#upon the second viewing i was able to look at it more objectively and im gonna go into it with optimism

[snuggleupagus]

Ok, I'm ngl, I rewatched the Megamind sequel trailer with my fiance again tonight... and like... I'm actually more excited now...

[reel-fear]

Love as a construct rambling below bc Im thinking so fucking hard abt it rn

one of my favorite bits ever since I read the fic as a kid who has just played portal 2 in elementry [yes I've loved it for that long, I still remember looking up GLaDOS x Wheately on my first shitty little windows computer when I stumbled upon it haha and man did I love it] was the one where Rick shows up, both bc its hilarious and very fun but also because it's just... It's such a delight. Everything about it. I've got so many lines from this fic outright memorized bc of how often I read it. If all fics were suddenly wiped one day this is the fic I would desperately try to keep archived no matter what.

ANYWAYS THO THE RICK CHAPTERS, not only hilarious but a great dissection of Wheatley's character and his true love for GLaDOS. The way his character contrasts with Rick is soooo well explored and in mere words is put out so plainly and well in character. Having Rick go full out Alpha Male Podcaster in this chapter was a great way to show just how well intentioned Wheatley always is. Rick speaks of trying to bed GLaDOS and who Wheatley is a little idiot who will never Get anything out of his relationship with her leaves Wheately baffled and confused. Because he's not in this relationship to try and wrangle something out of GLaDOS, Rick is projecting and Wheatley can't even seem to understand how or why Rick would view GLaDOS almost like an object for him to own.

It baffles and terrifies him. How could someone ever view the amazing, complex, powerful and beautiful GLaDOS like that? The way he starts to view Rick for the weirdo hunter/predator he is also shows Wheatley's intelligence, which is ironic but regardless. He might be stupid but he knows GLaDOS deserves better than that and that the way Rick thinks of and talks about her is demeaning.

But specifically these lines in particular.

everything about it potrays Wheatley so in character, the way his thoughts are so scattered, he gets off topic so quickly in a way that only makes sense in his brain. Me and Roddy have talked at length about how in this fic GLaDOS and Wheatley easily potray neurodivergence and Wheatley in particular has a very frantic fast and panicked mind. He screams ADHD or Autism mixed with an anxiety disorder to me. The way he thinks, the way he tries to talk it reminds me a lot of myself. Even if generally I find GLaDOS the most relatable character here.

Hell Wheatley after this thinks of how strange it would sound to tell GLaDOS he was visualizing her as a butterfly. Her brain just doesn't work the same way his does.

Not to mention it shows one of the best things about Wheatley's inner conflict here, how does he protect someone he views as so much more powerful than he is? He can't just disregard the idea of protecting her. Even if it doesn't make sense logically. He wants to protect her more than anything in the world, she might not need that protecting, he might not be able to do it, but those facts don't matter to him. His love for GLaDOS overpowers everything.

When Rick implies GLaDOS made a mistake Wheatley tells him bluntly GLaDOS Doesn't make mistakes, even when she herself has admitted it to him that she's not perfect. Wheatley just thinks the world of her and while Rick passively demeans her Wheatley sings her praises.

When Rick shoves him his instinct is to shove back but his second thought, what would GLaDOS want? This is the thing that makes Wheatley not like Rick, even in this part where Wheatley can be read as somewhat protective and possessive, this thought in particular shuts down the idea Wheatley would ever let such things overide GLaDOS' desires. He wants to protect her and keep her close to him, that's his first thought but his second? What does She want? What would She do?

THIS, is what makes Wheatley different than Rick. Wheatley doesn't want to warn GLaDOS about Rick so she won't hang out with other men or so she won't fall in love with them. He doesn't want her to do those things of course, but most of all he wants her to be able to make an informed decision about what she is doing. If Rick and her did get together, he wanted there to be no deception, no tricks or manipulation. That's what he wants for GLaDOS that's how he protects her.

It's not about keeping her to himself, it's about knowing if he lets go... She'll still be okay and happy.

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Getting Over You by Lauv

Summary: Unexpected things happen all the time but meeting him was one of the best parts of it.

Pairings: Atsumu Miya x gn!reader

Word count: 7.1k

Tags, Genre: implied enemies to semi lovers! trope, slight angst, curse words, timeskip! Atsumu

A/N: pls i didn't intend to change it last minute but pls let me know if u liked it cuz im still having second thoughts <3

“No- I’m sorry.” Atsumu says as you felt your heart snap and break into two distant pieces. You already limited your expectations but there was a miniature amount of hope that you held onto and that was when you should’ve lost your grip.

“It’s fine, ‘Tsumu.”

It obviously wasn’t. No matter how loud the cries of your heart were, what mattered to you in this moment was to forget it ever happened- to run away and never face another failed trial of love. Atsumu can see past your smile and he hated the way it had to end in a way he avoided. There would be a time where his feelings would be up to confrontation but when it finally happened, he’d became a coward.

He was late to realize what the outcomes could lead to. How certain was he that your paths would meet again? How was he sure that he can revert this scenario in a better way that he wanted when you were losing your hold onto him?

“I have to go but it was nice knowing you, Miya.” Your lips were tugged in a weak smile while he questions why his body lacked the power to move but what resumes to play in his mind was the way his name escaped your lips like it was a curse to say it.

Turning your heel, there was an ache in Atsumu’s head. Was it regret? His decisions tied in knots? His emotions unable to declutter themselves? Hesitantly, he reaches for you. His hand wrapped around yours as you glanced down on his soft skin you used to despise to get near to.

His eyes told you stories that were hard to decipher all at once. His stories didn’t start with a setting, it started and ended with you, not a single page where you weren’t there but it seems like the chapters you had in your own story were being torn off to erase the traces of false hope.

“Y/N, I'm so sorry.” He whispers while you felt his hand tighten to make sure that you could stay- even if it lasted for a minute because he wasn’t sure fate could spare you two another moment.

But then, you softly removed his hold on you while the cold sweat runs down his forehead.

“It’s okay, ‘Tsumu. We were just never meant for each other.”

We could’ve been.

-

“Thank you for your time.” You bid the player as both bow each other as a way of manner. You gathered your bag as the athlete turns to you with a kind smile.

“I enjoyed the interview. I’m impressed at how prepared and professional you are. How long have you been doing this?” He asks, adjusting his outfit while you toss your bag on your shoulder with your camera slung around your neck.

“There was a journalism club back in my high school and I joined in ever since I was a first year.”

“You’re in college now?”

“Yes, sir.” He chuckles at your formality while he gives a pat to your shoulder.

“That’s good to hear. Goodluck with everything- I believe that you’ve got bright things ahead of you.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment while you bid your goodbyes. You step out of the hotel feeling the satisfaction hit you like a prize. The report can finally be simplified into a few more subtle fixes and maybe by 1am, you’d be able to present it to your professor without doubting your work.

Sighing happily, you decided to reward yourself to a lovely lunch with a view you often visited due to a reminiscent feeling that bubbles in your system. After ordering, you sat outside admiring the way the sun sets and leaves a lasting beauty before the moon shows.

The stress was fading from you. You had expected that the project would’ve taken weeks for you to finish knowing that some retired athletes usually avoid questions to why they left the sport they used to love. You had called a few, a struck of confidence was enough to make you do so but they often cancel your request because they either paid attention to your young age or because they weren’t ready to be asked such personal questions about them. You were lucky to score and interview with a well-known athlete whose had his fair share of the spotlight during his early 20’s. Sadly, his retirement was due to an accident and his weak body levels couldn’t bare the adrenaline of the sport. He was kind, patient, and understanding. Ever since he agreed, your attention was on the questions you’d lay upon him seeing that this was an opportunity you can’t waste. After gathering some of his past glories, you narrowed down your interrogation on what remains important to benefit the topic of your project. You were more than proud because of the compliment he had given you and the fact that you might be able to catch a break after a hectic week.

Opening your camera and flicking through the photos to decide on which you were going to use. Suddenly, a photo meets your sight. The peak of blonde and gray hair with a uniform that you missed.

The Inarizaki Volleyball Team.

Most especially, him.

A few years has passed since you’ve seen him and his brother. Osamu’s last interaction with you was filled with nothing but sweet memories and a hug that you could never forget the warmth of, while Atsumu’s last memory with you remained bittersweet- like a sour flavor in his tongue that never left. You tried too hard to forget fragments of your time with him but because of how much work you put yourself through, you lost time to reflect on the moments that didn’t hurt.

Half of your high school life was compressed into confusing parts of your story.

But the chapter that seems to be the most influential part of it, was where you got to meet the blonde who has stomped on your heart.

It was funny to be remembered as a person who had the guts to sneeze during the great Miya setters serve.

“Achoo!”

You immediately cover your face with your handkerchief as your sneeze echoed through the gym making Atsumu’s hand lose its power because he was stunned by the sound, the ball hitting the net instead as he almost hits Aran who was wide eyed that ball went his way. The team could hear Osamu’s ‘uh-oh’ and it was enough for them to know what the setter feels after the unfortunate event.

Atsumu grits his teeth as the other team cheers knowing they got the score while his head jolts to the crowd, aggressively searching for the one who messed up his serve. Even eyeing his fans who got scared by the way he turned his head in their direction.

Meanwhile, you’ve got glares surrounding you as your friend nudges you, letting out an exhale of disbelief that you’ve got death stares.

“We’ll get the next point ‘Tsumu, don’t worry.” Osamu says landing a hand to his brothers' shoulder while Atsumu readies himself for the serve of the opposite team.

“Whatever.”

After that certain match, Atsumu was more than determined to hunt down whoever caused the flunk of his serve. Silly as it is, he’s never heard someone dare to speak during his serve. He’d always let out a hand signal for them to be quiet- let it be known that if someone spoke, he’d be fine with it but a whole sneeze? He’d never let it go, especially when it resonated in his ears.

So, imagine the look on his face when he hears the exact same sound when he was just stopping by his locker.

“Fucking dust.” You said sniffling as you closed the door to your locker, and you were face to face with a wide-eyed Miya Atsumu holding out his finger and pointing it to you, as if he was accusing you of murder.

“It’s you!” He shouts making you raise your eyebrow at him, but the raise of his voice had intimidated you.

“What?” You asked him, not finding a single clue on whatever he was pertaining to.

“You messed up my serve by sneezing.” He says in the tone of ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ making you lick your lips, a hand to your hip as you looked at him.

“I’m not apologizing for something I can’t control.” You were completely baffled by this man. Sure, you were his classmate, but this was your first year and you barely cared to take notice of all of them, only focusing on your school group that had you busy.

“You could’ve held it for like 2 more seconds at least.” You blinked before letting out a tired exhale as you eye him up and down. The setter of the school's volleyball team, you were aware of that because of how many matches you’ve been dragged to, but he’s never come up to you before.

This was a whole other introduction.

“Miya, right?” You asked him as he steps forward, looking down on you with a sly smirk.

“I guess I’m sorry.”

Atsumu stays silent for a few seconds but returns to his angry pout as he continues to stare at you.

“What’s your name?” Atsumu asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Y/N.”

From thereon, it looked like your life’s plot had spiked up. Atsumu was- you could call it as a miscalculation. Someone so loud and had his ego constantly fed was not someone you would stick around due to your strict schedule of balancing schoolwork and papers from your club. It was like a bump in the road wherein the objects in your car would’ve been juggled around because of the impact- that's what it felt like. Thinking that two years would’ve passed by like a breeze, time slowed down with him. The constant bickering and arguments were embedded in you like a tattoo. The way his cackle would echo through your ears when he’d struck a nerve to you, the way he’d purposely call you nicknames you swore you hated, to the same jokes can be dragged on for hours, and how every fiber of your body promised you’d leave when you’ve had enough.

But promises were always broken.

You stuck around and he did too. Atsumu provided you with his trust and company whenever you needed it. It’s a pleasant experience but it surely wasn’t at its best. What comes with it were headaches and harsh words but having a person who knew you until graduation and stayed was a different reason. He was a familiar, a person who isn’t a call away when you needed it but being in their presence would give you a pinch of comfort.

Maybe the only thing you can thank Atsumu for is getting to know his twin brother.

You accidentally sent a text to Osamu about you panicking about a missing file to be passed the following day and Osamu was up and ready to help you locate it. After finding it, you decided to treat him for being a life saver and he of course, was having the time of his life for the free food- it was also his favorite restaurant at that moment. During this time, you’ve got to talk more about each other. Months pass now Osamu and you were way better friends than you and his brother.

You and Osamus’ bond were the type that was just so serene, hardly any type of judgement when you’d bring up a problem, and all secrets were kept tight.

Osamu was the shoulder you can lean on, while Atsumu’s would shove your head away when you do so.

Your friendship drifted away when Atsumu stabbed your heart with the words “No.” and “I’m sorry.” You hesitated that day, to dial Osamu’s phone the way you used to, but it never happened. Your sobs muffled your voice and if you called him, he’d never understand a word that you’d say.

The opposite is that Osamu would understand everything.

Because you and Atsumu mirrored the same amount of pain.

He’d never seen his brother so- ruined. Atsumu’s thin walls didn’t shield his shouts of sorrow while Osamu withstood every bit of the torture show his brother had. Checking him on the next day, the setter was fast asleep with bags under his eyes and a red nose, clutching onto his pillow so tightly.

Osamu knew that day that the damage has been done and not a single band aid would mend the two shattered hearts.

-

Atsumu strolls to the around looking for a restaurant along with his teammates. The sun has fully set making the streets of Japan light up with how busy and crowded they were. Bokuto and Hinata were busy pointing at stands that had their favorite slabs of meat while Sakusa trails behind them with a mask, wanting to be removed from the push of people. As the eyes of the blonde land on a certain stand with multiple notes stuck onto a board, he smiles fondly. He then sees two kids running with smiles on their lips as they held each other's hand, obviously excited to explore the night.

“Come on, don’t be a wuss.” Atsumu says as you rolled your eyes and thought hard about his hand that was held out in front of you. Atsumu grunts before taking your hand in his before you could even decide properly. You followed his lead as he walked you through the sea of people. You were nervous that he had left practice to accompany you. Observing you from afar, you looked devastated, but you continued the rest of the day with a smile like nothing happened. Seeing that you looked dull talking to Karou, he pulled you away from whatever void of sadness you surrounded yourself in.

“Atsumu shouldn’t you be at practice?” You asked sighing, still with his hand in yours as you stopped by a stand.

“I should be but whatever that Karou did is obviously hurting you, you idiot.” Your eyes widened at his statement and this reaction confirmed his suspicions as anger forms inside of him. What could that boy have done to get you this upset? Did he physically hurt you? Atsumu hated how he cared- it wasn’t his business to meddle with but the frown on your lips was something he wanted to remove from you.

“Thank you.” You muttered as he buys you the same thing he ordered. He sees how you weren’t as colorless as before. The lights of the night brought saturation to your features as his eyes adored every feature of yours.

“It’s nothing.”

“Atsumu-san?” Hinata asks, tapping the boy on the shoulder while the blonde awakens from his escape.

Atsumu looks around once more, seeing that there wasn’t a trace of you, he moves on.

Like he was supposed to do in the first place.

-

“For our new assignment, why don’t we take the vice versa of your last project. Retirement is inescapable but why not find the reason they’d got into the sport. What makes it so exhilarating and unforgettable? That will be our topic this week. I’m giving you a week for interviews, photos, and articles. Video format is more suited for this task. Is that clear?” You all nodded as you wrote down the list of possible athletes to meet, jotting down an outline of some key points to remember.

“A tip for you all: look for the younger generations. It doesn’t matter to me what status the athlete stands in right now, it could be a friend or even a child. What I’m looking for the depths of the details in your research.” The professor stands making all of you bid him goodbye as he walks out of the room. You gathered your notebooks, sighing that you won’t have the time to properly rest- an exam was near right at the submission of your new task. You realized that you needed to sort out the things you were required to do before everything would pile up and get tangled in the short amount of time.

Who should I interview? God, everyone is so busy at this season. You thought. It’s true- you realized that matches were always lined up by this month. You also had classes to attend to and your mind could collapse at any given moment. You were more than worried about organizing your time properly but the feeling that you’d have several sleepless nights haunts you. You wished he could have extended the submission- though it didn’t get any better since after exams you tended to be drained from studying all night.

Going back to your apartment, you decided to put sticky notes all over your wall to help you sort out your priorities. Tomorrow would be Saturday meaning that you’ve done all the works to be passed on Monday and that you had zero meetings or classes. Saturday and Sunday would be divided to work parts, by Monday you should be up and running to work again.

You couldn’t let go of this group. It had given you countless of opportunities- even an offering to be an editor at a well-known magazine agency. You were in queue for the letter, so you decided to continue with the tasks of the group. You were thankful that you got used to the craziness of it all. The ability to multitask, to put the phone down once in a while, managing your time, those were just one of the benefits of getting used to it. The things you hated was that you barely had time for yourself. To lounge and just do nothing never met with what you were doing. You envied how some people from your group would plan some hang outs during a busy week and you always questioned how they managed to do it all without panicking.

You yawned as you felt your stomach growl at the scent of the delicious street food. Seeing that you fell short on money because the amount that was in your wallet was enough for your way home, it meant you’d have to wait to eat dinner until you came home. Letting out a groan you decided to walk your way even if you get shoved. God, you were starving and exhausted. The emotions were starting to fill you the more you moved. It didn’t help that everyone was so loud. You could hear the sound of the cackles from the drunken men in the corner, the cries of the baby that brought irritation to your eardrums and even the off-key singing of a (possibly) drunk girl at karaoke. You just wanted to cover your ears and crawl back to your bed not caring if you’d only be able to get 2 or 3 hours of sleep.

As you walked, you felt a boiling pile of liquid drip to your stomach making you let out a yelp as your clothes were drenched in the coffee stain that you despised. The liquid got to your skin making you wince at just how it impacted on your skin. You felt your eyes water as the woman tried to pat away the drink but instead made it worse because you wanted the fabric to be away from you as possible- which was the opposite of what she was doing.

“Oh my god- I'm so sorry.” She kept saying while patting your abdomen while you tried to wave her off, but she kept going making the tears flow from your eyes as you chose to walk away, covering your face at how humiliated you were. You sobbed in your hands as you bumped into someone before removing them from your face to find a bench to sit on but seeing that people were already turning their heads to look at you, you’ve had enough already.

Finally finding your bus stop, you sat down burying your face in the palm of your hands sobbing as your mind replays how you’ve made a fool out of yourself for the last time. Everything was going terribly and you didn’t know how to control it without losing your cool. Sure, you’ve managed to escape the people but the feeling is still badly glued to you.

“Is everything okay?”

Someone asks but the voice became a blur to you because you were so focused on your sobs and the unstable breathing.

“Go away.” You whispered but there was a weight added to your left side as you kept your face hidden behind your hands.

“I shouldn’t have asked.” The man says looking down before standing up to leave the bench, making you intake in a sharp exhale, relieved he left.

“Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult? How am I gonna interview a volleyball player at this state?” You rambled on thinking that guy has exited your business and was free from companion.

“I mean- we’re not close- but I’m a volleyball player?”

You wiped your eyes as your heart started to run a mile now that you’ve familiarized yourself with his voice.

Lifting your head, there in front of you was the one thing that your heart had wished to see.

“Atsumu?”

His eyes widen as his chest expands, his heart growing ten times bigger than it was while it beats like a drum on heavy metal song.

“Y/N- I didn’t know- wow.” Breathless, speechless, weak- those were the words that defined your emotions. You wanted to pass out- to act like you just mistaken him for a person but he was real and you had a hard time believing it.

“Atsumu?" God, he missed it. The way his name would fall of those taunting lips of yours. The tone in your voice leading him back to the memories that he couldn’t push away.

You had to believe it. There was no other way that your starvation can make you this delusional. You called his name like you were unsure that he was ever real- like a character your brain had developed to cope with your sorrows. You dared to touch him, maybe if you did it would be a wisp of air but you were scared that if you reached out to him, you could feel his skin and remember how you wanted it to be within your grasp all the time.

Perhaps it’s a dream but this time you’d never want to wake up if this was the only way you can be together.

“Y/N..I- how are you?” How could he manage to act so civil? Your presence shocked him like electricity in his veins, pumping his heart at an unusual speed. His voice was unsteady and low, experiencing the same thoughts like you.

It’s like he was dragged back to your last encounter. Seeing your eyes filled with so much agony and how you looked so torn from his rejection, it’s the same look that you had now. It’s like his eyes were playing a risky game with him but he couldn’t complain since he’s been wanting to see you ever since you let go.

“Well, I’m burned-out that’s for sure.” You said with a light chuckle as he sits back down, wondering if it’d be alright to be close to you.

“What’s this interview about?” He asks, fiddling with the strings of his jacket while you tore your eyes away from him because you knew the admiration for him would erupt anytime soon.

“What got athletes into the sport in the first place.” Atsumu places his finger under his chin, thinking deeply about what offer he just made.

It’d mean that he could be in the same room with you for more than the hours he spent crying to himself but why waste the chance? You needed it- heck you wouldn’t be this distraught if you weren’t so affected by it. There was a never-ending list of things to do but meeting with Atsumu wasn’t even in your list of expectations because you were over with hoping into something that takes a miracle.

But he is the miracle.

“Atsumu..I don’t want you to see me like this.” You said, looking down on your hands that were on your lap, letting your hair fall in front of you to avoid his concerned gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen you in years, this is not what I planned to look like when I first see you.” Atsumu feels his heart frown at how low you spoke of yourself, but he understood. If you saw him in the state that you were in right now, he too would feel like he could’ve done or look better, even at least handle the situation without crumbling apart.

He knew you were in a troubled place of your mind but he just wonders where you could talk about why everything fell apart.

He missed the way it was casual to talk to you. Maybe an insult as a greeting, or a flick to the arm but he never expected to talk to you with his heart dropping in your hands. He just couldn’t forget the way you’d let him go that day during graduation, it’s almost like the sensation was still lingering around his palm even if he held a ball.

He just wished he said yes, only then, you’d be meant for each other.

“Do you mean it?” You asked sighing, not baring the weight of his silence. The pace of his heart quickens as he starts to worry if this was the confrontation that he held back all these years.

“The interview.” He was more than glad to do it. He was thankful that you weren’t talking about the bad memories or the circle of tension you two were in.

He looks at you while another strike was given to his heart seeing you this way. He’d do everything to bring back the color in your features.

“Of course.”

You smiled at his words as you both stand up but you felt conscious about the stain that was still stuck to your shirt making you desperately try to hide it by pulling your bag to the messed up section. Atsumu didn’t know that the person he had followed was the same person that got coffee dipped down on them. He didn’t recognize you at first because you had your hands covering your cries. He was worried for you when you ran off but when he knew it was you, he couldn’t believe if it was luck or a granted wish.

“Just wear this.” He says, handing you placing his jacket on your shoulders as your heart flutters at how he looked at you, completely filled with sincerity and the way his hand stayed on your shoulder.

“What the fuck do you want?” He asks you with a knife-like stare, purposely bumping harshly into you.

“Wow Miya, I was just walking.” You said returning the same fuel that he had.

“Then get out of my way then.”

“Thank you.” You said smiling lightly. He catches a glimpse of your smile and he feels his world light up at the sight of it.

I missed you.

“So where to?” He asks as you walk beside him just like old times. His height still intimidating you but it was still difficult to believe that this was the same Atsumu you had fallen for in high school.

“My apartment. We missed the bus so I hope it’s okay for you to wait.”

“I can always drive us there.” You’ve never whipped your head faster than this moment. You always trusted Osamu when he said that Atsumu couldn’t be a better driver than his own brother because Atsumu liked to rev up the engine like one of those scenes in a movie.

With the thought in your mind, you laughed.

Atsumu stops walking as he lets himself dwell at the sound of it.

Then there was a smile that he couldn’t contain.

“Sorry for laughing, ‘Tsumu. Never pictured you to have a car earlier than ‘Samu that’s all.” You explained as he chuckles, continuing to be beside you, a place that he finds himself to be the happiest.

“Yeah yeah I get it- I’m a little careless but not all the time y’know?” He says while he leads the way. The breeze felt comfortable now, it had a tweak of coldness but maybe it was just the atmosphere of you two.

When you walked to his car and told him your address, there was another silence but you tried to tell yourself that this was just Atsumu. Nothing to be worried about because you’ve known him for too long to act like all distant.

This is Atsumu- that's every reason that there is to feel nervous around him.

“How long have you been living there?” He asks while you started to feel just how badly you wanted to give in to sleepiness. You shifted once in a while to control yourself from falling asleep in his damn car. Every urge to just lay quiet for a while but you knew this would lead to a deep slumber.

“Ever since graduation.” You answered, annoyed that his jacket was inviting you to lay there and sleep away your stress though you were scared that once you wake up- Atsumu would be gone again.

“And you didn’t call to tell me about it?” He jokes but the chuckle that he expected never came because he knew just how awkward it’d be if you actually called just for that sole reason. Atsumu bites his lip at his failed attempt to drag the conversation on.

Then you giggled.

“I wanted to but I wouldn’t wanna bother the famous MSBY player.” You said smiling at him, proud that he continued on. You knew from Osamu of course, a single update when he had mentioned how well his restaurant had become, you also saw them in a poster once, even recognizing a few of his past opponents.

“Well, it would be a shame.”

There you are.

You finally arrived at your apartment and again you felt the slice of satisfaction as you removed your shoes and placed them on the table. You were partly thankful that your apartment was clean since you never have the time to spend a whole day in it only coming home late at night. Atsumu looks around as you prepare him a drink and a few snacks-it'd be rude not to.

Atsumu sees the photos where you won several awards for your loyalty and hardwork at your club. He sees how time passes and you grew into a version of you that he finds even more flawless then before. Your equipment and how everything was organized on your desk, he knew how much things changed because he used to see you doubt yourself every time you’d finish a paper but now you won awards because of them.

“Atsumu, is it alright if I shower real fast?” You asked while he raises a brow at you confused that you had to ask for his permission.

“Of course, Y/N- you didn’t have to ask.” He said chuckling while he sits on the couch, letting his eyes wonder around.

“I promise I’ll be back.”

“Please don’t rush yourself. Take yer time. “ He says while you smile at him before dashing to your room to gather new clothes, feeling like you’ve won a lottery with how happy you were to remove the coffee drenched top, tossing it to your laundry bin while you step into the shower enjoying the way the water decorated your skin, cleansing it from all the worries. While Atsumu scrolls on his phone to ease himself from the anxiousness. His finger would casually glide over Osamu’s phone number, to ask him what to do.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower like a whole new person. You saw the way Atsumu’s eyes lit up when you walked in but you pushed the thought away. He pats the seat next to him while you grabbed your notebook and pen, ready to scribble down the questions.

“Are there any uncomfortable questions you’d want to avoid?” You asked him while he shakes his head while you took note of the possible questions.

“Is it okay for the interview to be filmed?” He nodded while you leaned onto the pillow, sighing happily at how you’ve managed to calm down from the pile of embarrassment earlier.

“Thank you for doing this, ‘Tsumu- really you don’t know how much I appreciate you for this.” You said leaning your cheek on the side of the couch as Atsumu copies your actions staring at you lovingly.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He says smiling while you returned to write a list of questions for him. With every time you look down on your notebook, Atsumu’s eyes never left you while his mind recalls every moment where he msised the opportunity to tell you just how beautiful you were.

Soon, you’ve fallen asleep while he lets the feeling sink in.

I’ve never wanted to hold you more than I do now.

He sighs before placing the blanket on your body while he kneels down and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his finger tracing your cheek.

“You’ll never know how much I missed you.” He whispers while you shifted in your sleep meeting his face. Before he stands up, he feels you reach for him while he’s left surprise at your touch.

“Stay please.” You whispered while he smiles weakly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I always will.”

-

The morning comes and you felt the blush creep on your cheeks remembering how easily you felt asleep. You wondered if Atsumu stayed, if he left- you couldn’t really blame him. So yawning and stretching when you woke up, you certainly didn’t expect to see Atsumu cooking you some breakfast. You couldn’t even move your legs, every part of you has gone stiff just admiring the way he moves.

“Hey, good morning.” He greets with a wave, a spatula in his hand, a bright smile tugged on his lips.

“Atsumu- oh god I’m so sorry.” You said as you went to him. You caught a whiff of what he was cooking and you swore you could’ve drooled knowing you didn’t even got the chance to eat dinner. Atsumu knew that of course so he called Osamu up in the morning to serve you the best breakfast he could ever make. He was initially supposed to make you dinner but you fell asleep before he could do it so this was his rebound.

“Idiot, it’s fine. Just sit down on the table and I’ll prepare the food.”

“Atsumu-“

“Just go, Y/N. I promise it’s okay- you deserve to rest before you work again.” You couldn’t even think properly with his words. It was so minimum but it was something you’d forget to do- rest. Hearing him remind you that sets a new feeling in your system. You did obey him though, you sat on the table as he even handed you coffee for him and you, placing the breakfast on the table. God, he was everything. You thought that after a few years, you two would completely drift apart but it seems like you were wrong for the hundredth time.

“Please don’t even think about ways to thank me, it’s nothing to me. “ He says taking the seat next to you while you place the food on his plate. You couldn’t even utter a word at how grateful you were for him and he’d be happy to get used to seeing you first thing in the morning.

“Atsumu, after breakfast can we have a run down of the questions first?” You asked him, growing more comfortable.

“Yeah sure.”

-

You sat on the couch, placing your camera on the table aligning it to the best possible angle as Atsumu sits down in front of you. You had your notebook on your lap as he praises how you looked so professional even if it was just a practice.

“Ready?” You asked while he nods with a smile as you pressed the camera to shoot so you could keep your composure, even if you struggled to.

“What does the sport mean to you?” You asked him, your eyes glimmering with the suns rays hitting it perfectly, while the words were removed from Atsumus mind. Seeing his hesitation, you decided to reassure him.

“It’s fine if you can’t answer straight away. I can always change the question if you like.” You commented, smiling at him to make sure he doesn’t feel rushed to answer. He nods, still not finding the exact same words to describe what he wanted to say.

“I’ll change the question for now.” You said while he let’s out a sigh before listening to you once again.

“What was the biggest struggle in your career?” He sends you a worried stare but his mind nearly bursts at his answer.

“Getting over you.”

You dropped your pen on the couch as Atsumu continued to speak since this was the answer his heart was sure of responding to.

“I tried to forget- I did. For every year that passes, the more fucking harder it gets to act like I didn’t love you back when you walked away.”

“Atsumu-“

“I know I said no- I was too late to realize how stupid I was to be scared of falling for you. I couldn’t let myself be the man who could love you when all this time I tried to hate you because I knew I would hurt you- and I already did.”

We get hurt a lot but it doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you.

Love grew and died during your second year at Inarizaki.

Before Atsumu, you found Karou. A boy who was a new recruit to your group whose helped you multiple times and has shared a conversation with you about your similar likes. There was this strange infatuation with him that even Osamu had to question how deep was the bite of love on you. You’ve fallen, of course. Occasionally leaving notes on his desk to just let him know how he made your day but it never worked. He would only paste the note on another persons desk like it was nothing. Not even getting the reaction you wanted, it felt too normal when it shouldn’t be. Realizing how this was just rejection in the shadows, you gave up. Obviously heart broken at the mere thought of how your chances were blown away. When Atsumu saw how gloomy you were that day, he had to show you how much you didn’t need Karou and there grew a different bond between the both of you.

And with a bond like that, you became attached to him.

It was all becoming clearer and clearer as you realized that you fell for the wrong person first.

“You’re too stupid to fall for a douche like him. “ He says kicking the rock that was in front of him.

“You’re lucky with that admirer of yours, Miya. I’ve never seen someone stick around you for so long.” You teased. It’s true the half of the twin hearthrob has gotten himself a sincere admire. It wasn’t one of his crazy fans- this was a person who genuinely cared for him and the words on every note he received would make the poor boy blush uncontrollably and you envied how he’s yet to realize that he too was falling for this unknown person.

While you two were oblivious to the slip up of the universe, it took a toll on you.

Because the notes you’d leave on Karous desk, always ended up on Atsumu’s instead.

“I wanna meet them so bad. Just to see if they actually care and it’s not a prank. They haven’t given me a note and it’s been what a month? I doubt it was ever real.”

“With the amount of effort they gave, I’m sure it was real.”

It’s real for me even if it shouldn’t be.

There wasn’t any other way then to accept the feelings that stayed on your skin. The moments where you thought that being around Atsumu would bring you stressful banters and more, it turned into butterflies that surrounded your room. You chose to deny it at first but remembering that graduation and good-byes were near, you had to tell him at some point.

And when you did, you poured your heart out and not even a single drop was caught.

“Last words before I forget your dumbass?” He taunts while you felt your sweat drip down the side of your forehead as you couldn’t control it anymore. You wondered if there was a simple word to describe just how much you adored him without turning it into a whole speech. This was it- you had to do it or else you’d end up being stuck on the feeling of loving him.

“I..like you Atsumu and I can’t say good-bye without telling you.”

Then there was the awful silence that he gave making you clutch onto your shirt, preparing you for the worst.

But by the way he looked so terrified and frozen, you knew.

“Atsumu?”

“No- I’m sorry.”

“And I don’t know what I’d do if I let you leave again.” He whispers as he leans closer to you, taking your hands in his while your ability to speak has been taken away by how gentle he was as his thumb caresses your hand and a look that looked so fragile.

He takes his hand and cups your cheek, pulling you close to him as his vulnerability increases.

“Do you feel the same too?” He was being so careful because a wrong choice of a word could make it all fall apart again and you could feel how tense he was but he holds you like a gem- something so beautiful that it’d cost him his life if he ever dropped you.

Your hand lands on the same hand that was on your cheek while Atsumu’s eyes widen remembering how you neglected to hold his hand before.

But it stayed.

Closing your eyes and melting in his touch, you spoke.

“I never stopped loving you, Atsumu.”

He lets his forehead rest on yours, a smile on his lips, who was soon to be on yours.

“Then be mine all over again.”

[poptod]

The Breeding Kings, pt. 15, (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Dripping with dust.

Notes: i have a bunch of chapters backpiled, im gonna post them all and then dip. WC: 2.6k

+

Despite everyone's attempts to keep up a faster pace, many of you lagged behind, depleted entirely of energy after the long pause. Ahkmen had grown long accustomed to the heat, but that didn't stop him from complaining as he walked beside you, his shoulders sagging.

"I told you I didn't trust Batnoam," he grumbled quietly, half hoping you wouldn't hear.

"We can be dead now if we did not go with him," you said, swatting away the flies that swarmed around your heated head, and around the camel you rode.

"You don't know that," he said.

"And you do not know we would be better with Batnoam not here," you said with a saccharine smile.

He rolled his eyes but chuckled, giving away his true feelings on the matter.

You and Ahk brought up the rear once again, and by choice, allowing you few onlookers and listeners to judge your conversations. The only person that saw you was the one lagging behind––Makko. He'd been silent since his outburst, distant in both physical and psychological terms. There was an air of shame that he carried, one that he made himself, and one he suffered the burden of. Ahkmen spared a couple glances back, but had little idea on how he could help.

"Makko!" You called, twisting around in the loaded saddle.

Makko, who was previously staring at the ground, looked up.

"You do have water?" You asked, holding up one of your last full flasks.

"I, uh..." he mumbled, his words almost entirely muted beneath the footsteps in dry, cracking earth, "ran out a little bit ago."

"Then this," you said as you screwed the cap on tight, tossing it over to him.

"Oh. Zank you," he said in a lighter tone.

Banks of sand that flowed like water turned to arid, hard earth, devoid of any life or water. Red and yellow mountains broke out of the valley plateau, blocking away the edge of the sky and the distant cities beyond. As wide as it was, it was still a valley, and thus a place that would gather sunlight like a thief gathers gold, glowing yellow dust painting every surface around him. His hands were beginning to crack open much like the earth did, dry and deep. A burning sensation was building in his nose from the amount of dust kicked up by those he followed, and there was very little water left at all amongst the caravan.

You had little more than a few bites of dinner that next night. A growling stomach bothered you through a restless sleep, grasping desperately at the body next to you as you sweated from your twitching. Ahk couldn't manage to fall asleep, so he was awake to feel you gripping his hands and shirt, muttering something in a language he didn't know.

"Yogi?" He whispered, blinking away the sand that caught on his eyelashes.

You inhaled sharply, but your eyes remained closed.

"Yogasundari, calm down," he said as he raised his hand, stroking delicate fingers over your cheek and jaw. "It's alright."

You choked on yourself for a few more seconds before the harsh breaths gave way to evenness, slowing to match his own pace. Rapid, sleeping blinks slowed as well, creating a small sense of peace within the hostile desert. Ahk sighed, removing his hand from you.

"There you are," he murmured.

He got little rest after that.

Midnight faded into heated afternoon, the empty stomach, burning eyes and skin, and thirst remaining a staple of his aching body. A massive sun burned above, shining directly in the basin of red stone and dry dust. The water in his mouth turned to sweat on the back of his neck, sticking to his head covering, and running down the back of his shirt. Even the wind brought nothing but heat––boiling them inside a metalworker's furnace.

Days and nights followed in similar fashions, attempting to bring some semblance of comfort to each other, and too exhausted to bother interacting with others. Those walking in front of you turned silent as well, and Batnoam rarely spoke outside of mutterings to himself. Open mouths wasted precious water.

Several days later, in the evening, Ahk sat in the sand, his wooden totem in one hand and his knife in the other. He looked between the two of them, his eyes dragging listlessly from one object to the other as he blinked slowly. If he burned it, he'd be able to make a fire, albeit small since there was only one bush growing in the nearest crevice. Or, you could remain in the dark, and he could give a work of art to you. He turned to you, hoping to find some sort of answer, only to see you already asleep, your hand outstretched to him.

He shifted slowly into a lying position, moving your limp body as he needed till he wrapped himself in you, breathing deeply to slow his anxious heart. His lips, once soft as rose petals, were chapped and often bleeding, even as they pressed a weak kiss to your midsection.

The first signs of civilization were scant––travellers going in the opposite direction on roads you didn't know, causing Batnoam to take a detour to the south, to where the pathways were laid out. In either way there had to be humans, a city, or a village, and even more hopefully a wealth of water and food. But the residences you found yourself in the presence of were small, poorly made, and built upon a hilltop of ruins. On the other side of the town, however, was a vast, flowing river lined with soft grasses and shady trees. You let out a laugh––probably the first one anyone in the caravan had heard in a week––and threw your hands up into the air in victory.

"We did not die!" You cried, pouncing onto Ahk with a fierce hug that nearly toppled him onto the ground.

"Shut up!" Shouted a distant voice from within the village.

Since there were no walls put up around the establishment, there were no guards to protect a particular entrance. Instead, thin streets wove around unevenly placed buildings of clay and mud, many of which had roofs with reed mats set out beside ladders and spreads of drying fruit. As you got deeper into town, a few more intricate buildings came into view. Several floors high and carved in a peculiarly African fashion, they loomed above the other buildings as towers in the vacant sky, the mark of a once booming city state. Forgotten, empty, and rotting.

The people who passed by your large group gave you odd stares, but none wanted to speak to you, which made finding a kitchen or tavern rather difficult. In the end, you all figured they probably didn't have a tavern.

You made it all the way through town and out the other side, where––to Batnoam's knowledge––the Euphrates flowed. Here, the two riverbanks weren't all that far apart, and the water ran in a steady, clear ripple over rocks and mud. The grasses and trees you saw before were now before all of you, and you grinned in relief at the feeling of grass around your feet.

Camels knelt down in the soft dirt the moment they realized they were allowed to do so, and the many travellers that made up the caravan slowly removed all their baggage and belongings. You and Ahk got yours rather quickly, and moved to the side, checking that everything was still in place and unbroken.

As you opened up your first bag, Sephys came jumping out of it, causing you to flinch backwards with your eyes squeezed shut. You sighed once you realized she hadn't hurt you. She was, however, leaving you behind, as she shambled off to the riverside.

"Will she be alright?" Ahk asked, glancing between you and the cat.

"Oh, yes, she is good," you said dismissively.

You shuffled things around in your bags a moment more, your arms stuck deep within, the brim nearly sitting around your shoulder. Afterwards you sat back, taking a deep breath as you lay down.

Ahk made way to say something, but before he could, he noted Makko coming closer, alone with his bags. Crunching footsteps brought you to sit up and recognize him, as well.

"I vanted to say thank you, for being a friend," he said in a quiet voice. "I am going north now."

"With Khawa?" Ahk asked, but Makko shook his head.

"No, I am too much of a danger to have in ze... in a trader's caravan. I do not want Shirat, or any of zem, to get hurt."

Makko looked over his shoulder to Shirat, who was discussing something with Eshai, her long, black robes fluttering in the wind.

"I know," you said softly. "I know what it is, what you are. Hunted. I... hope you are well in your travels. Here, um... take this."

You pulled out a bottle filled with a strange, almost green liquid.

"It is for wounds. A little will do a lot," you said, handing it to him. He hesitantly took it.

"Thank you," he said, his voice cracking as he bowed his head and left.

Sitting from a distance allowed you and Ahk to slowly see the caravan split into different directions, some with and some without the camels that Batnoam began to sell. Soon, there were very few people left at all, and Ahk rose to his feet, gesturing for you to do the same.

"I don't want to have to talk to Batnoam again," he muttered in your ear, "so I think we should go now before he approaches us."

You agreed with a small, but definite, nod.

The two of you hauled your bags on your shoulders and backs, trecking back into town in hopes of finding something to eat, or a place to stay, at least for the night. A much longer pause was needed, but this town didn't seem like a good place to stop and rest up. More of a 'take a breath and keep going' kind of place.

Despite that, it still was the beginning of evening, and you were both irreparably exhausted and hungry. Sick of trying to negotiate food with the inhabitants of the town––which was called Mari, according to Batnoam––you instead took up a place along the river's shore, hiding yourselves from view within thickets of soft, green leaves. There you started up the fire, while Ahk fashioned a long, wooden pike that he drove into the riverbed in search of fish. Sephys eventually made her way to you as well, joining Ahk in trying to catch a meal.

You chuckled when he swore, ripping the stick out from between lodged rocks. He nearly slipped onto his back as he did, so when he caught himself, his eyes were wide as the sky, causing you to only laugh even more.

After a while his feet began to freeze in the water, and he lugged himself up on shore devoid of any fish. In a disappointed heap he returned to you, panting as he sat down, warming his feet on your fire.

"I have no heal potion now," you said, pulling a small mixing pot out from your bag. "I need to make one."

"How'd you do that?" He asked.

"Mint, chamomile, and honey of marigolds. And tears from being sad, but I get those later, when I am sad next," you recited as you once more dug into your bag, searching through your dried herbs.

"Do marigolds grow here?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"You know more than I," you said with a shrug.

A few moments later you pulled out two leather drawstring bags, both of them fitting into the palm of your small hands. You didn't do anything with them, though––just set them beside your bag, and stood up with an empty bag at your side.

"You get fish," you said, gesturing to the river. "I do find the flower."

"I'm not sure I can," he said, a feeling of dreariness washing over him as he considered his own shortcomings.

"I know you can," you assured him as you bent down in front of him, meeting his eye with a smile before you turned and left.

He sighed deeply, willing himself to move from his spot in front of the warm fire that contrasted the cool wind coming off the river. Eventually, after staring at Sephys for far too long, he snatched his spear up from beside him and stood, wading back into the water.

When you at last convened back at the dwindling fire, you came back empty-handed, but Ahk had caught a little bit of luck. A fish large enough for the two of you cooked over the flames, attracting Sephys back to you, who batted at the spinning stick. You giggled, pushing her away so Ahk could continue slowly roasting. She returned to the river after a while of being jostled about, leaving you alone with Ahk, your hands unoccupied by the marigolds you couldn't find.

"Tired?" He asked, noting your slumped posture leaning on one hand, your eyes half-closed.

"Yes," you said with a nod. "And you are."

"Can't say you're wrong," he mumbled.

You ate in silence, digging away at the unseasoned fish with gusto unparalleled in the entirety of the past week. The mere scent of water tempted your tastebuds, so the feeling of fresh meat was more of a relief than you ever imagined it could be, even dusted with the dirt you hadn't washed your hands of. You hardly noticed, gulping down the food until nothing remained but bones. The skin, Ahk had cut earlier, before cooking it.

When you finished, you tossed the bones into a small pile near the river. Sephys sniffed the remains and curled away when she realized there wasn't any meat left, returning to sit by you. Dust and twigs scratched at your palms pressed into the ground, and when Ahkmen noticed this, he heaved himself to his feet and motioned for you to do the same.

"Why?" You asked, your head lolling to face him.

"Please," he said, and you did, picking up Sephys with you.

He laid out a blanket, the span of it stretching in a circle beside the fire. You both sat down, keeping closer together as possible, and eager to feel the softness of dirt instead of hard rock beneath you. Evenings were still rather warm, yet remained more of a comfort than anything else. A time of silent communication, speaking through fingers tracing in one another's skin, watching the fire slowly die out to feed the glowing stars above.

It wasn't long till you passed out, your head falling onto Ahk's shoulder. He simply chuckled, situating the both of you till you were both lying down, him on his back to look up at the stars, and you curled into him. Trees with their limbs and leaves blocked portions of the sky, but there still remained small pockets of sprinkled light. What was previously warm turned cold, and the ease of his heart faded into disparity as memories occurred to him, of you, of Egypt, and of Piye. How far he had roamed to follow you, and how far he sat from his home by the Nile.

That was where he belonged, wasn't it? His eyes were weary and he had little room to worry with you next to him and the journey still ahead. But in his dreams he returned to his temples, to the wealth of water and riches, and to his family, for whom he never left a note.

[nxrthmizu]

| the detective and the blue-eyed fox | ch.5

»»——⍟——««

title | all her fault 

pairing | Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng 

warnings | mentions of death, death, but nothing explicitly described

words | 3.1k 

author’s note | im emotionally invested in this series, i have ch.6 and ch.7 planned out too :3 prepare yourself for more twists and (maybe) a major death :))) also this wasn’t proof-read,,, lmk if there are any mistakes! enjoy :3 

»»——⍟——««

| beginning | previous part | ao3 | 

»»——⍟——«« 

Three walls of cement and one wall of two-inch glass. Gabriel Agreste faced the four blank slates of his confinement everyday for three months, pondering on how he was going to endure the remaining of his days in his dreary ‘home’. They wouldn’t even provide him with paper to create some sketches on- (What were they afraid of? Paper butterflies? He was powerless without his miraculous). 

“So, what business do we have today, Ms. Rossi?” He asked smoothly, business-like as ever despite not being able to remember the last time he had a conversation. Three months of complete isolation- The guards wouldn’t even spare him a single word, and to be fair, he couldn’t blame them. 

“Did you hear about Adrien?” 

Being straightforward when she wanted to be was one of Lila’s strong traits. Her words were driven to the point, cleared from the lies that typically shrouded them. A borderline sadistic smile traced her vermilion lips when a spark of curiosity glimmered in the man’s eyes- Oh, she was going to enjoy being the bearer of the staggering news. 

“What about Adrien?” She could tell- He was expecting something perhaps along the lines of his son screwing up the company he inherited, or perhaps his son making a public statement about- 

“He’s dead.” 

Gabriel froze from where he was seated on the cement block they provided him with, red draining from his already-pale skin and his bloodshot eyes. “What?” His voice was but a hoarse whisper, a denial, a beg, a plea for the woman to laugh and tell him that it was all some cruel joke. 

“He was murdered.” Oh, how she enjoyed seeing the anguish dawn into his eyes. The pain seeped into his body like a parasite, leeching away any will of survival the man had left. “Two weeks ago.” 

If getting stripped of his miraculous and being arrested was the sky crashing upon the world he tried so hard to bring his wife back into, then the revelation of his son’s death would be the universe collapsing into itself, becoming a black hole that self destructed from the very core of Gabriel Agreste’s heart. 

“Felix Graham de Vanily is combining the Agreste and the Vanily companies with a horizontal merger,” Lila continued, enjoying the acidic pain that burned through the heartless man’s soul. “Oh, and did I tell you? From the day Adrien died, Chat Noir stopped patrolling the city.” 

The rush of ‘What if he was murdered because I was Hawkmoth?’ and ‘There are no more Agrestes left...’ smashed into him like water reaching the bottom of the waterfall. There was no mercy behind the strong wave of despair; no mercy behind Lila Rossi’s cold eyes and satisfied smile; no mercy that the world had left for him as a punishment for all his crimes. 

“I think I might know who killed him, but I need you to be honest with me,” Lila said softly, enjoying the view of the man’s bowed head. The swollen red of his teary eyes made something inside her heart stir, and it wasn’t sympathy. No, not at all. Her heart swelled with a triumphant laugh, a satisfaction that can only be achieved through the means of revenge. “What happened to the peacock miraculous?” 

»»——⍟——«« 

[Paris, three months ago] 

In the midst of destruction you could easily find pain, agony, and despair, because wherever you looked, there was someone who had no time to mourn, but still mourned nonetheless. Ladybug had lost count of how many Paris lost after the hundredth- And the count was only increasing exponentially by every passing second. The former city of love was doing its’ best impression of a society undergoing an apocalypse- In fact, it was a society undergoing an apocalypse. 

Exhaustion clawed at Paris’s heroine like a monster that wanted to be released from its’ cage. It tore at her without pause, releasing soreness into her muscles and weariness into her mentality. How much longer did she had to fight? How much longer until she couldn’t go on anymore? How much longer until Paris would fall into the hands of the man who could only focus on what he wanted? 

And what would happen to Paris if she couldn’t stand any longer to defend it? 

Smoke painted every inch and corner of the skyline in an abstract painting, which would’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t because of the direness of the situation. The clouds were stained a dirty red and firetrucks wailed in the distance, too little of them to keep up with the demand of damage control. Screams echoed across the city, a painful reminder to the heroine of how many lives she had let down. Nothing pained the heroine more than the fact she had been trusted with so many and ended up failing just as many.

A little distance away, shrouded under the same red sky that Ladybug stood under, was the Le Grand Paris. A section of the grand hotel had caved in, leaving the top half of the building in ruins. The golden embellishments of the hotel were caked in dust, the grandeur of Paris’s greatest hotel submitting to the chaos and destruction around it. 

“Come on! Get in here! Hurry up!” 

Chloe couldn’t believe her eyes. 

There stood Mayor Bourgeois, urgently yelling out orders for as many people as possible to get into the hotel’s wine cellar, which would be underground and as safe as it got at the moment. The endless stream of Parisians flowed continuously through the open doors of the hotel, the hotel’s large wine cellar being able to accommodate about half of Paris’s (surviving) population. 

For once in her life, Chloe was proud to call the mayor her father. 

“Daddy! I’ll go get more people here!” She yelled over the bustling noise. Worry clumped over the mayor and butler Jean’s eyes, but her father nodded nonetheless, a smile slipping over his lips. 

“Be careful, my dear!” 

On the other side of Paris, Alya was holding onto her younger siblings as tightly as she could, all four of them hidden under the dining table. A loud ring startled all of them, the second-oldest Cesaire turning her attention to her phone. Earthquake-like vibrations made multiple household objects topple and smash onto the floor, much to the twins’ terror. 

“Chloe?” She breathed, picking up the call. 

The voice that came in response was panting, taking hurried, shuddering breaths. The consistent thump-thump-thump of footsteps also echoed through the phone, accompanied by the distance rings of destruction. “Where are you? Get your family towards Le Grand Paris, you can hide in the wine cellar!” 

Alya couldn’t believe the blonde’s words. 

“And if you’re up to it, spread the word! The wine cellar is the safest place we have right now.” 

The call ended, Alya blinking back her surprise in exchange of a courage that surged forward all of a sudden. “Nora, take Ella and Etta to Le Grand Paris and hide in the wine cellar.” 

“And where are you going?” 

Alya steeled her jittering nerves. “I’m going to get out there and help.”

Not too far away from the Cesaire’s apartment, Ladybug was swinging through the city, surveying the damage. The whizz of her yoyo felt deafening to her ears, and everything hurt. Her muscles were sore, her legs were shaking, and her vision felt blurry. Half of Paris was a rubble of cement and dust, and the other half was on the verge of collapsing soon. 

Ladybug’s eyes widened in horror as she jerked back, catching sight of a familiar building that was so burdened with destruction that she could barely recognise it if it wasn’t for the fact that she knew she was on the right street. 

“No. No, no, no. Nononono-” Her breath caught in her throat, suffocating and strangling her from inside. 

The bakery had collapsed. 

She prayed with all her heart that her parents had gotten out, but from the looks of it, the bakery was hit fast and the chances that- 

No. 

“Think positive thoughts, Marinette.” The heroine whispered to herself, desperate and unwilling to face what she was sure was the truth. “Maybe they got out. Maybe they got out. They’re fine.” 

Even as she swung off, Ladybug knew in her heart that despite the lies she insisted on telling herself, her parents’ dead bodies were somewhere underneath the rubble. 

»»——⍟——«« 

“Mamma!” Tears streamed down Lila’s face as she tugged and pulled at the portion of their ceiling that had chosen the diplomat as its’ victim. There was no use- Both of them knew as well as 1 + 1 that there was no way Lila could lift the concrete block by herself. 

The diplomat looked up with a weak smile, already having come to terms with how her life would end- With her lower half crushed by a ceiling. “Leave me here, dear, the building’s going to-” 

Lila shook her head stubbornly, desperately trying to lift the concrete again, only to look up in surprise, not having expected a pair of spandexed hands to join hers. Ladybug let out a grunt as she tried to nudge the collapsed ceiling even just a little, her suit tearing due to the rough surface of the collapsed ceiling. 

“Come on, we’ll push at the count of three!” The hero instructed, groaning and giving all her strength to the giant piece of debris, but it was no use. Ladybug was tired and worn out, and the little strength she had in her was not enough to overcome the concrete’s stubbornness to stay put. “I... I could...” She flung out her yoyo, trying to think of a way to use the concrete’s weight against itself. 

“Ladybug, the building is collapsing, please just leave me be.” The diplomat pleaded. “Lila, please get out of here!” 

The building groaned, supporting the woman’s statement. Ladybug bowed apologetically, guilt lurking in every corner of her eyes. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance, ma’am.” 

“You’ve done a lot for Paris. I should thank you.” The woman whispered, smiling painfully at her daughter. “I’m sorry, Lila. I love you, forever.” 

The girl sniffled, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I love you too, mamma.” 

“Come on, Lila.” Ladybug whispered gently, pulling the teen away. It was as heart-wrenching as abandoning a puppy on the side of the road on a rainy day, but the diplomat was right- The building was giving in, and if they didn’t get out themselves, Paris’s death count would only increase by another two. 

The escape from the building was quiet, only filled by the whizz of the yoyo. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have done more.” Ladybug said softly. 

“It’s not your fault.” Lila sniffled bitterly. Now that they were soaring over the city, Lila could see just how much of it was crumbled and broken- At least 70% of the city was reduced to rubbles, and the Eiffel tower, who had once stood tall at the core of Paris, had now bowed down to the wrath of the man who knew nothing but his own wants. 

It was at that moment that Lila Rossi decided that the person she hated the most was Hawkmoth.  

»»——⍟——«« 

You never know the true meaning of horror until you live that one moment that crushes you inside. 

It freezes your blood, it makes your heart stop, and your chest feels like its’ being constricted. You can’t breath, and your field of vision just narrows to the one point that defines the cause of all your pain. Sometimes, you don’t even know what you feel. All emotion has been drained out of you, and your brain has lagged behind, unsure of how to react. 

Chloe stood in front of Le Grand Paris- The remains of it, anyway, and came to the conclusion that her father saved at least a thousand lives that day. All by putting aside his own safety and shepherding millions of his citizens into the wine cellar. 

It was over. 

It took hours for the firefighters to dig out the entrance to the wine cellar, millions and thousands of relieved Parisians crawling from the hole. The daughter of the mayor sat and waited, helping wherever she could. There were too many tears shed, too much blood bled, and too many people dead. 

She watched the line of Parisians trickle from what was formerly Le Grand Paris’s wine cellar. She waited and waited until the sun finally had mercy on Paris and ended the day that would be marked as the end of the city of love. She prayed and hoped until she saw the last man crawl from the cellar. 

And then she faced the truth that neither her father nor butler Jean made it into the wine cellar themselves. 

»»——⍟——«« 

Adjusting to the bright light shining around her was difficult, to say the least. Paris had been shrouded in semi-darkness for the past twenty-four hours. 

Marinette sat up hurriedly, groaning at the piercing pain that shot thorugh her spine at the action. All around her were her friends’ worried faces, Alya’s, Adrien’s, Nino’s, Chloe’s- Were those tears on Chloe’s cheeks? And was that Lila comforting her?

“Alya found you passed out in the middle of the street after it ended.” Nino explained quickly. 

Ah, that was what they were calling it now, Marinette thought. The battle she had fought for over fifteen hours without pause was now labelled ‘It’. 

“What were you doing out there, you could’ve died!” Alya scolded, but despite the tone, the teen was more glad than anything to see that the bluenette had made it. 

“Where... Are we? And why is everything so... Destroyed?” 

The classmates shared looks that practically spelt ‘Who’s going to break it to her?’. 

“Ladybug disappeared after the battle was won. She never got to use her miraculous cure.” Chloe supplied the explanation coldly. “Thousands are dead. Almost every building needs to be rebuilt.” 

Adrien offered her a weak smile that was on the verge of breaking. “Hawkmoth is gone for good.” There was a faint suggestion in the boy’s eyes that he was going through much more pain than any of them knew. “Hawkmoth... My father. My father was Hawkmoth. He was arrested a couple hours ago. Nathalie was Mayura.” 

Silence shrouded the teens like a  black rain cloud. “I’m sorry, Adrien.” Marinette whispered. It was coming back to her now- Chat Noir’s anguished screams when they discovered Gabriel Agreste, decked out in his purple suit, standing in the attic of Agreste Manor, Mayura’s escape- Feeling like she couldn’t go any further. The last thing she remembered was her transformation dropping, and contact with the cold hard ground. 

“Don’t be.” Lila responded nonchalantly. “I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that this whole shit was Hawkmoth’s fault and no one else’s. Almost everyone has lost a family member. Some of us lost more than others. It’s no one’s fault, so don’t you go apologising, Dupain-Cheng.” 

Her friends murmured their agreements, giving her soft smiles despite the devastation that tore at each of their hearts. 

Marinette wanted to laugh. 

Thousands dead and it was because she couldn’t hold on for two more seconds to use her miraculous cure. 

Thousands dead, including her own parents, Lila’s, and god knows how many others’ parents, siblings, lovers, and friends. 

Thousands dead and it was all. Her. Fault. 

»»——⍟——«« 

“Well?” 

Impatience decorated Lila’s tone as she tapped her heels, waiting for the terrorist’s answer. The click of her heels echoed through the room, bouncing off the concrete walls to create the loudest noise Gabriel had ever heard in a long time. 

“What happened to the peacock miraculous?” She repeated one more time for good measure, irked and irritated by the lack of answer from the other side of the glass. 

“It’s gone.” Gabriel answered softly after a while. “When they found Nathalie passed out in that alley, she didn’t have her miraculous on.” The man’s former assistant had fled after Ladybug and Chat Noir confronted them in the Agreste Manor, but two hours later, she was found unconscious in a back alley, and it was later discovered in the hospital that she had fallen into a coma. 

Bewilderment lit inside the woman’s eyes, burning beside the fury that blazed inside her soul. “Are you telling me someone stole them?” She hissed, resisting the urge to slam her hands on something. 

“No.” Gabriel answered reluctantly, slightly afraid of the woman’s fury. If it was any consolation, he knew the two-inch glass wall would prevent her from inflicting any harm onto him. “I’m telling you that Duusu probably ran off with her own miraculous.” 

The woman sucked in a deep breath, regulating her breathing to regain her composure. “Then do you have any idea where she went?” 

“Duusu is corrupted and manipulative, but she’ll need a host to operate through. She’d probably look for someone emotional, someone who’s lost a lot and is in a lot of pain.” Gabriel sighed, looking up to be met by Lila’s annoyed expression. 

“Oh wow.” Said the woman sarcastically, hands propped on her hips in a pretentious, thoughtful manner. “Someone emotional, someone who’s lost a lot and is in a lot of pain. That just about defines everyone that survived the apocalypse you laid on us three months ago.” 

It was at that moment Lila’s sarcastic attitude brought Gabriel to a terrifying conclusion. There was no amount of sympathy in her eyes, and judging from the hate and loath in her eyes... The revelation splashed him like a cold bucket of ice water, waking him up from the small smudge of hope he got to hold for a couple of seconds. 

“You aren’t here to get me out.” He whispered. Just when he thought that the sly woman was going to get him out of the four walls he was trapped in- She slammed her true intentions back into his face with no mercy. 

“You killed my mother, you bastard.” She smiled so sweetly that he wouldn’t be surprised if she was instantly cast as the beautiful but wicked stepmother from Snow White or perhaps the enchantress from Sleeping Beauty. “As well as the friends and family of thousand others. I hope you rot in jail forever.” 

»»——⍟——«« 

If anyone’s confused on the timeline of the story, this is how it goes: 

3 months before current time, the final battle takes place (ch.5). Thousands die because Ladybug didn’t get to use her miraculous cure. Hawkmoth is arrested and Nathalie falls into a coma. Ladybug/Marinette leave Paris after the battle is over.

Ladybug/Marinette heads to Gotham, where Marinette gets hired into GCPD and becomes partners with Damian. She also becomes Gotham’s newest vigilante, Lan, who exposes corrupt politicians 

2 weeks before current time, Adrien Agreste is murdered and Chat Noir stops patrolling Paris. (This is when Marinette learns from Tikki that Adrien and Chat are the same person even though the conversation wasn’t written) 

Current time (ch.1) Lan asks Damian to help her find the miraculous of the black cat 

Damian, the next day, finds out that Plagg and the black cat miraculous have been in his apartment the whole time (He then emails her and asks her to go to his apartment to discuss things) 

(ch.4) Damian and Marinette talk 

At the same time, in Paris, Luka visits Chloe, who is apparently in kahoots with him 

Also at the same time, Lila breaks into the highest security prison in Paris and talks to Gabriel Agreste/Hawkmoth (also partly ch.5) 

That’s about it for now :3 

taglist. @demonicbusiness @animegirlweeb @roselynfey @2confused-2doanything @insane-fangirl-of-everything @promiswords @galaxylightmoon @fusser90 @ira-sairain @liquid-luck-00 @glastwime859

gen. daminette taglist. @maskedpainter @animegirlweeb @missmadwoman

»»——⍟——«« 

| next part | ao3 | 

»»——⍟——«« 

[hwallout]

quatervois - ljy

summary: “Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

words: 21,7k (this was 38 pages on word im,,,i birthed a monster im so sorry)

genre: assassin!juyeon, assassin!reader, angst, drama, fluff, crack if u use a microscope

warnings: (not explicit) violence, murder, language

early an: holy shit it’s here

The way you got introduced and became a part of such a job wasn’t exactly how one would imagine.

Becoming an assassin hasn’t been a direct wish of yours. As expected, in the beginning, this exact possibility had never crossed your mind. Growing up in an ordinary, middle-class household, it was expected of you to follow the footsteps of many. Never the smartest kid in class, but with a knack for logic and solving thought experiments, you’ve imagined becoming a philosopher of some type. Nothing too spectacular, but interesting enough and different than a usual 9-5 job.

So then, how exactly have you come to holding a knife against a random man’s throat almost daily?

Of course, while young, a person is prone to the effect of the outside world and people surrounding them. Some pupils are lucky enough to live in the best surroundings and are given amazing opportunities; therefore, they grow up into kind, successful people. Then, there are those who thanks to certain circumstances end up walking a different path, all of them hoping for the best possible outcome.

In today’s society, the importance of money was huge. It was expected that every family, containing at least one adult person, was able to deal with constant fluctuation of cash and sudden, unanticipated expenses. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in many households and those kids had to experience helpless life without enough money, while their parents fought for every coin.

It was incredibly unfortunate that it affected you as well, even so in the worst possible moment – right before university.  

Thanks to stupid reasons that could’ve easily been prevented, your family fell into dept, causing both of your parents to find second jobs. Not having enough money to continue with a rather expensive education, you felt obliged to find a job.

And of course, being so young and ambitious, but mostly misfortune driven, you thought that the future of the household was in your hands. It was a must to find something that pays good, fast.

Consequently, the first night was spent scrolling down the endless pages of Google. You searched for something that didn’t require any special education (because of obvious reasons), but would generously help your situation. Seconds extended into minutes, those into hours, days even. Finding a good job with no degree was pretty hard, yet what else could’ve you expected?  

The issue had you visiting most irrelevant sites, clicking on shady ads (and installing a thousand viruses, probably), asking strangers in online chatrooms. Lost and unexperienced, you struggled and almost accepted the proposal of being a stripper in a famous strip club downtown.  

Almost.  

The job you were suddenly introduced to was something seen in movies and video games only. For whichever reason, it appeared in a dream one night. The dream had you play the main character, dressed in all black, doing all the terrifying, dirty work with random weapons, but being paid a huge sum afterwards. It was scandalous enough to have you hesitating for a little while upon waking up, disgusted at the thought of doing it.

Still, remembering the money filled suitcase, you’ve overcome the initial revulsion fast. Unexpectedly intrigued by the idea, you thought a little research couldn’t hurt anyone. Finding a reliable site that offered information on paid assassins only took a couple of minutes. The author of the article was an ex-FBI agent, therefore you thought there couldn’t be data more reliable than this. Upon a quick look, you’ve come to the conclusion that the study was most definitely written with intent of educating people on this topic, rather than motivating them to apply for it. Oh well.

From an objective point of view, it was exactly what you were looking for. It didn’t require any special degree from any university and it paid horrendously well, with small variations on the amount due to different employers. Reading further though, you realized that not just anyone can become an assassin, or hitman, as people liked to call it.

It demanded years of training, hard work and terrifying change. The author described it as “...complete mutation of one’s mind and personality, utter desensitization to almost everything. Those people become machines...”. You didn’t doubt their words, on the contrary, you believed them completely. It was only logical that a person has to get used to blood, extreme violence, emotionless murder, which were no ordinary or acceptable sights and actions. Of course, you were in denial, about to laugh at yourself for even reading the article seriously.

But then your eyes landed on the pay again. The numbers were huge. It would definitely help. Your family needed this. Sacrifices had to be made.

The next day, you bought a burner phone with the last bits of your savings. Entering an empty alley, you immediately dialed a phone number you’ve found at 3am. You didn’t know what was the worst that could happen, seeing as you were dialing a shady number from a shady website with shady intentions. Maybe the phone would blow up – in which case thankfully, it was a burner. But that then meant you wasted money with no reason.  

Thankfully, the other side picked up and scheduled a meeting for the next day.

Everything about it was suspicious, from the first to the last moment. From the first meeting with a tall, fat man, wearing an expensive suit and a shiny Rolex on his wrist, to the moment that exact man patted you on the back for good luck on your first mission.

The training was all you’ve expected and more. Tears, sweat and especially blood were shed during that tough period. You were put through complete torture – whether it be emotional or physical. In the beginning, they had you watch videos containing mild abuse of random people, only to progress to horrible violence as time passed by. In times where you wanted to look away, a stern and strong man would yell at you, ordering to stay focused on the task – one that would make you used and nonchalant to seeing such monstrosities.

You were trained to take words, threats and even hits with a straight face, only to return ten times harder. Sometimes you thought that self-defense classes you were offered but never took in the past, would’ve definitely helped with the current situation. Simple pistols were immediately introduced to you, strange looking men always pressuring you into improving the mediocre aim. More complicated guns and snipers were thrown in your direction upon noticeable improvement.

Surprisingly, they began “paying” you from the start. The big boss said it was because he noticed your potential and incredibly fast progress, therefore used the money as constant motivation for further improvement. Unfortunately, the trainees you’ve encountered weren’t so positive about it, saying it was the boss’ way of making sure no one ditches out once they enter (“you’ll have to pay the complete sum back, he basically indebted you”). The money you received wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a good starting position.

In a relatively short period of time, a huge change happened. You’ve transformed from someone whose eyes watered at harsh words, body flinched at sudden movement and hands shook while holding a knife, to a person who had no trouble taking a hit to the face, only to counterattack by slitting throats.

Your knack for logic and solving thought experiments and predicting outcomes came in handy, for they’ve worked on further developing that as well. They created a thousand puzzles, testing possible situations (“you have to run away, which route do you take?", "two witnesses saw you; how do you deal with them without anyone else noticing?”), always questioning your answers (“but then wouldn’t that make you more exposed?”, “what if suddenly your target chose to change their usual route?”) and having you argument them thoroughly.

You were trained to notice even the smallest of similarities between two situations, perceive possible danger/risks, predict where a target would appear next based on their recent roundabouts and analyze certain types of behavior. Basically, they tried recreating situations that would slowly introduce you to the harder part of your future job – the planning, unnoticed execution and escape from the crime scene.

The boss had personally hired personnel to train your selective attention. Everything a normal person would pass by and dismiss, you’d notice. The unusual movement of leaves in the corner of your eyes, a black bird in a flock of dark grey ones, the inconsiderable change in a person’s demeanor, a reoccurring but overlooked detail in everyday situations.

Friends weren't particularly made in such a setting; therefore, like many others, you've been alone through it all. Evidently, you've noticed other people around, mostly teenagers who were just introduced to the whole thing – yet never really bothered or had enough time to go and meet them. Everybody was just as scared and hesitant as you were when it all started. In the end, who knew who you'd have to fight against in the future. “Save yourself a heartbreak”.

Interestingly enough though, there was a boy who caught your eye. You weren’t sure when he was recruited, for he never seemed lost or inexperienced. The boy would walk confidently around the training site, shoot exceedingly well at the shooting range and progress through his endurance training perfectly.

Silently, you watched and admired the handsome boy with attentive eyes. Everything about him was as captivating as ever, further piquing your interest with every passing day. His form and skill were envious, while his mature behavior and breathtaking looks stole your breath away.

Eventually though, the boy disappeared.

Your parents were a sensitive topic. At first, they were told the job you found didn't have fixed hours, which sounded like the only logical explanation for why you never came home at the same time.

When the training became more serious and the changes in your personality and looks became obvious, you stopped seeing them. The place of stay was a motel a couple of miles away from the training site (or the supposed store you lied working at). Despite their constant messages and phone calls, pleads to come back home and stop “overworking” yourself, you stood your ground. The money you were paid was still linked back to them, and after a while you were informed that the debt was no more.  

Unfortunately, though, you've come to the point where you didn't want to back out from this horrendous job. And a couple months later, the boss forced you to cut contact with your parents.

Maybe it was for the better, because it wasn't possible to predict if they'd even recognize you. Their daughter built muscle, had a scarred body and went through a drastic change of personality. The desensitization did wonders to young minds. It came to the point where you were able to firstly watch and then execute a certain violent act (on a specialized, human-like doll), without having to look away. The two elders definitely wouldn't want such a person in their household.  

Although there really should've been, there was no shame or regret once the trainee period was finished and your feet set out on the first ever mission and first real kill.

Fast forward a few years after the first mission, and you were considered a high valued assassin.  

There really was no proper reason, but the flow of the river happened to direct you towards the more infamous customers. Drug dealers, wanted criminals, corrupted politicians, all sorts of people involved with illegality hired you. Over time, you've gotten used to it. Already familiarized with customers, type of targets and forms of execution, switching to work for a different type of people simply stopped crossing your mind.

Your prices weren't low at all. Actually, they were one of the highest for the job, yet with a great reason. Despite the victim count passing hundred, there hasn't been a single case that was ever (properly) solved, the employers always getting away with their work. Not even once have you been suspected or connected to any of the assassinations either, and it was all thanks to your tactics.

One could argue that there weren’t many ways a person could be murdered, but you managed to prove such a statement wrong. Not a lot of executions you've done followed the same path – which only showed how creative but also knowledgeable your mind was.

Because of one simple hair strand, whose color faded a long time ago, they called you Red. The nickname stuck with you ever since those torturous, trainee days, and nowadays, it helped avoid using your real name. You doubted anyone even knew what it was.

An interesting period began during your sixth year. Numerous politicians, usually the ones that heavily opposed the new government, would be found dead around the city. Not just them, but gang and mafia leaders who became too powerful and prominent in the public eye as well – many of those who hired you in the past.

Much like always, this government experienced the lack of trust and satisfaction from citizens. Rightfully so though, the public demanded change after supposed rigged elections, finally having enough of the fake democracy. Heavy and frequent protests blew up the nation, huge crowds of people led by a few brave individuals. Unfortunately, though, a few weeks in, the leaders of those would be found dead after announcing the protest scheme.

The terrifying amount of sudden assassinations were never solved or explained. At least to the public. The huge leap in numbers shouldn’t have been thrown under the mat so easily, yet it just happened. People began living in anger and fear. All the officials had to say about it was a simple “we're looking into it, but it’s not our main priority”, words that only intensified the rage felt by the citizens. That topic would always be dismissed with the same exact answer, occasionally adding that those assassinated already had “worrisome and problematic backgrounds”.

“It was only a matter of time when something as tragic as death would happen to them”

The situations greatly benefitted them; they wouldn't make an effort to explain whatever happened even if they weren't involved. All of those people worked against them, one way or another anyway. Still, the murders weren't spontaneous, and just like many others, you caught onto their sly play.

For a little while, you tried getting some insight and information on the cases. Your intentions weren’t to solve them and serve justice, but rather find whoever was the one hired by the government. It was pure curiosity to know who was the infamous colleague.

The information given to the public (obviously) wasn't much, and you were left connecting all the different cases using simple wide shots and shitty descriptions. The best source of information appeared to be freelancing journalists, who published the most details. Unsurprisingly though, those weren't enough for a proper open case either, for someone evidently prohibited them from posting more.

One thing that had you frowning was the fact that everything was way too clean, perfect and similar to your own way of work.

Closing the laptop after reading yet another empty article, you looked around the dark room. Sighing out in frustration and cracking fingers one by one, you wondered if you're supposed to consider those people your actual colleagues or rather enemies.

The clock ticked eleven and fifteen; just forty-five minutes before midnight. The atmosphere in the tiny apartment was calm, no sound other than your quiet breathing heard. Darkness filling your bedroom was only interrupted by the big moon that greeted you through an open window. Yet, much like any other Friday, the outside world seemed to be bustling with life, getting ready for what's yet to come.  

Standing up, you stretched fast and walked towards the entrance door. Picking up a black coat from the hanger, keys and phone from the little table next to it, you headed outside. Tomorrow was yet another mission, this time a man by the name of Lee Baekgon. The reason was usual, another member of a gang who had involved himself with the government, becoming an unfortunate mole.  

Thanks to the extensive week-long watch and study you've done on the man you had gotten used to his ethics and everyday habits. The experience you had and the surprisingly uninteresting and bland life of Lee Baekgon allowed you to do so in such little time – which always brought more money. The faster the execution is, the more expensive it is, and of course, you cared about the amount in your pocket.

Now, having everything planned out and prepared, you went out for a relaxing walk – as per usual on the night before. The streets were filled with people, hurrying in all directions, either coming back from their late shifts or going out with their friends.

Setting a regular pace, you camouflaged into the crowd and breathed in heavily. Colorful lights from nearby stores lit up the street in a thousand shades, creating a unique palette out of the usually dull path. Your eyes skimmed over people, not really staying locked on anyone's head or scalp. All of them were plain shapes to you, only looking similar to those who you've had the job of executing. Either way, it was pleasurable to hear the overall sound of people. The voices, laughs, gasps.

Suddenly and surprisingly, as if trained, your eyes locked onto a tall, lean, dark blue haired man walking in the opposite direction. It could’ve been because of his height or hair, but he stuck out of the dense crowd like a sore thumb. The stranger wasn't looking at you, rather ahead of himself, but you immediately scanned his profile. An unfamiliar feeling spread through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

The man carried himself with a certain kind of confidence, his steps calm and collected. He held his head high, looking forward as if staring at an invisible dot, walking towards an unknown destination. His eyes, although dark and hooded, were sharp and focused. The nose bridge of his created a slight shadow over the side of his handsome face.

Unexpectedly, as if sensing your eyes, the man looked back for a short second. Immediately, a familiar image of a teenage boy who exceeded in all training fields flashed before your eyes. Alas, before you knew it the man was taking a sharp turn and straying away from view.

The organ inside of your chest performed one incredibly hard beat, before going back to normal. Someone bumped your shoulder, apologizing right away and breaking the short-lived daze. For another moment, you stood motionless, looking in the direction of the other, the blue strands now long gone.

Shaking your head quickly and picking the pace up again, you tried processing what has just happened.

You'd see the man quite often after laying eyes on him for the first time. He even had a nickname. Blue.

Blue's fashion was quite predictable now, for the man seemed not to prefer colorful clothes. During the day, his wardrobe consisted of simple t-shirts, black jeans and occasional black leather jacket. One thing that changed almost daily though, was the bag that he'd carry. Nonetheless, Blue would always walk as nonchalantly and confidently as ever.

Each time you'd encounter him, the man would remind you of that certain boy. Weirdly enough, Blue never once looked back, no matter how many times or how close you'd pass by. No matter what though, you'd notice the same pair of sharp eyes peeking through thick blue bangs – a feature you very well remember.

The second thing that would have anyone's interest piqued, was that you'd see the man at the shooting field as well. On the days when you decided on visiting and practicing your (already impressive) aim, he would already be there. You'd watch from afar, the last couple of shots he'd take before turning around to leave. The male never once stayed any longer. Blue wouldn't even check on his hits - he'd shoot thrice and leave immediately.

A thing that many would fail to notice, would be the fast movement of his arms as he pushed the gun back into his rucksack.

Over time, you've realized that the number of encounters with Blue was too great for a stranger. The possibility of it not being an accident started bugging you. Eventually, it became worrying.

In the dead time of the night, while walking through forgotten alleyways no one really passes through, you'd see him. On rainy nights, while everyone else ran or hid away as to not get soaked, Blue would walk calmly.  

And maybe he had always been there, yet you simply never cared or gave it enough attention up until recently. Or maybe, it was something more serious.

His sight would often be locked onto his feet, hands shoved deep into jean pockets. During the night, Blue would wear all black, a mask and hood frequently covering up his face, yet the dark blue strands never failed to peek out. He'd also wear the same black worn out backpack, the one he never brought out in the daylight.

Although you've met and dealt with many different kinds of people, never once had someone managed to make you feel so curious but anxious at the same time. Neither of those feelings felt good.

Despite your initial pleasant surprise, Blue became someone who you disliked pretty fast. It bugged you how the two worlds happened to overlap at the most unconventional of times. Whether it was when you were spying on someone, following them or coming back to the base with blood on your hands, the man would make his appearance. You suddenly felt as if this stranger had a whole insight of your life and knew all of your secrets. As if he was aware of your job and worked as a spy whose target was you.

Feeling apprehensive was something you never expected to experience, especially while out of work. For the first time ever though, you thought about executing someone who you weren't ordered to take out.  

Thanks to instances such as those stated earlier, you've developed a side mission over time. As if in you were in a game and suddenly had to unlock another small part of the main story to progress. There was an undying need to find out if your suspicions were correct and what exactly was so off-putting, upsetting about this man (who seemingly did no real harm to you). And of course, if there was a way to fix it before jumping to the last, desperate solution.

Truthfully, you never got any thrill from the pure act of execution. Taking someone's life was as emotional as raw poetry, but those emotions were never felt by the heart, much less the brain. Sometimes you wondered what your thoughts on everything would've been if you hadn't changed so much.

Taking another deep breath, you grit your teeth and backed the scared man against a wall. With a knife held close to his Adam's apple, the man gulped and winced for the last time. Fat beads of sweat raced each other against his neck. There was no remorse for the other – neither him or the rest of his happy family.

You didn't hear the pleads and wishes of the victim, as the cotton gag filling his mouth prevented any noise from escaping. The thin blade sliced through skin and flesh in a delicate manner, effectively damaging his windpipe. The man gasped for air, but only coughed back blood. White cotton soon changed color. Watching the white material turning red didn't make you feel any different, just like the eyes of the man who struggled in pure agony.

Only when it looked like the blood was about to create a puddle on the ground, did you remove the cotton. The other gasped two, three more times, too exhausted and lightheaded to take any action. With much force, you pulled the body towards an open manhole and dumped it inside, listening to the way it heavily fell into the water.

That's what drug debt does to you.

Closing the manhole up, you stuffed the bloody cotton inside your coat and hid the knife inside of your boot. Taking off black gloves and mask, you pushed them beside the cotton and walked in the opposing direction than the one you came from.

The connected alleyways seemed to go on forever, but they were no unfamiliar place to you. To say that you used them often wasn't a lie, but there was rarely anyone else doing the same. Light steps echoed shortly; the fog that unusually filled the tight space became thicker as you delved deeper. Suddenly, there was yet another echo coming from the other direction. The person was seemingly walking towards you. Unconsciously, you prepared to reach down for the knife.

Through the fog you could faintly make out a silhouette of a man approaching. Every step you took allowed a clearer view of the other, and eventually the full sight of his figure. With an exaggerated eye roll and in pure disbelief, you silently cursed your absolute luck. It once again proved to be just who you expected.  

Blue walked with hurried steps, something you haven't seen before. Upon coming close enough to you, he looked up from the ground, pace slowing down and eyes meeting for the first time in a long while. Time seemed to slow down as well for both, one short moment extending to unexpected lengths.  

Both were dressed in similar, dark attire, carrying a fake expression of innocence. Yet, the moment their irises met, a certain feeling spread throughout their bodies, as if they quietly confirmed it wasn't a coincidence that they met here at this time.  

No words were exchanged, the moment finally ending as you passed by each other. There was a strong urge to look back after the other, but an inner voice whispered quietly, saying it was smarter not to do so. Not even when the man's steps promptly stopped echoing and you felt eyes on your back.  

A couple of steps later, you picked up on a sudden, but barely noticeable smell of human blood. For a moment, you were tricked into thinking it was the cotton or knife that were stuffed inside your coat. Still, the closer you got to a certain container leaning against a building wall, you realized it couldn't be it.

Once a foot away from the huge object, you stopped. The smell wasn't at all strong, but still noticeable enough. You didn’t want to interfere with whatever took place, but it didn’t take long to realize someone laid dead in there. In the end, it was the smell you were surrounded with pretty much daily.

Dots were beginning to connect slowly, but you were once again forced into moving. The feeling of being watched was making you feel uneasy, but this time you were tempted enough to turn around.  

There was no one standing where you expected them to. He was gone.

Sighing out loud, you turned around, took a quick left and finally walked out of the alleyway. There were almost no people on the streets, and the weird feeling was finally gone. The walk back to the base was just enough time to analyze all the different possibilities that unexpectedly plagued your mind.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that it happened so soon.  

A few rather peaceful days have passed since your last encounter with him. Time seemingly fled by, but unlike many other, these days were calm. The missions have come to a stale; therefore, you effectively used your free time to do chores and visit the market. In the end, the fridge wouldn't fill itself up.

The thin paper bag swung side to side as you walked. Cans and bottles made an unrecognizable but even melody as they clashed against each other. Lost in thought, you aimlessly walked forwards, enjoying the cool gust of wind hitting your face.  

But then, in the corner of an eye, you picked up on a man running towards you.

He was in his forties, a body of short, strong and somewhat fat build covered by a formal, grey suit. There was little to no hair in the middle of his head, while two thick patches spread on the sides. He wore a panicked expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all but screaming for help. It took him only a few seconds to reach you.

“Miss?” The man panted, immediately bending down to place his hands on his shaking knees. “Miss, I beg for your help”.

Glancing at his face again, you recognized the other as Mr. White - a man who has been barking against the government quite a lot recently. The propaganda he preached was slowly but surely gaining more supporters, and it suddenly clicked for you. This little rat probably had a sudden reason to feel unsafe and afraid of experiencing the same end as many others. What a shame he was brave only on the TV.

For a moment, you were hesitant, unsure if accepting to help was a right thing to do. Especially when such a person was in question. You waited a minute, while the other gathered his thoughts and managed to form coherent words. He must’ve sensed your reluctance, for not another second was wasted before he began explaining.

“I’m sorry, I feel exposed and like I’m being followed and...” Mr. White went on, blabbering something you only hummed along to, while scanning the surroundings. The park he came from wasn’t that crowded, unlike the last time you’ve passed by. There were only a few families playing with their kids and people walking their dogs.  

Nothing out of the ordinary, yet a certain man walking a tall Doberman managed to have you interested.

“...that hooded man...”

Lips moving to form a smirk, you almost patted yourself on the back for suspecting the right person. The stranger was rather tall, wearing black fitting jeans and an oversized cherry red hoodie. Despite it being warm outside, a big hood was pulled over his head, and his face was somewhat covered by a cap he wore underneath. A strong hand gripped the chain leash that held a dauntingly big, black Doberman on a trained distance, walking in a calm pace. The dog was huge, with ears pointed up and forwards, steps elegant but threatening. One could swear that it could rip a man’s head off with one bite.

“Why didn’t you take a taxi?” You asked back, cutting off the current ongoing speech.

“I tried... I tried calling for one but... none... none stopped, please help me... stay with me, wait with me” He practically begged, knees bent and hands pressing together as if praying. Passerby watched the scene unfold with surprised expressions, some even mocking the way the male behaved. Frowning at the current situation, you pulled the man up by his bicep, not in the mood for any unnecessary drama. He looked way too pathetic.  

Nodding as a reply, you started walking towards the pedestrian crossing not so far away. On the other side, at the designated spot, you’d be able to call for a taxi.

The whole time, you ordered Mr. White to walk in front - as if your smaller form would be any coverage for him. Despite not being strong, the wind was still powerful enough to carry the quiet echo of footsteps behind you. The person walked with the same pace, keeping suspicious distance.

Once at the traffic light, you stopped. The panicked politician didn’t dare move, his limbs stiff and frozen like a paused frame. At the given moment, you weren’t sure if the man was even breathing – his chest wasn’t at all moving. Unfortunately, the wait for the light to turn green was quite long. The steps that used to echo behind you came to a halt as the suspicious man finally caught up. It was then that you turned around to look at him – eyes meeting with a pair that held no emotion inside of them.

Blue looked even more handsome up close and in broad daylight. With fierce eyes and dominant aura, he seemed quite intimidating. While his facial features now resembled a grown man, they once again reminded you of that certain young boy. It was a sudden flash of clear memory, something you’ve only experienced while crossing paths the blue haired man.

Blue attentively caught onto your interested gaze, for his eyebrow rose and lips formed a smirk. Slowly, as if you were supposed to notice, he glanced behind at the motionless politician and then back at you, this time with a wider smirk. Such a bold move.

And of course, it shouldn’t have surprised you that it was him. Coincidence no more; your doubts were crumbling down like a house of cards thanks to the sudden stimuli.

The black dog watched you like prey, hungry eyes tracking every move. Thankfully, it was properly held in its place by the stronger man.

As soon as the light turned green, Blue took off, not sparing any more attention to neither of the two. The Doberman trailed in suit, walking graciously beside its owner, following the exact pace. You let him a few steps ahead, before crossing the street with Mr. White who seemed more relaxed now.

Paying the last bit of attention to the young man, your eyes unconsciously trailed down his leg. Immediately, you noticed the outline of a certain object that strained against the material of his fitting jeans. With a quick analysis, you recognized the weird shape – it was a knife.

That was it; exactly all the additional information you needed. The young boy grew up to be someone you now worked against.

Work, work, work. That’s all your mind was filled with for the past few weeks, and with a good reason. Being an undiscovered assassin often demanded immense amounts of creativity (which really proved to be hard when unmotivated) to avoid similarities between cases. Sometimes, you even had to choose the riskier and more public approach, much like today.

The current mission demanded a month-long preparation and as crazy as it might sound, obtaining explosive was the easiest part of it. You were lucky to have a couple of acquaintances who somehow had the exact stuff you needed, and at a great price as well.

For exactly four weeks, you’ve watched over a certain man, a tall, strong and well-known drug dealer called K. Besides actively selling all sorts of opium and illegal substances, the man led a powerful gang named The Vipers. You’ve never been hired by that gang, but you’ve heard a lot about them through numerous connections and accidental eavesdropping. Sometimes, you thought that assassins were the biggest threat to their employers, thanks to the amount of insider knowledge they pick up on over time.

The Vipers heavily depended on their leaders, brothers K and B. The older sibling, K, as the stronger leader, took most control over their big bites, while B did the other, sporadic and less serious work. Still, they cooperated perfectly, working in sync to create a big, illegal underground market, that the government never spoke about.

Unfortunately, they got themselves into a big fuss with another powerful gang, Weiro, the details never once directly explained to you. There were a couple of things that you could’ve suspected went down, but really, it wasn’t your job and interest. Anyhow, Weiro employed you, with a strict order to kill K in an extravagant way that will have his gang warned properly. Their request had your eyes rolling back; music wishes were never a favorite.

For a whole month, you studied the man, all of his whereabouts and paid attention to the people he interacted with from an unassuming distance. While K probably lived a very stressful and interesting life behind the closed doors of his hideouts and warehouses, his everyday ethics were pretty bland and easy to predict. Of course, you weren’t the one to complain, for it made your job easier.

During that time, you’ve also thought of an extravagant but careful enough way to finish the mission. Thankfully, creativity wasn’t a skill you lacked most of the time.  

The plan was simple when broken down. Every third day, at 4pm, K. drives from his home to The Vipers’ main warehouse. He takes the exact same route to reach that destination in the shortest period of time, driving either his black Porsche or B’s red Dodge. Both cars were one of a kind in the area. There are exactly 6 traffic lights he has to stop at before advancing to the highway and leaving the city. With some advanced work, you managed to interfere with them through a tiny device that was set up and connected to a phone. It still didn’t work at command (which you wish it did), but it bought some time by prolonging the red light.

Thankfully, your city had a wide chain of sewers that spread under every single street, numerous manholes leading in and out.  

The public town cameras positioned at almost every corner were connected to your phone as well, allowing a great view of the street you’ll be operating on – or underneath, for a better narration. Navigating through the sewers should be relatively easy, thanks to the map you’ve studied numerous times. After interrupting the traffic light, K’s car will (presumably) stop right above a manhole, through which you’d be able to set up a 30-second explosive. The car should explode a street away, killing K.

Surprisingly enough, the plan worked out perfectly. With hurried steps you’ve walked into one of the empty alleyways, immediately running towards an already open manhole. There was a bright yellow warning that indicated a hole in the ground – one that no one closed even after a whole year of the sign just standing there. Looking around for the last time, you slipped in, sprinting away the moment your feet touched the ground.

Steps echoed through the empty tunnel, contact with wet surface only creating loud splashing noises. Currently, the screen of your phone was split, half showing the camera display of the street and half exhibiting a blue button and a frozen counter. A few minutes of fast navigation through the sewers, you looked up, realizing the designated place was there. A quick look up granted proof that the plate was there. K was then taking a turn, only a few hundred meters away from you.  

With a quick and forceful tap of the blue circle, you watched the light turn red.

The powerful vehicle driving closer appeared even louder down there. When K stopped and the noisy engine came to a halt, the cameras were there to confirm his perfect position. Hurriedly, you climbed up, working the plate open with a miniature crowbar (that you carried in a backpack, along with the explosive). Then, with calculated and calm movements, the metal cover was carefully moved and the car was right there.

Huge amount of smoke entered through the opening, making you cough. Much like always, time was precious and there were only twenty more seconds. Skillfully, you securely tied the tiny bomb to the underside of K’s vehicle, closing the manhole up and setting the timer off immediately after.

The light turned green and the mighty engine roared for its last time.

Taking a clean jump down, you ran back the same way. Somewhere in the middle, you heard a huge bang, followed by strong vibrations of the ground. Smirking, you nodded in satisfaction because of yet another case well done.

Outside, on the main street, while many panicked about the car currently on fire and a dead man inside, the familiar blue-haired stranger watched with calm in his irises. He was leaned on one of the walls, laughing at the scared pedestrians and their clumsiness. Then, as if programmed, the moment you came out of the alleyway, he turned to face you.

Caught like a deer in headlights, you stopped in tracks. Blue smirked boldly, nodding slightly with a raised eyebrow – as if giving props for the finished job. Once again, an anxious feeling overtook your body, slight goosebumps appearing on soft skin. Gulping, you took a deep breath and walked right past, trying not to look intimidated by his sharp gaze.

Despite the familiarity you felt, Blue never once showed any signs of knowing who you once were or where you came from. Yet, it looked as if he knew exactly who you were and who you worked for currently, which was a worse situation to be in.

Once again, you aimlessly walked through lit up, bustling streets. Unnecessarily, you felt like a part of the normal community during these times. The chilly wind was somewhat relaxing against warm skin, serving as a distraction from overthinking. There were a thousand things that could go wrong every time, and thinking about them wouldn’t make anything easier. In the end, your skill and instincts never failed you, every move already memorized as muscle reflex.

About twenty minutes in, you caught onto a familiar person a few meters ahead. There was a small group of people separating the two of you, therefore they allowed short glimpses. Still, the tall, lean physique and dark blue hair that gleamed under the street light, gave their identity away. It was him.

The man’s posture was something you were already used to – relaxed, with steps long but calculated. His head was bent down lifting up for a second only, before falling down again. With the way his arms were positioned, you supposed the male held a phone or some sort of device in his hands.  Not daring to approach, you chose to follow his movements from a safe distance.  

A tall, strong man took a quick right turn into one of the side streets, effectively distancing away from the crowd. You wouldn’t have paid any special attention to him, if it weren’t for Blue’s gradual stop as well. Choosing not to blow the cover off, you continued with the same pace for a little while, ignoring the other as you passed right by. After about thirty more steps, you sat on one of the free benches that allowed a clear view of the blue haired man.

He stood on the same place, now leaning against one of the street lamps, phone still in hands. The device lit up Blue’s beautiful features, his stern eyes occasionally looking up and at the direction that man disappeared in. From his actions, you presumed he was the next target, and the assassin was only studying his behavior and roundabouts.

Although you couldn’t see, Blue watched the man enter one of the buildings, then waited for the lights on the 3rd floor to turn on and a window to be opened, much like always. When that happened, he pushed the phone into his jacket and turned around, happy with the final observation. You sneakily watched from afar, admiring the relaxation and carefreeness.

Then unexpectedly, Blue turned his head slowly, eyes meeting with yours. They found you so easily and that’s when you realized there was no cover to begin with. The uneasiness once again itched your skin. It was clear that he was aware of your positioning, hell, he probably even knew when you were behind him. The man’s eyebrow rose in an amused manner, before he looked the other way and walked away.

Something told you to go and follow.  

Taking careful and light steps between people, you tried to stay as low-key as possible, although the other probably expected – scratch that, knew – you were behind. His phone rang, an annoying ringtone interrupting the previous atmosphere. Blue picked up quick, talking quietly but laughing loudly at whatever the person on the other end said. Quickening the pace, you were able to get close enough to hear pieces of their conversation – unfortunately it wasn’t anything interesting, rather a casual talk between two friends. You suspected the man used this as a foolish cover.

Suddenly, he turned a corner, disappearing right behind. The phone call was still ongoing, his strong voice echoing through the alleyway for just a short period of time before getting lost in silence. You waited a couple of seconds before advancing.

It was your shadow that first made it around, but it made no effort of warning you about what’s to come. A silent scream left your lips, as the man you’ve been stalking for the past twenty minutes stood right ahead. His body was so incredibly close, minty breath fanning against your face. The corner of his lips formed a teasing smirk.  

“Hello, Red” He spoke, voice low, but with a pinch of playfulness in it. His big hand lifted up and reached behind your ear, taking a hold of a certain strand of hair. Noticing the expected color was no more, Blue frowned lightly. “Oh? It’s not red anymore?”

His act evidently surprised you, eyes wide open and lips parted slightly. The fact that he called you Red had only increased the bewilderment. A battle of foreign emotions started inside of your mind and chest. A foreign, bubbly feeling was fueled by pure hope that the other somehow remembered you, while the rational mind suspected the man’s real intentions and knowledge. In the end, Blue had never once interacted with you directly, how would he know about a hidden strand? Who did he hear it from?

“Hello, Blue” You replied, looking him right in the eyes and choosing to ignore his previous question. There was a slight tinge of dominance in your words, something that the other wasn’t quite expecting. “Nice to finally meet you”

“Haven’t you a long time ago, though?” He questioned, the smirk now turning into a light-hearted smile. Something about it had you wanting to wipe it off immediately. Nevertheless, his words once again had a double meaning. They echoed in your mind, replaying like a never-ending mantra. Technically, the two of you were no strangers, but what reason should you give him? Was it thanks to the faith that intertwined your paths or was it the history you’ve indirectly shared?

“Let’s just say I like to make things formal like this” The more you observed the man’s features, the more you grew intrigued. He was just so perfectly sculpted, and it made no sense that someone as breathtaking as him busied himself with such dirty work. Yet, God only knew what had forced the young boy to choose such a path.

“Well then, my name is Juyeon” Blue extended his hand for a handshake, once again showcasing just how big his hands were. Not bothering to take the gloves off, you accepted his greeting, somehow managing to feel the roughness of his palm over the black leather. A quick mutter of your own name was seemingly enough for Juyeon, for he hummed along and repeated it with the same tone. You didn’t miss the smooth flow of the vowels off his tongue.

Tranquility enveloped the small alleyway. Wind blew through it in strong waves, messing up your hair. Two frames stood just a step away, never once breaking eye contact, but prolonging the silence that swallowed every other sound. It was becoming awkward, yet neither knew how to bring up topics that obviously interested both.

“So, want to grab coffee, or?” Juyeon asked, breaking the suffocating atmosphere. His words served as a splash of cold water that brought you back into Reliaty, eyes averting their gaze for the first time. You watched a rat run from one trash can to the other, disappearing behind it in a matter of seconds.

“No, I actually have something more important to do” The truth was, you wanted to go with him out of pure curiosity, but a lot was holding you back. Even after imagining this exact moment a thousand times, you weren’t sure you were ready for it. Apart from that, there was yet another more impulsive reason for the refusal. You’ve been taught that everyone was an enemy when looked at from the right angle, especially in this job. Therefore, you were to deny as a precaution to not allow just anyone to use any information against you.

And what’s the most unfortunate was that Juyeon wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly your type. Which meant that he was both the most dangerous and safest of them all. The worst combination.

“But less important than following me for about...” The male looked down at his watch, an expensive device tightly secured around his wrist, “20 minutes?”. Blue's expression was one of curiosity, probably anticipating the reply to his remark.

“I had time to kill” It wasn’t at all believable, but the other let it slide with a slight chuckle. He glanced at you with an amused look, before speaking.

“Kill huh? Working so late?” Juyeon teased, the chuckle from before now growing into an audible laugh. Truthfully, this exact reply had caught you off guard pretty well and the silence that suddenly spread was a solid proof of it. Fortunately, though, the other allowed time to think of an answer properly, all while having the cheekiest smile spread on his lips.

“Why so surprised? Weren’t you doing the same a little while ago?” Juyeon nodded at your question, shoulders shrugging fast as if to nonchalantly approve of it. You were quite surprised with his quick confirmation that didn’t hold a pinch of hesitance. It felt as if he was perfectly fine with verifying all of your suspicious and letting you know about the trivial things. Logically speaking, it was only fair, considering how much he apparently knew about you.

“Well then... I can’t do anything about your time” Tsking to show fake disappointment, the male pushed his hands into tight jean pockets and gazed down. It was surprising that he wasn’t pushing the proposal, rather accepting the denial. For whichever reason, your pride accepted a decent hit. With one foot, he carelessly kicked a rock on the ground with a heel, making something underneath his shoe cling. The sound didn’t go unnoticed.

“I guess I’ll see you around then” Juyeon added, before turning in the other direction and slipping away. Before you could react, the man was already ten steps ahead, carrying himself in the same relaxed fashion as before. His steps echoed, the soles of his shoes way too hard on the ground. Upon a quick accidental look, you noticed a piece of shiny metal on his heels, reflecting off the light that happened to hit them directly. Huffing was your only reaction to it.

The whole way back, your thoughts were a hectic mess, one that couldn’t be calmed down, for they always wandered towards the blue haired assassin.

You never really liked warehouses, for they were way too open. Thankfully though, the one you were working in today wasn’t empty – crates and boxes filled with unknown substances and materials were scattered all around, as well as machinery that’s used to move them around. Overall, all of those objects allowed much cover and plenty of room to comfortably work around the broad place. Moreover, your steps weren’t going to echo too much in such a setting.

Today’s target was a man named Captain Lee, a case similar to about a hundred others previously assigned – work with government officials. You never cared how many people did what, but you supposed the most died because they hadn't paid their part of the deal or smuggled with the government. Either way, they happened often and you will never run out of work just because of that.  

Hidden and on a great distance, you watched Lee and another man (assumed government official) enter the warehouse. Unfortunately, both had a generous number of bodyguards, but luckily, none were allowed inside. The huge door was the only easy entrance option, but since that would immediately ruin the mission, you decided to infiltrate some other way. Working fast and precise, you climbed up set of drainpipes and entered through an open window on the roof. Done in less than three minutes – record time. Dropping down was a more challenging move, but nothing too bad, for you entered far enough from the two men to remain unnoticed.

Your shoes that were two sizes bigger, proved to be a bigger hassle today than ever before. The metal railing was very hard to move over without making any unnecessary sound. The mask on your face helped you breathe properly, the air being way too stale for anyone’s liking. Thankfully, there were no major light sources that would interfere with your cover. Full black attire matched perfectly with the semi-dark surroundings.  

The voices of the two males weren’t loud, but in an empty space like this, the echo was immense. It helped you navigate around or between the crates and gigantic shelves in the most accurate manner. The pistol in your hand was already equipped with a silencer, your hand reaching up to stabilize it for the last time. Slowly, you sneaked closer, back pressed against a set of boxes.

Then, unpredictably, something moved in the corner of your eye.

Stopping dead in tracks, your full attention moved to the staircase not so far away. It was protected by one of the huge machines – those you supposed organized all of these crates. Your mind promptly wandered off to the worst scenario – it must’ve been a guard you failed to notice. Gripping the pistol with more force, you aimed at the suspicious area, holding the bullet in, but ready to fire if needed.

Despite the darkness, you noticed a puff of blue hair. Lowering the gun with an inaudible sigh, your eyes rolled back, jaw clenching in frustration. The boy peeked out carefully, irises finding yours in an instant. He nodded in your direction, hand moving slightly in a low wave.  

Looks like the day has come when the two sides get to work together.

Juyeon seemed to realize that as well, for he moved closer to the edge of his cover, evidently willing to make a plan of action. For a moment, ego and pride made you think about ditching the offer, why would you ever need help? But on a second thought, he would definitely make everything easier, and who in their right mind would deny that? Shuffling closer, you accepted the silent proposal with a nod.

Although far away, the two succeeded in communicating through short signals, functionally organizing a proper scheme. You’ve got to know the male was equipped with a knife only – which really didn’t make things easier, but it was possible to work around it.

Juyeon got moving quick after ending the discussion, making his way around the warehouse. You watched his steps until he disappeared, readying yourself to fire at Lee and disappear if anything goes wrong. In the end, you weren’t going to risk getting caught because of someone else’s mistake all while already being so close to completing your part of the job.

Once in position, the other assassin threw a coin in another direction, the tiny object immediately serving as a distraction. Exactly then, both of you jumped out of cover, not giving the two men any reaction time before It was too late.

Juyeon grabbed the official from the back and covered his mouth with one hand, the other coming up to slit his throat, while you fired two rounds at Lee’s head. The pistol, although suppressed, made two sets of noises that still sounded through the warehouses.

Experienced, you knew that if the bodyguards had trained ears, they’d pick up on the sound. Therefore, in a hurry and with a wish to get out of there asap, you grabbed Juyeon’s unoccupied hand and took off running. Hurried steps probably made more sound than the shots you were worried about, but thankfully there was still no one that could hear them.

Juyeon diligently followed behind, holding onto the thin blade and occasionally looking back at the entrance door. Fortunately, both of you were able to reach the exit in a matter of few minutes. Just a moment before slipping out, he picked up on a glimpse of two bulky silhouettes entering the warehouse. Pay people to protect you, only to be murdered without witnesses. Bodyguards my ass, Juyeon thought.

Neither spoke until far away from the mission location. Walking through the woods, both tried making as little noise as possible, gripping their weapons tight just in case there was any more danger. In the natural setting, black clothes greatly contrasted the greens, yellows and browns. Nonetheless, the two figures silently walked through with determination.

Only when in complete clear, did the both stuff their weapons inside their attire, taking the hoods and masks off before anyone could notice. More relaxed and less covered up, you’d look like a normal couple taking a walk in the nature. The road you took led towards the center of the city, but it was a long, long walk.  

After scanning your emotionless face for a few minutes, Juyeon was the first to break the silence.

“Don’t you feel the smallest bit of remorse? He had a sick wife and year-old twins waiting for him at home” The question was a pure shocker. Instantly stopping in place, you looked the other in the eye with the most baffled expression. Out of everything he could’ve asked, that’s what he chose to say? Was he judging you? Was he expecting you to actually care?  

You weren't sure where he was coming from.

“Excuse me? Do you? Are you any better than I am?” You bit back, hoping the pure annoyance that dripped from your words reached the other. Juyeon’s face didn’t change at all though, it remained blank, as if your passive attack hadn’t even touched him. As if you were getting worked up for no reason.

“He didn’t have a family; I don’t sign such things; therefore, I don’t feel that way” The male replied, in a matter of fact tone. His attention wasn’t on you, but an invisible dot in the distance, somewhere between all of the trees and bushes. Still, he could clearly feel you looking at him with a suspicious expression.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes. I have a choice and I choose not to do it, simple as that. Not everyone works for the same people and has the same goals as you”

You wondered how can someone make your blood boil in such a short period of time. Much like you, Juyeon trained for years; it was a fact that he had no empathy for any of his victims – such thing was inevitable. Every assassin in training had to go through the desensitization program, and no one was different than the other when it came to feelings of this kind. So, what exactly was he trying to do with his questions?

Why did it matter if you cared or not? Why did it matter if someone had a family or not? What was the difference? Just because he worked for ‘the good guys’, he got to be the morally right one? What even was it they fought for? Peace, order, harmony in the community as a whole? Or satisfaction, more power of the hungry ones on top by murdering individuals? You had to laugh.

All these years of work and you’ve never once stopped to think about someone’s family or friends, for it simply wouldn’t have changed anything about the final decision. “No hard feelings” was one of the few rules of the whole ordeal. Killing people was your job, the execution of someone didn’t have anything to do with their sick wives or young children.  

You stepped forward, pressing a finger into Juyeon’s chest.

“Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

At this point, you were fuming, jaw clenched and eyes boring holes into the other’s forehead. Although your voice was hushed, it was quite authoritative. The boiling blood that flowed through veins quick only fueled your irritated brain. Truthfully, the boy did feel slightly intimidated, but more so intrigued.

“Get your head out of that utopia mindset. “Oh I’m killing because that helps keep our community peaceful”, no! You’re killing to make the rats on the top happy and get paid a fortune! You’re taking a life whoever you’re working for. It does not matter if they have ten starving children, or a sugar baby waiting for them at home. There’s a reason they should be dead and you’re not the one to question it! Much less using family as an argument! That’s pointless!”

Juyeon didn’t try and oppose your thoughts, only watched your annoyed being work itself up with every sentence spoken. The smirk on his lips slowly grew wider, eventually turning into an honest smile. Although not in ideal conditions, you managed to captivate him so much, and the man wanted to know and hear more from you, even if that meant you had to yell at his reasoning.

It was interesting how the tables have turned though. Juyeon suddenly wanted to continue observing and listening to you, admire this smaller being that held so much power and determination. It was only now that the male realized the appeal of doing so, after so many years of wondering just what had you looking at him from a distance for so long. The two of you were so different now, despite being so similar back then. Yet the one thing that hadn't changed, was the beauty of the young girl that had evidently followed her into adulthood.

He’d hardly admit it, but he was glad that faith had done its job at setting the two of you up again.

Thanks to your state, the next fifteen minutes went by without any more words. Juyeon kept a safe distance, a couple of steps behind you, unsure of what to do. The tension was beginning to make him uncomfortable. At one point, the thin blade placed inside of his hoodie moved, and the boy let out a fast yelp. The knife managed to shift in such a way that fortunately didn’t harm, but warned the other of its position.

Juyeon crouched down and pushed one arm underneath his hoodie, moving the weapon and trying to push it deeper into the hidden fluffy pocket. For whatever reason, worried about the lack of presence behind, you turned around and noticed the man crouching down, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Approaching out of pure curiosity, you lowered to be on eye level – not quite expecting Blue’s next move. Just to break the unbearable tension, he thought.

With a quick grasp of your arm, Juyeon pulled you towards him, falling back into the soft grass. The two figures fell down, one of which was smirking wide with hooded eyes and the other wore an astonished expression.

“You see Red, you’re some type of enemy for the regime as well, working for sketchy people and killing unnoticed... Be more careful, otherwise I can make some money off you too” The boy joked, voice calm but low. His sudden change of demeanor had you pleasantly surprised and without much thought, you joined in on the play. Situated on top of him, you lowered yourself down, just a few inches away from his face.

“Oh, you can, but you won’t” You replied back, a smirk of your own bidding its hello.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Juyeon answered, suddenly pressing something sharp against your stomach. In any other instance, the action would have immediately set off your self-defense mechanism, but right now, the man was allowed to have his harmless fun. Somehow, you felt the other wasn’t a threat, and your senses never lied to you.

“Because it’s against your morals, pretty boy. You wouldn’t dare. You kill only when ordered and I highly doubt I was ever on your list” With that, you managed to take home a doubtless checkmate. The man tried ignoring the way you called him for the second time that day. Slowly but surely, you took a hold of Juyeon’s big hand that held the weapon and moved it away to a much safer distance. The other let you, without any protest or fight back.

“Plus... I don’t think I’m working against you; I don’t touch anyone else but the bad guys, remember?”

At such close proximity, it was possible to predict what were the thoughts of both. Unexpectedly though, beside a moment-driven need to press your lips together, there was a hidden feeling of understanding and content. Both remained in the exact position for a little while, breathing the same air and enjoying this unique situation.

Without any special reason, you lifted up and touched Juyeon's nose with a soft finger. The act changed the atmosphere quick and caused both to giggle, pleasantly surprised to experience it recklessly Mindfully, you then hoisted yourself up and off the boy, helping him get on his feet as well.

An imperceptible crack formed inside of your soul, something that was just a beginning of a storm.

The next two weeks passed by without any encounters. You took time off to regain energy before moving onto the next scheduled and fixed mission, while Juyeon busied himself with the usual, easy executions. He’d run around the city, hang about in underground passages throughout the day and sneak through alleyways during the night. His victims weren’t big bites at all, for he had gotten used to simple cases of unprotected individuals.  

Juyeon has always been covered by the government, which was to be expected since he did work for them. Every single life the assassin had taken, was never recorded in his dossier, for it remained as clean as ever. The cases he and a few other colleagues worked on were never investigated properly, always thrown under the mat or closed by the court after a few days. It often happened that innocent people were forced to take blame, just so the families of victims felt ‘content’ and ‘justice’ - despite it being far away from that.

The boy had a proper reason for why he chose the path of paid assassination. It's not rare to hear that people who’re born in a violent environment grow up to be violent as well – and unfortunately that was exactly what happened to the blue haired assassin.

Juyeon was only seven when he had lost a dear parent. On an unfortunate night, his father had come home shitface drunk and proceeded to beat up his mother. It was sad to say, but the boy, as well as his younger brother, were used to violence, as it occurred almost daily. Their mother would always usher the two youngsters into their rooms, before she strongly took all of the anger of the older so her kids wouldn’t have to. The man had rarely ever come home sober, and the number of times they listened to the pitiful gasps and cries downstairs was way too great to count.

Still, one night, Juyeon noticed his mother laying on the ground in a pool of red liquid and her mouth parted with eyes fixed on an invisible dot. The father, enraged and unable to process the situation properly, lunged towards him. With extreme amount of luck, Juyeon managed to shield his younger brother for a second, immediately grabbing him by the hand and running out into the open.

Even so young, Juyeon was aware of everything. Raindrops fell in an even, calm rhythm on the pavement while the sky flashed every now and then. He ran almost barefoot, the socks on his feet soaked by the wet pavement. All the time, he held tight onto the younger’s hand, encouraging him to continue running despite everything else. The teddybear his brother carried was dragged along the ground, plastic nose creating a strange noise over asphalt ground.

It took a long time until they were able to find someone on the streets in such weather. One young and reliable looking woman stood under a shop shade, seemingly waiting for the pour to stop. Mindfully though, she ran out of cover to help the same moment they came into view. The woman was shocked and distressed, listening to the heartbreaking story of two young souls who spoke through never-ending tears, their voices breaking with every sob.

Juyeon and his brother were taken into custody quick, and their father was arrested in a matter of one day. Sadly, the siblings were soon separated, both going into different families due to unknown circumstances. They never saw each other again.

Juyeon grew up into a teenager with a never dying urge to get revenge on his father. The picture of his mother lying dead on the ground replayed behind his eyelids every time they closed, it only fueling the hidden fury. He couldn’t fall asleep easily and when it somehow happened, he wouldn’t sleep for long as the image would haunt his young mind even then. Juyeon was unwillingly updated on the state of his father, who he visited not even once.

Either way, Juyeon silently plotted how to get back on the remaining parent, not letting anyone know anything about those plans – which fell apart in the end. The elder died in prison two years later – cause unknown. Juyeon hadn’t bothered to go to the funeral.

The teen ended up without a revenge, nor the justice he thought his mother deserved. Juyeon turned towards bad habits and streets fights, often falling victim to toxic relationships. Everything he did was to ease off the horrible feeling of guilt and anger he simultaneously felt. Secretly, everyone feared him, his sharp words and skills, despite the boy never doing any intentional harm to others without a proper reason. The fights Juyeon got into were only when he felt immoraly wronged, or when someone really pissed him off.  

Eventually, the boy was introduced to the job he’d later become a professional at. Young Juyeon thoroughly thought this tough decision over many times, especially when standing before the big, bossy man who immediately offered him a contract. The older said that people like him tend to be perfect for the job, particularly when driven by a certain emotion – something that would drive them on. At first, Juyeon wasn’t sure where he would end up with a “degree” in assassination, therefore hesitance was a reasonable reaction.  

Sly as a fox though, the boss used unfortunate history against the rookie. Juyeon was told that if he did well enough, there’s a chance he’d be accepted into the government guard – and it fought for justice and peace.  

It was surprising how kids of different backgrounds happen to receive the same treatment and training, only to end up on different places again. One could think that since everyone experienced identical programs, they were meant to work together – when it was the exact opposite. The minor differences in performance and work ethics that could easily be overlooked, were the ones that labeled you a certain position. And unfortunately, it often depended on just what kind of person they turned you into.

Juyeon thought about his time there often. Short pieces of memory flying by and disappearing in an instant. The six years he spent watching different clips of torture and learning how to flawlessly execute a silent murder. All the days his mobility was challenged – running the same course, climbing different heights and crawling through miniature gaps while carrying different weapons.

He thought about all the different people there, all of the kids that he watched get beat up and heard scream – many of those giving up after only days of training.  

But she never did.

The little girl that always observed his practices and paid attention to his every move, as if she was trying to remember them as well. He remembered the younger taking everything thrown at her like a complete champion, determination and will for success written over her face in bold letters. Juyeon always wondered just what it was that made her so persistent.

Shivers ran down his spine as the face of the little girl in his head took on familiar lines. They formed a mature and stoic, yet beautiful as ever face. Juyeon sighed loudly, still not processing the fact that faith made it be so their paths crossed again.

How exactly the two of you managed to find each other so fast in a club full of people, was unexplainable. It could’ve been a sixth sense that you’ve developed, for the two pairs of eyes immediately locked the moment you walked in. Thanks to previous experiences and an uninteresting game of guessing, you’ve come to the realization that once again, the playing field was same for both.

Slowly creeping up to the man, you threw your hands around his neck, attempting to dance to whatever song the DJ was remixing. It was an easy way to get blended into the crowd and communicate with the other without raising suspicion. Flashing colorful lights along with the excessive amount of fake mist and sweaty people once again reminded of the reason why you didn’t like clubs. But alas, work had to be done.  

Juyeon had caught onto your plan, but the smirk and hooded eyes clearly showed that he was quite amused with your boldness. Carefully, his big hands creeped up to your hips, bringing close to his and swaying them to the beat of the song. With a gasp of surprise, you giggled, turning around in Juyeon’s hold, back pressed flush against his strong chest. The male’s head moved closer, lips lingering just above your ear. Out of pure curiosity, with a swift move, your ass ground against Juyeon’s crotch, eliciting the sweetest gasp in return. Before any remark could be made, you glanced back, speaking in such a volume that no one else heard.

“Who is it tonight?”  

“One of the sisters, Yuri” Juyeon replied, voice low and rough, soft lips finally touching your ear. The grip on your hips tightened, as a precaution to not dare pull the same trick twice. Although the colorful tints of flashing lights turned the whole room into hectic mess, Juyeon was thankful for it hid the flush that unknowingly overtook his features.

“Oh, how exciting!” You replied in a sarcastic tone. “I’m here because of Aria!” The answer received a hum of understanding in return.  

The two sisters, Aria and Yuri, while not the most influential on the streets, had managed to get themselves involved in quite a few problems with the big ones, for a short period of time. To know that the fall of both happened due to one’s mistakes was slightly disappointing. It was one of those rare cases you were disclosed all details, and simply put, it had your eyes rolling back. Everything could’ve been easily sorted out.

Despite being twins, they were complete opposites. Aria was always the calm, calculated and careful sibling, while Yuri ran around, causing problems, concerning herself with illegal jobs and getting away with it thanks to her connections. Those associates often asked for something in return, and more often than not, it was someone with some type of political power. You guessed that’s why Juyeon was here tonight. Can’t say it wasn’t to be expected.

Aria, although the more mature twin, got dragged into everything thanks to Yuri. Surprisingly enough, she managed to find a place in the community fast. At first, Aria often did the dirty and hard work of finding new druggie customers for her bosses. Eventually, she progressed and ranked up significantly (no one really knows how she did it so fast), finally allowed to deal crack and heroine by herself – while of course having to pay a percentage back to the leader. The semi-autonomy was there in theory.  

It all went smooth and well until Yuri found out. To her irrational brain, it only meant free shots of fun every time she needed it. Therefore, like a fool, Yuri started using the drugs her sister had to sell, without giving a coin back. Whatever the reason was, Aria let her.

Debt happened fast, as Aria couldn’t pay back enough money, nor make up a good enough excuse as to where the drugs went. The siblings tried prolonging their (Aria’s) payment date and buying just a tad bit more time to get everything sorted out. Empty promises were spoken through disposable phones as Aria pledged the money will be ready soon.  

And as if they were suddenly blind and deaf to the fact of being in debt, the sisters decided to open a nightclub. Apparently, the earnings (they hoped would happen fast) would be used to pay back thousands of dollars they owed.

Unfortunately, being too hopeful was never a good thing. And that’s why you were there on the exact day of the grand opening.

“Well then, can I ask you to be my partner in crime, Miss?” Juyeon whispered, nudging your temple with his nose. Although in the mood to play with the other for a little while longer, you had to get to work first. Once again turning in his hold, you nodded and began bopping along to the new beat that vibrated off the walls. With foreheads pressed together, you tried ignoring Juyeon’ sharp gaze and focusing on discussing a plan of action.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

It was unusually easy to get inside of the security room, turn the cameras off and delete all footage of the current night. With a bit of secretive work, two assassins found a blueprint of the whole floor, familiarizing themselves with all important points of the nightclub – first and foremost the security room. Immediately, both got to work.

Thanks to your moderately revealing outfit and Oscar-worthy acting (no sarcasm intended), you worked as a distraction in the first part of the plan. Accidentally walking into a male bathroom, you managed to gain attention of drunk and drugged men. As expected, they followed out like hungry dogs.  

In the meantime, Juyeon slipped in and out of the bathroom through an open window. The drain pipes, weird infrastructure and façade of the whole building, allowed him to make his way around and towards the security room. The window was barely open, but with a bit of force, it was lifted up higher and Juyeon jumped in without much sound.  

With quick work of skilled fingers, the footage was deleted and all cameras were disabled for the night. Following the same path, the male left, making sure to lower the window into its previous position before returning to the bathroom. Luckily, your charm and flirty words worked well enough to keep other men outside the room until Juyeon came back.

He felt wronged seeing everyone looking you up and down as if you were some type of provocative art piece, hoping to get a feeling with their nasty fingers. Immediately, Juyeon approached the little group and wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder, leading you away. Sounds of disapproval were heard from the rest, but neither paid no mind, already focused on the next piece of the plan.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Keeping up the cover often required creative and interesting measures. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet never once have you made out with someone in public because of it.

At one point of the night, while progressing towards the next point, you’ve noticed a couple of guards paying a little bit more attention than usual. The amount of security surrounding one piece of the corridor was enough information to understand that the sisters (or at least one of them) were in one of those rooms. Trying to play drunk and drugged was so far the best shot at being left alone, but it seemingly didn’t work this time, as one bulky man walked towards you. The sound of his voice was almost silenced by the deafening music playing in the background.

“I’m sorry this is a-”  

Suddenly, Juyeon pushed you against a wall. Big hands cupped your face, holding it so delicately, carefully, as if you were a rose made out of glass. Yet, his lips moved against yours with a hungry and lustful feeling, only breaking apart to catch a breath before continuing where interrupted. One of his hands trailed lower, hitching one of your thighs over his hips, earning a rather surprised and breathless gasp in return. Unfortunately, the guard wasn’t willing to cooperate.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave this area” He yelled, voice unexpectedly high for a man his built. Juyeon chose to ignore the other, kisses now trailing underneath your jaw and over the tender skin of your neck, nipping but not strong enough to leave any marks.

Growing impatient and with an obvious pressure from his colleagues that bore holes into his back, the guard grabbed and  Juyeon’s bicep, effectively breaking the two apart. It took all of Juyeon’s mind strength not to turn around and break the man’s arm – that much was obvious from the sudden fire in his eyes.

“Leave” The bigger said, pointing back towards the direction you’ve came from. With glassy and hooded eyes, you watched the intimidating man, giving him a wide, forced smile. Pointing between the two guys, you started laughing, occasionally looking away and trying to suppress more giggles from spilling out. Juyeon caught onto the tactic and followed it, his shoulders rising and falling in a fast rhythm.

“I’m sorry~ we’ll goooo” Not wanting to create any unnecessary drama, you grasped Juyeon’s hand, leading the way while fake stumbling and force laughing the whole time. The male tried supporting you, and for a more authentic look, his own steps shortened and uneven.

“Drunk kids... I can’t bel..” Was all you’ve heard from the guard, before his voice blended in and disappeared in great noise that was an EDM beat.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Around one in the morning, when the night was reaching its peak, the two targets came out of their room. Despite other distractions, Juyeon and you spectated from a safe distance, dancing against each other for the nth time that night. As per usual, Yuri appeared high and out of her mind, while Aria dragged her towards a small terrace that overlooked the dance floor. There was a guard that followed behind.

“I guess it’s true that they’re giving a speech tonight... how eventful” With a sarcastic tone, Juyeon whispered in your ear. You looked up towards the terrace and hummed along to signal his words have been heard.

“There’s only one guard following, there must be more up there” He continued, head dipping low and lips caressing the exposed skin of your neck. Following the beat of the song, Juyeon moved one of his legs between yours, interested to see the reaction he’d get. His bold touches and moves intensified the unusual tension and sudden heat you already felt. The mission had to be done fast, since you weren’t sure how much more of this new, pleasurable torture you could take. Both were being pretty unprofessional, evidently forgetting about their main focus at times.This wasn’t at all like either of them.

“Taking them out up there is too risky anyway” You began, leaning your head back into the juncture of Juyeon’s shoulder, before speaking again, this time with a more teasing tone “Can’t guarantee that my idea is safe either, though. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Oh woah, don’t get too cocky on me now, baby” Blue replied, smirking when your head shot up to look him in the eyes. It faded fast, an eyebrow raising in a questionable manner, as if his words weren’t special and deserving of such a reaction. “Tell me. I get to hear the offer first before taking it, right?”

“You’re acting way too unprofessional. We’re here with a reason” You whined, suddenly wanting to distance away from the other, but a tight hold on your hips didn’t allow that.

“Me? Unprofessional? Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t the one grinding down on my thigh” Juyeon bit back with a generous amount of confidence, the one that people carried themselves with when they were aware of being right. The colorful lights hid the immediate flush that overtook your features. A quick look to the right proved the man that his words definitely had an effect.  

“So? Are you going to tell me or let a chance slip away?”

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Aria and Yuri laid dead inside a big closet, their necks snapped and heads hanging in an unnatural way. Juyeon and you once again happened to be the most compatible teammates, getting the job done and leaving the club before anyone suspected a thing.  

The time between leaving and present passed by in a blur and way too fast. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe it was just the power of Juyeon’s soft touches and hungry kisses that made you forget all about it.

Currently pressed against a cold brick wall a few streets away from the nightclub, you enjoyed the attention the man was offering. It all felt unusual and new, but not in a bad way. The wall temperature greatly contrasted the one of the body pressed against you, creating an unusual but pleasant combination. Juyeon’s lips rarely stayed on yours, often wandering down to your jaw and juncture of shoulder. This time though, he didn’t care about the marks, pink bruises now decorating the expanse of your neck. With hands in his dark blue strands, you pulled Juyeon closer, moving in just the right ways to allow more access to the soft and undamaged skin.

It wasn’t clear why both assassins gave in to the sudden want for each other. There were no evident emotions to back up their actions, just a strong need that had to be fulfilled with no one else but the other. Some could suppose it was the consequence of their blunt actions from before, while others may argue that it was something much more meaningful. A relatively new, exciting state of mind and experience that obviously didn’t have to happen, yet it did. A slipup so to say - or at least both hoped that it was.

“How can you be this hot after just murdering someone?” The man asked breathlessly, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips that formed a slight smile. His sharp eyes looked at yours with a new kind of emotion, something you weren’t able to pinpoint just yet. Juyeon’s deep but quick breaths matched yours, both trying to take in as much air as possible in a short period of time.

“What can I say, I’m a natural at keeping people around my finger” You raised a pinky up, playing along, voice low and seductive. Truly, there were missions that required acting flirty and playing dirty, therefore your charm has developed quite a lot. Still, what you tried implicating at was the situation from earlier that night, when all those men gathered around you. There was no reason to expect a reaction from the other. Juyeon’s expression quickly changed into something that resembled a frown, but it disappeared just as fast, not allowing any time to make any remarks about it.

Suddenly, the thigh that was once again positioned between your legs flexed, making you flinch and unwillingly whine. The man smirked, closing in the distance again, but not enough for yet another kiss.

“Should I be scared to become one of those people, then?” He whispered, irises playing between your eyes and lips that were just a breath away. The intimate proximity that went on for way too long happened to have a negative effect on you. Gradually, a pinch of doubt and hesitance began clouding your mind, scolding it for being too carefree next to the other. They reminded of just who the man was, and that the game currently played was a dangerous one. Without much thought, like a reflex, your hand moved quick, retrieving a pocket knife and pointing the tip at Juyeon’s barely covered stomach.

A gasp of sincere shock left the man’s lips, eyes opening wide, as he scanned your face. With an indifferent voice, but a slightly different mind, you spoke.

“I don’t know, should you?”

It was impressive to see how much effect people had on each other. Despite being busy with constant planning and thinking, there was always space in both heads to think about each other. Occasional pondering about his lips on hers, or her hands in his hair – all intensifying the anticipation for the next time.

Juyeon often found himself rushing missions because he knew the female wasn’t busy at the moment. Whenever passing by the familiar building and a certain room had even the slightest bit of light in it, the boy would invite himself over. It appeared that Juyeon risked much more than the other, and definitely much more than he should’ve.

Just out of pure skepticism that underlined every action, you never directly planned any of the meetings, rather letting the other barge in or set time and date. It was easy to catch onto his habits and when to expect a knock at your entrance door. For added security, weapons were kept in secretive places for quick use if the man ever decided to turn on you. And although fighting a never-ending battle inside of your mind, you grew to anticipate the hidden meetings. His kisses were spreading fire throughout your body, words messing with your mind and touches offering pure euphoria.

There were occasions when the two of you would meet at the rooftop, one always back from a mission while the other waited patiently. Sometimes, Juyeon’s hands still dripped fresh blood, the male not willing to waste any time on cleaning them before rushing towards you. It was a special feeling knowing that the fingers that used to do such horrifying things caressed your skin so delicately.

Slowly but surely, some type of understanding was established between the two. Then, the whole relationship wasn’t purely based on physical connection, and it meant much more than a way to satisfy hormonal human needs. Periodic talks about present worries and bothers, as well as thoughts on current events, allowed them to get to know each other better. Alas, the connection never reached its highest level, as numerous obstacles stopped them from reaching it – biggest being the female's constant hesitation.

Objectively speaking, Juyeon let himself open much more than the other did, always easy on bringing up topics to discuss about and contemplate on. He also shared much more information about himself, many of them being trivial and harmless things, but still something you stoically held back on. Of course, that didn’t mean you were silent during two-way conversations, just pickier about what you wanted to share.

Juyeon understood that, and he appreciated everything you’ve told him. That compassion was the foundation that will slowly build a more trusting and open relationship in the future. You valued his way of acting, enjoying harmless discussions and gradually getting used to having a companion who became a part of your almost daily life.

With a little bit of effort from both sides, everything was going to work, or at least you hoped. You encouraged every passing meeting, every second together, to hit the wall of reluctance with as much force as possible – still, unfortunately, it stood strong.

Blue and Red created purple during their nights together, merging with the beautiful melody of the storm that only grew bigger the closer it got.

Thanks to the impeccable weather, it was slightly challenging to get to the roof this time. However, with master level acting, fake politeness and a little bit of luck, you were able to avoid suspicion from the residents you passed by. Most definitely, and fortunately, not a single soul knew that there was a sniper rifle packed in a rather sizeable guitar bag you carried. Along with its components such as silencer, optical sight, bipod, additional ammunition...

Once on top of the building, you immediately unpacked the bag’s contents. First of was an expensive, albeit small door jammer that was installed straight away, effectively sealing the entrance you just walked through. Trying it a couple of times just to make sure, you deemed it impossible to open. Next was the sniper.

Having done such a thing countless times before, it didn’t take you long to properly set and load the weapon with a set of new bullets. The fresh smell of metal filled the small space around. Hiding behind a pile of rubbish, you set the bipod behind the cornice, muzzle and barrel pointing towards the road your target was supposed to appear on soon.  

Then, like a lightning, you immediately withdrew back, sniper pulled way behind and body pressing flush against the ground. There was a sudden feeling of being noticed and even watched, to which you were always quick to react. Keeping low for as long as time allowed, you dismounted the bipod as it only made advancing more difficult. Slowly but surely, you moved around, setting everything up on another corner with tall plants and flowers. The aim wasn’t as clear as before, but it wasn’t too big of a problem. Yet, despite the natural cover doing its job relatively well, the dangerous feeling was still present.

Taking a quick risk, you took off the current optical sight and mounted another, angled one, that allowed you to look around without being too exposed. Since you were on the 11th floor, on the tallest building in the area, there was no way someone could’ve noticed you from the roads down below. Glancing over them quickly just to make sure, the theory was deemed correct – no pedestrians had their heads raised up and looking in this exact direction.

Looking at the sky, you searched for drones or any other objects that could be supervising the area (as that unfortunately, did happen before and they had to be destroyed manually, via a gun). Thankfully, there were none, but instead of making you feel relieved, it only intensified the anxiety previously felt. Where was it coming from?

All you needed to get the desired answer, was an accidental glance over the roof of the building right across from yours. There, behind a pile of wooden planks, metal bars and all other unnecessary trash, you noticed a barely noticeable, but suspicious movement. Locking eyes on the exact spot and rolling the plastic on the sight, you zoomed in, getting a clearer image.  

Shockingly enough, there was a barrel peeking right between the two wooden planks, and it was pointed right at you.  

And then it quietly fired.

The bullet would’ve missed anyway, but thankfully, you moved down just in time, watching it penetrate the wall behind. Your heart leaped, pumping blood faster and kicking against your chest, almost as if it tried jumping out. Strange type of fear enveloped your body. It wasn’t fright for own life, rather unpleasant surprise that fueled thoughts of being outplayed. At this stage, you knew very little. Was it only one person? Were there more people? Were you cornered?

For whatever reason, the person on the other building continued firing, twice to be exact – yet both bullets hit the exact same spot as the first one. It didn’t make sense at all, but at least ir allowed keeping track of the opponent.

In a quick act, you moved, peeking just enough to expect to be fired at, but it never happened. Moving once again and receiving nothing in return, you positioned the sniper and looked through the sight for the nth time, trying to confirm if they were still on the same location. And that’s when you noticed.

A blue haired man peeking out, head cocked to the side, his sharp eyes and smirk offering a teasing, harmless expression.

Rage, disappointment and distrust overtook your body fast, blood boiling on a temperature higher than before. All emotions served as a strong reality check, a shot through the heart and mind, reminding of just who you were. They helped strengthen the invisible wall you were so desperately trying to weaken, ruining almost all of the progress made. Still, their consequences that will definitely leave a mark were your own fault and no one else’s.  

A drastic switch happened. While following Juyeon’s movements through the sight, you unconsciously aligned his head with the red dot in the middle. That person was suddenly someone who made you feel threatened, anxious, alarmed, and not the one who was supposed to help achieve change. You expected so much from him, yet all you currently felt was pure let down and anger. The inner battle was as hectic and loud as ever. A finger creeped up to the trigger, trembling as it came in contact with cold metal.  

Before the pull happened, your phone vibrated almost unnoticeably. It apparently did the right, desired trick, as it effectively broke the dangerous, fury-driven daze. With an audible sigh, you remembered who the actual target of the day was, aim moving downwards in a quick motion. Just as predicted and on time, a big black jeep turned the corner, driving into the street underneath you. Getting into a more comfortable position, you trailed the movement of the black vehicle.

First and only to come out of the car was the exact target. His appearance was immediately followed by two quick, (thanks to the silencers, somewhat) muffled gunshots, the bullets hitting just right. With two holes in his big shiny head, the man was sent falling down, momentarily holding onto the open door before faceplanting the cold concrete. Blood seeped out, painting the previously grey ground in a dark red, almost black color.

But the thing was, you only shot once.

Albeit caught off guard with the shocking realization, there was way too little time to get lost, every second more precious than the last one. Hurriedly, you deconstructed the sniper, pushing everything inside the guitar bag in a careless manner. When done, you moved towards the door and took the jammer off in record time before storing it inside the carriage as well.  

A quick glance was thrown in Juyeon’s direction, but unfortunately there was no sight of said man. For whatever reason, you were somewhat glad.

In a slow and relaxed manner, with calculated steps, you took the stairs again, making sure to appear just as natural and neutral as before. Thankfully, almost no one occupied the hallways. On the 5th floor, there were two elderly women happily boasting about their children, beside who you passed with a polite bow. You even smiled at them, but the expression was deemed unseen thanks to the black mask that covered your face.

Luckily, another semi-smooth mission was done with. You were out of the building and away from the scene in a couple of minutes, with no doubts about being seen or suspected. The only bothersome thing was the sudden change of feelings towards the blue haired man. A dangerous and slightly embarrassing switch could’ve had a very tragic outcome.

And of course, it wasn't worth missing out on the fact that for the first time, both had the same target.

You agreed on further meetings, although they were much different than those in the past. A drastic change in atmosphere was present from the first second, yet neither really wanted to comment on it. Despite being close physically, Juyeon didn’t feel warmth coming from you anymore, or at least not in the same amount as before. The male felt your body shiver under a cold gust of wind, but your skin didn’t feel any colder underneath his fingertips. When he tried offering you a jacket to cover up, you denied with a half-hearted smile.

It was unreasonably late, around three in the morning, which meant the city was at its calmest. There were less people on the streets than fingers on both hands and almost no apartments had their lights on. The moon was the most trustful source of light, its soft hues illuminating everything and making it more beautiful.

Nowadays, fewer words were exchanged as well. Silence was common, both bodies quietly cherishing what was left of a cracked relationship rather than trying to fix (or ruin?) it with meaningless talk. Leaned against the male’s shoulder, you tried forcefully letting go of tension to feel a piece of that carelessness that once existed between you. Truthfully, there was a willpower to continue fighting and experiencing the strange kind of joy, but there were so, so many obstacles. And most of them were created by you.

Neither had the explanation as to why this was still an ongoing thing, why neither gave up despite the little flame burning its last few seconds. No matter how long you searched for the answer, it just didn’t appear. A deep sigh resonated in a small bubble of space.

The biggest and constant bother was that invisible wall, still standing proud. Apparently, it grew taller and stronger every time you remembered the unfortunate event from two weeks ago. As time passed by, you became more skeptical, giving time and attention to thoughts you weren’t fond of. They whispered and laughed at a poor being for daring to experience something it wasn’t supposed to in the first place.

You didn’t even look Juyeon in the eyes anymore, always finding a nearby rock or wall crack a more attractive sight. Why? The fear of looking up and seeing no emotion in the man’s eyes was a fearful thought, mighty enough to forbid you from even trying. And why was it affecting you so much, why were you still holding onto it? You didn’t know.

Hell, your fucked-up mind was daring you to kill the man and he didn’t even know about it.

Juyeon, much like always, put more evident effort into the whole thing. It looked as if the male was aware of the trigger for this sudden stumble (not fall!), and was ready to give it his all to fix everything. Immense guilt was evident on his face, and if you looked up just once, you’d be able to read it off his beautiful features.

Despite your mental distancing and defiance, he never gave up transparently trying. You being there with him every night was all the hope Juyeon needed to continue. Even if you weren’t as willing to see him the next day, Juyeon would knock on your door. Even if you weren’t in the mood to talk, he’d ask a question about one of your favorite topics. The assassin wasn’t religious (and truthfully, how could he be?), but every night he’d pray for this tough period to end already. If for nothing else, then to have your eyes lock with his one last time.

Overall, these last few nights were a weird type of battlefield. Juyeon’s hand moved up to your shoulder, occasionally rubbing down your arm, hoping to feel just a bit of warmth there. You’d allow it, sighing and leaning into his hold, trying to, for the nth time, force a bit of feeling back.  

Either way, the two waited for a beautiful sunrise before disappearing in two different directions.

You should’ve believed the tension that thickened with each word the other said. You should’ve refused and backed out from this exact job when not even one person in the room appeared familiar. But it didn’t happen.

For the first time in an incredibly long time, the employers weren’t a part of a mafia or drug dealing gang. That much was disclosed, with a rude comment that it wasn’t your job to know anything more about them, anyway. It had your blood boiling and eyes squinting suspiciously, irises locking down every of the five men present.

Their detailing about the job that had to be done was just as, if not more, brief. Not believing that someone expected you to work properly with just three sentences of information, you asked a couple of times to have them repeated. Every time, the leader of the group sighed louder, eyes rolling back in an over-exaggerated manner, before turning around and giving a knowing look to the man beside. Were they joking around with you?

When asked about the basis behind this assassination, in hope of getting at least a little bit of early lead on who you’re dealing with, the man offered nothing useful in return. Instead of giving a proper reason, or at least putting effort into making a believable story up, he threw something senseless right at your face. Upon asking how you’re supposed to work without knowing how the target looks like, they replied with:

“They’ll be the only ones there, guaranteed. It's just a little game of hide and seek... with a twist. Isn’t that exciting?”

You were spared the detail that the target was just as (if not more,) experienced than you at these “murder plays”, and they demanded huge amounts of caution. Three main points were specified, the address, time and the fact that this was an extremely dangerous mission. The legitimacy of that information remained unknown, as they once again failed to give a coherent explanation. Despite the last point serving as a warning, you suddenly weren’t given a chance to back out.  

“Excuse me?” You said, disbelief all but dripping from those two simple words. “You’re sending me against another assassin, did I connect the dots correctly?”

“You’re a smart one”

“I don’t want to work on this case” You denied, getting ready to leave, when the other cleared his throat.

“We want this person taken out at any cost, and we particularly chose you for it. In the end, we did hear quite a lot of positive reviews... therefore you seem to be the right person, no?” The man tried flattering you, but his voice was laced with venom, lips moving slowly to form an unnatural, wicked grin. He wasn’t looking at you with fake friendliness anymore, rather an emotion that could soon turn dangerous.

“That doesn’t matter to me, I have the right to not accept the job. My signature is not yet written on the papers” A small pile of documents resting on the table was pointed at, endless rows of black text only missing a simple name written in ballpoint pen. The other chuckled lightly, gaze turning threatening in a blink time as he lifted a blue pen and spun it around his thick fingers.

“That’s easily dealt with” The weight of his words hit immediately, a shocking situation that you’re dealing with for the first time. There was no training for this and lack of experience was making you a nervous mess.  

Shuffling body mass from one leg to the other, your eyes remained on the ground, hands anxiously intertwining. There was nothing that came to mind that would help the current position, and you wondered what all of this was about. No one has ever forced you into working for them, much less threatened to sign the contract in your name.

The man chuckled once again, saying nothing but thinking a lot. This was it, they had you.

“Don’t you want this?” Another male spoke, his frame moving from the doorway and opening a black suitcase on the table. The carriage itself probably cost a fortune, as it was made of expensive leather, and the mouth-watering amount of money inside was as alluring as ever. It would probably be the best paid work ever. Still, you managed to look up from the bills and into the leader’s eyes with strong confidence.

“Does it even matter? You’re forcing me to do it anyway” The words barely made it past your tongue, their weight way too heavy. The freedom you had while working was something greatly cherished (for a lack of better words), and it was suddenly taken away. It almost felt as if nothing was in your power anymore. Fearful shivers ran down your spine.

“Well then, glad we got that behind ourselves. Sign here”

The whole process of sealing the deal was done in a matter of seconds. Your signature was scribbled in the ugliest way possible, and the pen was thrown to the other side of the room as a form of protest. The weak plastic broke due to the force of impact, the ink painting a patch of white wall blue. Turning around to leave, you stomped with heavy steps, glaring at each and every male in the room for the last time. Then, one step away from the doorway, you heard it.

Your name. Your real name.

The one no one ever used.

“Good luck, you’ll need it”

The door closed behind in a loud thud, not allowing you enough time to properly react. Just once your face hit the fresh air, did the heaviness of the decision fall upon your body. What have you done? Who were those people and why did they refuse to introduce themselves?  

Doubts filled your head – were your employers suddenly against you? Were they suddenly hyperaware of your knowledge, or scared that you’ll turn to the other side, become their enemy? Was this actually a ploy made to get you out of the game? The thought made you gulp audibly; wondering if but knowing that it was too late to turn around and tear the contract paper into thousands of pieces.

There’s also no way ditching the mission came into discussion. With the way they acted, god only knew if each and every step of yours was watched on. Holy shit.

The walk home was a long one, not particularly because time passed by slow, but because you purposely chose the longer path. Eyes filling with tears, your reaction was one of pity. Reaching up to brush the watery substance away from the corner of your eyes, you looked at the shiny finger. This was the first time in a long while that something managed to bribe out the emotion of grief. And for the first time ever, it was for no one else but yourself.

Tiny rocks sounded under your shoes just quietly enough to not ruin the perfect sneak up. The sky was grey, thin but overlapping clouds blocking sun from coming your way. Luckily, it meant you could move with more freedom, not having to worry about unnecessary shadows and their power to ruin cover.

The first abandoned building you were heading towards was huge, with main walls almost completely ruined. Chunks of concrete, bricks and other unnecessary trash created stable cover that you’d usually be thankful for, yet now dreaded.  

This was the exact address you were given, but the trick was that it happened to be a whole wide field with two abandoned buildings. On top of that, the opponent’s identity was still unknown, therefore you had no knowledge of who to look for and where. For all you knew, they could already be in position and aiming right at your head. “It’s just a little game of hide and seek, with a twist”. Instinctively, you ducked behind the nearest tree, feeling the heart strengthen its beats. Carefully and in calculated pace, the advance towards the entrance was continued.

There was a huge hole in the ceiling of every floor. It reached all the way up to the destroyed rooftop, almost as if something heavy fell from above and demolished the concrete surface. With back pressed flush against a piece of wall that still stood strong, you took a deep breath and reached down for a favorite of weapons, your trusted knife.

Suddenly, there was a strange type of noise coming from an unknown direction, resonating throughout the whole building. In the midst of a less careful and more panicked moment, while trying to retrieve the blade, it sliced through the delicate flesh of your calf. A quietly yelp of pain escaped your lips, hand immediately stretching to press on the wound. The feeling of blood running down your leg was accompanied by burning pain, and you tried ignoring it while climbing up the stairs.

Thanks to the special soft soles of the boots, your steps weren’t heard over the hard ground. They also didn’t put much force on your calf, therefore the advance to the 1st and 2nd floor went by almost without a problem. Occasionally, due to a bad step, the wound would reopen, another flow of blood quick to rush out along with a thousand silent curses.

The doorways on both floors were as demolished as the rest of the building, preventing anyone from walking through and forcing you to move up to the 3rd. Dodging and crouching down at places where you’d be exposed to the outside, you all but crawled up.

The third floor seemed different; way less disintegrated than the rest. Once there, you looked around and through the now available doorway. The corridor was very long, filled with wooden planks that once resembled doors leading to empty rooms. On the other side, about fifty meters away, there was another stairway, much like the one you took just now.

Alas, despite the burn in your calf, there was suddenly that alarming feeling of being watched.

Immediately ducking behind cover, you gripped the knife tight and took a few deep but quick breaths, planning the next move. Someone was definitely in there, and the rapid heartbeat was making sure you were constantly aware of it.

The feeling gradually subdued the more time passed by. You looked around attentively, once again taking notice of the still gaping hole on the ceiling. There was no one watching you through it though, so the trigger must’ve been from either outside or down the hallway. Remembering the noise from earlier, you completely crossed out the possibility of them being outside.

Which of course, wasn’t in your favor at all.

Peeking out just so the top of the head showed, you tried bribing out shots or any kind of attack from the other – something that would indicate where they were located. Receiving nothing in return was slightly confusing, but it also offered a pinch of hope. Maybe they moved, which meant you had a chance to sneak up behind them, or maybe they’re just hiding, which meant it could all go down very fast.

With a hurt leg that was slowly growing numb, there wasn’t a lot of time you had left before retreat was necessary. And never once did that happen. Therefore, trying to protect pride and get this done just to never see those nasty men again, you tried winging it. Pressing the wound one last time, you whispered a prayer before taking off through the open doorway.

There was just enough cover to move around in semi-safety, back turned towards one of the walls. Your eyes perceptively scanned every corner, every pile of rocks which could offer any type of protection. Occasionally, ignoring the pain, you’d jump inside one of the rooms to your right, hoping to catch the other off guard. The knife in your hands was gripped tight, leather handle shining slightly due to a thin layer of sweat coating it.

Tension was as high as ever, air becoming thick to an almost suffocating degree. For the first time, you felt undoubtedly scared. Your mind was clouded with a thousand racing thoughts, all of which only intensified the sensation of panic. The more time passed, the more your eyes aimlessly wandered around empty spaces, growing more tired and unable to notice possibly important details.

The amount of blood you lost was probably in the red zone, moving around becoming more challenging with every step. Still, doing the best possible job was always a requirement, therefore you used last spurts of strength to enter the 2nd to last room in the long hallway.

Once again met with a different terrain, you immediately noticed a demolished doorway, connecting the room to the one right beside. Upon quickly deeming the current room safe, you crouched down, sneaking towards the linking point. As if sensing danger, you patiently waited a couple of moments, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. If not for the protective leather handle, the blade would’ve sliced through your hand due to the impossibly strong grip.

Someone on the other side coughed. A curse followed right after.  

Both moved rapidly, reaching out for the other through the doorway.

You were held at gunpoint, jaw feeling the pressure of a cold muzzle on it, while a strong hand grabbed your hair, pulling it back. Your own hands grabbed the other’s collar, tugging down while holding the thin, sharp blade against their most sensitive point, Adam’s apple.

Neither moved.

Blue watched Red with surprised eyes, irises playing inside the broad space of dark brown. Your gaze tried locking the man down, scanning those beautiful features while still avoiding his sharp eyes. Unexpectedly, a weak wave of emotion hit, bringing back a piece of what you wanted for a very long time. There was a slight urge to reach out and caringly caress his sharp cheeks, cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

But there was a gun pressed against your skin, and a knife against his.

And neither moved.

The war started. Horrid battles began and ripped your heart piece by piece. Everything was on the line and an indecisive mind was as dangerous as ever. The realization that this man, despite everything that happened, was the last person you wanted to harm, hurt the most. It was the quick moment of reminisce about the old times, when everything was just starting. He was the only one who gauged new, thrilling, pleasant emotions and made them feel like they’re exactly what you needed. And it was the truth.

But the weight of the weapon on your jaw reminded of the not-so-bright moments as well. A flashback of the day you were teasingly shot at sent shivers down your spine, feelings of pure anxiety and fear coming back in an instant. Rightfully so, they were strong and rivaled the positive ones, trying to outweigh them and take control over your next actions. The man was still someone who dared pull the trigger on you, dared taking that type of unpredictable risk.  

If he dared pull it again, you dared slit his flawless, soft skin. But embarrassingly enough, you’d never have enough strength to be the first one, no matter how impulse-driven. Harming him definitely was your last wish. The thought of it even being a possibility made your eyes water, tears welling up and falling like never before, straining your soft cheeks.

Juyeon’s heart ached as well. Sadly, it opposed two separate and strong thunders. The first one hit hard, touching the intimate topic of his feelings towards you. It wasn’t a secret that you’ve changed him as well. In a word of gloom, blood and violence, you made everything disappear and instead of war, brought peace to his mind. Most of the time, it was enough for Juyeon to know that you were there, and every worry would fade away. The mutual understanding was then something he grew accustomed to and happy for. The male didn’t feel like he didn’t deserve attention anymore.

But what hit even harder was the fact that Juyeon was aware of your current thought process, and the guilt once again ate him away, bite by bite.

Carefully, the grip on your hair was released, gloved hand reaching up, thumb wiping a falling tear. Rough material nearly scraped your skin, a frown appearing on the other’s face almost immediately. Juyeon bit down on the glove, taking it off before placing his hand back on your warm cheek. The act made your eyes water even more, lips trembling and throat constricting to stop loud whimpers from escaping.

Still, the weapons didn’t move.

“Juyeon” You suddenly whined, finally finding strength to say his name. Lightheadedness was slowly overtaking your whole body, vision blurring fast. The pain in your leg although still present was long forgotten. Every letter carried huge weight, every taken breath felt like the last and you wondered if taking that bullet hurt any less. Unconsciously, your hand began shaking, resulting in the thin blade moving against the man’s delicate skin. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but Juyeon visibly and audibly gulped under the metal.

“They... they set us up to kill each other, Juyeon” The realization hurt like a sudden kick to the gut. It was supposed to happen sooner or later. All suspicions you weren’t willing to think about came out to be true and the terror spread through your body in a strong wave. Everything made sense – why those men weren’t willing to introduce themselves, why refusal wasn't an option and why no proper explanation was given to you. They were aware that if you knew even one of those things, you wouldn’t have dared to show up in the first place.

Or would you? Would they be able to push just the right buttons and play with your mind as they were right now?

You were set to break apart.

Do it. Don’t do it. Do. Don’t. Past and present were clashing together, habits and new found emotions. For the first time in a while, you felt somewhat disgusted with your job. Yet, the wheels were turning, reminding that you’ve been doing this for years and now was no time to give up under the pressure. It was so, so easy to end this all, much like hundred times before. Swallow down the hard feeling and contractions of your heart, cut through like you’re used to. Emotions were just an accident, an error in the system of a machine.

All this time though, Juyeon’s hand remained on your cheek, and only now was it only noticeable that he wasn’t holding you in place. The muzzle of the gun wasn’t as strong on your jaw as it was before. Juyeon wasn’t going to actively fight or harm you either, that much was clear. This had to end somehow, and the male was about to use his last possible chance.

“Look at me” The voice he said it with was soft, but underlined with a certain type of authority. For whatever reason, as if under a spell, your eyelids opened, irises immediately locking on his.

And then it all crashed down.

All the doubts and hesitation were immediately gone. Your hand moved, putting pressure on the weapon for just a quick moment before letting go completely. Heavy blade fell onto the ground with a loud and high-pitched noise, one that echoed throughout the whole building. The invisible wall was no more.

At the same time, Juyeon released the gun, hefty metal hitting concrete with just as loud of a thud. When the pressure disappeared and the current situation processed properly, your body went numb. Legs giving out, you almost collapsed on the ground. Luckily, Juyeon managed to catch you just in time. The male lowered the smaller body onto the ground, holding it carefully.

Your head hung low; eyes wandering all around the room, but not focusing on one spot. This was the first mission you’ve ever failed and the fear of possible consequences was scary.

Juyeon’s hands enveloped your face, just holding it firmly. Neither had an obvious cheerful expression, but there was a lack of certain something that made both seem more at ease. He caressed the soft skin, examining your face that was blank of any emotion. It was the moment of complete calm.

Upon focusing on the man, you noticed a clear red line just underneath his Adam’s apple. Instinctively, you reached out, running a smooth finger over it and listening to Juyeon’s strained hiss. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes, yet the other was quick to wipe it away.

“Can you listen to me?” He questioned, with a gaze that suddenly turned more serious, albeit none the less caring. The breathing rhythm was slow and deep, almost as if he was trying to calm down in the fastest way possible. With a slight nod, you replied, hoping to keep enough consciousness to listen until the end.

“Let’s escape this hell” You would’ve definitely reacted greatly to the proposition, if it weren’t for the lack of energy in your body. Instead, the reply was a simple, perplexed look, a result of not quite processing what was talked about.

“Escape, disappear, perish, they’ll never know. They’ll never find us because... because they’ll think we’re dead. Isn’t that what they wanted? To wipe us off the list?” The tone Juyeon used was a hopeful one, as if the man already had everything planned and was ready to go right this second. And maybe, just maybe, that was the case.

“We’ll move countries and get new identities – I have a couple of friends that could and will help us with that. We’ll start a new life away from... away from all of this, because we can’t stay” Gradually, his words became more rushed, too many thoughts and too little time to wrap them up. “We can’t go back. They’ll kill us themselves, you know that, right?”

Juyeon was right. In the planned scenario, one of you was supposed to die today, while the other would’ve been finished off upon reporting the case. You’ve thought about it many times, making up scenarios and trying to find a way to get out of them. No one has ever trained you in that field or shown any ways of dealing with it, and there was an exact, fucked-up reason for it.

“Or we could just...” His eyes wandered off to the two weapons lying on the ground, tears welling up fast. There’s no way that was the only other option, yet...

For a moment, you glanced at the objects as well, not out of interest, but pure disgust. Just a mere thought of what could happen made your stomach twirl and heart hurt. Turning around to look at the other, you noticed a teardrop that made it down his jaw. Wiping it off gently, you smiled, speaking in a low and calm whisper.

“No... no. Let’s... let’s go. Let’s disappear together, wherever that takes us, Juyeon” The mind finally accepted the sudden feelings that were no longer confined and hidden. The imaginary, but nonetheless strong, cage and restrictions were no more. You finally felt proper euphoria of freedom.

Speechless, but immensely happy, that’s what Juyeon was in that exact moment. His chest abruptly wasn’t enough space for the organ that beat at an incredible pace, with new-found strength. Tightening his hold, the male pulled you towards his chest, into a first, proper hug. Your hands sneaked around his body, trying to squeeze as hard as possible and relish the beautiful moment. In such an intimate position, it was possible to feel that exact excited heartbeat of the male.

After a long period of comfortable silence, you quietly spoke into his chest, “Please piggyback me... wherever... I don’t think I can walk”  

“Oh my god, you’re hurt?!” Juyeon noted in an alarming tone, eyes immediately scanning your body and finally noticing a streak of red liquid on the concrete underneath your leg. He loudly cursed at himself for not seeing it earlier, hand reaching down to press on the wound. Although not fresh, it still gushed out more blood, earning another hiss from you.

“Yeah, no shit mister... fuck be careful! I wouldn’t go all baby... and soft on you if I... I didn’t feel like fainting. You were lucky today” You bit back jokingly, trying to keep the light atmosphere that was slowly coming down its high. Juyeon’s head shook at that, a quiet ‘you’re not in position to speak like that’ passing through his barely parted lips. A pair of hands worked fast on tying a thin jacket around your calf to stop further bleeding.  

“How?” He asked, confused but curious at the same time.

“I’d rather not talk about it” Your head turned away from the other, irises locking onto one of many holes on the wall. The male chuckled at that, checking the knot before standing up with knees half bent. He helped you stand up and climb up on his back, strong arms instantly gripping the back of your thighs.

“Bet you hurt yourself, clumsy”

“Yeah, bet”  

With a loud, content sigh, your head lowered onto Juyeon’s back, eyes closing as you finally drifted off to sleep. There, on the closed, but broad battlefield, the two warriors accepted their faith. They made up their minds for a different future, something neither were sure how to approach, but were more than ready to experience together. A future that didn’t revolve around blood, murder and secrecy, one that would allow both to heal and live their lives breathing properly.

Quatervois, a heavy change no one expected. A decision made fast, but a result of long, aimless thought and experience. And some may say this was deemed to happen sooner or later, but was it? If things were just slightly different...  

Guess we would never know.

AN: well... here it is? truthfully speaking, i’m very satisfied with this work, and i love every piece of it, but it has been giving me so much stress oh my god... writing has taken me so much time because i tried so hard to make it perfect and i really hope reading almost 22k of this was worth it, and that you’ve enjoyed it. at some parts, i’ve maybe focused on the main female character too much, but i think that to understand her character, it’s important to have an in-depth point of view. i’d really appreciate it (to the moon and back) if you guys could leave feedback for this one. thank you so so so much for reading, have a good day <3

[jaskiersvalley]

Ok look, whenever i think that i finished reading all of ur ficlets, an old one will come up, and im left to wonder if i actually read everything. I think ive scrolled for about a week now and still not sure if ive read everything. In all seriousness tho, i love ur writings so much. I hope u kee writing bcs damn

Sometimes I think back to this ask and wonder whether you have managed to read everything or if there’s still some surprises in stock for you. I really hope that, no matter where you got to, you’ve continued enjoying the stories you find.

Today, I have something a little less usual to offer. It’s Gersakier but Geralt isn’t interested in sex, however he loves indulging Jaskier and also watching. So...have some Jaskier/Cahir with voyeur Geralt.

Mead, Weed and a Place to Breed

Novigrad was one of the last places on the continent where anyone could have a drink and not be harassed for merely existing. It was why Geralt liked it, Jaskier loved it for the simple fact that there was no judgement about practically anything. Sure, murder was frowned upon but that was only to be expected. However, he could sit on Geralt’s lap and eye fellow patrons up.

“Someone caught your eye, Buttercup?” Geralt asked, a hand rubbing over Jaskier’s thigh. He was into his third tankard of mead while Jaskier was still nursing his first goblet of wine.

“Mhm,” Jaskier sipped his drink, eyes fixed to a corner of the room. “In that dark corner, not brooding as pretty as you but comes a close second. Maybe third if Eskel would actually brood.”

Following his gaze, Geralt nodded appreciatively, Jaskier always did manage to find people who danced the line between pretty and rugged. This man was no different, Nilfgaardian armour, high cheekbones and the hints of a frowning pout. Absolutely the kind of person Jaskier favoured.

“Will you approach him?”

In reply, Jaskier hopped up and sashayed across the room, easily perching on on the startled man’s lap. Geralt knew exactly when Jaskier laid out his offer because the man’s eyes darted up to him, darkening with lust. It seemed that Jaskier had done it again.

Sure enough, not three minutes later they were emptying their drinks and Geralt took it as a cue to do the same. As he put his tankard down, he watched Jaskier lead the man by the hand towards him.

“Geralt, this is Cahir.” He introduced. “Cahir, Geralt, he’s my witcher and he likes to watch.”

“I have no problem with an audience.” It was exactly what Geralt liked to hear. “You got a room, Dandelion?”

The nickname didn’t even elicit a jealous frown from Geralt. He called Jaskier his Buttercup, most people called him Jaskier, and a few, rare partners were allowed Dandelion. It must have meant Cahir said or did the right thing to earn the right. This just made Geralt’s interest pique more.

They walked to the back of the tavern, to the rooms that could be bought for a night or two. Jaskier had managed to get one that wasn’t an absolute shit hole, it had a decent sized bed and a table with two chairs. There was just enough room to put the chair against the wall and watch what happened on the bed from a comfortable distance.

That was the thing. Geralt had absolutely zero desire to be the one on the bed. Sex didn’t appeal to him, he physically could enjoy it but mentally it was more of a chore than anything else. It was a sharp contrast to Jaskier who was happiest when his legs were spread or his mouth was full. After a few lacklustre rolls in a bed or by a campfire, they had agreed that it just wasn’t working. Well, not physically anyway. Because they still adored each other, Geralt loved being able to cuddle and touch without Jaskier flinching away. Meanwhile, Jaskier absolutely doted on Geralt, fussed over his every whim and need. They made each other happy even if they weren’t a conventional couple. Especially when it came to matters of the bedroom. Geralt had seen how Jaskier held back, tried to curb his physical needs because he was devoted to Geralt. It had led to a few conversations and the agreement that Jaskier could have anyone he wanted as long as Geralt could watch. Because Geralt loved watching Jaskier mindless with pleasure, it was so much better to see him rather than miss half his reactions because he was too busy trying to coax them from him.

In the room, no time was wasted being coy. Jaskier all but raced Cahir to get naked and on the bed first. It made Geralt smile fondly at his antics, always knowing exactly what he wanted and how. Jaskier was not shy in bed.

Sitting back, Geralt watched as the two knelt on the bed, facing each other. The kisses were heated, Jaskier seemingly yielding but only in that he encouraged Cahir to lick between his parted lips, coaxing him into something deeper and filthier.

Sometimes a bed partner might keep glancing to Geralt, wondering whether he was joining in, almost fearful of it. Thankfully, Cahir seemed to have no such worries about having a witcher watch him get it on with his boyfriend. Instead, he actually appeared to relish the audience, hands roaming and feeling Jaskier’s muscles, resting to frame them before moving on. Such a show was most definitely appreciated by Geralt.

Not that Jaskier was lying back and letting Cahir do all the work. He was mouthing against any skin he found, hand teasing along Cahir’s shaft, humming in pleasure at what he found.

“I want you to fuck me. Show me what they teach you in Nilfgaard.” His eyes were fixed on Cahir as he spoke. “Fuck the air from my lungs and fill me with your come.”

Some slick was pressed into Cahir’s hands and he didn’t hesitate in working Jaskier open. There was something especially pleasing about watching Jaskier’s mouth fall open, especially when Cahir took his cock between his lips. The way Jaskier’s muscles flexed as he rocked down on the fingers opening him up before pushing up into Cahir’s mouth. Geralt watched with contentment, knowing that Jaskier was getting everything he wanted.

“If you don’t get your dick in me, I will come down your throat and leave you hanging,” Jaskier growled, wriggling impatiently.

Thankfully, Cahir seemed to take it in good spirit and pulled away laughing, patting Jaskier on the thigh for good measure. “Whatever your lordship demands.”

“Damn right. Did I tell you I’m a viscount?”

Still grinning, Cahir rearranged them a little, Jaskier on his back, near the edge of the bed, his legs thrown over Cahir’s shoulders. It was a testament to how flexible Jaskier was, something that had Geralt surprised at times too.

As soon as Cahir pushed into him, Jaskier was making demands again, “Put those muscles to use, go harder.”

Incredibly, rather object, Cahir obeyed which had Jaskier crooning. “I could feel you twitch. You like it when I boss you around. Tell you to go faster-” he broke off with a groan as Cahir pressed forward, almost bending him in half, “-oh fuck, that’s it. Knew you would be good.”

Tipping his head back, it dangled off the edge of the bed so Jaskier could wink at Geralt before his lips formed an ‘oh’ of surprise.

“That right there. Do it again!”

As asked, Cahir repeated the motion but slower, rolling his hips deep and Jaskier arched. “Fucking faster! Don’t you dare slow down now.”

Huffing in entertainment, Cahir did as told. “As the little lordling wishes.”

Geralt could see the flush spreading down Jaskier’s neck and chest. Sweat made him glisten and Cahir was not much different either. They made for a very pretty picture, Jaskier bossy and demanding Cahir fuck him properly. The sound of skin on skin, the smell of it all, it wasn’t as offensive to Geralt when he wasn’t in the midst of it all. Plus, he got to watch as Cahir’s muscles started to shake from the exertion, Jaskier’s voice broke as he barked for more.

Sitting back, Geralt smiled as Jaskier’s hand wound into Cahir’s hair and pulled, their kiss more of a messy exchange of panted breaths than anything else. Something about the whole scene had Geralt slouching in his chair, legs falling open. It was quite the view, watching Cahir fuck his boyfriend quite so thoroughly.

“Right there. Fuck!” Jaskier was teetering on the edge and Geralt could happily appreciate how Cahir had been holding back until he was certain Jaskier was right there with him. As Jaskier came, he tipped his head back to lazily grin at Geralt, making sure he was still okay with things.

Most surprisingly, Cahir wasn’t pulling out and rushing out as soon as he was done. Instead, he kissed playfully along Jaskier’s jaw, nosing along his cheek with a smile.

“You okay there?”

It was the kind of care Geralt so rarely witnessed from Jaskier’s lovers, who were too eager the leave the presence of a witcher once they’d had their fun. Yet there was no jealousy as Jaskier turned his attention back to Cahir with a wide, lopsided smile and tugged at the hair that fell forward.

“More than.”

A few more kisses were exchanged before Cahir moved, helping Jaskier ease his legs down and giving them a quick rub.

“Guess this is where I bid you both a good night,” he said, wiping himself down with a cloth from the washbowl.

“You know,” Jaskier drawled, shamelessly sprawled on the bed still, “if we’re ever in Nilfgaard, I would love to look you up again.”

Cahir shook his head. “You’ll never find me there. Try Vicovaro. I’m heading back home.”

He was mostly dressed and Geralt didn’t miss the pout on Jaskier’s face. It was obvious that he had found a playmate he wasn’t done with yet. Maybe Geralt could see about taking a few contracts as far as Vicovaro.

“And if we were there, how would we find you?” Geralt asked, giving his permission for there to be more between his boyfriend and Cahir. “I doubt if I asked around, I could find you on a first name only.”

Cahir’s hand was on the latch to the door, ready to leave. He turned with a cheeky grin. “Just ask for the count.” Stepping out of the door, he turned with one final nod. “Witcher. Viscount.”

And like that, he was gone. Jaskier dropped his head back to the bed with a groan.

“I can’t believe he outranked me.”

Geralt snorted and settled on the bed, opening up an arm for Jaskier to snuggle in. He still smelled of another man and sex but that was okay.

“I think he outranked you in more than just title,” he teased and got a halfhearted smack to the arm for it. They both knew he was right and Jaskier was going to be demanding more. Nothing for it, Geralt was just going to have to find a contract he couldn’t refuse in Vicovaro. Maybe he could even find a contract to escort a count home, it was a dangerous road to travel after all.

[macklives]

alright, im actually kind of in the mood to unpack some stuff regarding karkat's character and the way alternia works actually, so i dont mind giving this a go. and while act 5 isnt completely finished yet (so this is an analysis post for act 5 up until page 2305), there is still more to explore, and im pretty sure i have a lot more to read regarding both karkat AND alternia. until then, i will give a general layout as to what i know so far and how i can expand this in a psychological way (especially considering i did my psych exam so my mind is FRESH from studying)

alright, starting with what seems to be the deal with the hemospectrum, theres a total of 12 blood colors. HOWEVER, one of those blood colors is a "mutant" blood which is unwanted in troll culture as it is, well, "mutant", meaning whoever has this blood will get brutally slaughtered. hurrayyy. im guessing it is even lower than aradia's rust blood, as she is allowed to live but is the lowest on the hierarchy triangle. meaning karkats blood is not even ON the hierarchy triangle and simply buried underground where they hope he stays. so its not exactly pleasant to be living in a society where everyone is trying to KILL you or at least keep you away from everything.

from what i remember, troll reproduction is a vital aspect in their culture, that everyone is forced to mate and drones will come by each house to collect the genetic material. this is mandatory apparently, and if someone were to object, they will be “culled" as quickly as they could say no. alternia seems to be really keen on the whole "blood and carnage" thing, which means their probable solution to anybody breaking the law, is to kill them on sight and just leave them there to rot - regardless of who they are and what families they comes from or have. trolls are free to kill whenever or whoever they please without any governmental repercussions. which means revenge upon revenge happens without any policy.

however this is very important when looking at karkat, because karkat may not be able to do the whole reproduction process (not that we necessarily want him to, im saying this in terms of how its mandatory for every troll and there will be a time when the drones WILL come for karkat). but as he is already a mutant and if they were to "collect" from him, they would find out his blood regardless of how he hides it. they will either cull him for saying no, or cull him for his blood. karkat, in this sense, is doomed regardless. which makes his character much more interesting.

and keep in mind alternia kind of sucks, because from the looks of it, trolls are constantly tested throughout their lives to prove themselves to society that they are allowed to live and survive. but ONLY if they are the strongest among them. alternia wants to become this fearful planet where the weak die off and only those proven worthy can stay to grow up and slaughter more of their kind until the world is nothing but blood thirsty strong murderers. im not too sure who is governing alternia but they can suck a dick if they think this is how good morals work. alternia only really has one way to solve things which is to kill those who question/fight back, OR to kill those who CANNOT fight back essentially. which puts all the trolls through a double edged sword where they cannot do anything but follow the guidelines given to them by troll's society and government, and try to survive as much as they can until then.

if i remember correctly, when it comes to the law side of things. if you look at it from terezi's introduction where she explains prosecutions with her plushies (lemonsnout ect ect i forgot the term for them lol), she said "you are guilty until proven innocent" which is the polar opposite of "innocent until proven guilty” used in OUR own society today (tho i guess we are by far the "good guys" in this situation, but we are far different than how trolls live their lives). anyways, what this means is that everyone dies regardless unless theres literal proof that they have not done the crime. even so i wouldnt put it past them to do nothing about their case even WITH proof. terezi even goes to say that technically there is no way to deal with the law on alternia, and most of crimes get solved through death. she even demonstrates this by how easily she hung the "suspect" and flipped a coin to determine his fate. however, even with the coin landing on the side of safety, where the suspect were to be released, she said "im blind remember i cannot see this coin" and essentially "killed" him. while terezi may have just been playing with her plushies, theres something we can take from this which dictates how their actual court cases are actually solved.

NOW, vriska (yes ik pls bare with me here, i will not make it about vriska but i do have a point here), from the last few pages i saw, can basically kill her friends in an instant, without any remorse. i can tell she sees this as the most "necessary" solution for her problems. i wouldnt say its for survival, but she does do it as a way to provide some sort of safety on alternia. she is a higher blood, and apparently the high bloods are known to kill whoever they please as long as its convenient. and since trolls have this whole fad of "killing the ones who cause you trouble so the problem is out of the way", she is wired to think its the only solution when threatened or when you dislike a person. 

god, she killed aradia because she wanted "revenge", because she wanted to get back at aradia for tormenting her with ghosts EVEN IF aradia did so because she threw tavros off a cliff in the first place. this may have worsened their friendship, KEEP IN MIND THEY WERE FRIENDS, but NEITHER, and i mean neither terezi/vriska/aradia, had any remorse if the other dies as long as there was a reason. in the story, vriska didnt care what happened to tavros because she disliked him, therefore becoming pretty bias over his fate. because of this attempt at killing, aradia didnt care what happened to vriska either, and neither did terezi. terezi sold her out to one of the most powerful beings on their planet, solely because of their revenge cycle. as long as the troll in question did something "malicious”, then that plays a factor in their morals. vriska gave no second thought to killing both of her friends (or at least attempt to with tavros), terezi also tormented john in act 4 which led to his “doomed timeline death” and sold vriska out after she realized vriska wouldnt change. so no fucking WONDER karkat tries to hide who he is, he's overly cautious to not let it slip out because even the people he calls friends could backstab him at any given time considering theres LITERAL EXAMPLES OF THESE TROLLS HAVING DONE SO.

to karkat, he sees this as dangerous, which is why he even CALLS vriska dangerous to begin with. she might not even hesitate to kill him herself or maybe sell him out to the drones, because 1. she may not want to be a witness to something society actively seeks to destroy and 2. she cares more for her survival than karkats. EVEN if they were friends (re: aradia and vriska and terezi). so it just shows. 

on that note, i find it funny how karkat indirectly distracted vriska after she baited him with the question of his blood in a past conversation, which prompted karkat to monologue about troll romance. he was, yes, VERY interested in this topic to start with, but it was a nice little bonus for karkat as to not be found out by the one person who would most likely kill him even if it wasnt on purpose. however, we do not know how this will play out IF she does find out, we just know karkat is in the right to be scared of the theory.

and, alright i do have to mention this, while karkat may have been an angry fucker to START with, who spites the world and throws out insults every chance he gets, i feel he does this as more of a survival instinct as well. he doesnt care what he says to people no matter what they rank on the hemospectrum. they dont know his blood color so he feels he has some sort of immunity, but he just needs to keep it hidden. it also may just be his personality, as he IS a character who was given specific traits and andrew went along with it without so much thinking about plot. yet if you look at this from more of the metaphorical route, think about it with uhhhh lets say the perspective of how dogs work. for example, when you put a chihuahua next to a doberman, a doberman is more of an excited, energetic dog whereas a chihuahua will rain hell down on anybody who so goes near them. sometimes this is to make up for their size, to seem as menacing as the larger doberman, as they have nothing else to fend themselves with. another way to look at it is, if you see a bear (i forget if its black/brown or grizzly) you make yourself seem like the bigger person by scaring it off with sounds and eventually it will leave you alone. these sort of tactics work in the sense of survival. this is sort of what karkat could be doing, he uses insults and a defensive shouting to not really "hide" himself, but to have some sort of way as to not be found out if people start to question. someone asks him "hey karkat whats your blood" he goes "FUCK YOU, FUCK OFF, END OF STORY" which could make a person go "yo sorry dude forget i ever asked". so this could be a factor as to why he is so crabby, however on the other hand, he is crabby because that is also his character. andrew probably thought yo cancer = crab = crabby. however i do like how he is perceived and the whole "mutant blood" really made me do a double take on how he views life himself. he has to always hide who he is or he will get physically killed. alternia would take joy in finding out he does not belong there because lets face it, alternia is a bitch of a planet.

this also brought me to ask the question, why does karkat want to be a leader if hes so scared of what would happen to him if he were to be found out? which then, at first i said lol this is just karkat, he wants to a leader because he just wants to be the leader, he likes when things go to plan and that he the most say in their sburb plans considering he thinks everyone else is a "dumbass". to which, i then thought about it more and went ouch what if hes a leader because he knows hes not valued enough in society, that he somehow wants to feel some sort of importance in the world, so he wants to become a leader. i imagine younger karkat, not knowing why his blood is so undermined, finding out he is not wanted and suddenly on the most wanted list without having even DONE anything. even TAVROS said he was on that list, but only because he was weak and had no back-bone, here karkat may have been strong but no matter what, he was to be culled BECAUSE of his blood. something he cannot change no matter what. imagine a little kid knowing he will die at any point because of who he is (rlly sounds familiar if you think about it). so of course, he hides himself from the world, but do you think for an instant, little angry karkat wants to simply be FORGOTTEN about? i doubt that, he wants to be heard, he doesnt necessarily want to be rejected as he knows he will be, so while he does hide his blood, he wants to have a voice no matter what. when being a leader, people dont reject you, they LISTEN. they all may not want to because karkat is just a fucking ticking time bomb, who can lash out at any second, but i feel theres now a reason why he has this superiority complex. he wants to sort of become the person he knows he never will become (if you put it into that perspective). so thats kind of why im giving him the benefit of the doubt here.

i would also like to point out a sort of.... comparison?? not with the dogs but with unwanted children in a family household. this doesnt necessarily apply to karkat, but sub in family household with society and it might as well. (on that note, a warning/viewer discretion, if you have any problem with this kind of discussion, i wouldnt read further into this paragraph and skip to the next one) alright, the unwanted child psychology basically deals with the process of a child which is neglected by their parents, and/or know that they were never wanted in the family. i read an article a while back when we were discussing this in a lecture, we were browsing multiple people's perspective on the matter, and one said "An affective relationship may be suffocating to [the unwanted/neglected child]: it’s a defense against intimacy of which they know nothing. Normally they fluctuate between egotism and deep feelings of inferiority. They don’t understand what a balanced and healthy self-esteem looks like." it explains how the child who grows up in an unwanted home admits great emotion deprivation, because the child's bonds of affection are extremely fragile, and this can lead to both egotism and feeling like they are inadequate. and it really strongly shows karkats personality. we havent gotten that much from him in general, but considering how he uses this egotism to cover up the fact that he may be doomed, really shows the similarity. i liked this short article so i want to give some points to take into consideration, specifically this part: "It will be very difficult for unwanted children to build healthy relationships of affection in their adult life. Love is a foreign language to them. They don’t know how to decipher the codes and much less how to build them. It’s very hard for them to need and to be needed. That’s why, more often than not, they completely shirk their conflicts with peers and superiors, or do nothing but generate them. They speak incessantly about the broken relationship that marked their arrival in the world. A person with such a background will need help to get through those abysses of love that live in their heart. The most important step is that they recognize that their discomfort doesn’t depend on who they are, but the circumstances that led to their being." it may not be 100% tru for karkat but theres a small portion of it that can link back to karkats view on life and how being this mutant can really change who he is as a person. and i hope you can see the similarity between karkats character and this form of psychology. yet i also do not fully know the depth of karkat vantas. however i do hope it continues to build up in this way, as it would be both interesting and make us feel more for him as a person.

alright, i think if i write any more i will never stop aghjsk, which is a bit too much for a sunday afternoon, basically to sum up this post, trolls are violent and karkat will be killed if hes found out, even by his friends if it comes down to it. so karkat cannot really trust anybody, hes alone and imagine the thrill he had when he saw jack cut his hand to show the bright red blood? that he finally has someone LIKE HIM. imagine when he finds out about the kids. so i believe in his growth, while he needs to get a better vocabulary, i do get why hes so defensive all the time. because hes both scared and unwanted. and he wants to make up for it.

and i guess with all that being said, you can tell i now have a slight soft spot for the kid lmao

[milknette]

chapter 05 - jagged stone

we’re making waves of conversation; got a rush of energy, getting high on humans.

tumblr month: @adrinetteapril​​

links: ao3 | ff.net chapter: previous | next

THE CONCERT arena is absolutely packed.

Marinette’s only too grateful that Nino’s apparent connections allow them to slip past the crowds of humans, noisily screaming and bumping over each other as they try to catch a glimpse of their idol.

Even seeing them all gathered together is more than enough to give her a headache, and she can’t help but wonder how Nino survives through, much less enjoys it all— after having proudly told her that he worked similar shows and events whenever he had the time.

“You like this?” Marinette tries to ask, although she’s quite sure her voice is effectively drowned out by the noise around her.

(Mermaids aren’t one for loud places: they like the peace and quiet of the ocean— all-natural sounds outside of the ‘synthetic’ music of the humans, which they argue isn’t anything more than noise.)

Nino responds like there isn’t any problem. “Doesn’t seem to make sense since I’m a merman, huh?” He shouts back, laughing as they navigate through the concert hall. “But I think there’s a lot of things that our kind brushes off too quickly without really taking the time off to appreciate it. So we keep missing out.”

“What do you mean by that—?”

He and Alya share a meaningful look, with the latter rolling her eyes and playfully nudging his side. “He just means that if you were more open, you’d probably enjoy yourself a lot more.”

Marinette doesn’t get to respond— or even ponder on that question, however, as they’re led through a guarded door, entering backstage.

It’s a lot more quiet and less crowded, though the area buzzes with activity; people either giving or taking orders, rushing around as they attempt to ready everything for the concert in half an hour.

“Come on,” Nino tells them, waving his hand forward. “I have to get ready, but Adrien’s somewhere around here so he can show you around.”

(They don’t have to look long— finding him animatedly speaking with a group of stagehands who altogether seem to hang on to his every word.)

“Of course,” Alya laughs lightly, as he notices the group come into view.

Adrien doesn’t even take a second thought before rushing over to them, evidently leaving a group of unenthused fans in his wake. “Alya, you’re here!” he greets, before turning toward the mermaid and smiling. “And Marinette— a pleasure, as alwaves. I’m glad you made it.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t easy to get her to go,” Alya responds instead, rolling her eyes. Then: “or would ‘beelieve’ it be more on-brand?”

Adrien laughs goodnaturedly. Marinette’s only trying to recall where the deepest trench is in their area.

(Just for reference.)

At that moment, a stagehand rushes over to Nino, holding a clipboard as he rushedly asks him to hurry over for a sound check.

“Guess that’s my cue to go,” Nino finally says; then, with a sudden (almost wicked) grin: “Alya, wanna see my setup?”

“What? I’ve seen your setup a thou—,” a nudge, then: “oh… yeah, I’d love to!”

“Adrien, you’d be good to show Marinette around right?” Nino asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

The two of them share a meaningful look, and after a brief second, Adrien nods, shyly smiling at the mermaid. “Don’t mind if I dew,” he replies. “Come on, I’ll shoal you around!”

Terrible. Terrible. Terribly cute.

Marinette nods, and they begin to go around the set. Adrien’s a great guide, and he easily navigates through the venue to show and explain to her the different tasks that are being done. (She’s trying to listen, really: but it’s much more interesting to watch him animatedly talk about something he evidently enjoys.)

Only because he’s being a good friend to her, of course.

.

.

“How have you never listened to Jagged Stone?!” Adrien’s clearly in shock, and she has to stop herself from laughing. “Who hasn’t even heard of Jagged Stone?!”

After some time going around, they take a break in a more quiet part of the stage area. And after a lengthy conversation about the concert, she’d accidentally exposed what Adrien had kindly called ‘the greatest sin of all time’.

“It’s not like we have Jagged Stone underwater!”

“But you’ve been on land for a month,” he rebuts, shaking his head. “There is no excuse that you haven't listened to the greatest musician of all time.”

“He’s human, he can’t be that great.” Marinette pauses, then rolls her eyes. “Besides, I think you’re being a little dramatic.” 

“And I think you’re not making the most of your time here,” Adrien argues. “Come on, you’re stuck with us humans for a year. You might as whale make the most of it, and give us a chance.”

(Marinette catches the pun, but she ultimately decides to ignore it.)

“I am making the most of it!”

“Really? So what have you done in your first month here?” She’s about to protest, and he continues. “Aside from this concert. Which Nino and Alya basically had to corner you to go to.”

Marinette pauses, then audibly hmphs, knowing she’d been caught.

“I’m just saying,” Adrien points out. “Not all humans or human-related things are inherently bad. Some of what we do is pretty cool.”

“Sure,” she replies dryly. “Like toxic oil spills, trash pollution, dynamite fishing, coral mining, canal-digging and dam-building… need I go on?”

“I mean, of course those things are bad— but you can’t just use that as a reason to hate on all land mammals as a whole,” he explains, then pauses briefly. “Though I do get the feeling of wanting to throw those kinds of people into the ocean. And if you ever do meet them, don’t worry; I’ll be your willing partner in coralime.”

Marinette feels her lips curve into a smile, and nods. “That was pretty awful.”

“It still made you smile, though.”

Can’t argue with that.

Then she takes a moment to think about the rest of his points, as her eyes wander off to the humans busily walking around her— seeing them working together to make something a reality. And she spares a moment to look at Adrien, who continues to prove that everything she’s ever known about humans was wrong.

(For the first time, maybe since ever, she doesn’t quite mind being the only mermaid in the room.)

The lights suddenly flash around them, and Marinette subconsciously grabs his arm in surprise.

He laughs. “Don’t worry, that just means the show’s about to start,” Adrien explains, before standing up. “Come on, let’s go and support Nino.”

Marinette prepares to let go of his arm, but he easily manoeuvres it in a way that they end up holding hands.

They’re holding hands.

He… they… 

?!!!?!?!??!

“What are you just standing around for?” He asks, smiling as she dumbly looks at their interlocked fingers.

“I— just— I— uh.”

His hands are warm, but the good kind: the kind that makes her want to melt in the absolute best way possible.

Adrien gently pulls her forward, the same expression on his face; something she can’t exactly describe, but is definitely two things: (1) something she’s never felt before, and (2) something she wants to keep feeling forever.

They walk together to meet up with Alya, and are consequently guided to a stage area where they’re able to watch the rest of the concert.

Alya looks at their linked hands, then stares at Marinette in a half-victory and half-I-told-you-so expression. 

She pointedly ignores it, and decides to try and enjoy herself.

Nino is wonderful. He plays a beat that reminds her of ocean sounds, and she can’t help but miss home with it.

When Jagged Stone comes on to perform, Marinette immediately pins his personality down to be loud and chaotic and nothing short of intense— playing something that mermaids would objectively call as nothing but absolute noise.

As he continues to beat down on his guitar and scream, however, Marinette begins to think that maybe she likes it.

She watches Alya and Adrien excitedly screaming back, with the former documenting the whole event on her phone. Adrien pauses to look at her upon noticing her gaze, offering one of the brightest grins she’s ever seen him give.

She’s wrong.

Marinette likes it a lot, actually.

[cooolvibe]

an excerpt about a love story from a girl whose heart got broken.

hello, just thought i’d share this in hopes that there are people out there who have gotten their hearts broken, but never got the closure they wished.

it all started one summer, going through dating apps and just swiping my way through what it seemed like just another night where i would swipe right on men who i find attractive. not looking for anything serious, but just because summer started and might as well have some fun right? made a match, with an individual who happened to go to the same high school as me. i remembered who he was, as i had multiple classes with him. realizing how we all “glow up” from our awkward and fetus high school stage, we had matched. im assuming since we had matched, he had obviously found some part of me attractive or appealing. he messaged me, saying it was long time no see. we hit it off, messaging every day, and he happened to be a really nice person to talk to. about a month went by, i finally got the courage to ask him to hang out (personally, i did not think our talking stage would last, as i did not think i would become more interested in this man). we did, and it was so nerve-wrecking. it wasn’t just meeting some random stranger, it was meeting an individual who i had “known” or “existed” for roughly ten years, but never had a conversation other than “did you do the homework?” me, being so nervous to meet this man, decided to bring my friends over a couple hours before i was supposed to meet him and get me a little drunk (because that is the PERFECT excuse to sound flirty and stupid, right?) we hang out late at night, talk for HOURS, obviously leading into making out and hooking up. i assumed this was going to happen (as i wanted it to), but i had thought that if we hooked up, it would just lead into the “friends with benefits” zone and would not continue any further. however, i was leaving for japan about a week after we hung out, so we met up a couple more times before i left. my month long stay in japan would determine whether i truly had feelings for this person, or it would die off. he tells me to be safe, and i clearly remember the one thing he said to me before i parted with him on our last hangout, and it was “there aren’t any cute guys over there, right?” clearly, i blushed, as in my head i thought that was the most adorable thing any man has ever said to me. i am in japan, and we text basically everyday, and he would call me every weekend. i told him he didn’t have to call me if the time zone was too much for him (los angeles and tokyo is about a 16 hour difference), but he would still call, saying he would want to hear my voice. about half way through my stay in japan, my best friend who was back in la texted me she and her bae are finally official, realizing, am i starting to have feelings for this person? the time comes where i come back to la, and we meet up on campus on the very first day of school (we also happened to go to the same university, crazy right? did not even know). the week i came back, school had started but i also had a vegas trip planned that weekend. he couldn’t go, but told me to have fun because it was for my 21st. some rough things happened that weekend which later became a pinnacle fallout of some close friends of mine, but this man had gave me hope in continuing to look forward to life. we started becoming exclusive, eventually dating, eventually him becoming my boyfriend. we went on countless dates, got drunk together multiple times, even went to a festival together and did some questionable things (sry mom), but i had never been more happy in my life to have a boyfriend. i adored him so much, and all of my friends could see it as well. our fourth year in college, my friends had never seen me this happy with a person to call mine. i had never taken relationships seriously, as i have had trust issues ever since my years in high school after an experience that still haunts me to this day. my friends would tell me the way he looked at me was like nothing they had ever seen, and he truly loved to be with me and adored my presence. the name callings like “babe” and “baby” had become second nature, as i truly, for once, had a special someone to call my home. however, this had all ended when one day, we scheduled to meet up at starbucks to do homework like we always do. he would usually pick me up, and vise versa, but this particular day he said he would meet me there as he had errands to run. not thinking anything of it, i told him i would meet him there. it was that moment, where i saw him in the parking lot, not realizing that was the last kiss i would ever give him. he broke up with me, saying he couldn’t continue anymore. confused beyond wonder, i asked if we could talk about it, but he refused saying there was nothing more to talk about. that night, i couldn’t even cry as i was confused more than sad. i called my close friend, and i went to her house. we talked, and then i called my best friend and went to her house. she assured that there was most likely something that happened to him personally that he just could not tell you about. trying to believe that he would come back, i texted him asking if there was something he needed to talk about i will always be here, that i did not want to give up on us so easily. he assured me he was fine, as he just simply did not have feelings for me anymore. the day after our breakup is when it all hit me at once, as i could not stop crying. days on end i would wake up sobbing, and cry myself to sleep. anyone who would ask if i was okay, i would immediately break down into tears. in this moment, i had experienced my true first heart break. especially at an age of 21, i am an adult, and i did not believe our romance was a “high school sweetheart romcom.” i was truly devastated, heartbroken, confused, depressed, and over all shattered. my friends were amazing and comforted me, but there was still a scar in my heart that could not heal. unfortunately, i had gone out with friends that weekend and got insanely drunk that my phone got stolen too. (ladies, please be aware when you are drinking your sorrows away, it really does happen in times like this). what was the most conflicting was that since the time we had talked, to the point of our breakup was only roughly six months. however, one of my other closest friends reassured me that,  “time does not measure the love you guys had. it could have been 6 years, and some people will still become heartbroken. whatever bond the two of you created was real, and everyone, including yourself knows that.” those next couple of months were ridiculously rough. having to go back to a life where i had to wake up every morning knowing he isn’t to call my home, or my own anymore. however, as time went by, it became gradually easier to not think of him. despite never getting the closure i wanted, i was slowly able to forgive myself of guilt, as stop asking myself “if i was ever enough.” at the beginning of the breakup, i would constantly question myself whether he truly loved me or not. however, as time went on, i started to believe that he really did make an effort to love me, and be with me, and make me happy. flash forward to the day i am writing this, which is roughly a year since the time that marks the start of our beautiful relationship, and about half a year since the tragedy that has changed to the person i am now. i will say i am not 100% fully over him, however, time has truly taken effect in the healing process. i would not be able to tell my past self i am doing this well right now. my past self would definitely not have believed me. maybe i will never get over him truly, as he will always have a special place in my heart no matter what. he is the man who opened a new door in my life, and created a new chapter of my life with me. i stumbled upon a side of me that i never knew even existed, and i will forever cherish the memories i spent with him. despite not being with him anymore, i truly wish he accomplishes all the dreams he told me about, and finds happiness and love again. i know that one day, he is going to make someone feel like the most luckiest and happiest girl in the world, as thats how he made me feel, and i can not thank him enough for the seemingly beautiful experience of a relationship i got with him.

for what i learned: despite not getting the closure i wanted, i was able to accept the reality in which i had faced. do not wish bad things upon someone you would give your world to. because, before the relationship ended, you know that you were falling in love and wished this love would never end. despite love failing, you will learn to love again. a broken heart truly is painful, as i have felt it. emotionally and physically, a broken heart aches. rather than viewing the relationship in a negative way, view it as a learning experience, an aspect of growing as an individual. you learned what you want in a person, and now you know how you act with your significant other. those memories you created, despite them being in the past, will always be a chapter of your life. you are blessed to feel these emotions, but they do not attach to a single soul. the construct of love can be held among different individuals. i know its hard to believe that you will never love again, but i promise, you will find that ray of sunshine and happiness in another person. it will take time, and the road to recovery will be painful. as if you’re picking up broken pieces of an object and slowly trying to put it back together, but you will find another way to mold it back. you will heal, you will find happiness, and you will love again. time heals all, and never lose hope in finding love. there is going to be someone out there who will love you just as much as the person you’re trying to forget did. you will then realize that you have made it, you have truly healed, and becoming a person you thought that could never cease to exist.

[golgoterror]

Alright, this is ungodly long, but I just wanted to talk about something regarding Jake. 

A lot of this fandom -- at least, from what I’ve seen -- label Jake as stupid. Some may even say Jake and smart are antonyms. This could not be further from the truth. It almost irritates me how much the fandom places this mischaracterization on him. Also, I get to talk about The Lad™ for about ten pages worth of words on Google docs, which is always very, very fun for me.

Well, first things first, let’s talk about the child genius and multi-billionaire polymath that is Jake English.

Puzzle Modus.

Let’s begin with something small. Jake’s modus is of puzzlekind! This is described as:

It's quite a handy modus, allowing you to captchalogue objects of any size, as long as you can fit them all in a finite space by maneuvering the cards around like a big game of Tetris. You like it because it keeps you sharp for solving any puzzles you might find when you go out raiding hallowed tombs, which is never. (x)

He likes puzzles! This is a huge headcanon I absolutely adore that has a basis in the comic: He’s a puzzles guy! This is just sort of a neat little fact about him that I adore to the moon and back. Just the idea of Jake fiddling about with a Rubik’s Cube is kind of adorable.

This is how he goes about doing everything every day of his life. I think that’s just amazing! And incredibly smart of him, I might add.

Skaianet. 

Jake is shown in the credits to take over Skaianet after the game ended. For those unfamiliar, Skaianet made many things for the game, including but not limited to: the interstellar travel we see, transportalizers, the lab by Rose’s house, all Jake’s fancy-schmancy computers, and Sburb itself. In the beta timeline, Grandpa Harley founded Skaianet. In the alpha timeline, Grandma English did. I know Jake didn’t start it up and trying to pass off his alt-timeline self as him is a bit far-fetched at best, but he had the spoons to take it over. I think that speaks volumes for Jake’s intelligence -- this implies, at the very least, he can understand mathematics and physics at a high level. Remind you of someone we already know?

It is also important to note that Jake does, in fact, build the company back from the ground up, because it went to shit before his grandmother died:

GT: Pretty sure her company made a tidy fortune til it went belly up. At least i still have a few of her knickknacks for keepsakes. (x)

So he built an interstellar company back up -- using what his intelligent grandmother had once used -- to being very useful and practical once again. 

As someone with a degree in mathematics and about to finish a degree in physics, I can say this sort of work would for sure require at the very least a decent understanding of quantum mechanics, statistical mechanics, electrodynamics, calculus (vector and differential forms), ordinary and partial differential equations, and perhaps other things like topology. I don’t know about you -- and I’m probably tooting my own horn a bit by saying this -- but I think that’s pretty nifty, if I do say so myself. 

Actor.

Once again, I’m reaching into the credits to show that Jake has become a movie star after the game ends. Memorizing all those lines, slipping into characters... Being an actor is no easy feat. 

( Side note: This leads into my headcanon that Jake can imitate accents and voices on a whim. No more arguing about whether he has a British, American, or Australian accent -- you’re all right! )

And I would like to add he has two jobs! Skaianet and being a movie star! This guy’s a fucking polymath for Christ’s sake.

Reading People.

Let’s start of simple: Brain Ghost Dirk. I can hear the outcries now of Dirk’s powers being the cause for this. And, yes, I can’t ignore Dirk’s influence in this, but Jake’s hope powers were also needed for the projection to come alive. And the fact he was able to make such a startlingly accurate projecting of Dirk in his own mind is astounding -- even BGD himself thinks so!

TT: You could view me as a projection of the real Dirk within your mind, as expressed through all of your thought patterns about him. TT: So I'm kind of a splinter of his corporeal self who happens to live in your awareness. TT: I'm a startlingly close approximation to the real thing, for all intents and purposes. GT: Just how startlingly close are we talking? TT: I'm not going to give you a bogus percentage like the glasses cause that's not my shtick. TT: But pretty damn close. (x)

A very deep understanding of the other is needed for Jake to do this. That is pretty fucking incredible. He can clearly read people really well -- he had a few times where he was cluing in on Jane and Dirk have feelings for him:

TG: its one of those things jane likes about u so much GT: It is? TG: which TG: errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr im not supposed to talk about 2 u evr so nm GT: Talk about what? TG: nope GT: You mean how um... GT: Well a way in which i suppose... TG: no nope GT: Jane is prone to looking upon me with what i fathom to be more than just friendly affection? (x)

TT: I guess call it an extra birthday present. But instead of a present that's awesome, consider it more like a weird confession that may change the way you feel about me. GT: Whoa uh... GT: Dirk are you... uh... GT: Saying what i think? (x)

He’s not completely clueless on people! In fact, he seems to have a really good understanding of his friends. That’s something a lot of people seem to forget because of the incident that I will be getting to later on.

Fending For Himself.

I’ve already written quite a bit on this, but I’ll sum it up here: Jake is exceptionally good at living in the wild and taking care of himself. Sort of like a wild garden; he doesn’t need to be taken care of. Survival skills, especially around fighting and fending off things, aren’t something everyone has. This, once again, counts in his favour, even if it doesn’t line-up with “book smarts”.

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That’s five things! It’s clear Jake is, in fact, a polymath and incredibly intelligent. So, what’s with the fandom painting him as being dumb? What’s with people actually thinking he’s stupid? I think we can all take several wild guesses as to why that’s the case.

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Takes things literally.

This is something that plagues Jake quite a lot. Case in point:

GT: Wow like the epic kevin costner film? TT: Almost exactly. Especially by the same degree of shittiness. GT: Oh man does that mean you have to drink your own pee?????? TT: You get used to the taste. Welcome it, even. TT: That takes about 15 days in a row of hard piss drinking though. GT: Ewwwwwwwwwwww no dude. No ew. :( TT: Relax, I don't drink any goddamn piss, ok? GT: Oh ok. Whew. (x)

But, well, let’s address the elephant in the room. The chat I laughed so hard at when I read it the first time due to pure, unadulterated second-hand embarrassment: Jake asking Jane if she had feelings for him.

Let’s analyze this, shall we? Jake starts off by being vague as all Hell, and I’ll spare those details, until finally...

GT: Just come out and say it. Do you fancy me? GG: No! GT: I see. GT: Very well then. GT: Jeez i mustve really misread that one! I feel like kind of a bone head now. (x / x)

Okay, she says no, and he backs off. That’s fine and dand--

GG: No!!!!!! GG: Oh my God, what am I saying here? GG: Jake, I didn't mean it! I didn't want to make you feel that way! GT: Now jane lets not backpedal here. GT: Youve spoken the truth and i greatly appreciate and respect you for that. GT: But now that i think about it you know what? GG: ... GG: No? :( GT: Please dont take this the wrong way but your answer is actually kind of a relief! (x)

... Oh, right. Yeah. It keeps going. It just keeps--

GT: Actually since youve made your feelings apparent and only see me as a friend that makes it a lot easier! GG: Haha, yes! GG: Friends!!!! GT: Maybe you could help me sort out some stuff that has been weighing on me lately? GG: Well what are friends for Jake!!!!! (x)

Sweet Jesus, Jake.

GG: Me? GG: HOO HOO HOO! GG: I'm just GG: Terrific! GG: I'm feeling so... GG: Friendly!!! GG: I clearly just want to be a good friend and bring all my AMAZING FRIENDLINESS to bear on your problems. GG: Friendlystyle! Ahahahah? GG: Shit I mean GG: Ahahahah! GT: Thats aces. Jane youre a sweetheart. (x)

Alright, alright, enough! You all remember the fucking chat. 

Regardless, it’s very apparent Jake takes things at face value. I also will cite him talking to Jane before her birthday, but not list examples, because what happened above will just happen once again. 

Okay, so he takes things at face value. What’s wrong with that? He trusts people to not lie to his face -- to not sugarcoat things or beat around any bushes. Perhaps I’m projecting a bit, but I do the same damn thing. I think a lot of people do! I don’t think reading things as fact over text is a good measure of someone’s intellect. All it does is show he has issues with communication. Okay, so he struggles with one thing. Sue me.

Doesn’t catch things right away.

Yeah okay I’m just gonna dump a few examples of this.

GT: Haha wow. Must have been a hell of a guy. TT: So... TT: You're not making any connections there? GT: Where? Huh? TT: Famous comedian, about the age of your grandma, inheriting the family name of the Baroness... TT: Not ringing a bell? GT: What are you talking about! Dirk stop speaking in riddles and keep telling the story i am on tenterhooks here! TT: Ok, well it's not like it's that important. Just a super obvious thing that'll probably occur to you later when you're looking in the fridge you don't have, at which point you'll feel like an idiot. GT: Oh my god you can be one opaque motherfucker just clue me in bro! TT: Nah, it'll be funnier this way. GT: STRIIIIIIDEEEERRRRRRRR!!!!! TT: Moving on. (x)

GT: Whats going on? TT: Took you long enough to figure it out. TT: Pages really are a slow burning class. Damn. GT: Figure what out! TT: You're asleep. (x)

This leads into the point above. His mind doesn’t work that way -- but that doesn’t mean he’s not intelligent. He needs everything laid out in front of him so he can make the connections and understand what’s happening, but there’s no real harm in this, and it certainly doesn’t dictate whether the guy is “intelligent” or not.

There are many, many more examples in canon depicting Jake as having difficulties with communication and you all can open most of his pesterlogs and probably find one. I’m not going to list anymore. But, hold your horses, I swear I’m getting to a point!

Difficulty reading.

A lot of the media Jake consumes is picture-based. Movies, comics, even the puzzles are most likely spacial and probably not riddles. It’s not far to imagine Jake might not be a terribly good reader, considering nobody was really around to make him read. Of course, his grandmother was around when he was little, so he can read -- and he can read just fine. But he probably isn’t very good at it simply from lack of practice. He also has terrible grammar, something Jane picks on him for, so it’s entirely possible that’s a contributing factor. He may just have trouble reading and writing.

Speaking from experience, I have dyslexia. As such, reading and writing are incredibly hard for me. I never read the books in my literature classes -- both in English and French -- but I did get the gist of the books (enough to get a decent mark in the class at least) by watching a movie adaptation of the novel. I don’t think it’s that far-off to think Jake may, indeed, do the same thing.

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NOTE: This next part is a bit hard for me to write, because I don’t want to vilify any of you. It might not have clued in on anyone or maybe you just saw Jake as a sort of comic relief and meant no harm by it. And I hope shining a light on this will make you all think twice about the guy. However, I can’t really avoid this next part, and I may get a bit emotional in it. Just a bit of a warning.

All of the above points are just me trying to say Jake probably has undiagnosed learning disabilities and perhaps autism. I don’t think I need to go into detail about how those don’t make someone “stupid”. If you think that’s the case, fuck you. I can’t argue with ableists, much less do I actually want to. 

NOTE: I wrote a thing on his speech impediments. That may be of interest too. I don’t really know, but here it is nonetheless.

My take-away message here is: just because someone struggles with socialization or other things doesn’t mean fucking anything in terms of their intelligence. Jake is very clearly smart and has the ability to read people incredibly well -- to the point of making copies of them! Perhaps it’s just a bit easy to underestimate the guy compared to other characters, though.

There are other things that muddy this up a bit, unfortunately.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Trolling.

Jake is such a fucking troll. Jesus shitting Christ, does he get a kick out of acting stupid just to make the other person look silly. Or perhaps even to make himself laugh in the process. Case in point:

uu: I WILL JUST BE YOUR PATRON DUDE. uu: OR MAYBE. YOUR PATRON MANBRO. GT: Sounds pretty gay. uu: WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? GT: Whats what? uu: GAY. WHAT'S GAY YOU IDIOT FUCK. GT: Oh right. GT: Forgive me i forget you arent familiar with all of my earth lingo. GT: Its like... GT: How do i explain. GT: You know. Its a rather old fashioned term for being jolly and festive together. GT: Like "that rollicking time we had scrumming the other eve sure was gay." uu: I SEE. uu: THEN YES. YOU ARE CORRECT. uu: THIS IS GOING TO BE GAY AS HELL. (x)

Look at his goddamn face during this exchange:

That little bastard knows exactly what he’s doing. 

And these aren’t stand-alone events! Jake is very, very silly and will use the fact others see him as stupid to have a little fun. May as well, right? And, in the process, he makes others look pretty damn stupid. 

But sometimes it’s a bit hard to tell when he’s acting stupid against when he’s genuinely not getting something. I think he even fools himself sometimes! So you have to be a bit careful about fake-outs. I’m sure even the other alphas have trouble deducing when he’s doing this -- which only adds to the myth of him actually being “stupid” when viewed on first-glace.

He probably also does this with crushes, purposefully ignoring the signs because he doesn’t want to deal with it or may not believe anyone could like him that way. After all, if he’s wrong, he may think himself to be conceded and having a big head. So, he ignores the signs, thus convincing himself the feelings aren’t there. Then he gets absolutely fucking bamboozled beyond belief to find out they actually do like him. But that’s just a little side-note.

Thinks he’s stupid.

This one is just a bit... Sad. Very sad. Jake genuinely does think he’s stupid. Quite a lot, really. 

GT: I shoulda asked where he fit into the picture if you were raised alone. I can be dumb as a bag of penny candy sometimes. (x)

Just... Man, he’s been called and treated as stupid so many times, he’s at the point where he believes it. If you asked him, he’d say Dirk is a genius, Roxy is always smart and sassy, and Jane is brilliant. (I don’t have a source for that last one but... Come on. She lectures him about grammar. Don’t fuck with me.) But when it comes to himself? He can’t say the same. Of course he then acts that way. He sees himself as a burly adventurer who is also a gentleman and tries to live up to that. No where along those lines does he think he’s intelligent. And that’s just... a little heartbreaking, really, all things considered.

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Can’t believe this blog is just me going, “Wanna see how fast I can talk about Jake?”, and a shit-ton of people all nodding before I talk for six hours straight. Anyway, take-home message is: Jake’s smart. Jake’s very, very smart. He’s also a himbo, but he’s incredibly smart. Just because he has learning disabilities doesn’t mean fuck-all. 

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. There are drinks and refreshments in the back. Have a safe trip home. Remember to tip your waiters and waitresses. Jesus fuck can I run this gag any harder into the ground? Giving me language was a mistake. No but, really, if you read this whole damn thing, thank you! I hope this was as fun to read as it was to write.

[coastalhorrors]

Okay, Well Thats Not Good

RECIPIENT #32 FROM THE @oumasaiexchange IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. I hope I wrote this well enough for your liking, again I am so Very sorry. 

Words: 1,876

“Hey Cockichi, stop daydreaming of pegging that lame excuse for a detective and help us with this project.”

Kokichi glared at Miu, dodging her foot from under the table. “What the hell do you idiots need help with now?”

“We're missing a piece”, Tsumugi said digging through a box of screws and bolts. “Well, not so much missing, just already been used.” She tipped the box over, spilling the contents all over the carpeted floor and herself, searching for the piece. Failing to find it ultimately.

Rantaro peaked over her shoulder, picking lightly through the pieces, “We'll also need a few of the larger screws, the base cant handle support with only the small ones.”

“Okay yeah, but I can't just pull screws out of my ass y'know.” Kokichi replied. Miu turned back to him, and if dropping hot coffee on yourself could be conveyed in a single expression, she was succeeding immensely.

“You're gonna have to go down to my workshop, there are more screws in there.”

Tsumugi looked up from her pile of bolts and screws, “Grab another screwdriver too please, Rantaro’s hogging the last one.” Rantaro flicked one of the screws he was messing with towards her in response, sticking his tongue out but keeping his face emotionless.

That was the last he saw of there conversation before he was pushed out of the Ultimate Adventurers room with Miu's keys in hand. He stood there for a second and rolled his eyes, slowly slothing his way to the workshop.

Miu's workshop was below all the main dorm levels, very much relatable to a basement, so much in fact if you include the useless junk that lined the many shelves and the weird molding smell. He twirled the keys in his hand as he made his way down the stairs, the lights illuminating the ceilings, dimming as he got lower and lower.

The cold, grey door came into view and he readied the keys to unlock it, stopping the spinning and suddenly, everything was happening at once.

The keys flew from his loose grip, up towards the dim flickering light above, completely shattering the glass. He raised his arms up quickly as dust and shattered glass rained from above him, some of the glass fell straight onto his exposed hands and broke the skin, leaving a heavy stinging sensation and tiny blood splotches.

‘Fuck’, he thought, bringing his hands down to witness the damage done to his body, only to come face to face with nothing. Of course, he had smashed the light. He mentally smacked himself.

Kokichi was at a loss for what to do next, there was no light, which meant he wouldn't be able to find the keys to Miu's workshop, which meant he wouldn't be able to turn on that light, and even if he did find the keys, he doubted it'd go without any harm done to him with all the glass staining the floor.

He moved his hands in front of him experimentally, reaching towards the staircase railing. Stepping forward slightly, he was glad he had his shoes on before he was kicked out of Rantaro’s room. The glass crunched under him as he made his way towards what he hoped was the direction of the stairs, waving his hands around. He finally felt the lumpy rounded shape of the rail and lifted his foot, setting it down on a stair.

Kokichi let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and stepped up again. It was a slow process, making his way up the stairs towards some sort of light.

‘Probably shouldn't be dragging my hand over this dirty thing,’ he thought, slowly stepping again, he'd probably get some sort of disease, who knows when the last time this stairwell was cleaned.

A light finally appeared at the top of the stairs, near the peak of the doorway. Letting go of the rail he took a larger step up the stairs and another, and then another one. Reaching the door he swung it open and stepped into the bright hallway. He squinted at the harsh light hitting his face, raising a hand to shield his eyes.     

A soft familiar voice came from down the hallway, and he cursed himself.  “Kokichi? What're you doing down here?” He lowered his hand a bit, hiding it at an angle behind him, the last thing he needed right now was to be coddled by the person he'd probably wanted to see the least of right now.

“Oh Shuichi, I can't believe you caught me! I'm afraid I can't tell you what I'm up to you see, it's top secret.” He put a finger to his lips with his other hand, placing a grin on his face.

Shuichi cocked his head, his slumpy hair falling over his face in a way that made Kokichi’s heart stutter and his smile falter.

“What's that? Behind your back I mean.” Shuichi pointed towards his hidden arm, attempting to peer over Kokichi’s shoulder to see what he was hiding, stepping forward a little to get a better look.

Kokichi set his hand down by his side and dropped his smile, stepping back, he could feel the hand behind him pulsing with pain as he moved. He probably shouldn't have done that, the slumpy haired boy in front of him raised an eyebrow. Experimentally, he stepped forward again.

Maybe he'd go away if he just kept stepping back. He thought, or maybe he'd reach the end of the hallway and would be able to run away to the other side. He stepped back again. Shuichi stepped forward. Back. Forward. Back. Forward. Back and then back again. Dead end. Stupid school with its idiotic layout.

A small, hollow space found itself fitting uncomfortable between the two boys, as they paused for a moment. Shuichi's face was contorted, eyebrows scrunched together and worried eyes staring straight into him. Kokichi wished he could be anywhere else right now, anywhere else but in front of the person who made his heart quit its job. He tried moving a bit to the side and hissed violently when his injured hand scraped the solid wall.

That seemed to be too much for Shuichi. His worried gaze turned concentrated in a millisecond, going from straight staring to intent searching. “Kokichi…”, he said carefully, there was a slight warning in his tone. It made him panic. Voice laced with silk and venom, Kokichi didn't know what else to do. He seemed at a loss this time. He delicately moved his hand out from behind his back and into the open.

Shuichi gasped upon seeing his hand, eyes trained on it carefully, memorizing every cut and scrape disturbing his ghostly white skin. He reached out carefully, grazing his pale skin, then, with both hands lightly pulling his wrist closer so he could see. Kokichi wrinkled his nose and grimaced, peering through half-shut eyes down at his injured hand.

It was easy to see the damage that had been done, broken skin spidering across the pale surface, like shattered ice on top of a seemingly endless pond. Shuichi seemed to be entranced by the thin strands, watching intensely as a red drop of blood trailed down his thumb and falling to the greyscale floor.

Shuichi spoke slowly but carefully, he like that about Shuichi; always considering things. “What… happened?” His grip tightened around his wrist just a little.

“Funny story actually! I uh…” Nothing came to him, “Broke a lightbulb!” Fuck. Shuichi's eyes widened. He probably wasn't expecting the truth from him this time.

“Come with me.”  He said gently but sternly pulling Kokichi’s hand along. Kokichi followed obediently and almost immediately became aware of how close they were. He tripped over his feet as soon as he thought that. Shuichi was practically holding his hand! ‘Oh god, Shuichi is holding my hand. He's holding my hand and taking me somewhere.’ Part of him hoped they were going to a secret place, somewhere far away from everyone else.

But no, he knew they were probably going to the office or to the bathroom to clean up his cuts. He felt a pang of disappointment in his chest just thinking about that. Suddenly Shuichi stopped and he fell straight into his back. A scent of peppermint and coffee filled Kokichi’s senses, and if he were religious, he could've sworn that this was heaven. But he was soon pulled out of his pseudo comatose state and brought back to reality.

He heard a door click open and was dragged into what was probably paradise for a teachers' pet. ‘Or, he thought, a detective.’ Open books and various loose papers were thrown haphazardly across nearly every surface in the small room, which he now realized as a dorm room. Shuichi's room to be exact.

Quickly, he was pulled onto a messy blanketed bed and was told to stay there while Shuichi grabbed some first aid supplies. Kokichi got the chance to look around a little more. He could see pen markings and scribbly markings on thick packets full of what he assumed to be case reports or assorted assignments. There were small scratches on the walls, looking to be from thrown objects. Kokichi never knew Shuichi to be an angry person, but he guessed Kaito does come around from time to time.

Kokichi was thrown out his thoughts when Shuichi came back and sat on the bed next to him, bandages and other nursing objects in hand. He got started on his hand, rolling bandage,  over bandage, so calmly it was almost mesmerizing. Kokichi hadn't noticed how much his hand seemed to miss the other boys until they were reunited, they seemed to fit so well together, they could fit so well together.

Kokichi felt his face heat up and his hand twitch. “Hold still.” Shuichi said, shifting to get a better grip on his hand. Kokichi mumbled a half-hearted sorry, his face still a peachy shade. As Shuichi bandaged him up and cleaned his small wounds, Kokichi found himself getting drowsy, there was something so calming about Shuichi that just put him at ease.

He didn't remember falling asleep. All Kokichi knew was that he never wanted to leave the warmth that was enveloping him right now. He took a few deep breaths, taking the moment in stride and smelt something familiar. He was surrounded by ground coffee and the welcoming scent of mint leaves.

Wait.

Kokichi’s eyes shot wide open, but he couldn't see. His eyes were obstructed by something fluffy and black. The hair moved and he saw a patch of pale skin under it, along with a set of closed eyes. ‘Shuichi,’ he thought, ‘oh my god I'm in Shuichi's bed.’ That got him going.

Kokichi attempted to get out from under the arm thrown over his waist, shimmying out shaking. Shuichi mumbled something in his sleep, that made him stop and pause. He looked over at the peaceful looking boy. Black hair strewn about all over his face, framing it like the night sky. It frustrated him to no end, how beautiful the boy he had fallen for was. He frowned

Miu's screws could wait, sleeping a little longer was what mattered now

[promiseimnotacop]

let's go about this a different way: pick your fave ten questions from the trans journey ask game and answer them!

bold of you to assume I’ve ever managed to make a decision in my life. also warning this gonna be looooooong

from this ask game

1. How did you choose your name? 

so I’ve always been interested in names and a couple years before i ever came out to anyone I asked my mum casually if there were any other names she’d considered giving me. She said that Finn or Finnbar were up there had I “”been born a boy”” and so I latched on to that. It worked pretty well for me because I wanted something that felt like an equivalent exchange for my birthname and that I didn’t associate strongly with a particular individual and I’d never had a Finn in my year at school so that was all hunky dory. Took me a while longer to figure out middle names (because my birthname has two middle names and it’s sort of a tradition on my dad’s side so I wanted to have those). 

There was a hot minute when I considered calling myself “Hugo Finn” which I’m so glad I didn’t, not that it is objectively a bad name, but because my reasoning was erm....bad. It was at a time when I had a lot of internalised self hatred/disgust and the name Hugo I first came across and associated heavily with the morally ambiguous “freak” from ASOUE. At the time I thought using a name I associated so heavily with the word freak was a way of subverting negative feelings but tbh it wasn’t. I’m so glad I didn’t tether myself that negativity. 

Also fun fact, my birthname is Shakespearean protagonist who spends most of the play dressed as a boy so again for a hot second I considered using the name she does, Fidele, but I wasn’t about having a super conspicuously uncommon name. 

For middle names in the end I went for James Lee (though nothing is legal or set in stone feedback and opinions are welcome lol). Lee came first, after the river in my village that I have a lot of postive memories associated with, outside of all the gender bullshit. The problem then became that the name “Finn Lee” would sound like/get mistaken for “Finley” and “Finnbar Lee” would sound like “Finn Barley” which would be eccentric and confusing. So it needed a buffer. In the end I went for James, partly because the first middle name of my given name is a saint, but mostly because James can be Jim and that allows for some of my childhood nicknames (im jim jam, imbo jimbo) to sort of still apply. that was a long answer to a short question lol but I spent a lot of time thinking about this because for some reason I felt  like I couldn’t come out until I’d already settled on a full name. 

3. Do you have more physical dysphoria or more social dysphoria?

I don’t think they’re separable. I have dysphoria about my body but it is because of societal perceptions of my body

8. How would you explain your gender identity to others?

depends on how savvy that person is to trans jargon honestly. The best, if clunky, label I’ve found for my gender is “transmasculine non-binary” which is two different quite broad umbrella terms lol. I like the looseness of it. For me personally, it means that the framework of masculinity and maleness is not an exact fit and does not cover some of the complexities of my gender but, in my daily interactions it is a close enough approximation and I do desire to pursue parts of what might be considered a “trans masculine” medical transition. For the most part masculine coded language (including he/him pronouns) is what suits me the best, with only a few particular exceptions. So, for most of the world I am functionally “a man” (even though that is one of the few bits of masculine coded language I don’t gel with), or maybe “a gender non-conforming man” and I am not gonna split hairs about that if we aren’t close. 

But if we’re seriously getting into a chat about gender there’s a lot more to be said. If drawing a diagram of my gender I would say I’m about 55% male, 30% “other”/third gender/maverique/genderqueer/whatever you want to call a gender identity autonomous and seperate from male or female, and 15% nothing/void. And all of that is subject to fluctuate a bit and which parts I might connect with most can be slightly contextual. I am more “a man” than anything else but also pretending to be a binary man is cutting out a significant part. 

12. Do you pass?

Let’s unpack the most Problematique question lol. Just kidding. It is important to acknowledge how “passing” or not effects daily safety/experiences but....god can we not use that word? Can that not be the agreed upon term? The implication that you are otherwise “failing”? The way in which it is incredibly difficult to apply to no-binary people? The way it does not acknowledge the nuances and the way that being read as a certain gender can be conditional? 

I prefer to use the terms “read as” because it allows for more nuanced discussion, does not have moralistic implications, puts the onus on the people viewing - not the individual being viewed and is kinda intuitive to understand.

To answer the question though? For the most part (like maybe 80% of the time) I am read as male. By no means always, and it is conditional on me following a certain level of gender conformity, but for the most part I interact with the world being addressed as a guy. As someone who is very much pre-t it seems that this alone subverts the standard “trans narrative”. Hell I was mostly read as male for a while before I ever came out. I’ve been corrected and laughed at in the women’s bathrooms. I’ve been harassed for gender nonconformity not in spite of but because I was wearing “girl’s” uniform. I have had fellow trans people assume I was a cis man (on more than one occasion) even when I introduced myself by my very much feminine birthname. I have little kids point blank refuse to believe I am “a girl”. I have had strangers confront and correct my mum for addressing me with she/her pronouns (before I was out). I have had kids yell the T slur at me (before I had begun to learn the invisible rules - which to be totally clear are bullshit -that need to be followed in order to be more consistently and unerringly read as male). I’ve been read as male occasionally in contexts where it was impossible for me to be out (near strangers on holiday whilst using birthname, new teachers and students at a school i’d been at since I was 11 and worn “girl’s uniform” until 16, etc).

It’s by no means always though. Which makes the times I don’t difficult and awkward. The technician on my course refers to me with feminine language but none of my tutors. The other day I tried out wearing eye shadow to class and I guy I bumped into later said that he hadn’t recognised me because it made me look like a girl (cringe). etc.

17. What do you do when you have to go to the bathroom in public?

haha i don’t go. I literally haven’t been to the men’s bathroom (apart from once on holiday) but also i get harassed in the women’s/get directed towards the men’s so.....here’s to hoping I don’t get a UTI lads. Literally been in a public loos once since June (not including holiday abroad) and then i nipped into the disabled one during shark week. 

19. Would you ever go stealth, and if you are stealth, why do you choose to be stealth?

so at the beginning of uni I sort of tried to go stealth to see if I could/if it was comfortable (and by go stealth I mostly mean I just didn’t openly talk about my trans-ness for a while). I didn’t wanna be known as ‘the trans one’ and so i didn’t want to introduce myself with that fact. It fucking sucked would not recommend 0/10. It’s incredibly lonely-making to try and filter your experiences and to not be able to discuss certain issues with anyone irl. 

32. How do you see yourself identifying and presenting in 5 years?

I used to do this thing when I was feeling particularly dysphoric/hopeless where I would draw myself now, and myself in 5 years time. Help construct something to look forward to, and work out what I would sincerely like to wear/express but don’t due to dysphoria. For me I really want to get to a place where I am comfortable in androgyny. I want to grow my hair out without sacrificing being read as male. I want to wear long skirts and crop tops whilst still being read and understood as a guy. I’ve done a lot of self reflection and I don’t think I can get to the place of being comfortable until I have had top surgery and I might also require T (though top surgery is really the necessity for my day to day life). Fingers crossed that will be possible and slightly healed within 5 years but given the NHS it really is not certain. 

39. Is your ideal partner also trans, or do you not have a preference?

T4T is self care. Jk. Honestly probably but that’s not to say a cis person couldn’t be my ideal partner? like at any rate it’s fucking necessary that my partner fully understands/perceives me to not be a woman. They could just be cis and no. 1 ally but in all likeliness they’re probably gonna be trans (particularly given the number trans and/or nb cuties out there)

40. How did/do you manage waiting to transition?

I’m not managing. Send help.

seriously every week I have a break down about how long NHS wait times are.

42. Do you interact with other trans people IRL?

I’m an art student in Brighton. Yes. 

(Also my sibling Sumner is an NB lesbian, and my childhood best friend Hunter is NB). 

Literally going to be one cis person in my house of six next year. 

[yoon-kooks]

Two Tones of a Tabby- pt.I

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Bildungsroman, Idol!Taehyung 

Summary: Upon graduating from university, you embark on your first and last summer adventure to explore the wonders of the world with complete independence before becoming confined to a cubicle when autumn begins. But as fate would have it, a chance encounter with a troubled idol in search of his own kind of freedom threatens the solo aspect of your trip. 

Word Count: 2.4k 

Parts: I II III IV V

A/N: this was supposed to be a lengthy oneshot, but i guess itll be another series instead (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻  and im screaming at myself for being extra enough to write bildungsroman as the genre. it’s basically just a fancy term for coming-of-age and the longest word in my vocabulary LMAO.

T is for Taehyung 

“travel diary entry #1- it’s 5pm, been stuck at incheon since like 6 in the morning and nothing remotely interesting has happened because this is a fucking airport. if there’s one more flight delay, i think i’m going to combust.”

With a sigh, you drop your pen between the first two pages of your journal to reveal a red cover with tiny tigers running across it. The first spontaneous purchase of your vacation is already proving its worth through the countless flight delays you’ve had to endure thus far. Your mother would’ve told the younger version of yourself not to waste money on a journal at an overpriced airport kiosk unless you were going to write in every single page from beginning to end. Maybe you wouldn’t have made use of such a sentimental object as a child, but as time went on, you’ve grown. Besides, no one’s here to stop you and your rash decisions. You’re on your own.

Or so you think.

All at once, a rush of humans and cameras flood the airport walkway that had been otherwise quiet for the past 11 hours. You notice some young folks get up from their seats with their phone cameras ready to get a better view of whoever it is. A celebrity? You’d get up off your ass to check out what the big deal is, but honestly, you have no idea what all the youngsters are into nowadays. Maybe that’s your own fault for paying more attention to your studies and workload than pop culture and current events. So you decide to stay back and eat your slice of pizza that had gone cold as you were busy writing.

Even from afar, you can see the huge moving cluster of people and bombardment of camera flashes. Is that even legal? Does personal space not exist when you’re a celebrity? Do celebrities ever grow tired of not being able to live freely? Those are the thoughts you have as you munch on your dinner.

Mid-bite, you watch as a black mullet pops up from the crowd with a few sleepy waves. You could swear, for just an instant, he makes eye contact with you, the only person sitting that far away from the chaos. His dark eyes reflect something more—something beyond what the rest of his nonchalant body language shows. With half of your pizza hanging out of your mouth, you give him a polite wave with crumby fingers, although you’re sure he had already looked away by then.

And just like that, the airport finds peace once more. You wonder if you should pull out your journal and write another entry about your fateful encounter with an unknown celebrity who accidentally made eye contact with you for 0.3 seconds.

Beep! “Attention: Now boarding, Flight 1230.” You leap off your seat as soon as you hear that your flight hasn’t been delayed for the thousandth time. Checking twice to make sure you aren’t leaving any of your belongings behind, you lug your carry-on bag with you to the boarding area.

Finally, your solo trip has begun.

Once you’re settled into your seat on the plane, you try to remember what the fuck you were thinking about before boarding. Ah yes, your eye contact with Mr. Celebrity. How could you forget?

You dig through your bag and pull out your tiger journal. For a good minute, you just stare at it, having an internal debate on whether or not to waste a page on another dumb event at the airport. Nah. It’s too late now. Maybe if he was a celebrity you knew, your heart would’ve leapt, and only then would it be worth recording into your journal. But you’d rather leave space for memories that perhaps hold more weight to you.

All that remains engraved in your mind from the occurrence are the boy’s eyes. They were fill with darkness as if they were hiding a secret of some sort, and he had awfully beautiful eyelashes that could be seen from a mile away. So for the sake of it, you draw just his eyelashes, which look mildly creepy on their own beneath your entry on the flight delays.

For the rest of the flight, you try to rid yourself of that one instance and get some rest, but for some reason, it’s more difficult than it should be. As much as you’d like to think of yourself as someone with a carefree personality, little things like this actually bug you quite a bit.

Something about the whole thing is unsettling. You aren’t sure if it’s because of the bombardment of cameras, the lack of personal space, the troubled look in the boy’s eyes, or the fact that that was the most action you’d gotten all day. But nonetheless, something just feels off.

Perhaps the only way you’re able to find peace is by telling yourself that there’s nothing you can do about it. The boy doesn’t know you, you don’t know him, and that’s that. You just want to enjoy your trip and not have to worry about anything—especially not a boy.

So you close your eyes and dream of all the yummy food you’ll eat over the course of your adventures. That's the only travel plan you have so far. Everything else will happen as it comes.

-

After the long flight, the first thing you do is stretch and breath in some fresh air. The sky is blue and the morning sun is radiating down on your jet-lagged body. As much as you’d love to find a hotel to rid yourself of your bulky luggage and take a nap, you don’t have time for that. You’re eager to explore, and that alone is already more than enough to energize your mind and soul.

You wander around the streets in search of the no.1 thing on your mind: food. Rather than use a GPS or Yelp, you leave it up to your intuition and stomach. And somehow, you’re led into an empty café with fancy coffees and desserts.

To give off the least amount of touristy vibes, you shove your luggage beneath the table for two and begin to browse your food options. You lowkey want to eat everything that’s pictured on the menu, but you have to remind yourself that you still have a long trip ahead of you, so there’ll most definitely be plenty of other opportunities for good food. After careful consideration, you settle on an iced mocha and a slice of strawberry sponge cake. A caffeine and sugar rush can’t hurt.

As you wait for your food, you wonder why the café is so empty. Perhaps it has a bad review on Yelp and you would’ve known that if you’d just checked your phone. Maybe the food quality is shit, or maybe the service is terrible, or maybe they know something that you don’t. Oops.

But it takes less than five minutes for your food to be served with Instagram-quality presentation. The strawberry sponge cake looks moist and delicate with pink flower sprinkles that glisten in the sunlight, and the mocha has a cute kitten drawn on the handcrafted foam. But to be honest, you kind of care more about the taste—which is also surprisingly quite delicious by your standards.

You suppose you shouldn’t worry as long as the food tastes good, so you pull out your journal again and write another entry as you enjoy your breakfast.

“travel diary entry #2: got off the plane, stopped at a cute café with no one in it, which is lowkey shady, but whatever. the food tastes good lol. oh and the mocha has a kitten drawn on it to match the tigers on this journal. is this what they call fate?? LMAO jkjkjkjkjk-”

“I’ll order what that customer is eating—except no coffee, please,” a soft and mellow voice interrupts your train of thought. You had been so absorbed in your food and writing that you didn’t realize another customer had appeared. Maybe the café isn’t so shady after all. Your intuition hasn’t failed you.

As you take a sip of your mocha, you casually glance over at the table across from where you’re seated and nearly spit out your entire drink—not because it tastes bad, but because you recognize the long eyelashes. It’s the eyelash boy from the airport.

Between bites of your cake, you keep sneaking peeks at the boy, who’s actually a lot more handsome now that you can see his features up close. With his loosely styled hair, his expensive yet questionable taste in fashion, and his gorgeous looks, there’s no doubt he holds some sort of fame status.

Apparently you’ve stared for too long because he catches you and deadass rolls his eyes. As if you’re doing something wrong.

“If you’re waiting for an autograph or something, you aren’t getting one,” he finally says to you. An autograph? You don’t even know who the fuck this guy is, and he thinks you want his autograph?

“Excuse me?” You narrow your eyes at the celebrity.

“I know you’re one of the fans from the airport. You waved at me with pizza hanging out of your mouth.” You’re half embarrassed by the fact that he witnessed The Great Pizza Incident, and half offended by the fact that he called you a “fan”. Because you’re certainly no fan of his.

“Last time I checked, I was sitting at this café before you, so there’s no need for you to assume I’m one of your crazed fans who follow you around everywhere.”

“And yet, somehow out of all the places in the world, you happen to travel to the same exact city as me,” he scoffs. “Don’t pretend like this is a coincidence.” His thick-skulled ass doesn’t believe you, and you can’t believe it. What did you do to deserve this?

“If you think I somehow found your schedule and took this vacation for the sole purpose of seeing my favorite celebrity, then you’re either paranoid or way too conceited,” you say. “I don’t even know who you are, or why there were so many fans chasing you around the airport. I’m just here to enjoy my trip, so leave me the fuck out of your problems.” It comes out a little harsher than you’d like, but hopefully it’ll get the point across that you aren’t a fan blinded by love.

Out of shock, the boy just blinks at you. He’s probably not used to being scolded straight to his pretty face. But he deserved it, and to your surprise, he apologizes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take out my frustrations on you,” he pulls back and bites his lip, “especially when you chose to stay away from the airport chaos.” At least he’s willing to own up to his mistakes.

“It’s fine… I’m not actually that mad… I just didn’t want to be wrongly accused of being a stalker, you know?” You soften your expression to ease the tension. “Besides, I’m sure it happens to you all the time.”

He nods in silence as he stares down at his strawberry cake. It seems celebrities do get overwhelmed and sick of living with no privacy. Maybe this boy just happens to have reached his tipping point.

“Look, I’m sorry you have to deal with constant bullshit like that. Everyone deserves the freedom and space to do whatever they wish (as long as it’s legal),” you say, finishing off your last bite of cake. “That’s actually the reason I decided to take this solo vacation—to take time away for myself!” You aren’t sure why you share this last bit of information with the boy, especially when you hadn’t told any friend or family about your spontaneous trip, but it just feels right to let him know that he’s not the only one in search of a liberation of some sort.

“I wish I could be a free spirit like you,” he chuckles for the first time, and it’s really fucking cute. “Maybe that’s why I’m taking this trip too—to loosen up a bit and do what I want, rather than conform to what the world expects of me.”

“Well you aren’t off to a great start, to be honest,” you tease him as you receive the bill from your waiter. As soon as you see how much you have to pay, your mouth forms a big O because you realize why the café is so empty. It costs you a lot more than you’d like to spend on some coffee and cake. But despite the overpriced food, you don’t feel terrible about your stay.

Just as you’re about to get up to pay at the register, you’re blocked by the boy who’s suddenly trying to act like a gentleman. “Let me pay for it… as an apology for interrupting your breakfast. And by the way, who eats cake for breakfast?”

“You ordered the same thing as me!” This guy is unbelievable, but also amusing. “And it’s fine. I may not be a celebrity like you, but I can pay for my own food. Thanks anyway, Mr. Celebrity.” You smile at him before making your payment at the counter. Something about his cute frown from the rejection makes you die a little.

“Then let me take you out,” he blurts out, perhaps on the spur of the moment. “I-I mean… unless you have plans later.”

You take a long moment to stare at the boy who had accused you of being a stalker less than an hour ago. Oh how the tables have turned. The spontaneity of travelling with someone you just met certainly will spice up your adventure—for better or worse. Somewhere in you, a fire is lit. So you shake your head, “I don’t have any plans. After all, I’m a free spirit as you like to call me.”

“Then what would you like to be called?”

“Y/N.”

“Right. Y/N. Then… I’m T?”

“T? Is that what your real name starts with?” you chuckle. “And why do you sound so suspicious?”

“Wait, you really don’t know who I am?”

“I really fucking don’t.”

You hear him mumble something about fires and deoxyribonucleic acid, as if you should get the references. But you suppose you’re too much of an uncultured swine to pick up what he’s putting down.

“Good.” For some reason, he looks relieved that you’re unaware of his celebrity self. “Just call me Taehyung then.”

[taule]

Maul, part I: Broken Boys - early life trauma, survival & Ben Solo parallels

This is going to be an evolving meta that will be posted in a series of installments as I make my way through the various sources piecing the picture together and also attempt to tackle the various themes that pull at my heartstrings. I haven’t attempted to write anything in quite this way before, so there will be inevitable cross-referencing happening and it’s likely that I will come back to certain things later on.

There is something that stood out to me right away, as I started reading The Wrath of Darth Maul, and those are Ben Solo parallels. That doesn’t mean that I equate them in any way, but it does point to certain circumstantial factors that shaped their lives and I believe that what we know about them individually can inform us about the other. 

In both of them we see the effects of what it means to be a victim of the Dark side. The destruction of an innocent, impressionable mind being subjected to unimaginable, systematic cruelty with no protection and no hope of escape. Being taught that everything happening to them is their own doing, and a just punishment. They are the Lost Boys. Both their lives could have been very different and neither went down a path they laid for themselves through choice. And in Maul, especially, the connection to the Dark side is not an inherent one, and was about his environment and matter of birth, more so than something he manifested independently, in contrast to what we know of Ben, whose internal conflict had been apparent from the beginning. 

My interest and inspiration here is to look at how the loss, trauma, deprivation, enduring compassion and capacity for love come together and fit into place in the making of this man. I don’t plan to descend into proper psychoanalysis, but to try and open Maul’s path and mind through some of what we know about Ben, who has been presented as a much more sympathetic character. In fact, hardly as a villain at all. And although I already said that I don’t equate them, I hope to show that the patterns and psychology of it is very similar, even if circumstances differ.

A major difference between Maul and Ben though, is the age at which they began their training, and the fact that Maul was trained to use the Force as a darksider from the start. But the way that the Dark side methods and cruelty in his training contrast with his curious and accepting nature shows that while Darth Sidious took him for his strength in the Force, the same way that Snoke singled out Ben, the darkness wasn’t inherently dominating over the potential for Light in either of them. The question of age definitely plays into this matter, because Ben started training unusually late, and Maul on the other hand very early, and so he wasn’t old enough to have yet started manifesting the imbalance or struggle between Light and Dark the way Ben did.

Unfortunately a lot of the material that has provided information on Maul’s early life has been pushed to the Legends with the Disney acquisition. Which is a shame. Because that material was a source for a lot of insight. I’m not going to shy away from using it as a source here though, because it still shows the original intention in his depiction. And there is very little material that has come later that has overwritten any of what came before. It has mostly just left a hole.

But there are some inconsistencies that derive from the rebranding and restructuring because of later-established sources that no longer had to be consistent with published material. To me, one of the most important ones is the circumstance of his birth. 

The earlier information ( Darth Plagueis, 2012 ) reveals that Maul was born on Iridonia, as one of two male twins to Kycina, a human Nightsister mother from Talzin’s clan, and a Dathomirian Zabrak father that by Dathomirian tradition was killed soon after she became pregnant. Kycina was desperate to find a way to give at least one of her sons a life of freedom. Thinking Talzin was only aware of one of her twins, she offered Maul to Sidious to take as an apprentice, hoping that this would at least give her son a chance of a life free of the fate that awaited him on Dathomir.

The later version goes into no such detail of the circumstance of his birth that I have been able to discern, and it is merely established that Talzin was mother to all three boys (including Savage). And that Sidious had formed an alliance with Talzin, having promised to take her as his apprentice in return for her knowledge. It is when Sidious met Maul and sensed his strength in the Force that he not only broke his promise to Talzin, but also kidnapped her “son”. 

Personally, I remain loyal to the original version. Not only does it answer more questions, but I believe that it offers us valuable insight. I’m sure it was no small amount of consideration that went into giving such an iconic character a backstory. And for it to be imagined in this way tells us quite a bit about how the creators wanted him to be perceived, at least by those who would seek that understanding.

Not to mention the fact that there is no plausible child-parent relationship depicted between Maul and Talzin. And to insist that he’s her son would also mean to accept that this mother did nothing to aid this son of hers who was withering away on Lotho Minor... not before it became convenient and useful for her at least.

And as it is a certain development that Im trying to observe here, chronology is relevant to it. So in the following I’m going to look at the backstory that The Wrath of Darth Maul paints us, starting from his early years in captivity on Mustafar. 

Maul was only 3 or even two at the time, considering that he has already been on Mustafar for a while by the time the book starts. Page 1 of chapter I describes where, and importantly how he is being kept. In a small, featureless room, made of metal. With a single polarized viewport overlooking a river of lava leading to a sea of fire. He was completely isolated and left without any meaningful social interaction. A single droid looked after him, simultaneously serving the functions of his caretaker, teacher and punisher. The very second page in chapter I establishes how little Maul wishes he could escape this place.

He was left in complete emotional and social deprivation. Fed bits of raw meat through a slot in the door that remained shut. Then, forced to exercise until point of collapse. Let’snot forget that this is a toddler that we are talking about. Windham repeatedly emphasizes how small he is. For example, how his feet “only extend a few centimeters over the edge of a seat”.

We are introduced to the circumstance through a frightened child’s eyes. Trying to figure out how to behave in the right way that does not grant punishment. He is being actively conditioned in the most awful, cruel ways. Something that has been (with less written evidence) noted about Ben and the way in which it shaped his thinking for years to come, leaving behind marks that he may never entirely recover from.

“Maul hated the Man even more than he hated the droid. The Man frightened him.”

The book doesn’t describe the first few times that Maul met Sidious, but only that his fear of him was greater than that he felt for the droid that routinely hurt him. 

“Usually, the droid brought pain. Once, the droid had delivered a bright green and yellow snake that wasted no time in attacking Maul, sinking its venomous fangs deep into the boy’s arm.”

“One of the first things he learned was not to cry. Crying never made anything better. Crying only made things worse.”

So these two quotes above should give an adequate idea about what his early childhood boiled down to. Not that we can really call this a childhood. Mind you, this is only from the first pages of chapter one so far, and his training, which is in reality conditioning, only became crueler as he grew. The objective was quite clearly to break him down completely, so he could be put back together in ways that served the abuser’s intended purpose. But there’s nothing vague about all the abuse he’s been described to go through. I wont be including the most graphic depictions of abuse here, but let me tell you it wasn’t easy to read.

I feel it’s been somewhat acknowledged that Maul has a backstory, and that there’s certain tragedy to it. But I’m just not sure in what depth it’s been looked at. And there’s the inevitable difference between how the origin story of the hero vs the villain is looked upon. Regardless of whether the dichotomy is really carved into stone in such a way, as long as it is perceived, it is also applied. 

That also extends to the sympathy with which their lives are viewed. I think we have an interesting case in Ben, because people obviously can’t agree on it. We’ve been sent mixed signals, and we can see how that has changed our perception of his becoming, and our willingness to see him as a victim. Because on one hand there’s the way that he has been initially presented as a villain (even though not explicitly defining him that way) and then there’s his ever-expanding backstory that explains how things ended up that way. And it’s the how that has the power to change... everything. Because it has the power to bring understanding which in turn inspires sympathy, that enables a shift in responsibility. Which can change how we view something to the very core.

“More than ever, Maul wished he were the free-floating boy who appeared to exist beyond the window in his own room. He tried very hard not to tremble as he slowly turned and looked up to face the Man.”

His wish to escape has been mentioned multiple times. And it’s more than about setting the tone, the feeling. It’s confirming over and over that this child didn’t choose this path or fate. Depending on whether we follow the original or the later version, he was either given up by his mother in hopes that this would be better than what awaited on Dathomir, or he was kidnapped. In either case, not there by any choice of his own.

“But he survived.”

And I think this is quite clearly establishes that it’s mightily unfair to talk about choices here. What we’re talking about is survival. Once it becomes about survival, it’s what reframes everything else involved, because we’ve stopped talking about choices. I guess what I’m arguing here is that if we can agree that Ben Solo was a victim of the Dark side, of abuse, conditioning and manipulation, Maul most definitely is. Not only were his circumstances likely far more severe, but he had not known a life outside of it. He had no point of reference for what the alternative could even be and no moral framework outside of avoiding cruel punishment. 

[meatmachine]

Ideas for Kinesiotape

A good clinician can discover a seemingly unlimited number of ways to tape their patients if they just consider this one thing...

Youve seen it on pro athletes in the NBA/NFL/PGA/MLS olympics and beyond, but what is actually going on with all this Ktape? What is kinesiotape!? How does Ktape work? Who is Ktape for? Is it only athletes? What if Ktape doesnt work? Is there a brand that is better? There seems to be a lot of different ways people use Ktape... is there a right way? is there a wrong way? Whats the best way to use ktape?! First, let’s clear the air on some of the Ktape basics, then ill try to explain how I think the absolute best use of Ktape is to think about treating or an intervention of the skin AROUND the area you’ve taped (NOT the area under the tape, but around it that is most impacted)... but more on why this little secret actually works later... first...

WELCOME! to the anatomy of therapy, im doctor john cybulski and let’s get right into the ktape craze sweeping the therapeutic nation. 

The Kinesio Taping® technique and Kinesio Tex tape was developed by Dr. Kenzo Kase in Japan more than 25 yrs ago. In the 1970's Dr. Kase began searching for a sports taping method which could assist in the healing of traumatised tissue and muscles. He found that standard taping techniques, such as athletic taping and strapping, provided muscle and joint support, however, they reduced range of motion, and inhibited the actual healing process of traumatised tissue. In 1973, Dr Kase's objective was to create a therapeutic tape and taping technique which could support joints and muscles, without restricting range of motion. 

This is the first new and fresh perspective Ktape gave us in the therapuetic setting.... NOT decreasing range of motion. This fundamental idea that healing happens when you do NOT decrease range of motion is absolutely pivotal and i believe somehow overlooked by many clinicians today.  Obviously, most clinicians will state that one of their goals is of course to increase range of motion, but sticking strictly to this principle almost immediately excludes those who are hypermobile and can cause confusion. but we will discuss more about hypermobility and ktape later.

So this is the answer to our first question: WHAT IS KTAPE? It’s a stretchy tape design to NOT decrease range of motion and help in the healing process. Sticking closely with the idea proper movement is indeed therapeutic. 

Which leads us nicely into our second question: HOW DOES KTAPE work then? If we are taping someone and NOT decreasing range of motion, how is ktape helping? And this is where i start to go more off script because some bigger ktape brands often list that....  There are five main physiological effects of Kinesio tape: skin, circulatory/lymphatic, fascia, muscle, and joint. Now they stay safe in their wording by saying “effects” but Ive seen a number of different brands promote their ktape as beneficial to treating the: skin, lymph, fascia, muscle and joint. So ill have to edit to my own personal views, but the idea and standard line of ktape brands is to say that the tape lifts the skin and allows for easier circulation of lymph (and in turn inflammation) which then allows the muscle, fascia and joint to heal properly. I mean, okay. Sounds nice, but for me there might be a couple logical leaps in there. As i said in the intro, the skin not taped, nearest the tape may be out best way to intervene, but I have a hard time really understanding exactly how the fascia muscles and joints are effected. Perhaps its obliquely and indirectly through 6 degrees of separation from kevin bacon, but it’s going to be very challenging for your client/patient to actually be able to experience or sense some sort of change on that deeper level. Which is only really building my case as to why and how the superficial approach to thinking about the skin as you tape is actually the most efficient way to tape. 

but the larger how is still in line with other ways of taping. Support through a certain joint in a certain direction will not decrease range of motion but can limit possibly damaging movement patterns. So let’s imagine that lateral abduction of the arm is painful at the AC joint. Placing the tape (with minimal tension) over the lateral aspect of the deltoid and shoulder while the arm is adducted should in THEORY help make the patient aware of that lateral abduction and limit an overuse of that specific movement. The idea that you need to stop picking the scabs and allow yourself to heal is obvious here. Although this CAN have an effect on the muscles and joint the intervention is really directed at taping the skin over said muscles and joint with the opposing tension (here adduction is helpful while abduction is painful) to illicit a sense of balance to the joint. 

This is the standard approach. However, (with the same situation in mind) you can actually achieve some pretty interesting outcomes if you move the affected joint passively into or even past the point of pain and tape in that position. 

So in taping the shoulder while in adduction, the deltoid, shoulder skin is stretches tight and then secured as tense underneath the tape. While if you passively raise the shoulder into abduction the skin and muscles around the shoulder would have some slack, or be looser than the first scenario. So when you are laying down your tape you’ll need to consider is you want the area underneath the tape to be slack or tense. 

This is the most clinically consistent way I have been able to use Ktape to help my patients. Otherwise it’s simply that i slap some tape down, make it look nice and hope the patient tells me that it felt good. Using an solid skin stretch or taking the tension off of the skin and then taping is the best way to allow my patients to actually sense what I am trying to accomplish with the tape. They can feel via their skin that something is being pulled or something is relaxing. 

So who is this tape for? The main problem here is that it’s mostly seen on high level athletes and your average joe doesnt think they can also find some benefit in taping. This is untrue. One of the most obvious differences between a pro athlete and us mere mortals is that we are often no as conditioned as the pro and the more deconditioned the patient the more effective a passive intervention will be to their system. It’s wildly important to explain where Ktape falls in terms of interventions and in returning your patient to their normal ADLs. 

The tape will not heal you. Within the context of treatment it is merely stopping you from reverting to your old movement patterns. This is just another way of describing my first use of skin tension or slack to limit or encourage certain movements. 

The tape is not the treatment. It is one piece of the puzzle. A good clinician can discover a seemingly unlimited number of ways to tape when considering what the provocative movement might be. 

To limit lumbar flexion you tape them in lumbar extension

To encourage hip extension you place and tape in hip extension. 

To limit cervical flexion you tape in cervical and thoracic extension

To encourage thoracic extension.... you tape in thoracic extension. and so on

It’s far less about the direction of the tape than it is what is happening to what the tape is being used on. 

My basic rule would first be to over set the posture you’d like to encourage. Really exaggerate shoulder external rotation before laying the tape down. If you combine movements like left external rotation, left forearm supination, wrist extension... and so on, you can create more torque to trap underneath the tape. 

There are a number of other fun techniques to use with the ktape but the last one ill talk about is in reference to when a patient has a very localized trigger point or area of pain. Let’s use the common upper trap, levator trigger point, or knot that patients often describe. If say this point is triggered by cervical rotation away from the side of pain. LEt’s says the pain is in the right upper trap and is triggered when the patient looks over their left shoulder. Then we know we need to turn the cervical spine to the right as far as we can and then and only then lay the tape down. The one different piece here is that we wont take over the “trigger point”... we tape just below the trigger point, or next to the trigger so as to create a new point of tension when turning to the left. 

That’s the main point with the ktape as with the rest of your therapeutic interventions. Creating situations where tension is either relieved or tension is created naturally by the patient. That’s the definition of an exercise really. Ktape may be frowned upon by those who use it or see it’s use as something besides that, but if you do realize where you need to create tension with your patients and where it’s best to relieve tension then ktape can be a major ally in helping your patients