each other by their names (Bloodsport, Blackguard, Chronos, etc), but you felt a twinge of fear. This was your first time using that codename on a real life mission since you left the army. But, when Rick came up with a fancy electronic screwdriver and unhooked your power-dampening collar, you felt such a high. You were ecstatic, your limbs felt light, you felt like you could go a million rounds against Mayweather, you wanted to fuck-

“Am I missing something? Isn’t Chronos a dude?” Blackguard asked, again, and you scowled.

“Chronos is a myth, man. This is clearly just someone with the same name, right?” Boomer nodded towards you and you gave him a tight grin. But before you could respond, Rick did.

“She’s definitely Chronos, and you better hope her powers aren’t mythical,” you grinned at that. He had your back. However, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to save them all if it all went to shit. For several reasons.

You hadn’t used your powers since arriving at Belle Reve, so you didn’t know if you were at 100%

You only had certain amount of power over large situations, so you’d likely only be able to save yourself and a few others

You didn’t care enough about these fuckers and they didn’t care about you. Your priority was to get out alive with Rick and Harley

That’s when Harley made her first appearance to the team. She was apparently good friends with Boomer and you mentally added him to your list to keep alive.

After you set off, things happened quickly for you. You made eye contact with Rick (yes, you were mentally calling him Rick now, because you wanted to fucking date the shit out of him), and made small talk with Harley as Blackguard freaked out about Weasel. But when you dropped and made your way to shore, you stuck close to Rick. He had your back and you had his.

As it turned out, Blackguard had set you all up, giving your location to the enemy and getting his face blown off for his efforts. You watched as your elite team of killers was picked off one by one. Harley had run off and you were panicking that you didn’t have an eye on her. You needed her to get out of this alive.

“Follow me!” Rick shouted, nodding his head towards his intended destination - the forest.

“But Harley and Boomer are-” you shut your mouth as Mongal’s actions finally took their toll on Boomer. But maybe you could fix it, if you could use your powers-

“No, we have to get out of here, or we’re next,” Rick grasped at your arm and dragged you into a full out sprint towards the forest, gunshots echoing behind you. You slapped his hand away once you were deep in the forest, though the sky was darkening you cut your eyes to his.

“Harley is all I have,” you spat.

“She’s my friend too, you know,” he frowned. You’d never used that tone on him before. “She can handle herself,” as much as you were loath to admit it, he was right. She was crazy but she could get out of nearly any situation. You sighed and bent over, hands on your knees as you calmed your breathing.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” you muttered, but you gasped when a sudden pain shot through your right bicep.

“That was a warning shot,” you heard a voice call out in accented English.

“A warning shot?” Rick shouted as he crossed over to you, pulling you close to him and inspecting the wound. It went straight through, but it was bleeding badly. “Warning shots are supposed to be in the ground, not at people,” he spat, considering running but you were in too much pain and losing too much blood. “Don’t use your powers in front of them,” his lips brushed against your ear and you nodded imperceptibly. You wouldn’t want to show your hand.

“Take the colonel,” a woman’s voice called and you glanced at him, wide eyed as they dragged him off of you.

“Hey, hey!” He shouted, reaching out as you fell to your knees, putting pressure on your wound. If you could stifle the bleeding until they left you alone you could use your powers to fix it.

“Leave the girl,” the voice passed by you and you stared at Rick, panicking but unable to stop them as three men held him back and dragged him away. You couldn’t help but think this was the worst case scenario. The enemy was taking your leader but you had lost too much blood to put up a fight.

As the rest of the enemies passed you, you sat back on your heels, but one of them roughly bumped into you, making you lose your grip on your arm. The blood flow was back at full force and the world turned black around the edges. You were alone. You put your left hand face up in front of you, and your right hand an inch above it face down. Your hands were parallel to each other and you tried to gather your strength to use your powers, but you couldn’t. You hadn’t used them in so long and you had lost a lot of blood. The last thought you had before you lost consciousness was of Rick’s panicking face.

You awoke to gentle hands cleaning your wound with what you assumed was water and opened your eyes when you felt a tight bandage wrapping around your arm. It was a young girl, younger than you.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” she smiled softly.

“She’s awake?” A gruff voice came from behind you and you craned your neck to see a team of people behind you.

“Let’s get going then” another man said. “You patched her up, she can go on her own from here.”

“Who are you?” You asked the girl.

“We’re the Suicide Squad,” the dark skinned man growled. “Here to collect our Colonel.”

“No,” you sat up, quietly thanking the girl for patching you up. “I’m a part of the Suicide Squad,” you squinted in the early morning darkness. Was that… DuBois?

“Bloodsport?” You asked cautiously. Were these all other prisoners from Belle Reve?

“Who are you?” The guy in red and white asked you… Was that Peacemaker?

“They call me Chronos, but you might know me as the Masked Marauder,” you spoke cautiously.

“The thief? Why would they have a thief on a mission like this?” Peacemaker asked and you shrugged.

“My powers are useful for other things.”

“Chronos is a myth though, right?” A smaller man walked over to you, in a suit you didn’t recognize.

You shook your head. But that wasn’t the point, you had picked up on something DuBois had said.

“You’re looking for the Colonel?” You stood and approached the group, which apparently included a shark man.

“Yup, Colonel Flag was taken by enemies and is alive at their camp. He is our first mission,” DuBois spoke and you nodded.

“I’m coming with you. Colonel Flag helped me get out of the bloodbath at the beach. The enemy camp people shot me and took him away,” you frowned at the thought and the girl - Ratcatcher 2, she had specified - gasped.

“Why didn’t they take you, too?” She asked.

“I think they knew I wasn’t important. They noticed immediately that Flag was a military officer and took him away.” Likely to be tortured, you thought to yourself but didn’t say aloud.

“Well, let’s get going then,” Peacemaker said brightly and the group of you made your way to the enemy camp. You were lost in your thoughts on the way there. You weren’t sure whether or not you would kill anybody. Maybe hurt them or knock them out. You hadn’t killed since your time with the military. But they’d taken Rick and left you for dead. So you had very little qualms hurting them.

Turns out, it didn’t matter. Bloodsport and Peacemaker made what was almost a competition out of who could kill the most people in the sneakiest ways, but it got bloodier and bloodier as the rest of you approached the glowing tent. You heard laughter and glanced in, borrowed gun pointed in as you parted the flaps of the tent. But you immediately put your gun down. Rick was shirtless and all patched up, laughing with a woman who you’d seen the dark of the night before. You couldn’t help the rising feeling of jealousy, you’d never have that with Rick. The easy jokes, the equal ground. You were a prisoner, and you would likely die as one. But you couldn’t help the breathy “Rick,” that came out of your mouth when you realized that he was okay, and he wasn’t being tortured by enemies. He snapped his head over to you and stood.

“You’re okay,” he made his way over to you in three long strides, as if he couldn’t wait to be near you, and your heart swelled at the thought.

“So are you,” you whispered, and took a moment to look him over and let your body sag a little. You’d been so worked up that you had barely felt the pain of your wound.

“I didn’t know you were important to each other, I wouldn’t have let them shoot you,” the woman sort of apologized with a half smile and stood. “Let me get you something for the pain.”

It was then that she noticed the very silent camp, commented on it, and that’s when you looked down at your feet. Whoops, you’d let Bloodsport and Peacemaker kill an entire camp of rebels. People who were technically on your side. Waller had given you bad information.

Rick brushed a hand down your good arm and gently held you, pressing his thumb into your elbow as if making sure you were okay, that your pulse was strong.

“I was so worried,” he muttered, and you were sure only you heard it.

“So was I,” you looked up into his eyes, and if there wasn’t an audience, you would have kissed him then and there. Alas, you had another mission. Well, two. The first was to get the Thinker. The second one was to get Harley, and that was a plan you were ready for. You were down to clown, as Harley might say. As long as you had Rick by your side, you could do anything you set your minds to.

The Thinker would be frequenting one of his favorite bars, and as you left the shark dude in the bus you felt yourself relaxing a little upon entry. You knew bars. You knew how to blend in. You glanced over your shoulder, you couldn’t say the same for your teammates. So, you slinked away and found your way to the bar. The leader of the rebel camp provided you with a pair of stretchy black skinny jeans and a MCR band t-shirt. You’d fought harder battles in more confined clothing, so this wasn’t too bad.

“Una cerveza, por favor,” you spoke fluently. You grew up in the country, but your family was affluent and taught you several languages so that you could travel safely and easily.

The bartender smiled and grabbed you a bottle, and you watched the team gather around a table. They stuck out horribly, and you shook your head. Maybe with a few drinks in them they would loosen up, you watched as Peacemaker ordered drinks and nursed your own. You used to like drinking with friends, but other than Rick (and the missing Harley) you didn’t consider these people your friends. You had a tentative relationship with the Ratcatcher 2, and you were beginning to begrudgingly like Bloodsport. But, Polka-Dot Man freaked you out, Nanaue had the English understanding of a kindergartener, and Peacemaker was a dick.

“You going to join the team?” You failed to notice Rick coming over to you, and rolled your eyes, taking a sip as you mulled over your answer.

“Only if they start looking more interesting. You look like a bunch of tourists. I’d like to gather intel,” you scrunched up your nose at Rick and sipped at your beer.

“Yeah, you really look like you’re gathering intel, darlin’,” it was Rick’s turn to roll his eyes. “Sitting here, sipping on a beer and staring at us.”

You scoffed. How dare he call you out. But it was true, you were busy judging the team to actually get any good information.

“Fine, I’ll join you,” you swigged the last of your beer and glanced at the bartender. “¡Uno más!” You exclaimed, and the man smiled at you before grabbing you another ice cold bottle.

“You speak Spanish?” Rick raised an eyebrow at you.

“I speak a lot of languages,” you shrugged and took a swig of the drink before making your way to the now empty table. It seemed like your compatriots decided to go dancing. That left you with Rick.

“Oh yeah, and how did you come to know so many?” He seemed genuinely interested, though you were hesitant to talk about your past.

“My parents were diplomats and wanted me to be able to travel with them, so they had me learn Spanish, French, German, and Russian by the best tutors money could offer,” you shrugged, sort of stilted, at his curious glance.

“And I thought you were a thief because you were poor,” he shook his head with a smile. “Waller has very little info on you so I wasn’t sure.”

“My parents were cruel, and utilized their money to help bad people get into power,” you looked down at your lap. “I resent the things they taught me. And I tried my best to right the wrongs that people like them did.”

Rick sobered up and placed a hand on your arm.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he frowned and brushed his thumb over your skin. “I knew a little bit about your thievery and who you robbed and why, but it makes sense now. You were trying to help. I get it,” he sighed and took a sip of his drink while you downed yours. You hated talking about your family. You wanted to move on to something else. Anything else.

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” you sighed, brushing your hair out of your face and looking up into those beautiful eyes.

“What would you like to talk about then?” he whispered, not willing to break the reverie you were in. You were close, closer than you should be.

“I want to talk about you, Colonel,” you smirked and placed a delicate hand on his thigh. He dragged his eyes from that hand slowly up to your face.

“What do you wanna know, beautiful?” He smirked and blinked those pretty eyes at you. You’d both had too much to drink. It was a little scary making the first move, but you found him incredibly attractive and you were 99% sure he returned your feelings.

“I want to know,” you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. “What those lips would feel like against mine,” you wondered aloud, and his sharp inhale was all you had to go on before a gentle hand was turning your face to his. The kiss was gentle, tentative even, but that’s not what you wanted. You wanted everything that Rick Flag could give you and you tightened your grip on his thigh, hoping to convey your thoughts, when everything went to shit. Peacemaker jerked Rick away from you and Cleo pulled you towards a darkened corner of the room.

“They’re asking for IDs,” she hissed, pulling you towards where you saw Abner had the Thinker.

“But what about-” she shushed you as you glanced back, making strained eye contact with Rick. Maybe you could use your powers to get out of this. But… You looked at the Thinker. This was the mission. You looked back at Rick. Would you get your brains blown out to save him?

You made your way to the exit, finding your way to the van and getting out of there. You were only vaguely paying attention while you were in pursuit of the truck holding your … friends? You panicked for a moment when it crashed, and when you pulled to a stop you sprinted out of the van and over to the fiery wreckage, thoughts racing about what could have happened to Rick when he, Bloodsport, and Peacemaker burst through the doors like some sort of boy band.

You couldn’t care less though as you threw yourself into his surprised arms and pressed your lips to his.

“That was stressful and I didn’t like it,” you muttered against his lips, barely noticing Bloodsport rolling his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Rick smiled and pulled away to look down at you. “This is pretty nice.”

You scoffed and grabbed at his hand, not willing to let go just yet, and dragged him to your vehicle.

“Shut it,” you muttered as you all gathered. All he responded with was a light chuckle.

Your next mission was saving Harley, but as it turned out, she was no damsel. You were on your way into the place she was being held when she walked down the street towards you.

“Hey, guys! Whatcha doin?” She was smiling brightly and you rolled your eyes at the situation before hugging her.

“We’re here to save you, obviously,” you muttered and she looked from you over your shoulder to Rick.

“You came back for me?” She whispered and Rick came over to you, Bloodsport rolling his eyes in the background.

“Yeah, it was a really good plan, too,” Rick muttered, but still hugged back when Harley threw herself into his arms.

“Well I can go back in and let you save me,” she offered and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not necessary, Harley. Now that we have you we can get back to the mission,” you patted her on the back and nodded to the rest of your team.

Now, you could say that you acted heroically and saved the day, but you and your ragtag team… You were amateur heroes. It was a shitshow. You were setting up explosives with Nanaue when you had that bad feeling again. The one you had when you were going into that bank in Gotham. Maybe it was your intuition, but you knew some shit was about to go down.

“Keep at it!” You shouted at the King Shark and raced your way down the stairs to where Peacemaker and Rick were headed. If you remembered their part of the plan correctly, they were with the Thinker, but something went wrong when you were about halfway down.

“Fuck!” You shouted as you heard a great BOOM. They’d set off the explosives too early. Maybe you should have stayed… You looked up at the dust coming down from above. Your brain was telling you to get out before the building collapsed on you, but your gut was telling you to make it to Rick.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you chanted as you raced down the stairwell, crumbling concrete raining down as you danced around to avoid it. Your stomach cramped in warning, and you crouched into a ball as the floor beneath you gave out and you fell several floors. When your falling came to a halt you took stock. There was rubble above you, but not crushing you. Your breathing was heavy and your heart raced as you clawed your way towards the fluorescent lighting. You grunted and groaned as your fingernails cracked and your fingers bloodied, but you were not about to die here.

You crawled out into the open and peered through the dark, dusty hallway. You didn’t see anybody, but you heard a scuffle and made your way towards the grunting and smashing sounds. The alarm bells started going off in your brain again, and you started running. Your feet pounded against the jagged edges of concrete on the ground but you didn’t stop. You whipped your pistol out when you came to the source of the sounds, but you froze.

Your eyes took in the scene very quickly, and you knew there was a decision to be made. You saw Cleo’s figure in the dark corner, eyes shining in the dusty haze. The others hadn’t seen her yet. At first glance, Rick was atop Peacemaker, and your initial thought was that he was winning this fight. But his eyes, wide and shocked, locked onto yours for merely a moment before he collapsed forward, a dead weight, and all of your breath left your body.

You also saw Peacemaker’s eyes shoot to a computer chip that had scattered across the floor right before you came in. Right before they shot over to you.

But you knew this: Peacemaker didn’t know who you were. He had no clue what you were capable of. He roughly pushed Rick’s body off of himself, but you were faster.

You put your hands in front of you, parallel to each other, and green mist started swirling around between them. You hadn’t had to use your powers to alter a scene this big or intense before, usually just using them on your own body, but you could do this. For Rick.

Suddenly everything slowed down, Peacemaker was still lying on the ground, Rick was face-first in the rubble, and Cleo was crouched in the dark, hand reaching out to the chip.

But you were alive as your powers raced through you. You had seen yourself in a mirror once as you used your powers, and you could imagine how you looked to them. Glowing green veins covered your skin as you altered the fabric of the universe itself. A wind picked up in the room, swirling in tandem with the green mist in your hands. You only needed a few moments. You didn’t need to go back and stop the fight, you just had to stop Peacemaker. You contorted your fingers and molded the green mist to your liking before throwing your arms wide, the green mist expanding to encapsulate yourself and the two men. You didn’t need to include Cleo, she wasn’t involved. The wind whipped around, the green mist blinding everyone but you, and things started to go into motion.

It would all happen very quickly for everyone involved. Just a rewind. But for you, you had to painstakingly watch as Rick’s body rose above Peacemaker, and you had to watch as the ceramic in his heart was drawn out. You had handcrafted this reality and you were forced to watch as your handiwork took place. But you had gotten to the moment you needed. They were near the end of the fight, Peacemaker had slammed Rick into a wall, and with a wave of your hand, the mist disappeared and everything was clear.

“Wait, what?” Peacemaker shot his eyes over to you, but he was too slow in his understanding. You had already whipped your pistol out of its holster and shot him twice in the throat. He grasped at his, trying to stifle the bleeding and crumpling to the ground, but your eyes were focused on Rick. A very shocked, but very alive Rick.

“What did you do?” He asked, and you weren’t sure if that was disgust or wonder in his voice, so you turned, walked slowly over to Cleo (who had witnessed the whole thing through a haze of green), and picked up the chip.

“I believe you were looking for this?” You asked, holding it out in front of yourself to him. He gulped, walking over to you, but your strength was draining from with a display of your powers. When he pulled the chip out of your hand and tucked it into your utility belt, you wavered, edges of your vision darkening as you slowly knelt to the ground.

“What are you doing, we need to get out of here?” Cleo shouted at you, but you waved her off.

“I just need to sit for a moment,” but your voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

“No you don’t,” Rick hauled you up by your armpits and lifted you into his arms, princess-style. “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered and followed Cleo out of the rubble and into the daylight. You squinted, the bright sun blinding you after being underground for so long.

“Shit,” you muttered, shoving your face into Rick’s neck to avoid the light.

“So,” he sounded very casual and you tensed up. “I really thought you weren’t going to use your rewind powers at all, what happened to make you use them?” You bit your lip, not sure what to say.

“Peacemaker killed you,” Cleo answered for you and Rick stopped walking. You winced and looked up at his face.

“I panicked,” you whispered, not sure how he was going to react. But when he turned his head to face you, it was as if he was looking at you for the first time.

“You saved my life?” He asked and it was your turn to gulp.

Okay, so maybe you had feelings for Rick. You knew that. He was a hot piece of ass, and he was kind, and he respected you. And you kissed at the bar and after the van chase. So he definitely knew you liked him. But did he know your feelings were deep enough to save his life and endanger your own in the process? Well… Now he did.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to lose you to that prick,” you tried to shrug it off, but Rick gently let your legs fall and your feet touch the ground. You weren’t sure what was happening until he reached out and pulled you into the warmest, most all-encompassing hug you had ever experienced.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, and you let yourself sigh and sink into the hug.

“Yeah well now you owe me one,” you muttered jokingly, trying to slightly ease the seriousness of the situation. He squeezed you tightly once more before pulling away and smirking.

“Anything you want, you can have,” he smiled that sunlight-bright smile at you and you blinked at him once before returning his smile.

“You can take me on a date once I’m out of prison, how does that sound?” You asked and his smile widened.

“I can do that.”

“That might be a lot sooner than you think,” Bloodsport had walked over to you and (you assumed) Cleo had explained everything to him. You blinked.

What did he mean by that?

Apparently he meant he was going to threaten Waller and keep the information hostage. It wasn’t exactly what Rick wanted, but he got out with his life, and you didn’t have to go back to prison. You were thinking about it as you settled into your new apartment, only two weeks after fighting Starro and killing Peacemaker, your first kill in years.

You were sitting on your comfy couch watching reruns of Adventure Time when Rick called you.

“Hey,” you answered warmly, and smiled at his voice when he responded.

“Hey, yourself. What’s up?” You drew a blanket over your lap and muted the TV.

“Just relaxing. What’s up with you?”

“I was thinking, how about I take you on that date tonight? I’ll pick you up at seven?” If your instincts were correct, and they usually were, he was nervous about it. He was unsure you would actually want him, considering how sheltered and uneven your relationship had been before. You were quick to dispel that.

“That sounds lovely, Rick,” you couldn’t help but bite your lip in anticipation when he hung up a few minutes later. You also couldn’t help the excited squeal you let out and the little dance you did. Things were finally falling into place.

[be-a-snake-stab-your-brother]

Re: the Hawkeye trailer and the Steve Rogers musical...

I'm just imagining our favorite 100-something year old crumudgeon ex-assassin getting stuck in Midtown for some reason. Maybe he's on a Wilson family outing in New York. The boys want to see Times Square, but Sam has to head uptown for a press conference at the Apollo and Sarah's across the river catching up with friends in Jersey.

Ugh. Jersey.

And so Bucky's stuck on babysitting duty, stuck in the horror that is 21st century Times Square, a place he would never go of his own volition. Behave, Sam had told him before heading uptown. Grab a picture with Elmo, he had smiled, clapping Bucky hard on the shoulder before disappearing into Times Square Station.

Damnit.

Bucky supposed it could be worse. He could have had to go to Jersey.

And he's behaving. Really. The Winter Soldier would already have punched out at least two Elmos and knived a suspiciously aggressive Big Bird. Okay, so maybe he elbowed the yellow monstrosity with his vibranium arm when the bird-man (why was his life full of people overly-obsessed with birds?) tried to corner Bucky and the boys into taking a photo. And maybe AJ and Cass had asked, Uncle Bucky, what's wrong with Big Bird, as the gargantuan lout doubled over, trailing greasy feathers into an overcrowded Starbucks.

That guy? Bucky had pasted on his most charming smile, dropping his consonants in a pale imitation of a long-forgotten accent. Probably ate something from one of those sketchy hot dog carts, he pointed across the street. (Bucky would have doubled over, too. Six bucks for a Nathan's, un-frickin-believable. Hydra should have subjected him to that to begin with and saved them all the time and trouble.)

He steers the kids up 7th avenue, past a throng of humanity crowded around a pan flute ensemble battling with some break-dancers, hanging a left onto 44th, doing everything in his power to traingulate a wide course around the Applebee's that so proudly announced itself on 42nd Street.

Applebee's, he scoffs. Christ. These tourists come all the way to New York to eat at freaking Applebee's.

And that's when he sees it looming on the horizon. The bright, bumblebee banner accompanied by a tinny rendition of some third-rate Sousa march, the whole thing engulfed by a small army of tourists taking selfies as if their lives depend on it.

Rogers: The Musical! The facade proclaims in impossibly patriotic lettering.

"What the fresh hell is this?" Bucky mumbles, eyes rolling so hard he thinks they might come out the back of his head. (Not possible, an unhelpful voice reminds him. Hydra tried that. Multiple times.)

"Woah, Uncle Bucky!" AJ exclaims, tugging at Bucky's sleeve, pulling him towards the florescent, gaping maw. "I thought Steve Rogers was on the moon?"

I wish I was on the moon, Bucky grits internally as AJ and Cass whip out their phones almost as fast as the Winter Soldier could pull a knife, snapping photos of the cast, of characters that look suspiciously like Sam and Rhodey and that bastard Stark, rest his soul and all the rest of them. He does a quick once-over of the mural. No sign of a metal arm and the only person with long, dark hair seems to be wearing some freaky set of golden horns.

Bucky counts it as a win.

He stares at the eyesore of an advertisement as the boys continue to take videos and photos and livestream superhero poses and whatever else kids their age do on the internet. (He still isn't entirely sure what the hell a TikTok is and doesn't want to know). Bucky situates himself behind a seven-foot high replica of the damned shield that's been erected in front of the theater. It's enough cover to not be caught on camera, but good enough vantage to keep an eye on AJ and Cass.

He needs a plan. And not a Star-Spangled one.

On one hand, (Heh...hand. You're becoming a regular comedian in your old age, Barnes.) burning down the theater is probably on the exhaustive list of actions that would get his pardon immediately revoked. But that's only if he was caught. Which he wouldn't be. He was better than that, he was the damned Winter Soldier, after all.

Bucky rubs at his forehead, cursing under his breath in Russian. No, scrap that. Arson was never his preferred method and he doesn't want to put a whole bunch of underpaid, overworked actors out of a job. He's an (ex)criminal and an (ex)terrorist but he's not an absolute asshole.

So. Nothing illegal (it's not illegal of you don't get caught) and no one can get hurt (but everyone's gonna get hurt watching this thing. Me in particular).

"Uncle Bucky!" Cass calls. "Want to take a selfie?"

He'd rather buy one of those six-dollar hot dogs and swap tongues with Elmo. "That's okay, kid. Knock yourselves out." The last thing Bucky needs is his ugly mug in front of Steve's shitty musical blasted across the internet.

God damnit, Stevie.

A quick search on his phone provides some measure of relief. Rogers: The Musical isn't set to open for another few months and tickets are already sold out for the next year. Bucky's certain Sam could get them in (hell, Sam will probably get a gold-plated invitation to opening night), but it allows Bucky time to make a plan, maybe even arrange a convenient disappearance into the wilderness for a while. He can say he's getting back to nature as part of his recovery. Or something like that. The Alaskan tundra can be very nice in winter, he supposes.

Several months later, Captain America - aka Sam Wilson - attends opening night of Rogers: The Musical with his family in tow. Sarah is resplendent in a long, shimmering violet dress, smile wide, eyes twinkling as she talks to reporters about her nonprofit ventures in Louisiana. AJ and Cass, all dolled up in their miniature tuxedos, can't stop tugging on each other's sleeves as they walk down the red carpet to the flashes of paparazzi, striking Captain America poses to the delight of the gathered crowd.

And if Bucky is somewhere up in a forgotten projection booth, having easily evaded multiple layers of federal and private security, tapping his foot along with "Star-Spangled Man with a Plan?"

No one would ever have to know.

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ eighteen

➻ pairing: ot8 x fem!reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 6.6k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

mists of celeste act two ➻ part eight

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Seonghwa steps out of the bathroom with a towel in hand and wet strands of hair clinging to his forehead. You glance over at him from your place on the bed, body already showered and bundled up under the layers of blankets and sheets. Seonghwa’s gaze is as soft as his smile as he looks over you. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open though, and if you stay bundled up like this, you’ll fall asleep at any second.

“You look tired,” Seonghwa says as he rubs the towel over his dark hair.

“Do I?” You huff out a small laugh. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“I went easy on you,” Seonghwa remarks, smile stretching his lips wider. You roll your eyes at his light-hearted comment and pull the sheets up to your chin.

“Do you need to go see Hongjoong now?”

There is a breath of hesitation, and Seonghwa lets the question linger in the air for a little while before pursing his lips.

“Yes. I should’ve gone sooner, most likely.”

“Don’t get chewed out.”

“I’m sure I will regardless,” Seonghwa laughs as he turns back to the bathroom, continuing to rub at his hair until it’s mostly dry. You watch him from your spot on the bed, too tired to move much. “Will you be okay on your own?” He asks as he comes back into your room.

“Yea, I should be. I’ll probably just sleep.”

“Okay, that’s good. You need the rest.” Seonghwa darts his tongue out to moisten his lips. “I’ll come get you for dinner.”

“As long as you don’t try to carry me in there.”

“Right, of course. You can walk just fine on your own, is that it?” Seonghwa doesn’t wait for you to respond. He walks towards your door, grabbing his jacket off the foot of the bed before he goes, and you just watch his movements with a stirring sensation in your gut.

“Seonghwa…” You trail off, nerves getting the better of you before you can finish the sentence. Seonghwa stops moving but doesn’t turn completely around to look at you. He must anticipate the question you intend to ask because you catch the way his shoulders draw up a little. “It was just a-a distraction, right?”

An airy laugh escapes the man’s chest.

“If that’s what you want it to be, then yes.”

The words don’t sit right with you though, and you push yourself up to look at Seonghwa more clearly. A frown paints your lips. You aren’t sure if it’s your frown or the movements that cause Seonghwa to take a few steps in your direction.

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” He places a hesitant hand on the foot of the bed, eyes on yours as he speaks in a quiet tone. “I’m not the type to get overly attached or anything like that. Sex is sex. It just happened to be what you needed at the time. Nothing has to come out of it.”

“Y-Yea… okay, you’re right.” Seonghwa’s smile is a bit tighter this time, and he leaves the room before you can stop him. As soon as the door slides shut behind his retreating form, you fall back to the mattress and clench a fist around your shirt. That feeling from before is lingering in your chest again. It’s almost tangible, like you could reach into your torso and pull it out if you tried hard enough. You almost want to attempt to do so, but you do nothing except lie there with a hand clenching around fabric for what feels like hours.

You can’t quite pinpoint the emotion. It’s sharp and pinching, but also dull and throbbing. Hot and cold. Both sides of a coin. And yet, that can’t be possible. Something that feels good in the moment, but is terrible in the long run? Or could it be the other way around? You don’t know whether the sensation is a good one or a bad one. It certainly doesn’t make you happy, and that’s all you know.

Even after you close your eyes, you can’t seem to fall asleep. The room is dark and quiet, everything is at peace, but your mind isn’t. You grow tired of the waiting and wasting time after a while, so you roll to the other side of the bed. You pad through the darkness to hit the small switch near your bed, and yellow light illuminates the room in an instant. With a sharp tug, you pull one of your nightstand drawers open and close your fingers around the bundle of papers inside.

The parchment is still rough to the touch as you flatten it against your mattress. The ink remains clear and legible, no breaks in the black lines over it, and that signature hasn’t budged one bit. The only thing missing is one final signature.

The name of the person being pardoned.

In the name of His Royal Highness, the King of Eros, the man whose name appears on the bottom line of these papers is hereby pardoned of all crimes listed:

Piracy

Larceny

Arson

Nefarious Behavior

Aiding and Abetting Criminals

Murder

Treason

Betrayal of the Crown

On account of these crimes being pardoned, all sentences issued to the criminal are to be absolved. His name is to be wiped clean, his records will become a blank slate, and there will be no further punishments for the crimes that have been committed.

You still haven’t put a signature at the bottom of the pages, and you aren’t quite sure what’s holding you back at this point. Part of you thinks that you don’t have the right to put your friend’s name on the papers. Another part says that you aren’t worthy and haven’t earned enough forgiveness for what you did. The final part is just terrified of going through with it. It adds to a seemingly recurring issue in your life: you can’t get anything right. You fail at even the things you claim to want the most.

With a huff, you shove the papers back into your nightstand. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and attempt to stand up. It’s only when you put every ounce of pressure on your leg that you remember your damn injury. Pain shoots up your thigh, and you bend over with a small shout.

“F-Fucking hell…” you mutter as you lower yourself back to the bed. Seonghwa is busy with Hongjoong, no doubt, and you don’t want to risk Hongjoong’s ire by calling his treasured Lieutenant away again. Yunho would be a decent option since you should probably ask him to look at your leg anyway. Once you bring a hand to your wrist, you realize that your comms system is gone.

Still broken. Of course.

There’s no other way to contact the crew unless you attempt to scream at the top of your lungs in the hopes that someone might hear. You aren’t particularly interested in doing that though, so you hoist your leg back onto the bed and bring the sheets back over your body. Despite the fact that you were just under them not too long ago, the sensation of them against your skin is cold. Not only void of body heat, but all warmth in general.

You find yourself missing Seonghwa’s comforting and warm presence in that moment. You refuse to let that linger for long, and squeeze your eyes shut in efforts to get some sleep. But the moment Seonghwa leaves your mind, San enters it.

San, tied to a chair, crying and begging for you not to be hurt.

Your eyes have never flown open so fast in your life. The image remains at the forefront of your mind nonetheless. You curl further into yourself as it persists. Maybe if you could just see San again and know that he’s okay – yet you did before boarding the train. It didn’t help. You saw him alive, breathing, on his feet, and it still didn’t reassure you in the slightest. Because you still don’t know if he’s okay.

If he isn’t, then you need to —

You halt that thought process before it can go any further. It’s already dangerous enough as it is. For once, you want to return to your dreamscape if only to escape the nightmare that you know waits for you on the other side of consciousness. When you next close your eyes, darkness is the only thing that greets you. You don’t have time to count your blessings before sleep hits, and you fall into a pleasant rest.

…

Eight days.

That is how long it’s been since you returned to The Horizon, and in the span of those eight days, you can’t say that you’ve done much at all. San is still out of commission. You haven’t even seen him in passing; he’s been locked up in his room the entire time, and Yunho goes to his room to treat his wounds but never asks anyone to come with. You haven’t had much of an opportunity to go see him either.

The first six days were mostly spent in bed, thanks to Yunho’s demands. Seonghwa would come by often to get you up and moving, though you never strayed far from your room. The furthest you have gone is the dining hall to get food where you eat with Jongho and Seonghwa. Sometimes Wooyoung joins the three of you, but only if Yeosang isn’t around. Occasionally, Yunho takes Wooyoung’s place when Yeosang isn’t busy doing whatever the fuck he does. If you weren’t feeling up to moving around that much, Seonghwa or Yunho would just bring you some food, keeping you company all the while. Your life has been void of Hongjoong and Mingi during the past week, however, and frankly, it doesn’t bother you all too much.

After three days, Yunho started having you come to the medbay rather than going to you. Seonghwa helped sometimes, even Wooyoung made appearances in the medbay, but never any sign of San.

Day six saw Yunho trying to get you to walk around on your own some. You were able to with a bit of pain, but nothing tore or reopened, which was apparently a good sign. All minor cuts have healed up without scarring, so it’s only the deeper one that’s left. Yunho did tell you that it would take around ten days for you to fully heal, and thus that’s why you find yourself in the medbay on the morning of the eighth day.

Yunho stands across the room, waiting for you to walk in his direction. His hair has changed colors yet again – now a soft peachy color – and you wonder how much time he has on his hands if he’s able to dye his hair so often. Wooyoung is present as well, but he stands off to the side and organizes some supplies rather than watching you walk over to Yunho.

He was unexpectedly happy to see you when he first found out you were back, relief on his sharp features, and you vaguely recall him telling you that you did a good job while wrapping you up in a hug.

A good job.

They keep telling you that you did well, so why does it feel like you did anything but well?

“You’re not limping anymore!” Yunho exclaims as you move towards him.

“Yea, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Hm, that may be the case, but you have to actually do your physical therapy this time. Including the therapy for your arm.” Yunho’s pointed stare levels you with ease, and you purse your lips as he sends the disappointed look your way. “I’m a doctor, Y/N, which means that it’s my job to heal you and get you back on your feet. After that, it’s on you to make sure you stayed healed. And regain your strength. And take care of yourself.”

The pointed glare lingers a bit longer. You turn away and try your best to feign ignorance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yunho shake his head ever so slightly before he redirects his attention to Wooyoung.

“Could you give us a minute to chat, Woo?”

Wooyoung glances up from his work, eyes darting between you and Yunho, then he nods a few times.

“Yea, yea. Sure. I can come back later to do inventory then?”

“That would be perfect. Thank you.” Yunho smiles at the shorter man as he closes the cabinets in front of him. The smile falls when Wooyoung leaves the room, and you try to avoid that damn stare by walking back to one of the beds. Yunho follows you, pulling a stool out to sit across from you. “We need to talk about what happened in the warehouse with Cara and San.”

“No, we don’t,” you refuse without a breath of hesitation.

“Y/N.”

You match Yunho’s stare now, eyes narrowing to an intense glare when he says your name.

“You either have to talk about it now with me or later with Hongjoong. And I guarantee that you don’t want to do it later because Hongjoong is a lot less kind and understanding.”

“No, I don’t have to talk about it now. Because I’m fine. Absolutely fine.”

Yunho releases a small sigh. His eyes fall shut as he turns away from you, then he inhales sharply.

“Listen, Y/N… Seonghwa – Seonghwa came to me because he’s worried about how what happened affected you. He’s really the only one who has had close contact with you over the past week and a half, so he’s the only one who has seen the impact o–”

“It didn’t affect me at all!” You interject. Embarrassment sears your neck and cheeks as you think about Seonghwa telling Yunho things about you. You can only hope that he didn’t mention the sex, because if he did, then you would like to crawl to the airlock and launch yourself into space. “I have been tortured in the past. It’s nothing new, and it’s nothing traumatic. I am fine, and I will continue to be fine.”

“Your reaction to the trauma is normal and expected, Y/N,” Yunho continues, ignoring your insistence about being fine. “It’s okay to be affected by what happened, especially something so traumatic.”

Yunho’s words remind you of being stuck in that chair. Your wrists and ankles itch as you think about the ropes that were around them, keeping you stuck in place. The cold touch of a knife on your skin, then your ears ring with San’s screams over and over until you swallow the lump in your throat and speak up again.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re avoiding the problem, Y/N.”

“I don–”

“Have you even gone to see San yet?”

“No, of course I haven’t. He hasn’t left his room.”

“Every single other member of the crew has seen him. Even Yeosang went to see him.” Yunho brings his gaze back to you as he says the words. You chew on the inside of your cheek.

“He hasn’t asked to see me.”

“Why does he have to ask? You’re avoiding him. For what reason, Y/N?”

“D-Drop it, Yunho. Please just… I don’t want to talk about it.” you barely register the sudden ache in your chest as tears prick the corners of your eyes. Yunho pulls his stool forward, and the sound that echoes startles you, causing you to flinch away from him a little. The screech of metal against the floor sounds too much like San’s cries of pain. You can’t get it out of your head.

“I’m going to be a bit blunt with you, Y/N. I will list off several things, and after I’m done, I want you to tell me how many sound familiar to what you’re going through right now. Okay?” Yunho pauses, and it takes you a few moments to realize that he’s waiting for a response from you.

“Okay…” You don’t particularly want Yunho to do this, but you can’t find a way out other than do what he wants. He nods and scoots back to grab a tablet. You pick at the skin under one of your nails while watching him tap away at the surface, unable to push your anxiety down.

“Being easily startled or frightened, always being on guard for danger, self-destructive behavior, trouble sleeping, trouble concentrating, irritability, angry outbursts or aggressive behavior, and overwhelming guilt or shame.”

Yunho glances up at you, but you refuse to respond. He blinks at you for what feels like hours, waiting for some reply that you never provide.

“These are all things I have recognized in you through personally interacting with you and through reports from the other crew members. Things that we’ve seen since you joined the crew. Now, onto more recent occurrences since the events in Echidna. Trying to avoid thinking or talking about the traumatic event, and avoiding places, activities or people that remind you of the traumatic event. This is how you are behaving currently with the issue of what happened in the warehouse. Not only that, this is how you behave whenever you are confronted with your past. The only discrepancy is that when our paths crossed, we were near Eros, the location of where said traumatic event occurred. Correct?”

“C-Correct,” you mutter, tugging at your nail with more haste.

“Another set of things I would like to share. If they sound familiar, please tell me. Recurrent and unwanted distressing memories of the traumatic event, reliving the traumatic event as if it were happening again, upsetting dreams or nightmares about the traumatic event, and severe emotional distress or physical reactions to something that reminds you of the traumatic event. Please answer honestly, Y/N. I could’ve let Wooyoung stay here, I could’ve had Hongjoong come in, I could’ve asks Seonghwa to be here, but I didn’t. I am trying to give you as much privacy as possible; however, you need to answer the question. If we don’t talk about this now, there won’t be any progress.”

“All of them sound familiar,” you admit without looking Yunho in the eye. You fixate on his collar, watching the fabric ripple as he shifts. Your hands are trembling at an alarming rate. Even when you close your fists around the material of your pants, they continue to shake.

“Okay… thank you. I have one final set I want to run through with you. Negative thoughts about yourself, other people or the world, hopelessness about the future, memory problems – including not remembering important aspects of the traumatic event – difficult maintaining close relationships, difficultly experiencing positive emotions, and feeling emotionally numb. Any of these sound familiar to you?”

“Why do you care about my mental state?” you say instead of answering his question. A sigh – this time a bit more exasperated – leaves Yunho’s lips as he puts his tablet down.

“I asked San all the same questions, and I have asked them of all the crew in the past following particularly harsh missions and events. It’s part of being a doctor, and it’s part of taking care of the crew.”

“But I do my job best the way things are now.”

“Really?” Yunho lifts a brow, head tilting to the side. “Because from where I’m standing, all I see is a soldier fallen from grace whose actions haunt her over and over and over again. Without any progress moving forward, just doomed to go through the same traumas again and again. Out of what? A selfish desire to seem okay? An egotistical need to think it makes you better? To impress Hongjoong? You won’t impress him much if you’re dead.”

The harshness of Yunho’s words catches you a bit off-guard. Your jaw hangs open as you try to come up with some sort of defense, but you fail to produce anything.

“Would you like to talk about it now?” Yunho inquires. You can only manage a few nods in response, and Yunho passes a sympathetic smile your way. “I know what happened from San’s point of view, but I want to hear it from you as well.”

“There… there isn’t much to say. San and I were both caught, tied to chairs across from each other, and Cara used me to torture San. That’s all there is to it.”

“That isn’t the full truth though. How did you feel as the situation was going down?” you draw your lips together upon hearing the question.

“Guilty. Yea, guilty. There was nothing I could do to stop her, and I-I felt somewhat responsible for it. He had asked me about revenge the night before.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“Th-That it wasn’t worth it, and it wouldn’t fix anything.”

Yunho leans forward and rests a hand against your knee. You glance up to look him in the eye, gnawing on your lip.

“This isn’t your fault then, Y/N. You warned him. You told him it wouldn’t help. The blame fell on his shoulder after that because he was the one who made the decision. Not you. You can’t blame yourself for something that you didn’t directly cause.”

“I-I… I don’t think he was going for revenge though. Something didn’t seem right about it. Maybe he wanted us to think it was revenge and that it just went wrong, but h-he didn’t – he didn’t want to kill Cara. He did it because he had to, because I left him no other choice.”

“You need to talk to San about this, Y/N. You can’t just keep avoiding him and hope that it clears things up because it won’t. You two are misunderstanding each other, and you’re unsure of being near one another because you’re worried something bad could happen again. You’re afraid of seeing one another in that position again, and you’re afraid of confronting each other now because you don’t know what to do. How do people move on from traumatic experiences? How do people recover from that kind of pain? How do you look at each other in the eye without thinking of it? That doesn’t come from avoidance. You can’t grow from that by avoiding him, so you need to confront him. Tell him your thoughts and feelings, tell him what you were afraid of then and what you’re afraid of now. Do you really want to never look San in the eye again?”

“N-No, of course not.” You hesitate. “I feel like I’m going to be here a while, so I want to at least try to…” You trail off, unsure of where that sudden resolve came from. Yunho waits for you to continue, a small smile playing at his lips, but you shake your head and refuse to finish the thought. “I don’t want that, no.”

“Then you need to take care of the hard parts now so that the future can be easier. Not that it’s going to be immediate or easy. But the first step is the hardest one, no?”

“How is he doing?” You divert the subject, not too keen on giving Yunho the pleasure of being right even though you both know that he is. Yunho sits up a bit straighter at your question and withdraws his hand from your knee to tap his chin.

“He’s healing well, almost all better. Maybe one or two more days and he’ll be good to go. He has asked about multiple times, you know. If you’re healing well, doing okay, looking after yourself, if we’re looking after you, things like that.” He pauses to glance at you again. “You should go over there now. He’s always awake at this time, but I’m keeping him bedridden for the time being.”

You nod slowly and push yourself up from the bed. Yunho catches your arm before you can leave, however, pulling you back to tell you one more thing.

“I’m giving you a list of arm and leg exercises you need to do for physical therapy. I’ll have it for you by the end of the day. You had better do it or else.”

“What happens if I don’t?” You ask, a laugh in your tone. “Is the big bad Yunho gonna come get me?”

“Yes, he will. So you better watch yourself.”

Your smile stretches a bit more when Yunho huffs, but when you leave the medbay, it crumbles. Whatever confidence you had leaves your body in an instant. It’s much harder to walk down the corridor now. You could just ignore Yunho’s wishes and avoid San’s door altogether, but your steps don’t stop at your room and continue until you reach San’s bedroom. And you aren’t sure what compels you to do so, because you still desire to avoid San at all costs. Yet here you are lingering outside his room fully prepared to go inside and talk to him. You chase that feeling and bring a fist up to knock at the metal wall before you.

Just before your knuckles make contact with the door, it slides open to reveal Hongjoong standing on the other side. You flinch away from the room as his eyes drag over you. You can’t see past his body to look at San, and he steps past you to let the door slide shut again.

“It’s good that you’re on your feet again,” Hongjoong says. His tone is even, not a hint of emotion lingering in it, and that makes your gut twinge with anxiety. You nod in response and move to knock at San’s door for real this time. Hongjoong catches you by the elbow though and pulls you back a little. He levels you with a cold stare. “San isn’t doing well.”

“I-I – but Yunho to-told me otherwise?” You stutter.

“I don’t mean physically, moreso mentally.” Hongjoong’s gaze flits away from your face and lands on San’s door for a moment. “I… I can’t g-get him out of his own head. Maybe you can try since this is related to you more than anyone else. If you can’t, then I’ll just keep trying until it works.” Hongjoong drops your arm and walks away before you get the chance to reply. You watch his retreating form for a couple of seconds, then turn back to San’s door. It’s harder to muster up the courage to knock this time because the expression you saw on Hongjoong’s face can only be described as defeat.

When you finally manage to knock a few times, San’s voice is quick to welcome you in, although it’s quite faint. You tap at the keypad with haste, and the door slides back open. Before stepping inside, you take a moment to glance around the room, finding that it looks like yours. There is a bit more decoration; three bookshelves that are lined with books and various trinkets you can’t quite see from the distance you’re at. When you turn your head, you spot San, propped up on his bed with his hands in his lap. He sits up a little straighter as soon as he catches sight of you.

“Y/N…”

You press your lips into a smile, but it feels awkward and out of place. It must look that way as well because San releases a small laugh.

“C-Can I come in?” You ask, motioning to the interior of the bedroom.

“Yes, yes, uh, please do. You can – you can sit on the bed if you’d like.”

You move forward upon getting his permission, coming to sit cross-legged on the foot of the bed. You stay as far away from him as you can get, and if he notices, then he chooses not to comment on it.

“Are your wounds healing well?” He asks after silence settles in.

“Yes, they’re all healed except for the deeper cut on my leg.”

Cara jams the knife into your thigh all of a sudden, ignoring her previous pattern of shallow cuts and burying a good quarter of the blade into your leg.

“That’s good. I’m glad, really glad.”

“Y/N! Y/N, look at me. Please just look at me,” San pleads, and you pull yourself up to look him in the eye. The nausea is making you a bit dizzy, and San’s face swirls into three different ones until the wave passes over you. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. I promise. It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

You force a smile onto your lips as the flashbacks hit you, trying to hide any signs of discomfort. When you next try to speak, you stammer a little. San surely notices, but again he doesn’t comment on it.

“Your side? I-I, how is y-your side?”

“You’re having too much fun with this, Sannie. Too vocal. I should fix that.” Cara huffs a laugh, glancing over the knife before deciding to plunge it into San’s side. The knife buries all the way to the hilt in the patch up flesh just above his right hip. If you thought your screams of pain were bad, San’s is beyond comprehension. The sound of his screaming triggers something in you, flips a switch, and you lose the last bits of control you had over your emotions.

“I’m practically good as new. Missed significant damage aside from the fact that… you know.” You press your lips together. Silence falls over you again, and Yunho’s urging words sit at the forefront of your mind.

“How do people move on from traumatic experiences? How do people recover from that kind of pain? How do you look at each other in the eye without thinking of it? That doesn’t come from avoidance. You can’t grow from that by avoiding him, so you need to confront him. Tell him your thoughts and feelings, tell him what you were afraid of then and what you’re afraid of now.”

“I th–”

“I wa–”

You and San start talking at the same time, and strangely it helps alleviate some of the tension you’re feeling. You laugh to brush off the awkwardness of the situation, and San does the same, a small smile stretching his lips.

“Go ahead, go ahead,” San says, motioning for you to continue. Part of you wishes he had gone ahead himself, but maybe it’ll be easier to just get it off your chest and out there, so you don’t have to think about it any longer. You heave a deep breath, eyes falling shut as you start speaking.

“I’m fucking scared.”

“…scared?” San echoes. When you open your eyes again, San has his head tilted to the side and blinks back at you with widened eyes.

“I’m – I’m terrified of seeing you in the position again. I’m scared of n-not being able to help you or s-save you if it comes to that again. But… I’m more terrified of the person I became when you got hurt b-because I don’t – I don’t know who that person was, and that scares more than anything else.”

“I understand,” San whispers. “Why, uh, why are you so afraid of seeing me in that position again?”

“I felt helpless. Like I could do nothing to help you and that I-I would have to watch you die. Part of me stills feels like I owe you something, that I have a debt to repay. But when I was tied to that chair and watched you scream and cry and beg for Cara not to hurt me, I realized that I also wanted to make sure that you didn’t get hurt. Not because I felt… like I owed it to you but because I felt the need to protect you from harm and that – that makes me afraid too.”

“Why?”

“The last person I cared about, the last person I felt that way with – he died. He was my only family, the only family I had left at the time, the only family I cared about, and because of my actions and things I had done, he paid the price. I’m that t-the second I admit to caring about you, the same thing will happen again.” You can’t bear to look at San any longer and have to look away before your composure crumbles.

“Don’t care about me then.” San’s words send you reeling, and you don’t care about your composure as you whip your chin to look at him again.

“W-What? What do you mean?”

“I’m not worth it anyway so… you should just save yourself the trouble and not care about me.”

“San–”

“You probably feel disgusted even saying my name, don’t you?” San releases a laugh, but there’s no humor in its tone. He pulls a hand away from his lap to slam a fist against the mattress. A shout leaves his lips, then his hand moves to cover his face.

“Why are you so upset, San?”

“Because I don’t deserve the crew’s patience or their care for me. I don’t deserve Hongjoong’s grace and mercy and kindness. I don’t deserve for you to even look at me. I sure as hell don’t deserve every ounce of worry that Hongjoong pours out for me, and I don’t deserve your worry either. You shouldn’t be the one feeling guilty or scared. I should. I should be the only one that deserves that burden because that’s the least I deserve after all the things I’ve done.”

“Those things don’t define you as a person, San. You aren’t tha–”

“Are you deaf or just stupid?” You snap your lips shut. “Did you not hear all the things Cara said about me? Did that not get through your skull? I’m vile a-and disgusting and a fucking monster. It’s not just a matter – a matter of being a criminal or a pirate. I’m a fucking monster for killing all those people. And for what? What did I kill them for? Why did I torture them? For a captain’s approval? A captain I looked up to and saw as a father? A captain I was so blindly devoted to that I didn’t realize how cruel and heartless his actions were? The same man who beat me down and tortured me when I didn’t do as asked?”

San is trembling, his shoulders quake, and you can see the quick heaves of his chest. You reach out to touch his arm, offer some sort of support if possible, but he smacks your hand away before you can get close.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Why?” You ask, moving forward a bit on the bed. San refuses to respond and watches your careful movements. “Why, San?”

“B-Because I’m disgusting.”

You reach out again and grab hold of San’s hand. He tries to shake you off, but your touch is already lingering, and his attempts become weak and futile in less than a second.

“You s-shouldn’t touch me… I might – I’ll taint you.”

A dry laugh breaches your lips.

“And? Do you know my reputation? My body count? The things I’ve done that I’m not proud of?” Again, he neglects to respond. “Do you, San?”

“No.”

“Believe me, San. If you knew the things I’ve done, you wouldn’t want to even look at me, let alone touch me,” you whisper, a sad smile pulling at the corners of your lips. San’s gaze darts over to where your hand is closed around yours. “I know that you feel that way right now, and I understand what you’re feeling because I was there. That was me. But whoever you were in the past is not who you are now. It’s important, yes, it’s important to be able to look back on the person you were so that you know how to avoid it in the future. It’s important for you to recognize where you slipped up and messed up, but those things don’t define you. The San who found me in a dingy crate full of fabric spools was not a murderer or a monster. He was a man looking for redemption. And if that’s what that man wants, then he has it.”

San’s chest heaves at a faster rate. His head falls forward as tears fall, and soft sobs wrack his body. You pull closer to him, continuing to speak as he cries into his free hand.

“The San who carried me to the medbay in efforts to save me was not a monster. The San who rushed in to prove Yeosang wrong in my first mission was not a monster. The San who recovered my pardon papers and hid them from the others just so that he could give them back to me, who saved me from Cara in the alleyway, who opened his heart and cried as he recalled his past, who feared that me leaving in the night was permanent, who endured torture and begged for me not to be hurt – none were monsters. And the San who ended Cara’s life was not a monster either. He was a man who acted upon this–” You press your free hand against San’s chest “–because he has one. And he bled crimson, not black. You are not a monster, San. You are not vile, disgusting or revolting, and you will not taint me in any way. I can swear on my life that that is the truth and nothing but the truth. I’m not sure of many things in life, but I am absolutely certain about this.”

“I-I… I don’t d-deserve it,” San sobs. He holds your hand against his chest though, and you pull him against your body as he slumps further forward.

“Your mind doesn’t think that you deserve it, but you truly do.”

San doesn’t respond to that, but you don’t need him to. You hold him against you as he cries, wrapping an arm around his back and rubbing small circles against his shirt. The ache in your chest has returned. There’s no turning back from this. It feels as though you’ve crossed an unspoken line, one that there’s no going back from. You press your cheek to San’s hair, inhaling sharply.

“I’m scared because I can feel myself getting attached,” you whisper. “And I’m not ready for it.”

San is warm. His presence alone feels warm, and even more so with your arms wrapped around him. It’s a different kind of warmth than Seonghwa’s: Seonghwa reminds you of fire, scalding and consuming. San’s warmth feels more fragile and volatile, like if you take too much of it, then he’ll crumble and fall apart in your hands.

He doesn’t speak again until his sobs subside some and his breathing returns to normal.

“How… How am I supposed to change the way my brain works when this is all I’ve ever known?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter, shaking your head against his. “I suppose we’ll work through it together — all of us. Hongjoong will help. Seonghwa and Yunho surely. The others as well… I just don’t know how yet.”

“Does this mean that you’ll stay then? Permanently?”

“What do you mean?” You inquire, pulling back to look San in the eye for clarification.

“Before… you told me that you couldn’t leave yet. Has that changed now?”

A frown covers your lips. You hadn’t thought about that, yet the answer seems so clear in your mind that you can’t even think about the other options.

“Yes, I think it has.”

✧✧✧ a/n: here we are at the end of act two!! she was truly a ride but yall are in for a Small Break in act three but i can’t say anything more than that so my lips are sealed 🤐 anyway i hope you guys like this conclusions, let me know what you think as usual, and thank you for sticking around to read my mess of a story asodifjsdofi

taglist: @faeriewoobin​ @sugarrimajins​ @atinyinwonderland​ @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin​ @jeong-uwu​ @jeonartemis​ @anothershorthuman​ @xxbluestrifexx​ @yayhei​ @haotheheckk​ @noonawriter​ @mirror-juliet​

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[sugarylawliet]

bells (L lawliet x reader)

> warnings: ANGSTTT, major death note spoilers

> i know i altered the rain scene a bit and combined it with the monster speech but i thought it fit nicely okay let me live 😫

     It wasn’t easy, working as part of the kira case. You knew that better than anyone. You knew that when you begged L to let you join the task force, and by the sorrowful look in his eyes in response to your request, he knew it too. What he also knew, though, was that you wouldn’t give up. No matter how many times he warned you of the dangers, “Y/N your heart could stop any minute,” “Y/N you’d have to say goodbye to your normal life,” “Y/N this puts us both in danger and i can’t lose you,” he knew all too well you would never let up. You would just persist on begging and begging, because you’re just like him. Stubborn. That’s just the thing he loved about you, but also the part of himself perhaps he hated the most. And so, he let you join the task force.

Now almost a year into the investigation, the large band of japanese police and american FBI agents dwindled down to a dedicated few, those who were willing to put their lives on the line to find kira. That few was you, L, Light Yagami, Cheif Yagami, Matsuda, Aizawa, and of course Watari. Misa tagged along too, living in the task force headquarters with everyone else though you weren’t sure exactly why. Maybe L kept her around because he couldn’t let go of the idea that she was the second kira. Stubborn. Though you didn’t agree with his theory, it wasn’t so bad having another girl around HQ.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen Ryuzaki around?” Light asked, walking into the main room placing a hand on your shoulder as you sat eyes glued to the surveillance footage you were to go over.

“Hmm, no actually. Haven’t seen him anywhere. Why, what’s up?” You turned around to face Light, the short nail of your thumb trapped between your front teeth; a habit you picked up from L.

“I don’t know it’s just... weird,” Light removes his hand to rub the back of his neck, “Usually Ryuzaki is always here going over something for the kira case, honestly it’s like the man never sleeps!” He lets out a laugh, and you smile too. It was hard to resist Light’s charm, he just had that effect on people. So charismatic, he couldn’t possibly be kira. Could he? “I guess it’s just strange not to see him anywhere.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll look for him, I could use a break anyways.” You push yourself away from the desk, standing up from your chair to stretch with a groan before heading up the stairs- you had an idea of where he might be.

“Let me know when you find him, I’ve got some case stuff I want his opinion on.”

“Yes sir officer Yagami!” You did a soldier salute in his direction mockingly.

“Don’t call me that,” Light laughed with a wide smile and narrow eyes, a bright laugh that filled the echoey room. You smiled warmly. He wasn’t kira.

                                                     _____________

You push open the heavy metal door leading to the roof top of the tall building HQ was located at, your eyes meeting with a slouched figure drenched in rain water. You had a feeling he might be here.

“L!” You called, walking out into the heavy rainfall to collect him. What the hell was he doing out here? He paid no attention to your calls, only continuing to gaze outward at the buildings below.

“L! L, what are you doing out here? You’ll get sick, come on!” You approached him, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention.

“I hear the bells, Y/N,” L took in a deep breath, taking his time to inhale the scent of fresh rain water and cold crisp city air. His dark eyes were clouded with thought, though you couldn’t tell which thoughts.

“What are you talking about? C’mon, let’s get inside.”

“Y/N love, I fear we may be parting ways soon.”

“Huh?”

“I believe I may have bitten off more than I can chew, Y/N. I’ve encountered a monster. A monster who always tells lies. Lying monsters are a real nuisance, you know? They’re much more cunning than other monsters. They pose as humans even though they have no understanding of the human heart; they eat even though they've never experienced hunger; they study even though they have no interest in academics; they seek friendship even though they do not know how to love. I’ve encountered this monster and, well, I’m afraid I might be eaten by it. Because in truth,” He takes in another thoughtful breath, pushing his raven hair dripping with water away from his forehead, “I am that monster.”

Amongst the hard rain pattering against steel, the scattered cracks of thunder, the sound of your own heavy breaths, it all felt silent. So silent it hurt. You couldn’t breath, sure you felt yourself taking in breaths but it wasn’t enough. Your lungs felt cold and wet. It was like L stole your language capabilities, like he reduced you to a little kid who only used their vocal chords to cry. You wanted to cry. You wanted to say ‘L, what do you mean?’ but in your chest you knew what he meant. Because you heard the bells too.

“L,” You began,

“Lawliet.”

“Hm?”

“Lawliet,” He turned to face you, running his hands down your arms before taking your hands, enclosing your fingers in his, “That’s my real name. Lawliet.”

You blinked hard. Were you choking? Suffocating? “We’ll be alright,” You smiled, letting out a stiff breath, “You didn’t get the name ‘best detective in the world’ for nothing, right?”

L lightly moves a hand to the back of your head and places a soft kiss to your lips. You kiss back, tasting the remnants of buttercream and black coffee on his chapped lips. You rake his dark hair through your fingers before he pulls away all too soon.

“Mhm. Let’s go inside love, you’ll get sick.” He hummed.

                                                    _____________

Your eyes flutter open, hand instinctively floating to the space next to you expecting to find L, but all you felt was the smooth linen of hotel bed sheets fuzzy with loose balls of thread and cotton. You groan, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you turn on your phone. Almost 9 AM? That’s late. Why wouldn’t L wake you?

You make your way down the stairs into the main HQ room, where the whole crew was gathered around a table studying the black notebook they collected from the yatsuba case. L, though, sat at his same chair, staring intensely at seemingly nothing, biting on his thumb nail.

“Ryuzaki, what’s the meaning of all this?” Matsuda asks raising his voice, “You’ve somehow gotten approval from another country to use the notebook for an execution?!”

“Watari, excellent work, thank you.” L ignores him completely. “First things first, please make arrangements to transport the notebook immediately.”

“Ryuzaki-” Light this time, “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m gonna try out the notebook for you.”

The task force all let out an audible gasp, including you.

“Ah, Y/N, you’re awake. I let you sleep in, I hope you don’t mind. You needed rest.” 

“Wh- Ryuzaki, are you crazy? We know the notebook’s power is real, we’ve seen it before, how else do you think kira operates?!” You dismissed.

“And besides, who’s gonna write the name? If someone starts writing in the notebook, they’ll have to obey the 13 day rule and keep writing names forever!” Matsuda adds.

“It’s already been worked out, the person who will be writing names is a criminal scheduled to be executed in just over 13 days. If he’s still alive 13 days after writing the name, he’ll be pardoned from execution.”

You move closer to L, sitting in your usual seat next to him and take his hand, “But still...to sacrifice a life?-”

“We’re very close!” L yells, raising his fingers to rest at his temples, dropping his hand from yours. You look down at your feet. “If we work this out, the entire case will be solved.”

The flash of red from the monitors before you pulls your attention back up, the room illuminating a cherry hue like the toppings from L’s cake. An alarm begins to blare in your ear, sending your heart rate up as you jump from your chair. Matsuda holds on to your shoulder, concern painted all over his face. Jeez, he looks more scared than you. That’s Matsuda for you. 

“What’s going on?! A blackout?!”

L sat calmly at his chair like nothing was wrong. You knew he wasn’t calm. He wasn’t chewing on his thumb. He was staring up at the red flashing monitor with a furrowed brow, his eyes full of deniel. Worry. L Lawliet, worrying. Who would have guessed. 

The red hue of the computer screens flashed white all at once, one sentence displayed in black letters: All Data Deletion. 

“Watari!” L cried. You had never seen him like this.

“Data deletion? What the hell is going on?!” Chief Yagami yelled impatiently. 

“I told Watari that he should erase all information in the event that something were to happen to him.”

“If something were to happen... you don’t think?...”

“Where is the shinigami?!” L yelled.

You all frantically searched around the room, mumbles of “Where’d it go?” and “I don’t see it” filled the air. Tears brimmed your eyes as you scanned every corner of the room. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening.

“Everyone,” L called, “The shinigami-” He cut himself off, inhaling a quick sharp breath with wide eyes. He was still. No, no, no, no, no please this wasn’t happening. His metal spoon dropped to the floor with a loud clatter before he himself fell onto the cold tiling. 

“Ryuzaki!” Light dove for him, cradling him in his arms as he lay silently struggling for air. You rushed over as well, sitting on the other side of him. You grasped his hand and brought it to your heart. “L, L, Lawliet, you’re fine, it’s okay stop it! This isn’t funny, STOP!” You yelled at him through voice cracks, struggling to swallow back sobs. He only stared back with wide eyes. Could he even see you? You brushed his thick ebony hair behind his ears and leaned in close. You could feel his shallow breathing on your nose. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re alright, right? We’re gonna be alright?” You begged of him. Did you expect him to respond?

Slowly, almost with hesitance to admit defeat, his eyes fluttered closed. No, god this wasn’t real. You were dreaming. “L! L stop it! Wake up, please just wake up. You can’t leave me here just wake up please!” You sobbed into his chest. It wasn’t moving. All the nights you fell asleep to the rhythm of his chest moving up and down with his breaths and his heartbeat following along- it was all gone. this was nothing like that. He was gone. And so you cried harder. Your throat hurt- sore from the sobbing and screaming. It was all you could do. 

“Y/N...” Aizawa placed his hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, I’m sorry. it’s time to go.”

“Nuh-uh” You hummed through cries. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no. L would want it. But you weren’t letting him go. You weren’t giving up like that. Stubborn. 

Aizawa crouched next to you. “I know...” He whispered. “You have to let go.”

You shook your head, you pleaded, begged for him to not take him. You needed him. But Aizawa was stronger than you. He walked around you, picking up L bridal style and taking him out of the room.

“No, no, please, Aizawa please! I need him, please,” You reached for L’s limp hand, but it only lifelessly fell from your grasp as Aizawa walked away.

You helplessly begged for L back, still crying tirelessly on the cold floor. For Aizawa to just let you hold him; keep him. Please, he’s fine, just let me have him, I’ll take care of him, please, I just need him. But nobody listened. It hurt. You almost thought you were next to have a heart attack because it hurt. And no matter how long you laid there crying, shaking, you didn’t stop. It didn’t stop hurting. Because you were stubborn. Just like him.

[balillee]

if you don't know why you should still be wearing masks outside, because i've had my parents question me on this recently, here is an analogy for you:

pardon the sports. and also, i'm not entirely convinced that this is the most sensitive comparison to make but i'm not the best judge at whether or not i'm being insensitive about something, but i just wanted to say this because it's been nagging me and it's really fucking annoying.

so on april 15th, 1989 in sheffield in south yorkshire was an FA cup semi-final match between liverpool and nottingham forest at hillsborough football stadium.

shortly before kickoff in a poor attempt to ease overcrowding outside of the stadium surrounding the turnstiles, police match commander david duckenfield ordered gate C to be opened which lead to an influx of supporters in the pens, which only served to move the overcrowding from outside the stadium to inside the stadium.

with an estimate of 5000 liverpool fans trying to enter the stadium at once (liverpool had more supporters during the match, however nottingham supporters were allocated the larger space to avoid fans crossing at approach routes to prevent fighting and potential hooliganism which will come into play later), there began the crush. as fans were streaming into pens 3 and 4 through the tunnel, fans were pressed tightly together. the match was paused only five minutes in because the police, for apparently five minutes, were too god damn stupid to see that the people were far too crowded. when in the pens, people began to try to escape them by climbing and breaking fencing, and those who couldn't escape onto the pitch were in danger, many of them packed so tightly that they died of compressive asphyxia while standing. the ambulance service was overwhelmed, and fans were allowed to help the injured, some even attempting CPR, so that they wouldn't be preoccupied taking their anger out on the police - that i think is a double edged sword. the uninjured didn't need their permission to help the fans, and if they were supposedly denied the ability to help, then they would have been even more justified to attack the police. just saying.

either way, the initial crush ended with 94 deaths on the day and 766 injured, giving it the highest death toll in british sporting history. by 2022, the number of deaths related to the incident has now racked up to 97. one man died a few days after the disaster, another died of complications related to sustained injuries in 1993, and in 2021 a coroner ruled that andrew devine, who had suffered immense and irreversible brain damage due to the incident, was the 97th victim.

in the following days the south yorkshire police spun the lie that the disaster was caused by drunkenness and hooliganism so that the police would uphold their image. this narrative continued to be spun even into the nineties, past the taylor report which ruled that the main cause of the disaster was because of the failure of the SYP, however it did result eventually in health and safety changes being made to stadiums up and down the country to prevent something as disastrous from happening again.

in 1991 the coroner ruled all of the 95 deaths at the time accidental, which the families rejected and fought to have the case reopened however in 1997 it was ruled that there was no justification to reopen the inquiry. the inquiry was only reopened in 2012 by two criminal investigations by the police - operation resolve to look into the causes and the IPCC to examine the actions of the police in the aftermath. in better news, the coroner's inquests from 2014 to 2016 found that the supporters were all killed due to grossly negligent failures by police and ambulance services to fulfil duties of care, but also ruled in that the design of the stadium was also at fault and that the supporters were not to be blamed for the crush.

fun fact: did you know that you will never, ever find a copy of the sun newspaper in liverpool? their coverage of the disaster is why. their article, headlined 'the truth' (although they initially wanted to go for 'you scum') blamed the disaster on supporters and spun lies such as them pickpocketing victims, pissing on police and beating up constables giving CPR. the lie that was spun about them pissing on police may have actually stemmed from the fact that the dead bodies were having to expel literally everything in them because of them being consistently crushed. by 2017, the sun journalists were banned from entering liverpool FC and everton FC grounds because of their coverage.

so billy, what the fuck does this have to do with anything other than just being, like, the saddest ACAB anti-sun story ever told? <- my impression of you rn

covid doesn't kill everyone. if it did, i wouldn't be writing this shit and poor old bill would have died before she could graduate from college. it's very unlikely that it will kill a normal, healthy person.

there's the catch though, there is a chance that you, my dear reader, may not be a normal, healthy person. you may be immunocompromised, say perhaps you have asthma, cancer, cystic fibrosis, hiv or maybe you're just pregnant. your chance of dying from covid has suddenly become a lot higher, especially with the rises of other covid variants like delta and omicron.

not only that, if you don't die you're a lot more susceptible to other complications typically referred to as 'long covid'. this can range from milder but still intrusive symptoms such as, according to the nhs, fatigue, memory problems, heart palpitations, depression and anxiety, tinnitus and rashes all the way to shit like heart complications, kidney impairments, guillain-barre syndrome, strokes, and brain damage. not fucking fun.

and yet, in the UK, all restrictions for covid-19 have been lifted by the government to cover up the gross negligence and failure of the tory party. had boris johnson not lifted the restrictions his ass would still be on the line for partying while others at home could not attend mass funerals for their loved ones while media ran by conspiracy-mongering fucking gibbons misinformed half of the facebook population on the vaccine, the effectiveness of masks and even the legitimacy of the virus' existence. only recently did the london metropolitan police (aka the foreign secretary's fucking lapdogs) stop refusing to open up an investigation on the party and the prime minister. their reasoning as to why they wouldn't was because apparently they don't investigate things that happened over a year prior, which is a fucking lie, because the hillsborough disaster happened in 1989 and operation resolve began in 2012.

so imagine you're someone who has athsma, and for the last two years you've been told that covid 'isn't that bad because the only people that will die are usually dead because of comorbidities'. the last two years you've been hearing the rhetoric that it's all fine because you're more likely to die than 'normal' people. and then in an attempt to cover their own asses for their gross failure to protect the british public and the metaphorical way that they spat on the graves of the hundreds of thousands of people they let die due to their negligence, they lift restrictions and you don't have to wear your mask anymore.

well, isn't that just fucking great. you can literally have covid and just go about your day like it's just a little headache.

i'm not immunocompromised (or, if i am, i'm none the wiser) and i can't claim to know or understand the fear that has existed within the disabled community during this pandemic, but what i can do is respect your wishes and continue to wear my mask in public spaces. if i'm allowed outside, you are too because you are no different than i and it is truly unfair to throw your safety under the bus just so i can get rid of a little mask acne. at some point, your employers are expecting you back at work because we live in a dystopian hellscape and there's nothing that either of us can do about that. you still have to go about your day and i don't want to be the reason that you could have to take some sick leave that your boss would rather fire you for. and hey, look, it could just be a two-week little cough or cold for you if you catch it, being immunocompromised and catching covid isn't an immediate death sentence and i apologise if any of this post has frightened you, but i'd rather not chance that shit. over the course of 23 years, 3 additional victims died because of the hilsborough disaster. one a few days later in hospital, one in 1993, and one as recently as 2021. the inquiries by that point were long over, health and safety regulations in stadiums were changed and a good few people lost their jobs at the sun and yet still people are affected by the disaster to this day, not to mention the hundreds of others who may have sustained long term injuries. long after this pandemic is over we will still feel it's effects past the trauma we've all collectively experienced and i have no doubt in my mind that illnesses caused by people catching covid will kill people down the line.

this may not be the most 1-to-1 analogy or the most sensitive one, but i think it's relevant and i think the similarities are there. there's misinformation, disrespect of the dead, blaming of innocent victims to use as scapegoats, police and government negligence - i could probably go on.

all i'm saying is that we've seen this shit before. disabled people have been told to be grateful for the fact that they're the only ones who will die, but i don't feel grateful. members of my family are disabled. some of my closest friends are disabled and immunocompromised and i definitely would not feel grateful seeing them dead or otherwise impaired just so the right dishonorable cuntbag boris johnson doesn't have to resign and admit defeat in front of the nation he's repeatedly failed. he's a fucking clown, and i am wearing my fucking mask.

[malereader-inserts]

In Another Life

Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader x Aziraphale Summary: “Come on, we might have all the time in the world, but life is an undetermined thing.” Word Count: 1,122 Warning: Homophobia, death mentioned. A/n: So, like some, if not all requests have disappeared from my ask so rn y’all wanna request some game of thrones, good omens, criminal minds  shit - kinda avoiding twilight, tvd, and a bit of marvel stuff rn.

In the 6000 years that the two great entities have existed, there is one human that has always stuck in their minds. 

A foreign memory that just keeps them jittery, somewhat excited, somewhat anxious. The Tudor rich boy from a high-status family, a charming smile with a spark in his eyes. Not like most Tudor men, who were very disgusting in the way they acted with money and power, especially those who wanted their way with women. 

You were soft-spoken, admired Shakespeare’s plays. You were well educated, handsome - perhaps of all of England, women had flocked towards you. Though, you never accepted such nice gestures. You got to know the two beings, the pair of them actually cannot remember how you met or how you came to be one of their greatest companions.

“You’re not so bad, (Y/n),” Aziraphale commented as you scoffed, “I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

“I think you’re not bad enough,” Crowley placed his input dryly.

“Well, thank you,” You responded.

You knew their big secret, there was no one else for you to be telling their secret, so they were comfortable in confiding in you. Often getting juicy gossip from Hell or Heaven, which always brighten your day when you’re down.

“I have a death sentence over my head,” You hummed, getting dinner sorted for yourself, knowing that the angel and demon do not eat unless it was for fun.

“Pardon?” Aziraphale exclaimed as you chuckled and shrugged.

“I saw it coming, really, still saddening, I must admit,” You explained to the two of them, “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?” Aziraphale questioned as Crowley was silent at the matter.

“Queen Elizabeth has reinstated all sodomy laws? In which, her father’s law of all male-male sexual activity is punishable by death,” You shrugged your shoulders, “I come from a high-status family, I get looked upon more often, can’t be setting that type of examples for my family.”

“They won’t protect you?” Crowley asked, baffled as you let your shoulders fall in defeat.

Smiling weakly, you explained yourself softly, “Father doesn’t want to accept me as his son anymore since I’ve been caught. Mother is begging him alongside my sisters but he’s pretty set. I have a trial tomorrow, but I can imagine it won’t favour me.”

“What?” Crowley exclaimed, “I mean we can’t do anything-”

“Not even a little miracle?” Aziraphale asked Crowley, his fingers gesturing a small gap in between, desperate to save you. You could hear the little plead from the Angel’s tone. 

“I don’t expect to be saved,” You pulled out a bottle of wine, “I want to spend my last days with my friends.”

“And that we shall,” Crowley pulls the bottle from your hand to start pouring everyone a glass.

“And one last thing, before I do die,” Your voice was somewhat gentle and nervous, “I would like to thank you for all the great memories you’ve given me. You have been the only two men that I would say I have most definitely fallen in love with you and who knows? I’ll find you in the next life?”

And so they hoped, they hope to come across you again. They had imagined what you’d look like in different attires. Crowley believes you’ll look good in the seventies wear and Aziraphale would have loved to see you Victorian Era clothing. But, there was no sign of you, and often times the two had ever wondered if you were just living at those times but was just missing them by a hair.

But, it was the modern times now, a few months from the whole situation with Lucifer’s son had passed over. And you were just a distant memory.

“I’m sorry; I can’t help but feel...but, do I know you two?”

Aziraphale and Crowley stop their conversation, Crowley immediately rolling his snake eyes behind his sunglasses as the two looked over to the intruder. Upon inspection, the two was stunned. There, before them, was some sort of sick joke and yet a miracle made by God, herself. 

“Maybe, I’ve got it wrong, but I feel like I must have known you in some sort of past life?”

You wore an oversized jumper with your rolled-up cuffed jeans, luckily it was warm enough to venture out London with no jacket or umbrella. There were a few rings on your fingers, glasses upon the bridge of your nose and a beanie. You looked soft and just as handsome as ever. You tilted your head, wearing that charming smile and the sparkle in your eye.

“Maybe?” Aziraphale was the one to snap out of it first, holding his hand out to you, “Aziraphale, and this is Crowley,” The Demon nodded, “Nice to meet you-?”

“Oh!” You shake the angel’s hand, “(Y/n).”

The two had to pretend not to freak out that you were most definitely that person back in Elizabethan Era. In your hands you held some of Shakespeare books, ones that Aziraphale had collected, in fact, he stole them from your house after it had been confirmed of your death. You were to make sure you had signed them in the first page in the top rightmost corner, Aziraphale made sure it was signed by William himself.

Hoping that one day, you would come across Aziraphale and remember the times with him and Crowley. He wanted to surprise you, that is if he were to ever see you again. 

“Huh, your names sound very familiar to me, and that’s saying something since Aziraphale and Crowley are pretty rare names to come about.”

“Why don’t we head out for lunch?” Crowley suggested as Aziraphale nodded ecstatically.

“Leave the books here, we can check them out later, but we must talk to see if we actually know each other,” Aziraphale placing the books out of your hands and onto the desk, you looking mildly lost at their sudden change of behaviour.

From exasperated as you interrupted them to almost joyful and in a hurry to know you. But, the two great entities wanted you to remember them so soon because they lost an opportunity of love and romance the first time, it had ruined them to bits. Often imagining what could have been. 

“Uh, okay?” You tilted your head at the two, who looked at each other, “Why are we in such a hurry.”

“Just excited,” Crowley hummed, “That’s all (Y/n).”

Arizaphale clapped his hands, “Come on, we might have all the time in the world, but life is an undetermined thing, wouldn’t want to waste it.”

You smiled as Crowley and Aziraphale grab you by the hand, you chuckled as you responded to Aziraphale’s statement.

“Yeah, but there’s always another life.”

[vancampemily]

Emily VanCamp teases the mystery of Sharon Carter on The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Warning: Spoilers from The Falcon and the Winter Soldier season 1, episode 3 are discussed in this article.

There's more to Sharon Carter than meets the eye. A lot more.

Emily VanCamp returned to her Captain America movie role in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier's third episode, which revealed the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent has been living under the radar in Madripoor after she was forced to go on the run from the U.S. government in Civil War for illegally aiding Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie), and Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan).

She's since made a life for herself in this neon-soaked city filled with all manner of criminals, which formed her new outlook. As VanCamp tells EW, she's no longer the "young and idealistic" agent who "committed her whole life to the cause and the government." She now believes "the whole superhero thing is a joke." But that may not be all she believes.

After first saving Sam, Bucky, and Helmut Zemo (Daniel Brühl) from getting their heads blown off and then later assisting in their search for Dr. Nagel, who's been secretly replicating the super-soldier serum, Sharon gets picked up in a car — a fairly nice-looking one at that. She tells her bodyguard, "We've got a big problem," seemingly referring to Zemo shooting and killing Dr. Nagel. Is Sharon secretly working for the elusive Power Broker, the mysterious antagonist fueling the Flag-Smashers' mission? Is she the Power Broker?

"We could interpret that in so many different ways," VanCamp says. "There's still three episodes left so hopefully those questions will be answered. There's still lots of characters to come in and out. The problem could be many things."

VanCamp spoke with EW after the premiere of episode 3 to talk about Sharon's new life in Madripoor, crafting her character's unique combat style with the stunt choreographers, and Brühl's unique dance moves.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: This feels like a very different version of Sharon Carter. Did this feel like it was a completely different character for you in some ways? EMILY VANCAMP: In some ways, yeah it is, but I think that was necessary. To bring her back as the same person she was in the films wouldn't make any sense. When they told me what they had in mind for Sharon, I was delighted that it was something very different and we were actually going to address where she's been, what she's been up to, how she's been surviving, and just answer some of those questions. We don't answer all of them but some of them, for sure.

Was there anything specific that helped orient you around who Sharon is now? She says it best in episode 3 that the superhero thing is a joke. That would never be something that Sharon would say when she was young and idealistic and this agent [who] committed her whole life to the cause and the government. She's from this bloodline of agents, so for her to say that is very indicative of where she's at mentally. She's still out there kicking butt and doing her thing. It's just her whole perspective and priorities have shifted because they've had to. She's been on the run and trying to survive in this lawless land for this crazy amount of time. It's understandable the resentment, anger, and frustration that she has when you meet up with her in Madripoor.

Did the changes to Sharon's character affect your approach to her? Absolutely. I think it changed everything from the way she walks to the way she fights to the way she communicates. She's all grown up and has a chip on her shoulder. She takes all that quite seriously, everything that happened to her. at this point in time, it's about getting that pardon that she's been wanting this whole time. It was great to talk to [director] Kari [Skogland] a lot of about that and just try to implement that in everything that we did.

It really seems like the government did her dirty. They did her dirty. It's true. I wouldn't have said it, but since you did. Yeah, the government left her behind. She's such a loyal agent. Even though she's thriving in this environment, it's still not where she would want to be, and not how you treat a loyal agent. She's become anti-establishment in that sense and stopped believing in all of the things she put her faith in.

When I think of Sharon Carter, I can't help but think of Peggy and all the morals and ethics she instilled in Sharon. Where Sharon is at this point, has she left a lot of that behind? I think it doesn't just go away, but I think she's cynical and jaded enough that a lot of that has been very repressed within her. I think she's left a lot of that behind. She's probably had to make some very difficult decisions and do some things she didn't want to do. You see her in that ship yard! There's no holding back. Unfortunately, the sad thing in Sharon's story is that idealistic young girl in many ways is gone.

At the end of episode 3, Sharon gets in a car. She's telling her bodyguard, "We've got a bigger problem." What are we to make of this? I don't want to say what, but obviously there are so many things. We could interpret that in so many different ways. There's still three episodes left so hopefully those questions will be answered. There's still lots of characters to come in and out. The problem could be many things.

Here's something you can hopefully talk about: Your big fight sequence. You mentioned earlier that this was your first time getting to develop Sharon's unique combat style with choreographers. Now that we know a lot more about Sharon, are there specific elements from her backstory that was most informative in the way that she fights? It was a very big discussion. What does Sharon's fight style look like in this world of Madripoor? Because we had to be sure to remind everyone that she has this technical background. She was a trained agent. In the comic books, that's her specialty. We struggled a little bit for a while with what weapons she's using. That shipyard scene was very unique. Does she come armed? What is that? We ultimately landed on she's using whatever she can find. That made it a little bit more brutal and gritty and interesting looking. It definitely made for some interesting fight sequences to learn. The training was very rigorous. She doesn't have any superpowers, so it really is down to the choreography. The stunt team is ridiculously amazing and helpful, and they spent all the time in the world with me. Every bit of free time I had I was there with them, and they were so gracious with their time. We just wanted to make it look as real and raw as possible, and the only way to do that was put the time in.

Well, I think you succeeded. Definitely did not come out totally unscathed. So, it was worth it. That makes me happy to hear. There were a lot of cuts and bruises and scrapes, but that's part of the fun.

I just spoke with Daniel earlier and he mentioned there's a longer version out there of him just fist-pumping in the club. What do you remember from that day on set? That day was insane. I think we had, for that whole dance sequence in that club, it was a very, very insanely quick, fast-paced day. But, oddly, they got a lot of great shots from my recollection of the boys dancing individually. Whoever has that footage should hold onto it closely. I remember there was a lot of dancing here. It was so funny and the boys are so hilarious. And Daniel's the best. I just love him.

source

[jokerfan99]

My Top 10 Favorite Anime Villains (Updated) by DarkChild316

In a different time and a different world, I did a list of “My 10 Favorite Anime Villains”. I am older now, and hopefully much wiser and now thanks to the global pandemic and my new subscriptions to Hulu and Funimation I’ve had the opportunity to go back and revisit so many classic anime that I feel like I should re-do it. Plus I’ve gone back and looked at my previous list and shook my head thinking to myself: “My God man, what in the f**k were you thinking with some of these choices!” So, I’ve gone back and redone the list, now this list is strictly for the men only. If you want to see a list dedicated to my favorite female villains, check out my list of “My Top 10 Favorite Anime Villainesses.” But for this list, here is my updated list of My Top 10 Favorite Anime Villains:

#10. Shishiho Makoto (Rurouni Kenshin): Growing up as a kid, Ruroni Kenshin was one of the first anime I had ever watched, and this guy was someone who I hated with a passion. Looking back at it years later, I realize now what an amazing villain and foil to Kenshin that Makoto was. Unlike a lot of villains on this list, Makoto wasn’t just evil for the sake of being evil, Makoto’s evil came from the worst type of trauma: betrayal! In this case the betrayal came from Makoto’s own government, where Makoto survived not only multiple gunshots, but being doused in oil and burned alive, leaving him in complete and utter agony. What puts Shishio on my list is what he manages to do after surviving death. He compiles an army of the best fighters Japan has to offer and plots to overthrow the entire Meiji Government. While in complete agony. Who else can claim that? Did I also mention he’s topping the list of the best fighters in the show? His swordsmanship is second only to Kenshin himself as he proves in their absolutely epic fight.

#9. Hisoka Morrow (Hunter x Hunter): Hunter x Hunter is a show with several great villains that truly stand out, and while Meruem was memorable, pardon me for believing that Hisoka was the standout villain from that show. A devious killer and master Nen user, Hisoka is driven by little more than his desire to find and kill strong opponents. Be they young children or master criminals, he’ll pursue them to the ends of the Earth with a bloodlust on par with that of a wild predator. Likewise, he doesn’t care what happens to himself or others in this pursuit. Mass civilian casualties, the loss of his own villainous allies or even the loss of his own limbs barely phases him, so long as he gets to fight with someone that tests his limits. As a result, he more often than not embodies chaos incarnate, wreaking havoc in his pursuit of battle and leaving a mountain of corpses behind him. Needless to say, this puts him at odds with the series’ protagonists at regular intervals. Not only do Gon and his friends fit the bill for what he seeks, but they often take on enemies that prove to be exactly what Hisoka is looking for. And yet, this also serves to make him all the more interesting. Where other villains might strike out at the protagonists and heroes immediately, Hisoka schemes, allies himself with and double-crosses people regularly, always finding the best angle to work in order to reach his goals. He may not be a world-ending anime villain on the level of a Meruem with seismic ambitions, but he’s undeniably the most interesting and brilliant villain in Hunter x Hunter to see at work.

#8. Izaya Orihara (Durarara!!): If you think of a list of top anime villains and this guy isn’t one of the first people who comes to mind, please raise your hands so I can have a few words with you in private with no cameras or eyewitnesses. The crazy thing about Izaya is that he doesn’t even realize he’s evil, and that’s what makes him great. He loves humanity; from the depths of his bones he loves us all. This is why he makes it onto my list; he does progressively more cruel acts against humans, putting people in situations that generally lead to their deaths. He is also a master of parkour and highly skilled with a switchblade in his hand (as evident in the above picture), which he generally only uses in dire situations or fights against Shizuo. In short, I absoulutely love this guy. I thoroughly enjoyed the way he manages to manipulate an entire populous, and that’s why he’s more than earned a spot on my list.

#7. Dio Brando (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure): You might have thought it was someone else, but it was me, Dio! All meme-worthy jokes aside, Dio Brando is unquestionably one of the most iconic anime villains of all time and, thanks to his series’ late-blooming popularity outside of Japan thanks largely to the 2012 anime adaptation, one that still feels modern in our minds. Dio is a tenacious bastard that takes advantage of the generosity of the Joestar family to further his own power, being intolerably dickish to Jonathan by constantly tearing him down, trying to make him look bad in front of his dad, spreading rumors to sully his reputation, and sabotaging his relationships. This escalates into killing his dog (his f***ikg dog of all things!), poisoning and later stabbing his adoptive father (I mean WTF!), and becoming a freakin vampire. Even after decapitation, Dio gets his revenge and sets in motion many of the events of the series, making a formal return in Stardust Crusaders as the main villain once again. With raw ambition taken to the extreme, iconic lines, poses, and outfits, incredible abilities from Aztec mask-induced vampirism and the time-stopping power of The World, Dio’s menacing presence towers over his series and over anime as a whole, which makes him MORE than deserving of a spot on my list.

#6. Light Yagami (Death Note): Yes, he’s a VILLAIN, get over yourselves Light Yagami fanboys! Anyway, there are a number of different adjectives and superlatives that could be used to described the lead character of Death Note: Diabolical, calculating, and determined to make the world in his own image all describe Light who was easily the most clever man in  Death Note, as evidenced by the layers upon layers that composed his elaborate plans.  Light started out as a good kid, doing well in school and heading to a bright career in police work like his father. But when he gets possession of the death note, he begins a remarkable descent into a disturbing mastermind who becomes judge, jury, and executioner for the entire world. But what truly makes Light's character stand out remains complicated throughout the story. His ultimate goal is to make the world a happier, safer place; a noble but perhaps misguided goal. His idealism and nobility still shine through when he doesn’t have the Death Note. When he temporarily relinquishes ownership of the death note to throw L off his trail, Light loses all memory of the death note and he reverts to his normal personality. His sense of morality returns and he shows more compassion for those around him. He even refuses to use Misa Amane to get information out of her when L asks him to. These qualities help to create a complex character who ends up being a detestable villain, yet you still kind of root for him to come out of this story as a winner. Light’s progression through the series is marked by his sheer brilliance. He's got a calculated and strategic mind that would make the great philosopher Machiavelli jealous, and the power of the death note adds a callousness that makes him free to use people in whatever way necessary to accomplish his goals. It’s highly entertaining to see his intricate plans play out. But Light’s messiah-like ego is just as big as his brain, and that arrogance ultimately leads to his tragic downfall.

#5. The Major (Hellsing): An evil Nazi Scientist, I know everyone is just rolling their eyes right now thinking I’m reaching for the low-hanging fruit for this one, but just hear me out here. While he may seem like an obvious pick for a list like this, The Major’s goals, however, are somehow far more unhinged than what may first appear. Despite being an impassioned orator and uncompromising strategist willing to sacrifice countless soldiers, the Major himself had no especial loyalty or passion for the cause of Millennium. His sole obsession is to plunge the world into an unending conflict to the point of endangering not only the lives of others but also his own. The Major’s leadership of Millennium, his decades espousing the genocidal ideology of fascists, and subsequent war against the Hellsing organization, the Vatican, and the entire world serve only as a pretext to satiate his insatiable bloodlust. The Major is one of anime’s most insidious villains, a charismatic, nihilistic sociopath driven purely by his sadomasochistic death wish.

#4. Shou Tucker (Fullmetal Alchemist): Now, you may be recalling that in my previous version of this list, I had Envy listed as my choice as my favorite villain from this show. Well after careful reconsideration, I’ve had to reevaluate my decision and give that spot to this creep, because while Envy’s actions were despicable to a point, they PALE in comparison to this guy! He only really appears in one episode if I remember correctly, yet in that one single episode, he made more of an impact then most villains make in a lifetime, which really says a lot about this guy’s character. What was it that made him so memorable you ask? Well, it could have something to do with the fact that this man transmutaed his own dog and daughter to create a talking chimera, which hadn’t been done before, and for what other reason…all in the name of recognition in the world of alchemy! That mere fact alone made this guy the most hated man in all of anime, the fact that he sacrificed his own family for the sake of fame, with absolutely no hint of remorse, made this guy the definition of an absolute living piece of shit and the only thing worse is how the episode ended, but I won’t spoil that one for you if you haven’t seen it.

#3. Gendo Ikari (Neon Genesis Evangelion) Up next is a man competing with the likes of Medusa Gorgon for the title of “Anime’s Worst Parent”, Gendo Ikari, please step up to the front of the congregation. Now Gendo is a man who’s list of atrocities throughout Evangelion is far too many to name, but I’m going to try my best to list them here: You have being actively complicit in the premature instigation of a biblical apocalypse, resulting in a near extinction-level event that caused the death of nearly two-thirds of the human population. Emotionally neglecting his own son Shinji estranging himself from him for over twelve years, only to offer him up as a sacrificial pawn in his bid to artificially bootstrap humanity’s ascent into evolutionary godhood so that he could be reunited with his dead wife. Cloning said wife’s DNA into a harem of emotionally dependent albino ingenues who share a dogged infatuation for their creator. And that’s not even mentioning the horrific emotional abuse and mental manipulation he inflicts on Dr. Ritsuko Akagi and her mother Naoko. All-in-all Gendo is proof positive that love not only has the capacity to overcome any obstacle, but sometimes it can truly make monsters out of us all.

#2. Griffith (Berserk): Griffith did nothing wrong; at least, not by his own drives and ambitions. A peasant who grew to become the leader of his own mercenary band, Griffith was a self-driven man who pursued his desires with unparalleled efficiency. No matter the situation or obstacle, he found a way to overcome them, whether that meant facing down an army of thousands or assassinating a country’s leaders. All the while, he amassed a legion of friends and followers who would follow him to hell and back, caring for him as much or more than he cared for them. As a result, they were dragged down with him when his ambitions saw him imprisoned, tortured and maimed. They cared little though, risking life and limb to save him and help him salvage a life with what he had left. That wasn’t enough for Griffith though. When given the option to become a demon and continue the pursuit of his dreams, he whole-heartedly accepted it; even though it came at the cost of sacrificing the lives of each and every one of his friends and allies. But that wasn’t the worst of it, to further spite the early desertion of Guts, Griffith proceeds to rape Casca, Guts’ love interest, in front of him as Guts is held down by demons. So yes, Griffith did nothing wrong by himself. By everyone else though, he did them the worst of injustices, and continues to do so with each breath he takes, all of which makes him a compelling and infuriating villain.

#1. Johan Liebert (Monster): I’ve covered a wide variety of monsters (pun fully intended) on this list, but THIS monster (again, pun FULLY intended) truly takes the cake when it comes to anime villains. A serial killer who would fit in well in any blockbuster film, Monster told the story of a man who had truly become monstrous; a charismatic, intelligent sociopath with no other goal than to kill everyone else in the world. Johan didn't just kill people, he made other people into monsters just like him. This skill of his corruption is first displayed in his youth, when he used stories to convince the other boys in his orphanage to kill all the staff, and each other. Johan is often compared to Light Yagami of Death Note, but the two couldn’t be any more different. Light's fatal (and genius) flaw is his own ego, which leads him to put his own life above all else, even his goal of changing the world. But Johan has never been afraid of death. Quite the opposite, he welcomes and embraces it, being more than willing to put his own life at risk, and one of his signature traits is how he challenges people to shoot him. Another of Jonah’s signature traits is his skills as a masterful manipulator. Where Light and other on this list had to resort to supernatural means to get what they wanted, Johan just used his own wits and knowledge of human nature. He's easily the most frightening villain on this list because he’s the truest to life villain on this list and he exposes the base human nature of his victims and of human society. Monster's remarkable story was almost entirely due to Johan alone, and it’s why he’s #1 on my list.

So that's my updated list, what did you guys think about it? Love it, hated it? Go on and tell me what you think and let me know who your favorite anime villains are. See you soon!!!

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/darkchild316

[romanceimp]

I just read your party HCs and omg the Chrollo one 😍 anyway I was wondering if you could maybe do a one shot elaborating on that? Or just anything with Chrollo tbh I love the way you write him!

Baby you’re so sweeeeeet! Ah made my day! I would gladly elaborate....

The Fox and The Rabbit : NSFW 

(duh its Chrollo)

WARNING: D/s dynamic, dirrrrrty talk, collars, public sexual acts

The party was elaborate to say the least... The crystal chandeliers illuminated the glass mansion where the party was being held.

 The marble floors sparkled. You had never seen somewhere more beautiful and you felt a bit out of place. You stood in the ball room with your boyfriend, in a f/c dress. The lace rabbit mask that covered your face was tied around your head with a black satin ribbon. Chrollo Lucifer, had his arm wrapped protectively around your waist. You looked up at him, laughing softly at his fox mask, “I’m sorry,” you said giggling, “it’s just that I wouldn’t have thought you would pick woodland creatures.” Chrollo’s eyes were hidden behind his mask but you watched his lips quirk up into a playful smile. “Oh? And what’s so funny about that?” he asked the grip on your waist tightening. “I-it’s just that, I figured you’d have chosen something a bit more ferocious than a fox...” He moved you in front of him as a caterer passed carrying a tray of champagne. Chrollo’s fingers dug into your hips and he breathed his words against your neck. “The fox is ferocious, to the rabbit,” he said and nipped softly at the skin of your neck. Your breath hitched in your throat. Why was he always teasing you like this? His fingers found their way to the leather band that was wrapped around your neck. “And you’re wearing your collar, such a good girl you are...” he kissed your cheek carefully, letting his lips linger. Your knees were weak, and you could feel your panties getting wet already. You wished he’d given you more time before introducing you to the very well known “art traders” and “personal assistants” and such. 

You knew virtually nothing about this party, except that it was an annual masquerade ball and that Chrollo was a... colleague, of the host. But you were discovering that this was a party for the most elite criminals, in the world. You sipped nervously at the champagne you had snagged off of a tray. You looked around to see all  of the faces gazing back. It was both dazzling and unsettling to be watched through the eye holes of different faces, devils, dogs, cats, spider web like designs, and birds. You brushed your hand over your collar wondering if it was so obvious to the others. A rabbit, collared by a fox. The thought itself had you squeezing your thighs together. You downed your glass of champagne and grabbed another from a glinting silver tray. 

“Pardon me, it’s just that you are so incredibly beautiful, it would have been wrong for me to not say anything.” You turned to see Chrollo eyeing you through his fox. “May I?” he asked as he reached for your hand.You nodded slowly, the lace rabbit ears bobbing. He took your hand and lead you to the dance floor. You swigged the rest of that champagne and placed the glass on the closest surface to you, before making it to the dance floor. He clasped your lace gloved hand in his. “Closer,” he said tugging you into him. He held onto you tight and slowly began to dance you around the room. “I feel like everyone is watching us,” you said noticing the wandering eyes of the different creature faces. “They probably are, you’re a beautiful dancer,” he said. As you danced around, the bubbles began to go to your head and you giggled softly in delight. Chrollo held you close against his chest and you placed your head against his breast pocket. You drew little circles on his tuxedo with your fingers. “Hey,” you said looking up at him. He glanced down at you, waiting for you to state your desire. But you didn't say anything, just bit your lip and trailed your wandering hand lower. “Be careful, are you sure you want to start this game, bunny?” You laughed deviously and then said with your most sincere tone, “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You couldn’t see him do it, but you were sure he raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that so?” You nodded assuredly then asked if you could take a break from dancing. Chrollo pulled out his pocket watch. It was 7:52pm, “dinner will be serves in 8 minutes but we can rest here.” He gestured to the chairs along the wall of the ball room. 

Chrollo was about to take his seat but before, he bowed to you and took your hand. “Thank you, for the dance,” he said and he pushed down the lace of your glove and planted a soft kiss to your wrist. He then sat in the chair and pulled you onto his lap. You straddled his legs with your own. “Move,” he commanded. “Move?” you asked softly worrying that even with the music someone might over hear your conversation. He situated you on his lap to where you could easily rub against his thigh. “Don't make me say it again,” he said and placed his hands on your hips. You began to slowly grind yourself against his thigh. “That’s my good girl, I want you nice and wet for me.” You let a soft sigh escape your lips before you could hold it back. “Please Chrollo, no more, you’re embarrassing me,” you begged. But he wasn't having it, he urged your hips to keep moving. You were positive that you had soaked your panties at this point and you were annoyed that he wasn’t playing fair. But you didn't expect him to, he never did... so you wouldn’t either. You pushed back against him so now with every movement of your hips, your ass would grind against his dick, which was getting harder with every movement you made. “I love what i can do to you,” you whispered to him. He was smiling, but it was the kind of smile that warned you were in trouble. You had pushed him too far. 

A tinkling of a small silver bell interrupted your game with Chrollo. Dinner was served. The guests filed out into the garden and sat at the appropriate tables with their name cards at each place setting. Chrollo moves to a seat where his current name is written, Samael. Your name card read, Lilith. He’s funny that Chrollo Lucifer and his little calling cards. You were surprised it had been so long and he hadn’t been figured out yet. 

Your seats were closer to the head of the table, which meant closer to the host. He pulled out your chair and you sat down, next to a woman who had on a badger’s mask. She nodded at you politely and you gave her a quick smile. The first course was brought out, a soup with a red broth and a single bone resting in the porcelain dish. You were about to ask Chrollo if it was safe to eat, seeing as it looked like watered down blood, when he whispered in your ear. “Give me your panties.” You looked at him, wide eyed, through your rabbit face. “Go on,” he encouraged, “I thought rabbit’s liked to fuck.” You looked back to the badger woman, who looked back at you... How were you going to manage this? “Do you read?” you heard someone ask Chrollo. You knew then you would be ignored if you didn’t do as he asked. You checked again and no one seemed to be paying much attention to you. You took a spoonful of soup and then somehow managed to pull your thong below your ass without anyone seeing. It was when you were pulling them down your thighs you were caught. The woman with the badger mask cleared her throat. You were glad your dress was long enough that she couldn't see your thong around your knees and you were lucky the table itself was large enough that she couldn't see your lap. But she was still wondering what you were fiddling with and why. “My garter slipped,” you said and then spooned more broth into your mouth. You would have to wait for the right moment... It came when the wine was being poured. and you were able to slip them off and hand them over without anymore mistakes. “They’re so wet... pathetic really, I’ve barely touched you,”he whispered against your cheek. Goosebumps broke out across your skin as his hand trailed up your thigh. “Samael, I’ve not met your rabbit before have I?” said the host. His mask was green, iridescent, reminiscent of a scarabs wings. “You haven’t, but she is very special to me and I thank you for letting me bring her,” Chrollo said his reply as one of his fingers slipped inside you. “Ah-And I thank you f-for allowing me to attend this wonderful p-party,” you said trying to cover your gasp. “You will have to pardon my sweet bunny girl, I’m afraid she is terribly shy...” His fingers curled inside you expertly.

 You reached for your wine glass and sipped with shaking hands. He added a second finger and the glass almost slipped from your hands.”Oh my!” you exclaimed trying your best to hold back your moan. “The wine is d-delicious,” you told the host. Trying again to best cover up your sounds of ecstasy. “My darling bunny, she’s trying her best to overcome her shyness,” Chrollo said, his fingers working faster against your walls. The waiters came to collect the first course dishes and you could feel yourself getting close. The waiter retrieved your dish, Chrollo’s finger pumping in and out of you going unnoticed. Anyone who saw would assume he was just comforting his shy girlfriend by caressing her leg. “Thank him for taking your dish,” he commanded. “Oh t-thank you!” you gasped. Although you were saying it more so to Chrollo than the waiter. Your breath hitched in your throat as a small crystal dish of sorbet was set in front of you, a pallet cleanser. You were so close, just on the edge of coming undone completely, at a dinner party, in front of all these people. “I think that Motzart’s Symphony no. 40 : Molto Allegro, is absolutely brilliant and symbolizes-” how was he having a conversation so in depth while simultaneously making you writhe around in your chair? You grabbed the sides of the chair, you couldn’t take it anymore, you were going to cum. As you tightened around his fingers that were furiously pressing into your G spot, you squealed in delight. Your orgasm washed over you like the ocean’s tide, and it pulled from your mouth words you wouldn’t be able to take back. “Holy shit, it’s so fucking good!” You said it louder than you had wanted to but you quickly picked up a spoon and shoved some sorbet into your mouth. “The sorbet! The sorbet, is so fucking good,” you added. Chrollo chuckled as he watched embarrassment take over your aura. “Look at yourself, playing the fool just so you can cum all over my fingers hmm?” he whispered to you and even though you had just cum, your thighs squeezed against his hand. “Why are you trying to close your legs? You know I’m no where near done with you yet...” You had only had soup, there were 3 more courses. How were you going to make it through dinner?