#well enjoy this quick drawing i did a month ago

[pookiethebloodsucker]

scenes that kill me dead

[luvtak]

depollute me, gentle angel -`✮´- ljn

the feeling of falling in love has never been so sweet <3

genre/tw jeno x reader!! fluff so sweet it’ll rot your teeth! baby & honey used as petnames, jeno being shy and wonderful and in love, minor dreamies features, kissing, the honeymoon phase personified, gender neutral reader! mostly unedited.

w/c 1217

a/n well its been a minute since i’ve written for one of my dreamies, but i hope you like this one <3 i wrote it quick in the middle of the night, and i hope you can tell, its just the tone this love needs 🫀 please enjoy and let me know if you liked it!!

Jeno has never been in love.

When he was younger he thought he might be, a distant memory of a smile, a slight graze of cold hands. Butterflies in his belly and pink cheeks… but those feelings were always fleeting, a quick rush before the fluttering went away.

No Jeno has never been in love, but he think he might be. Two months ago, you walked up to him in the park, pretty lips drawing up; your smile so dashing he had to return it. That smile turned to a phone number, a phone number to a shared cup of coffee—He can’t believe a question about directions have led you here…

You look so sweet under the streetlight, skin aglow and eyes alight.

The pavement is isolated, no one else but the two of you breathing. His hand urges to hold yours, but he can’t trust his palms not to be clammy; He can’t trust his fingers not to shake or the blood not to rush to his face. He wonders if this is being in love, if the feeling always causes discomfort… he wonders if you feel this way too, if the pads of your fingers ache with the need to touch him, the way his do.

Earlier in the night you’d met his friends, grinning the whole time and telling jokes like you’d known them forever. So beautiful, he thought, like a picture that wasn’t finished until you were painted in.

Jeno knows he probably looked silly and love struck, so obvious in his affection that Hyuck made annoying whipping sounds, and Mark pinched his red hot face.

He couldn’t help but smile thinking about it, his lips lifting so high his eyes become crescents—a perfect picture of joy, so alluring you can’t help but ask,

“What’s got you so happy, baby?”

“Nothing, just glad you liked them is all.”

And you did, you liked Jaemin and his quiet chaos, Jisung and his hesitant happiness at the older boys mischief. Yes, you like them, and how could you not when you see Jeno in them all.

He’s there in their laughter and their harmless jokes, you can hear him in them, and you love them for it.

“Well, you love them, Jen… so how could I not?” You see the impact this has on him, the shaky breath he releases into the cold air and the way his strong hand clenches with nerves. He hasn’t touched you all night, too shy and too infatuated, so you reach out to him. Your hands coming to grasp at his arms, rubbing gently at his shoulder blades. He wraps himself around you so quickly, almost like he was waiting for you to say it was okay—such a sweet boy he is, waiting for permission even when it’s always a yes.

You met him in a moment quite like this, quiet and intimate… strangers then but not now.

You thought he was handsome and when he asked for your phone number you were convinced it was a joke. How could someone as lovely as him want to know you? but he did, and now he’s here with you: his face in your neck, and you love him you really do.

You feel his lips first, pressing the sweetest kisses behind your ear and smiling into your hair. Every touch a confession, every caress a promise from a devotee to his deity.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

“You make me so shy, honey…” He says, “so so shy, it’s like I could forget my own name.

“You don’t make me shy… you make me feel alive.” You tell him, and you mean it.

Every moment with Jeno is like accelerating on an empty freeway, like you might just fly if you drive fast enough.

He’s silent after you speak, the passing cars being the only sound around for miles. A quiet so deep, you’d be scared if it wasn’t for Jeno’s strong arms around your waist.

He isn’t scared of your confession; his silence is not fear, it's not doubt, but he needs to do this right. He needs you to understand that he’s new to this, that he’s busy and imperfect, but he loves you. He loves your laugh, the way it’s not pretty or sexy, but loud and silly and so wholly you. He loves the little scars on your hands—marks so old you don’t know where they came from. He loves your smile, your eyes, the way you love his friends and they loved you…

When you went to the bathroom at the restaurant, the boys all smiled at him, but it was Jaemin—Jaemin who’d been quiet all evening—who grabbed his hand and said, good job, puppy , you really did it!

He really did it, he thinks, he found you…

When he speaks again, its with an assurance that's unfamiliar under a streetlight at midnight. So strong with his conviction, your body draws impossibly closer to him.

“I’m so grateful you came up to me that day, y’know. I remember the whole thing, your blue coat and your yellow umbrella… I needed you then, I knew it, I can’t believe how badly I needed you.” He keeps shaking his head, and his hand is weaving its way closer to the back of your head… fingers reaching out to clutch the point your spinal cord meets your skull. “I’m so glad the boys liked you, I don’t know what I’d do if they didn’t…”

“Why wouldn’t they like me, baby?” You ask, “I love you too much for them not too.”

His smile is electric, 80 miles per hour down a dirt road… a smile that makes you feel like flying.

Jeno’s eyes close, laughter so happy it hurts you, and then he’s kissing you. Lips in your hair, reaching down to swipe against the slope of your neck. Butterfly kisses on your jaw, kisses so tender it fills your heart with an pain so sweet, so heartbreakingly beautiful.

When his kiss reaches your mouth, hovering against you and breathing in the carbon your body’s releasing, you wish you could paint this moment—trap it in canvas and hang it above your couch.

“I love you so much, honey, so so much.”

And then his lips are on yours. It’s like he wants to bruise, his kiss taking and taking, breathing you in like it’s all he needs to survive. Every cell, every vein, every muscle and every bone in his body needs you. His heart is beating so fast, he doesn’t know if his arteries can keep up, if he has enough strength to keep standing.

Your blood sings with want, a hunger for his affection that is foreign under this pocket of light.

You love him, you think, you love him and he loves you…

How wonderful a concept, to love and be loved, to have and to hold and whatever nonsense people promise to each other.

You love him and he loves you.

He pulls away from you with a resistance you can relate to, a soft smile gracing his handsome face, as pretty as the stars blotted out around you.

He takes your hand as says,

“Let's go home, huh, wanna love you where it’s warm.”

And you can’t think of anything better.

luvtak 2024

[ronwestbreeze]

NONBELIEVER | viktor

summary: you would think two zaunites would come together and change the world. but perhaps fate had other plans for the two...

word count: 5.7k

warning: no use of y/n, angst and ambiguous endings???

author's note: so act 3 really messed me up lol but enjoy some angsty viktor because why not? the gif is from this set!!

ACT I: MOB

Like Viktor, you lived and breathed the Undercity just not in the same way.

Your face used to be what artists would paint, even for a revolutionary.

But now it was stained with blood of your own. Beaten out of you mercilessly until cool shackles were clamped onto your hands and steel bars shielded you from the world. You have been in prison for some time now. Months, maybe a year? These days you’ve lost count. The only way you could tell how much time had passed was the growth of your hair. That was the price of being a revolutionary. That was the price of taking risks no one else would. Now you tasted blood and smelled old pipes. That was life in Stillwater Hold.

How you got here was the same story as any other inmate. You had planned to destroy a part of Piltover to make a point. To show that the people of the Undercity would not rest or become the ants under their boots. Most of your comrades had escaped from Enforcers, others were killed in the explosion, and then there was you. It was a sacrifice so that your comrades could have time to escape. And you’ve long accepted your fate.

That is until a certain professor decided to mess with fate.

After being forced out of your cell to meet this Professor Heimer—something, you weren’t really sure about. All you knew was that these Enforcers really liked to manhandle you especially roughly and took pleasure in seeing the black eye and blood on your teeth. That you were used to.

“Oh dear, could we please get her a towel at least?” The professor chided with a shake of his head. “Goodness, at least have her be presentable!”

Eventually, you got the rag, albeit it was thrown at you. After spitting on one of the Enforcer’s shoes, you wiped the blood and dirt from your face as the professor began speaking.

“Well, you certainly live up to your name. The Rebel Moon, is it? You may or may not have heard of me, but I am Professor Cecil. B. Heimerdinger and I are here as a Piltover Academy representative!”

A beat of silence went by. You realized then he was waiting for a response. You rolled your shoulder back and rubbed your aching jaw. “What are you meeting with me for?”

Professor Heimerdinger cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well….it seems you’ve left yourself a bit of a…reputation. I specifically admire your work on the bridge a year ago—marvelous work!” Sarcasm. You didn’t quite appreciate the condescension either. Seeing the unimpressed expression on your face, he quickly continued, “What I mean to get at is that we found some of your…erm, blueprints and I was surprised to see that most of them had been handwritten yourself, is that right?”

One of the Enforcers placed down a file filled with your old blueprints. They were mostly a copy of the Piltover Bridge, others were for weapons that your previous comrades built off of your drawings. Then there were the private drawings. The ones filled with naïve dreams of rebuilding the Undercity, changing it to a place where it was safe for everyone.

You snatched the files and hid those drawings in the file earning a quick yank from one of the Enforcers holding your chain. But after a subtle look from the professor, the chain loosened, and you frowned, anger boiling in your blood. “Where did you get this?”

Heimerdinger raised his hands, “I come in good faith, child, that I can promise.”

“I don’t particularly care about your promises—”

“Oh yes, very true,” The professor tapped the table thoughtfully. “But I do think you will like the proposition I have for you.”

Apparently, you had the potential talent of being an architect. One of the best in your generation it seemed—which somehow, he got from just looking at your old blueprints. And now he was convinced that you should join his Academy and that this was the perfect opportunity for you to change your life. To start over. To—

“Become one of you people?” You frowned and pushed the file away from you. “I’ll take my chances in here.”

 Heimerdinger, of course, was quite the persistent man.  “Imagine what you could do with your talents, Miss Moon. You’re still so young, you don’t have to waste your life behind bars. You can start anew!”

“I’m not wasting away in here.” You say simply, your shoulders are heavy and your face still sore. Carefully and slowly, you leaned back in the chair you were sitting in,  trying not to put too much stress on your recently dislocated arm. “That’s the thing with you Upsiders. You all don’t know anything about what it is to fight. And what it is to sacrifice just so your people can see the light of day. I don’t need your handouts. I’m doing just fine here. It’s where I belong.”

At that, he frowned. “I’m afraid I disagree with you, Miss Moon.” He pushed the file back toward you. “You have the chance to create something beautiful for your city, for your people. You have the chance to help them live. You have the chance to be something greater.”

Greater. You weren’t great. It was either great or nothing.

Somehow, Heimerdinger managed to strike a deal and get you out of Stillwater despite your rejection. For some reason, he was so determined to make you into something that you weren’t. And you were determined to fail. You were determined to prove him wrong. Even if he tried to impress you with the new uniform, the scenery, and the architect of Piltover—just to inspire you—you would not break.

If anything, seeing all this luxury only made you angrier. Even if they preached about you now being free with new chances, there were still shackles clamped on your wrists, imprinting themselves like a tattoo. To remind you that even if you’ve gotten this chance, there is always a chance for you to go back. And they wouldn’t hesitate to send you back once you mess up. Which was what you were counting on.

But it seemed that Heimerdinger was a lot more astute than you expected. The professor had you in his study during the day to work and look over some blueprints for new housing at the Academy. It left you with very little time to plan something reckless that would have you sent back to prison. Which, you guessed, was what Heimerdinger wanted. So, you entertained him and worked on the stupid blueprints, redesigning everything as fast as you could so you could get done faster and have more time on your hands.

Of course, that plan went quickly out the window when there came more demands for blueprints. Leaving you swapped and buried deep in work you didn’t even want. And yet, admittingly, it was a nice distraction. There was a small part of you—the child you—that enjoyed some of this. You would never admit that to Heimerdinger and yet you couldn’t put the pencil down. Eventually, you began receiving so many different requests for different projects that Heimerdinger got you a lab over your own, so all your stuff didn’t get overcrowded in his study.

Requests were filled with more designs or redesign for specific buildings they were hoping to update to catch up to the times—and then there were a few that had you designing weapons. The more you worked, the more of a reputation you began to build in the Academy. The new Undercity kid. Rebel Moon. Hephaestus. It was all ridiculous.

That’s when another fellow Undercity student finally found you.

“I fear those papers would catch on fire the more you glare at it.”

It was an accented voice that stirred you out of your spinning thoughts. You definitely had been glaring at the blueprints of a recent request for an apartment just a few walks from campus. You briefly glanced over your shoulder toward the man—he seemed a little bit older than you, walked with a cane, intrigued amber eyes, and a small, amused smile tugging at his lips.

“If you’re here for a request then just leave it over there with the rest.” You murmured before turning your attention back to the blueprints after pointing toward a desk in the corner stacked with many more requests.

There was a short breath before he spoke, “Ah, no, I actually already sent a request just a few weeks ago…I’m impressed by your work, the professor has a knack for spotting talent.”

You didn’t respond as you kept staring at the blueprints, twirling the pen in your hand, feeling the weight of the shackle around your wrist.

You heard him clear his throat, “So, you are from the Undercity?”

“What’s it to you?” You grunt before outlining.

“Well, truthfully, I didn’t expect the Academy to accept another one.”

At that, you swirl around in your seat and sized the man up carefully. He was pale, slightly hunched to hide his true height, neatly combed dark hair, and he had very fine cheekbones. “Another one? What, too many Zaunites in your perfect little school?”

“I would’ve thought they had enough once I joined.” He gave a knowing smile that made you pause and narrow your eyes.

“…You’re…from the Undercity?”

He moved toward you; the click of his cane echoed in the quiet room and offered his hand to you. “I’m Viktor. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you, Miss Moon.”

You stared at his hand for a moment, tilting your head, “Great things? That doesn’t sound right.”

Viktor chuckled, still holding his hand out. “Eh, some people might have a few opinions about you. Unfortunately, it made me all the keener to meet you in person.”

“Am I what you expected then?” You asked as you eventually shook his hand, your shackles clinking a bit.

With a small smile, he squeezed your hand, “No. Not at all.”

Your brow twitched as you studied him. He was delicate-looking. But his hand was a bit larger yet slender. They were calloused, just like yours yet warm compared to your coldness. It was then you realized that your hand was still in his and you pulled it away and turned back to your work.

“My name’s not ���Miss Moon’ by the way.” You grunt as you refocus.

There was another soft chuckle and a click of his cane before he was gone. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder and stare at the doorway, a little bit too intrigued.

After that, you didn’t stop seeing Viktor. At least twice every week you’d get a request for him to polish some designs for his work. Sometimes he’d send his assistant, Sky, and sometimes he’d come in person himself.  At first, you weren’t entirely sure about him. But the fact that he was from the Undercity along with his assistant was slightly comforting. At least you weren’t alone here. Still, it was odd. Foreign.

“Have you ever gone out to see the finished product of your work?” Viktor asked you one day, deciding to linger even after delivering yet another request for something to do with a Hexcore.

“No.”

“Why?”

You frown and glance toward him. He was looking over some of your finished blueprints with a strange look accompanied by a smile. “I’m just not interested.”

Viktor blinked and met your eyes with a small frown. You didn’t say much more—truthfully there wasn’t much more to be said about it.

“Well, it’s one of the most beautiful designs I’ve ever seen. If that’s any consolation.”

You felt something in your chest at his words. Perhaps some of you did want to see the finished products of your design. And yet you were always rooted in this lab. In the dark under one lamp, barely seen by other students. Hephaestus.

Viktor tapped your workbench thoughtfully and hummed, “I’ll leave you to it, Miss Moon.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s not my name.”

He laughed and left your lab.

On another day he came into your lab in quite a hurry. He left his requests as usual before rushing out. Only he left a ring behind. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glanced at the ring on the floor and toward your workbench before sighing. After grabbing the ring, you pushed up from your stool and left your lab. This was the first time you’ve walked around campus or went anywhere besides your lab or Heimerdinger’s study.

You asked around for Viktor’s lab until you stopped on a bridge, spotting something quite familiar.

It was the newly remodeled dorms. They glistened like gold in the sun. Build just like how you imagined them in your head. Just like how you outlined it on paper. Only in your dreams could you imagine what they would look like. But seeing it….It was real. And it was beautiful. And it came from your mind.

“Ah, Miss Moon, odd seeing you here!” Viktor approached you quite smugly from across the bridge. He glanced toward the dorms and gave a grin, “They just got done with it last week. What do you think, hmm?”

You narrow your eyes, “You scheming little eel.”

Viktor blinked almost too innocently, “I haven’t a clue what you mean—ah, I was looking for that.”

He gestured toward the ring in your hand. You gave it back to him while your eyes couldn’t help but draw back to the dorms. There was a tightness in your chest and a small ache behind your eyes.

“Glorious, isn’t it?” Viktor asked, his voice gentle as always.

You snapped out of your reserved awe and cleared your throat. “They did okay, I guess.”

With that, you darted back to your lab, the dorms imprinting themselves in your mind.

It became a routine at some point. Viktor began visiting your lab a little more often. At first, you didn’t notice this. But some days he’d come back to your lab a second time that day just to linger and see what else you were working on. At first, you thought you found it annoying. But as the days carried on and turned into weeks, you began to begrudgingly look forward to his visits.

“At least make yourself useful. Look over my work and see if there’s anything I missed.” You tried grunting when he leaned a little closer than usual to look at the blueprint you were working on.

“Hmm, I can try.” Viktor hummed as he flicked his eyes over the finished prints. “But they’re all probably perfect as usual.”

“Don’t you have some work to get to?”

“Not particularly, no.”

For some reason, he started leaving shit in your lab. Which would lead to you having to go and find him and return his stuff. Stuff like a screwdriver or some paperwork. Today it was a journal as you trudged through the campus and finally found his lab.

“Vik, I understand you’re a busy man, but you can’t keep leaving your shit in my area.” You huffed, throwing his journal onto his workbench, breaking him from his focus.

“Oh, Miss Moon,” He looked genuinely surprised to see you. “I wasn’t expecting you…”

“Yeah, right, so you didn’t leave this in my lab on purpose? You just happen to leave it there for me to find and bring to you?” You hummed, tilting your head as you got a good look at what he’s been working on—something a lot longer than what you’ve been doing. The Hexcore was what he called it. You didn’t understand it yourself—or cared much to learn about it. But you did notice some of your designs were used for his work.

“Mmm, you make me sound like a calculating stalker.” Viktor hummed as he got to his feet, joining your side. So, close his arm brushed against yours.

“Are you?” You quipped dryly while studying the Hexcore.

His slender fingers gently brush along your elbow. “I wouldn’t call myself a stalker, no. Are you interested?”

You glanced at him and realized he was talking about the Hexcore. “No. Just give me the why.”

Viktor hummed once more and leaned against the table, his fingers still brushing gently along your elbow. “For our home.” At that, you felt a tightness within your chest, your features falling slightly. Viktor, who had become very astute with your expression, gently grabbed your arm and squeezed it. “What’s with that face?”

You remember your life before the Academy. You remember your determination to prove Heimerdinger wrong. “Sometimes…I feel as if I’ve gotten too comfortable…too used to all of this….”

In the end, it was always your people above everything else. A revolutionary never dies, that was the simple truth.

“I think I’ve gotten too comfortable too.” Viktor frowned softly, tilting his head a bit to get a better look at your eyes when you averted your gaze. “And it’s all your fault, Miss Moon.”

You rolled your eyes only for him to lean forward and capture your lips with his. A lick of fire had been rekindled within you, breathing life into your soul, into your body. When he brought his hand to the back of your neck, when he practically cradled your face and brought you closer so he could deepen the kiss, when he touched you so gently as he always did, it was as if for a moment that heavy weight on your shoulders had been lifted. Leaving you weightless for even just a moment. That bit of relief was a breath of fresh oxygen in your lungs.

The heat from his lips moved from your mouth and down to your jaw and to the crook of your neck. Your back was pressed against the workbench as he practically clung and draped himself over you. And you let him. Even when he desperately wanted to feel you and kiss you all over, he was gentle. He always was.

The days didn’t change much except for whenever he was free, he’d head straight for your lab. Whether on a break or in a hurry, he’d always stop by and pepper your face with quiet kisses and touches before leaving for his lab. It was routine. You were getting comfortable. Comfortable in his warmth. In his gentle hold.

“Just stay,” Viktor murmured against your jaw as you examined some of his work with the Hexcore. “Your presence is better than that tea Jayce always makes.”

“I can’t, Heimerdinger wants to meet with me soon, and I got a bunch more new requests on my desk.” You hummed while looking through Viktor’s partner, Jayce’s, notes. “I think that Jayce guy requested some designs for a hammer of some kind—that’s been taking up most of my time as of lately so I can’t necessarily—”

“I know, I know,” Viktor rested his chin on your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment as he slumped against you.

His health had gotten worse, which was something you and everyone else noticed. It did worry you how much he was working lately without much sleep, but you quickly learned how much of a stubborn man he was—especially when it came to his work.

“What do you think Heimerdinger wants to meet with you about?” He voiced your constant question out loud.

“Don’t know.” You murmured, trying not to think too much about it—or his health right now. “Won’t know until I get there. Probably wants to send me back to Stillwater.”

At that, he pinched your waist, “Don’t joke like that.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Losing you is not funny to me.”

You placed Jayce’s scribbles down and wrapped your arms carefully around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder with a soft hum. He instantly relaxed in into your hold, but of course, you could tell his mind was still half Hexcore and half you at the moment. “Be sure to get some rest, okay?”

As usual, he gave a half-assed noise of slight agreement.

ACT II: REBEL MOON

It wasn’t long before Jayce Talis became the Man of Progress and Viktor became buried in his work. And then you were promoted. The lead architect of a very important project for Piltover. No longer the Rebel Moon but Hephaestus, Piltover’s future.

But.

But.

Everyone saw you as the kid saved from the Undercity and made a new. Everyone saw you as the future of their city. You were part of the progress of tomorrow. And you kept chasing Viktor, trying to keep up with his mind but he—he had become so work driven—so ambitious on the Hexcore dream that he had forgotten everything else.

You were angry. Angry at Piltover. Angry at what you’ve become. Angry at Viktor. This wasn’t the life you had chosen. All of this was envisioned for you. This wasn’t for you. You had nearly gotten so swept up in all the glamour and success that you had nearly forgotten—

No. You would never forget your people.

So, when your lab went up in smoke when you destroyed the project that you had been assigned to as lead architect, when the Enforcers tackled you to the ground and arrested you on the spot, when one of them grinned as if they’d been waiting—waiting for you to finally mess up, you knew right then that you would never be what Heimerdinger, what Viktor, or what anyone saw for you. You were a Zaunite after all. And a revolutionary. A rebel. Always.

It wasn’t long before you were placed back in Stillwater Hold. In the same cell. With the same shackles. You didn’t even get to tell Viktor goodbye. Would he have even realized it? Or perhaps, it was better off to leave him to his Hexcore dream. Perhaps, that was best. Yes.

But your mind was no longer settled with just staying in a cell and living out your sentence. One thing Piltover did give back to you was your fighting spirit. Rekindled your fire. And breathed life into your dead soul. And so, you weren’t quiet in the cell. You made noise. Cried out for war until the rest of the prisoners joined you. It wasn’t long before a riot broke out. The prisoners overpowered the guards, and you led them to escape.

The streets of Zaun were screaming for the Rebel Moon once more. Even now more so than ever when rumors began flying around about a rocket hitting Piltover, resulting in a few councilmembers’ deaths. Your thoughts wandered to Viktor, you wondered if he was okay, if he hadn’t killed himself working so hard. But your focus went back to your people. To the escaped prisoners as you all went into hiding underground. They followed you. Their chosen leader. You had no wish to be a leader, but you did want to be free and help your people.

ACT III: NONBELIEVER

Hiding in the Underground for months began to wear everyone down, even you—their supposed fearless leader. The sickness in the Undercity knew no bounds. Many of your people were getting sicker and dying as the days passed. You did your very best trying to supply and care for them—but you could only do so much.

That’s when you started hearing strange rumors about some healer in the Undercity. A herald or whatever that meant. At first, you didn’t think much of these rumors while being so focused on caring for your people.

Soon, sightings of strange people began appearing. Shouting about the Herald and how he could save their people. You were…wary of this. It almost seemed too good to be true. And you hadn’t seen these strange people yourself, so you thought it was all fake, stories made up to give the people false hope.

You came back from the small local market with more food than you could scrape up. Somehow, you’d have to figure out how to make it last throughout the month. But there were so many people. So many people are coming for refuge, and so many people in need of help.

“Are you the Rebel Moon?”

At the voice, you stop and glance over your shoulder, only to find no one there. Had you imagined it? Were you too wary after months of people coming to you and seeking refuge? The name Rebel Moon became a beacon of hope as much as it was for the name Jinx or that Herald.

Deciding it was just exhaustion messing with your head, you turn to continue forward, only to gasp and stop when you nearly ran into someone standing directly in front of you.

And they had appeared out of nowhere. It was a man that you didn’t know. His face void of any emotion except for a simple smile on his face, strange crystal-like fixtures embedded into his skin, while wearing white fabric far too clean to have come from the Undercity.

“You are Miss Moon, yes?” The man asked.

You stiffened. No one had called you that in a while. No one except… “Whose asking?”

The smile remained on the man’s face, “The Herald has been searching for you, Miss Moon. And he would like to speak with you.”

You gripped the basket of fruit and near stale bread in your hand and gritted your teeth, “I’m not interested, thanks.”

Just as you nudged past the man to continue down the crowded street, he spoke again. Only this time it wasn’t his voice coming from his mouth.

“You’re a hard woman to track, Miss Moon.”

It was like the air had been stolen from you as you whirled around to stare wide-eyed at the man with Viktor’s voice. The basket fell from your grasp, but the man was quick to catch it—somehow so fast—as he handed it back to you. “V-Vik?”

He nodded and slowly blinked, “I feared I wouldn’t see you again. You disappeared so suddenly, almost as if you weren’t there to begin with.” The man’s hand came up to gently brush his fingers along your jaw sending a sharp shiver down your spine. “Almost as if you never existed.”

You flinched almost and stepped back. Thoughts swirled within your mind as you tried to reel from the man speaking in Viktor’s voice. “What…what is this? How are you doing this?”

“I don’t want you to be frightened of me.” He instead said, taking another step forward but didn’t reach out to touch you again. “I only want to help you. I can save those people from that sickness.” You opened your mouth, ready to ask how he knew but stopped yourself which allowed him to continue, his voice gentle. “Only if you let me.”

“You’re the Herald.” It was mostly confirmation for yourself as you let the words slip out.

The man smiled softly, “I wish to see you again, Miss Moon. There is so much I wish to show you. But I will come to you first.”

Before you could ask what, he meant by that, the man’s voice returned, and Viktor’s voice was gone. “The Herald will come tomorrow, Miss Moon.”

And with that, watched this vessel of a man walk away. Leaving you feeling as if you were in some type of nightmare. No, alternate reality. It must’ve been some hallucination. Yes. That had to be it.

Only when the next day came, one of the children at your camp came running to you about the Herald being here, did you know right then and there that this was not a hallucination.

You watched as he entered your camp with those lifeless people that followed him.  Viktor had changed. Covered in indigo metallic skin, his hair slightly longer, his posture straighter yet still relying on a cane—or staff in this case.

Viktor’s eyes found yours almost instantly as if they were magnetically drawn to you. It looked like him.

“Miss Moon.” He hummed as he drew closer, staring at you with the same gentleness despite the distance in his expression.

It sounded like him.

You led him to the tent he would be staying in, watching the lifeless people tend to your people with baskets of fresh fruit and food. Viktor called your name in his accented voice, drawing your attention back to him, finding him already staring at you with an intense expression.

Even in this form, Viktor’s body couldn’t help but be pulled toward you. He let the staff rest while his hands slowly came up to trace and feel this human skin. Distantly he was all too aware of it. How he still reacted to you. With the remnants of Sky lingering in his mind, his thoughts had always wandered back to you. The image of your divine being. If he could still dream, it would’ve only been you he would’ve seen.

There was a strong pull that led him to you. Perhaps sensations of desperation. Even as he leaned his forehead against yours, feeling the little warmth coming from your body against his metallic yet pallid skin—he still wished to mold himself to you. To never stop touching you. To never let you slip from his fingers again

And then there was that look on your face. The furrow in your brow running heavy with exhaustion—you hadn’t slept. At that realization, his hand gently squeezed the side of your neck absently.

“You’re so quiet.” Viktor hummed finally, quietly for only you and him to hear in the stillness of the tent. His thumb traced your cheekbone. “You’re always keeping your thoughts from me.”

You tilted your head, trying to stir yourself out from the haze of his touch. “Are those…those people….are they the ones you ‘saved’?”

“Yet, so honest.” There was a hint of a smile on his face as he selfishly pulled your hand against his chest, keeping it there, selfishly. “Yes. They’re healed. No more…senseless pain. I can offer your people this peace. And you can come to stay at our new home. I think…you’d like it. You need peace.” He rubbed his thumb under your eye, making your shoulders grow heavier. “And rest.”

You couldn’t come up with a response. His lips linger on your mouth, and your jaw, and your neck. His fingers thread through your hair which had grown longer since the last time he had seen you. Gentle traces, cool breath fanning along your skin, his arms wrapping around your weathered and scarred form. Even your fingers traced his new skin. Refamiliarizing yourself with him.

But.

But.

It wasn’t him.

Even when his lips pressed gently yet hastily against yours, his body clinging to your human flesh, it still felt like a stranger. Familiar yet unfamiliar.

Confliction warred at your mind as you watched him move through the camp, your people looking at him as if he were a savior. As if the gods had sent him when it was only magic and remnants of the Hexcore embedded into his body. Your eyes couldn’t stop falling onto the lifeless people he ‘saved’. The ones that followed him without much thought. Would your people look like this? Void of themselves? No breath. No heartbeat?

But then you wanted Viktor. You wanted to go to this peaceful land he had created for himself and these people. You wanted to be with him. To be wrapped in his gentle embrace once more. To hear his voice whisper gently into your ear, easing the exhaustion from your muscles.

But.

But.

But.

Viktor reached out toward a boy. Sparks danced along his fingertips. The boy stared in awe. It was instant, your reaction.

Your hand grasped his wrist, stopping him. Viktor’s gaze met yours in an instant. You didn’t know what your face looked like, but it made Viktor falter.

Viktor saw your face and absolute dread filled him. A sense of it at least. It made his body go slack in your grasp—surrendering to you instantly. The glassiness of your gaze and that expression. He had never seen such a thing on your face. Fear. Desperation. Hurt. Sorrow. Grief.

He’d lost you. No. No. He’d…He’d get you back. He couldn’t let you go again…he couldn’t let…

What was this strange feeling in his chest?

You pulled him away from the boy and Viktor allowed himself to follow you. Gazes unwavering. But you forced the words out of your mouth. “This isn’t what I want for these people. This…this isn’t saving them…”

He couldn’t let you slip from his fingers.

You couldn’t let him take your people’s humanity.

He needed to keep you. To keep his humanity.

“Revolutions never rest.” Was your whisper as you released his wrist.

He called your name, but you forced yourself to turn your back on him.

“Show him out.” You murmur to one of the stronger men in your camp. You couldn’t turn back. You couldn’t look him in his eyes. If you did….

Then this conflict would disappear in an instant.

Viktor and his followers left without much problem. Maybe that hurts too.

The yearning for Viktor never left you and yet it wasn’t your job to bring him back. This Hexcore…all of it was beyond you. Maybe all of it wasn’t meant to be for you. Maybe…Maybe he wasn’t meant to be yours….

Days later you had heard the Herald had changed.

Days later the Herald was gone from this world.

Days later your exhaustion and grief wore on your shoulders.

Days later you’re trudging through the Undercity, more baskets filled with fruit in your arms.

Days later, you find a blue shard on the ground, somewhere near where Viktor’s utopia had been.

You picked it up from the ground, a remnant of what remained of Viktor and his work. You saw the manmade tents that were now abandoned, the builds similar to your past designs of what you wanted for the Undercity.

Silent tears fell from your cheeks as you gripped the shard. And you clutched the shard so tight in your hand that you could’ve sworn you felt a soft hum from it. Or maybe you were imagining things. Maybe you were too exhausted. Maybe you really did need rest.

And then.

You heard that accented voice.

“Miss Moon.”

Your breath hitched as the shard suddenly began to glow.

And Viktor’s voice came from it.

“May I show you something?”

And then. There was a bright blue flash.

@sadderall-xr @renn-pumkin-head @aise-30 @callingstars

[theonottsbxtch]

NO TIME TO DIE | OP81

an: okay so no one actually asked for this but i was listening to the song and it made me want to continue the skyfall series, this is set a few months after skyfall, enjoy!

wc: 4.5k

The sound of waves rolling in against the shore had become part of the rhythm of their days. It was peaceful here, tucked away on the coast of a quiet Mediterranean town. The sun-drenched pier stretched into the turquoise water, where Oscar worked hauling crates and helping local fishermen. It was nothing like the life they’d once known—missions, danger, codes whispered through secure lines. Here, they were just two people trying to blend into the ordinary world.

She wiped her hands on her apron, glancing out through the bar’s open window to catch a glimpse of Oscar by the docks. He was laughing with one of the fishermen, his tanned skin gleaming under the late afternoon sun. He looked happy. They both did. But a part of her could never fully relax. Even after months in hiding, there was always that nagging thought that someone, somewhere, was still watching.

The bar wasn’t busy today. A few tourists sat in the shaded corners, sipping drinks as they chatted over maps and travel guides. She moved behind the counter, mixing another round of cocktails for a group at the far end of the bar. The usual routine.

That’s when she saw him.

At first, it was just a glimpse—a man in a pale blue linen suit, sitting alone at the corner table. He hadn’t been there when she’d last looked. Something about the sharpness in his posture, the calm, predatory stillness, sent a wave of unease through her. She couldn’t place why until he tilted his head to accept the drink she was serving to him, and their eyes met.

Her stomach dropped.

It was Zak. Oscar’s old boss.

Her hands froze on the cocktail shaker, and she almost dropped it. The world narrowed around her as she fought to keep her expression neutral, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. He didn’t seem to recognise her. Not yet. But she knew it was only a matter of time. Her mind raced. Why was he here? Had he found them? Or was this just a coincidence, some cruel twist of fate?

For a second, she considered ducking out the back door, running to Oscar, and telling him to pack whatever they could and leave—again. But she couldn’t draw attention to herself. Not here, not now.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile and set the drink on his table.

“Your whiskey, sir,” she said, her voice steady despite the panic rising in her throat.

His eyes flicked up to hers, cool and calculating. He gave a nod of thanks, his gaze lingering a moment longer than she liked. Too long.

Her hands were trembling as she turned back toward the bar. She needed to get to Oscar—before it was too late.

Her heart raced as she stepped back behind the bar, her hands still shaking from the brief encounter. She could feel his eyes on her, watching, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew exactly who she was. She had to move—now.

With a quick glance at the handful of customers, she slipped into the small kitchen behind the bar. The second she was out of sight, she ripped off her apron and tossed it onto a counter. Panic surged through her as she moved to the back door, hands fumbling with the latch. Every second counted. She had to get to Oscar before they were trapped here. Before it was too late.

She pushed the door open—only for it to slam back shut in her face.

She stumbled backward, startled, and that’s when she saw him. Leaning against the doorframe, casual as ever, stood Lando.

“Not so fast, sweetheart.”

His voice was low, smooth, but laced with that same dark edge she remembered too well. His sniper instincts, the way he moved—silent and lethal. She hadn’t seen him since that night a mission months ago, she never forgot his face. Or how dangerous he was.

Her heart pounded as she took a step back, her hand instinctively moving to her side—only to realise she wasn’t armed. She had been in hiding too long, letting her guard down, forgetting what it was like to be hunted. And Lando, it seemed, hadn’t forgotten at all.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he stepped forward. "Oscar around? I’m guessing that Zak would love to have a chat with him, too.”

“Go to hell, Lando,” she spat, dropping into a defensive stance. Rusty or not, she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Lando lunged at her, fast and brutal. She dodged to the side, just barely avoiding the punch aimed at her face, but his movements were sharper than she remembered. He swung again, and this time his fist grazed her ribs, knocking the wind out of her. Pain shot through her side, but she didn’t let it slow her down.

She pivoted, using the cramped space to her advantage, grabbing a heavy frying pan off the nearby counter and swinging it at his head. He ducked just in time, but the clang of metal echoed through the kitchen. She swung again, this time catching him in the shoulder.

Lando grunted, staggering back, but he recovered quickly, grabbing her wrist and twisting it painfully. The pan clattered to the floor as she gasped in pain, but she used his moment of distraction to drive her knee up into his gut.

He cursed, doubling over, and she spun behind him, slamming his head into the edge of the counter with all her strength.

Lando collapsed to the ground, dazed but not out. She stood over him, breathing hard, her hands shaking. She couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

Grabbing her apron from the floor, she wiped the blood from her lip and then shoved open the door, her mind racing. She had to get to Oscar before they both ended up dead.

She burst out of the kitchen door, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her as she sprinted down the narrow path toward the pier. The salty breeze whipped through her hair, but the peacefulness of the day only sharpened the terror clawing at her chest. Her lungs burned, but she didn’t slow down.

"Oscar!" she screamed, her voice carrying over the gentle sound of the waves crashing against the pier. She could see him now, down by the boats, hauling crates with the other workers. He turned at the sound of her voice, his brow furrowing in confusion when he saw her running toward him.

The moment their eyes met, the panic in her face must have said it all. His expression shifted, his body tensing as he dropped the crate mid-lift.

Without a word, he pushed past the others, sprinting to meet her.

“Lando,” she panted as he reached her, “Zak. They’re here.”

Oscar’s face paled, his jaw clenching tight as he muttered a quick, “Fuck.”

There was no time for questions, no time to think. His hand found hers, squeezing it tightly for just a second before they both turned, running back up the pier, away from the watching eyes of the tourists and locals. Behind them, the distant sound of seagulls and lapping waves seemed to fade, replaced by the pounding of their footsteps as they raced through the narrow streets.

They sprinted through the winding streets, the cottage coming into view, small and peaceful under the shade of the olive trees. But peace was an illusion now, shattered by the presence of the ghosts from their past.

Oscar’s grip on her hand tightened as they raced up the steps to the front door. He pushed it open with a sense of urgency, the weight of danger hanging thick in the air. They stepped inside, breathing hard, and froze.

But someone was already there.

Sitting casually at the kitchen table, as if he’d been waiting for them the whole time, was her old manager. Toto. His sharp eyes gleamed with that familiar coldness, and a slow, knowing smile curled on his lips.

“You never struck me as the type to go rogue,” he said, his voice calm, almost amused.

Her blood ran cold. Oscar’s body tensed beside her, every muscle coiled, ready for action. She instinctively shifted her weight, preparing to move—but Toto raised a hand.

“Don’t try anything,” he warned, his gaze locking on hers. “Remember who trained you.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. He was right. She had spent years under his guidance, learning the tricks, the strategies, the ways to take someone down before they even saw you coming. But now, that knowledge was turned against her.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, but that was all it took.

Before she could react, she felt the sudden pressure of an arm wrapping around her throat from behind. Her instincts kicked in, but it was too late—one of her old teammates, Lewis or maybe George had her in a tight headlock, his grip ironclad.

Beside her, Oscar struggled, too, another agent pinning him from behind. She twisted, trying to fight back, but the scent of chloroform hit her nose, sharp and suffocating. Her vision blurred as she gasped for breath, her mind screaming to break free.

“Shh,” Toto said, standing slowly from the table, his voice soft, almost condescending. “I warned you.”

The last thing she saw before darkness closed in was Oscar’s eyes, wide with fury and fear, as the world slipped away.

When she woke, the first thing she felt was the cold. The floor beneath her was hard, unforgiving, and the air carried a damp chill that made her skin prickle. Her eyelids were heavy, her mind groggy, and for a moment she couldn’t remember where she was or how she’d gotten there.

Then it hit her.

The chloroform. The ambush. Toto.

She gasped, blinking against the darkness, her breath shaky as she struggled to sit up. Her head throbbed, her body sluggish, but she forced herself to move. The room around her was dim, lit only by the faintest light coming from a single bulb swinging from the ceiling. The walls were bare, metallic, industrial—no windows, no clear way out.

“Oscar?” she rasped, her voice hoarse.

There was a groan from her left. She turned, heart pounding, to see him stirring on the floor, just as groggy as she was. His eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused, but when they met hers, the same fear and confusion she felt reflected in his gaze.

“Where…?” Oscar muttered, struggling to sit up.

She crawled over to him, her hands trembling as she reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek in the dark. He leaned into her touch, relief washing over both of them in that brief moment. They were alive. For now.

But this wasn’t over.

“We need to get out of here,” she whispered, her voice low but urgent, her eyes scanning the dark room for any sign of an exit.

Before Oscar could respond, a crackling sound echoed through the room—a voice over an intercom, distorted but chillingly familiar.

“Don’t try it.”

Her heart lurched, recognizing that voice immediately.

“Good morning, love birds,” Toto’ voice continued, calm and almost cheerful. “You should be glad I got to you before Zak did. He would’ve killed you both, without hesitation.”

She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. Toto. The man who had trained her, the one who had made her into the operative she was. There had been a time when she’d trusted him with her life. Now, his voice made her blood run cold.

Oscar’s eyes snapped up, his hand moving to grip hers tightly. They were both wide awake now, adrenaline cutting through the haze of the drugs.

“I imagine you’re confused,” Toto went on, the sound of his voice bouncing off the cold, metal walls. “I would be, too. But don’t worry. All will be explained in time.”

She clenched her jaw, trying to steady her breathing, but anger simmered beneath her fear. Toto had always been a master manipulator, calm and collected even in the worst situations. He was doing it again now, playing with them, using his control over the situation to twist the knife deeper.

She exchanged a glance with Oscar. They needed to find a way out, fast, before Toto revealed whatever game he was playing.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Toto added, as if he’d forgotten. “There’s no use trying to escape. You’re not going anywhere.”

The intercom crackled, then fell silent, leaving them in the oppressive quiet of the dark room once more.

The room seemed to close in around them after Toto' voice faded. Every creak of the walls, every subtle hum of electricity, felt like a reminder that they were being watched. Oscar, now fully alert, squeezed her hand before shakily rising to his feet, wincing at the stiffness in his body.

“We have to move,” he whispered, his eyes darting around the dark room. “See if there’s a way out.”

She nodded, standing beside him as they quickly scanned the perimeter. The room was small, about the size of a storage unit, with no visible doors except the one they must have been brought in through. The walls were cold and metallic, and every surface was bare. No windows. No obvious cameras—but they knew Toto was watching.

Oscar moved to the door, running his hands along the edges, searching for weaknesses. She knelt beside him, checking the lower corner for any seams, anything they could pry open. Her heart pounded in her chest, knowing that Toto wouldn’t make this easy. He’d trained them to escape any trap, and now he’d set the perfect one.

After a few moments, Oscar cursed under his breath. “It’s reinforced,” he muttered, his voice low and tense. “We’re locked in.”

She bit her lip, fighting the rising sense of hopelessness that threatened to overtake her. Of course they were. This wasn’t just some warehouse—they were in a controlled environment. Toto had planned this.

“We can’t just sit here,” she whispered. “There has to be something he overlooked.”

Oscar turned to her, his eyes fierce despite the tension in his face. “We have to play along. For now. Buy time, make him think we’re falling in line, but the second we get an opening—”

The intercom crackled again, interrupting him. They both froze, staring up at the small speaker nestled in the ceiling’s corner.

“I see you’ve already started looking for a way out,” Toto’ voice echoed through the room, laced with amusement. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from my star pupil. But I’ll save you the trouble—there’s no escape from here.”

She gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to scream back at him. Oscar’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. Toto was playing with them, and they both knew it.

“You have questions, I’m sure,” Toto continued, his tone turning conversational, like he wasn’t holding them hostage. “Why now? Why like this? Well, the truth is… Zak’s become reckless. You’ve both become liabilities. I intervened to protect you, believe it or not.”

She exchanged a glance with Oscar, a flicker of confusion and anger passing between them. Toto had always been calculated, but this sounded personal. She didn’t know whether to believe him or to take this as part of some larger game.

Toto paused, as if giving them time to absorb his words. “You might not understand yet, but I saved your lives today. There’s a bigger plan at play here. One that you—especially you, schatz—can still be a part of. If you cooperate.”

Her stomach twisted. Toto had never let go of control, never failed to pull strings behind the scenes. Even now, after everything, he was trying to manipulate her. And worst of all, part of her knew he might be telling the truth—that Zak would’ve killed them without a second thought. But trusting Toto meant walking right into whatever trap he was laying for them.

Oscar shook his head, his voice low but firm. “We can’t trust him.”

“I know,” she whispered back, her eyes locked on the intercom. “But we need to figure out what he wants.”

The room fell silent again, but the weight of Toto’ presence lingered like a shadow over them. She scanned the space again, her mind racing, trying to think of something—anything—they could use to their advantage. There had to be a weak spot somewhere.

“We wait,” Oscar murmured, his voice tense. “Act like we’re playing along until we find a way out.”

She nodded, though the knot in her stomach only tightened. How long could they pretend? And how much of the truth was Toto actually telling them?

For now, all they had was time. And they both knew, in the world of espionage, time was rarely on their side.

The door opened with a loud clang, jarring them both from their tense silence. Two large guards stepped into the room, their faces unreadable, and gestured for Oscar and her to stand. They exchanged a quick glance, knowing that resistance would only make things worse for now. The guards led them down a long, dimly lit hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cold concrete walls.

At the end of the hall, a steel door slid open, revealing an interrogation room. The space was stark, lit by a single bulb hanging above a metal table with three chairs. In one of them sat Toto, waiting.

He didn’t look up as they were shoved inside and seated across from him, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. The guards exited without a word, the door clanging shut behind them. The sound of the lock clicking into place seemed to vibrate through the room, sealing them in.

For a long moment, the silence stretched between them. Toto watched them, his sharp gaze flicking between Oscar and her, studying them with the cold, calculated look of a man who knew exactly how to dismantle their defences.

“I’ll make this simple,” Toto finally said, his voice measured. “I have questions, and you’re going to answer them.”

She stared back at him, her pulse quickening, but forced her face to remain blank. The tension in the room was palpable, thickening with every passing second. Oscar, sitting beside her, was equally silent, his jaw clenched tight. They had both been trained for this—how to hold out, how to deflect. They weren’t about to give Toto anything, especially not after he’d taken them captive.

Toto raised an eyebrow at their silence, clearly unimpressed. “We can do this the hard way, if you’d prefer.”

Still, neither of them spoke.

His gaze settled on her, a flicker of frustration passing over his features. “What happened after the club?”

She clenched her fists beneath the table, her body tense. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Whatever he was fishing for, they wouldn’t give it to him—not without answers of their own.

Oscar leaned forward, his voice low and steady. “We’re not saying anything until you start talking, Toto. Why are we here? Why the hell are you playing this game?”

Toto leaned back in his chair, a small, amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You really think you’re in a position to make demands?”

She exchanged a quick glance with Oscar before narrowing her eyes at Toto. “You kidnapped us, drugged us, and now you’re sitting here asking questions like we’re supposed to trust you? We’re not giving you a damn thing.”

For a moment, Toto simply watched her, his smile fading. His expression grew colder, more dangerous. He tapped his fingers on the table once more before leaning forward, resting his elbows on the surface.

“You’re not grasping the situation, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. “You see, Zak wants both of you dead. Especially you.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the weight of his words. Oscar stiffened beside her, but she held her ground, her eyes locked on Toto. She had expected as much—knew how dangerous Zak was—but hearing it said out loud made it all the more real.

Toto’ gaze hardened as he continued. “He wants you gone because you seduced his best agent.”

Her stomach twisted at the accusation, but she didn’t flinch. This wasn’t just about their failed missions—this was personal for Zak. She had compromised Oscar, the agent he prized above all others, and now they were both paying the price.

“That’s why you’re here,” Toto went on, his voice uncomfortably calm. “He’s sent a kill order for both of you. I intervened, yes, but Zak’s patience is wearing thin. He’s not going to stop until you're both buried.”

Her mind raced, but she kept her expression neutral. She could feel Oscar’s tension beside her, his anger barely contained, but she knew they had to stay focused. This was a power play, and Toto had all the cards—for now.

Toto leaned closer, his eyes piercing into hers. “I can protect you from him. But you need to give me something in return. I need to know what you were doing after the club. Where you went. What you know.”

Oscar scoffed, finally breaking his silence. “So that’s it? You ‘save’ us, and now you’re holding us hostage? You’re no better than Zak.”

Toto’ lips curled into a cold smile. “I’m a lot better than Zak. Because unlike him, I don’t want you dead. But I need your cooperation.”

The room fell into silence again, heavy with unspoken tension. She knew they were trapped. Whatever deal Toto was offering, it was built on shifting sand. They couldn’t trust him, but Zak’s wrath was even more certain. They had been running for months, and now, they were backed into a corner.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she weighed their options. Toto was playing a game of survival, and right now, they were pawns.

“We need to be careful,” she whispered to Oscar, barely loud enough for Toto to hear.

She met Toto’ gaze again, her voice steady as she spoke. “You want to know what happened after the club? Fine. But first, we need guarantees. We want out of this. Away from Zak. Away from all of it.”

Toto’ eyes gleamed with interest. “I can make that happen. But only if you cooperate.”

Oscar looked at her, doubt flickering in his eyes, but she gave him a small nod. They had no choice for now. They would play along. But in the back of her mind, she was already planning—already thinking of a way to turn the tables.

Toto’ smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes. “You’re going to help me with one last mission. Complete it, and I’ll give you what you want: a clean slate. No Zak. No more running.”

Oscar tensed beside her, his jaw clenched, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. They had no choice but to agree—for now.

“Fine,” she said, her voice cold. “What’s the mission?”

Toto leaned back in his chair, looking far too satisfied. “You’ll be retrieving something important. A prototype from Zak’s latest black ops project. It’s highly classified, heavily guarded. I need operatives who can get in and out without a trace.”

She didn’t believe for a second that Toto was telling them the full story, but they couldn’t refuse. Not with Zak’s kill order hanging over their heads.

“And if we do this,” Oscar said, his voice tight, “you let us go?”

Toto nodded. “You have my word.”

She met Oscar’s eyes, seeing the same doubt reflected back at her, but they were out of options. For now, they would play along. But she was already planning—already searching for any way to turn this situation to their advantage.

It was less than a day before they were sent.

The mission took them to a heavily guarded compound on the outskirts of a nondescript industrial city. They moved through the shadows like they had so many times before, the years of training and fieldwork kicking in instinctively. But this time, the stakes felt different—heavier.

The compound was crawling with guards, just as Toto had promised. As they worked their way inside, disabling security and avoiding detection, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Toto had been too smug, too confident. There was something he wasn’t telling them.

And then they reached the lab.

The prototype they were sent to retrieve sat in a reinforced glass case at the centre of the room. It looked unassuming—a small, sleek device about the size of a palm. But she knew better than to trust appearances. This was dangerous, cutting-edge tech, something that Zak had been developing in secret.

“We got it,” Oscar murmured, reaching for the case.

Before she could respond, the lights flickered. Her heart leaped into her throat as the security system whirred to life, alarms blaring. The doors slammed shut, locking them inside.

“What the hell?” Oscar hissed, spinning around to scan the room.

And then, through the dim light, she saw him.

Lando.

He stepped out of the shadows, a smirk playing on his lips, his sniper rifle slung casually over his shoulder. Her blood ran cold. This wasn’t just a retrieval mission—this was a trap.

“Lando,” she growled, her body tensing, ready for a fight. “If you’re here to kill me, you better get in line.”

But Lando didn’t move toward her. Instead, his eyes flicked to Oscar, and something unsettling passed over his face—a look of cold determination.

“No,” Lando said softly, “I’m not here to kill you. At least, not yet.”

In one swift motion, he pulled a small syringe from his jacket pocket and lunged toward Oscar. She reacted instinctively, moving to block him, but Lando was faster. He sidestepped her, grabbing Oscar by the arm and plunging the needle into his neck.

“Oscar!” she screamed, but it was too late.

Oscar staggered back, his hand flying to his neck, eyes wide with shock. His body seized for a moment, his face contorting in pain. And then, just as suddenly, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

“What did you do to him?” she yelled, rushing to Oscar’s side. She shook him, her heart racing, but he didn’t respond. His breathing was shallow, his face pale.

Lando stood over them, his expression unreadable. “It’s not what you think. He’s not dead.”

“Then what the hell did you inject him with?” she demanded, her voice shaking with anger and fear.

Lando’s eyes darkened. “Something Zak’s been working on for a while. It’s a neural reboot. Wipes out memories, reprograms the mind for control.”

Her blood ran cold. “You turned him into a weapon.”

“Not me,” Lando corrected, his voice calm. “Zak. I’m just the messenger.”

She knelt beside Oscar, her mind racing. The man she loved—the man who had fought so hard to break free from this world—was now being dragged back in, turned into a puppet by Zak.

“How do I undo it?” she demanded, her voice shaking with fury. “How do I get him back?”

Lando’s smirk faded, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of something almost like regret in his eyes. “You can’t.”

She stood up, fists clenched, rage boiling over inside her. “I swear to God, if you don’t—”

Before she could finish, the doors to the lab burst open, armed guards flooding the room. Lando stepped back, disappearing into the chaos, leaving her standing there, helpless as they swarmed around her and Oscar’s unconscious form.

part two...

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @mochie85 divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Summary: It's been a long time coming... But now the day for you and Loki to say 'Yes' and enter the bond of marriage has finally arrived. A covenant for eternity.

Chapter One - Of Cakes and Dances

Warnings for this Chapter: fluff, bit of suggestive smut

Word Count: 2,6k

a/n: We officially start our road to the wedding, guys! 🥳 In this chapter we have some cake tasting and dancing. Enjoy! 🤗

A huge shoutout goes out in this chapter to @chennqingg ! She crafted the beautiful wedding invitation! Thank you so, so much, my friend! 💚

💍 Chapter Zero °☆• Chapter Two 💍

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• A Covenant for Eternity Masterlist (coming soon!)

A rather loud knock against the main door of Loki's (and now as well yours) apartment echoed through the hallway and rooms; even reaching you in the bathroom.

Not that this was a problem so 'early' in the morning - well, not usually, but today was Saturday and both you and Loki had your 'day off'. Given that fact, your fiancé was still sound asleep and you, well... You had just stepped out of the shower mere minutes ago.

"Gimme one minute, pwease!" You called out of the door frame; tooth brush in mouth.

After quickly getting dressed and at least halfway ready, you jogged towards the door; opening it slightly out of breath.

"Morning, babes!"

Natasha was standing in front of it; big smile on her face and a small sized parcel in her hand.

She immediately noticed your laboured breath and flushed face, of course - and Nat being Nat, she couldn't let this just pass.

"Had to dismount your princely stud first?" Your best friend asked boldy; throwing you a dirty smile and wink.

You blinked.

"What? I- No! Nat!" Once your brain had caught up you immediately 'defended' yourself; gently slapping her shoulder while laughing. "You and your dirty mind! Geez, I was just having a shower and about to get ready for the day. You were the one interrupting me and forcing me to hurry, babes! Besides is my..." You lifted your hands to draw quotation marks into the air, in order to quote Nat. "... princely stud still asleep."

The widow had done nothing but smirk and giggle while you had explained 'the situation'.

Now she shrugged her shoulders. "We both know it could've been both." "Oh shut up!" You giggled and then proceeded to hug her. Only halfway unfortunately, because the little parcel was kind of in the way.

"What have you got here?" You asked then; nodding at said rectangular carton box. "The reason why I am here." Your best friend smiled. "I was just returning from a run, when the postman delivered this for you - and I may have a guess what it is..."

The gears in your head were turning, until realisation hit you; eyes widening.

"The wedding invitations!" Natasha nodded. "Yup! I mean, it's about time they arrive. We've only got three months left..."

Three months... Three... Natasha was right. Only 85 days left until you were going to marry the love of your life.

"By the Norns... How did the year go by so quick? I could swear Loki just proposed to me and now we are already getting married?" Your best friend giggled, "Well, like I already said... It was about time for Loki to get that ring." and handed you the parcel. "If you need help with these... You know where to find me." The widow gave you a wink, then turned to leave. "I'll see you!"

You smiled. "Bye! And thanks, babes!"

Later that Saturday - after you finished your business in the bathroom and Loki had made it to leave the bed as well, the both of you took a look inside the parcel together. Until now, you had just seen a rough blueprint of the invitations and not the originals. Excitedly, you opened up the package - and couldn't believe your eyes. They were absolutely stunning. Beyond your expectations. "Baby, look at that..." You carefully took one in your hands. Loki just chuckled, "I am looking, darling." and leaned over to press a kiss against your temple. "I love them!" You stated; eyes still clued to the green and golden card.

The god nodded approvingly. "Indeed. They are beautifully crafted. More than fit for an invitation to a royal wedding."

You giggled. "Yeah? Are they fulfilling the princely expectations?" Loki gently squeezed your side. "Of course, love." "Shall we send them out then? It's time, isn't it?" He smiled at you; blue eyes shining with love and anticipation. "I'd be more than happy to do so."

You and Loki spent the rest of the day with folding the invitations, putting them inside an envelope, labelled said envelopes and of course send them out. Some of them were handed over personally and some reached their receiver with a little help of seidr.

Sending out invitations wasn't the only thing you and Loki had to still 'get done' for the wedding. Oh no... Two big things were still scribbled on the 'to-do' list - of which one was to practise your wedding dance.

You and Loki had already chosen the songs and a 'choreography' was made. The only thing what you still had to do now, was practising. Your soon-to-be husband hadn't really a problem - given the fact that he was a prince. He learned how to dance in his youth.

As for you... Well... You struggled a little bit, but you were confident. Plus, you had the best teacher...

"No, my love," the god spoke through the music with a chuckle; shaking his head. A snap of his finger later, the song stopped. "You..." He adjusted your arm around his shoulder gently. "...have to keep your arm like that. Unless I won't be able to lift you properly." You sighed. "Sorry, babe. Asgardian dancing isn't my cup of tea, I'm afraid." Once more Loki shook his head; the man bun keeping his curls from tickling your arm. "No, don't say that. You never danced like this before - of course you need more time and practice." "Yeah, but... We already practised this about ten times..."

Loki chuckled. "Yes and you're doing wonderfully. Do you wish to know how long it took me to learn all this?" You just nodded. "Over a year." That left you speechless. "Exactly. Now come on." Loki got into position. "Let's do it again." You agreed; getting into position as well. "At least I can waltz and we have to practice part two of our dance not remotely as much..." "You say that as if it meant nothing, darling. I'd be so bold and say that not every Midgardian woman can waltz." "Yes, but-" "Ah.Ah," Loki tutted; interrupting you. "No buts. You are my dancing queen." His words left you blushing, and before you were able to say something, he 'switched on' the music again.

You quickly tried to focus; recalling the dance steps you had learned already - and it worked. It really worked. You smiled as you moved with Loki over the rich marble floor in one of the dance halls in Asgard.

Practising in Asgard? Yes. Why? Loki insisted, since one: The actual dance would take place here as well, so it was better for the practice and two: Because the professional dance lessons (if you would choose to take some) were for free. Plus, nearly every Asgardian was a literal dance professional...

Since you (and Loki) wanted to keep things even and make a mix of an Asgardian and Midgardian wedding, the dance consisted of two components. You'd start with the Asgardian part and then switch over to the Midgardian. Two realms, two songs - and actually two dances. The waltz was no problem for you, but the Asgardian dance style was...

With the ending of the last tunes of the beautiful musical piece, you and Loki took your 'final position' as well. Your right arm draped over his shoulder; hand resting on the nape of his neck. His right arm was in the exact same position. Your forehead was leaned against his; skin on skin and eye to eye.

The god smiled, "Well done, love." and broke the position to catch your lips in a small, gentle kiss. "See? You did it." "Almost," you corrected him, but couldn't help but smile as well. Loki rolled his eyes - still with that smirk on his face, "We'll get to it, I promise." and took a step back. "Let's start again."

Loki distanced himself from you and got into position, with his hands crossed behind his back. Then he snapped and the song started from the beginning. The both of you started to walk towards each other graciously. Once you were an arm length away from your soon-to-be husband, you curtsied. Just like Loki took a bow. In rhythm with the music, your right palm found his left palm; forearm to forearm and other hand neatly resting on yours and Loki's back - and so you started to dance.

Loki slipped into a fresh t-shirt, while he made his way towards the bathroom. Knocking gently, he called out your name; gaining your attention.

"Love? Are you ready? We have to go in about ten minutes. Unless we'll be late."

Loki's 'wake-up call' caused your eyes to widen slightly. You may or may not have forgotten the time a little bit while showering... "I'm on my way, babe!" You quickly hopped out of the shower and into a fresh pair of underwear, before blow-drying your hair - at least a little bit (It was late summer, so actually not a big problem since it was pleasantly warm outside.), and got dressed in your baby blue summer dress.

Once you left the bathroom, your fiancé was already waiting for you; leaning against the wall with the car keys in hand.

"Are we ready?" You smiled and stepped up to him; winding your arms around his neck. "Eager to go?" The god chuckled. "It's about cake, darling. Of course I am eager."

You giggled and pecked his lips. "Let me just grab my purse and then we can leave." Loki nodded; watching you walk past him.

The two of you had an appointment today at the best pâtisserie in down town New York City in order to do a cake tasting. It was about the wedding cake, of course and you both agreed that it would be best to try some things first, before you'd decide about the interiority of the three-tier wedding cake. The design and decoration was already set and arranged with the pâtisserie. Now you and Loki had to do the 'fun' part... Tasting different fillings and flavours.

Your destination was a twenty minute car ride away from the Avengers compound. Give or take.

Luckily the traffic was not a complete chaos, so you made it to arrive in time.

The pâtisserie was bustling with people - of course. After all, it was the best in down town; yes, probably in whole New York City.

With your hand snugly wrapped up in Loki's bigger hand, you waited patiently in line until it was your turn. "Hi, we have an appointment for a wedding cake tasting," you explained to the friendly looking young man behind the counter. His eyes widened when he looked at you and Loki; recognising the both of you for sure. "Oh, uh, yes, give me a second, please..." He said nervously, looked down and seemed to search for something, until- "Ah, yes. Please follow me." You nodded with a smile. The young man's cheeks reddened and he smile bashfully back at you.

You and Loki followed him then to a little back room with two doors, a small grey sofa, white counter and some bar stools. The wall was painted in a beautiful shade of pastel orange and a few art pictures hung here and there. It looked quite neat and cosy.

"Have a seat, please." The man gestured towards the sofa. "Riley will be with you in a minute." You smiled, "Thank you." while your fiancé gave him a nod. Once more the young guy smiled shyly and fumbled nervously with his fingers. "It's an honour to have you here, Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Laufeyson."

For the first time since you entered the pâtisserie, Loki spoke up; leapfrogging you. "Well, it's a pleasure to be here." You silently agreed with the god; who still held your hand in a snug grip and made sure you were standing close to him.

Even though you were about to be married, he still showed the people who you belonged to. Guess some things never change, you thought with a smile; looking at your engulfed hand. You didn't care, though. Quite the opposite... Loki's slight possessiveness was attractive and admittedly sexy in your eyes.

The man opposite you blushed in a dark shade of red, "That's great to hear." before shuffling his feet. He was on the verge of leaving the room, but before he did, he turned around to face you and Loki once again; seemed now to have scratched all his bravery together and ask: "I-I know this is p-probably inappropriate to ask, b-but may I get an autograph l-later?"

You smiled brightly. The guy was kinda cute, you couldn't deny that. "Of course. Just hit us up before we leave again."

The young man's eyes twinkled with happiness - and relief. "T-Thank you." Then he left the little room and you and Loki alone.

About five minutes later, the other door at the side wall opened and in came a woman in 'workwear', bright pink hair, glasses and quite a few piercings.

You and Loki were sitting on the sofa - like instructed; hands still intertwined and resting in your lap. Your free hand was on Loki's thigh, close to his knee. When you saw the woman, you both stood up.

"Hi there!" She said in a happy, enthusiastic tone and crossed the distance to meet you and shake your hands. "I'm Riley, we talked on the phone. Nice to meet you." You shook her hand, smiling. "Y/N and Loki." The friendly woman winked, "I know." shook Loki's hand as well and gestured for the counter with the bar stools. "Shall we move over?" "Sure." You and the god followed her. She went behind the counter and you both got comfortable on the stools.

"Alright!" Riley drummed her fingertips slightly on the wooden surface; smiling. "We already talked about your wedding cake in general a few months back. All that's missing are the fillings - and that's why you're here today. I prefer to do that in terms of a tasting, because it guarantees that the cake is really after your taste. But, before we do that I have to ask if you'd like to make any last minute changes, regarding the style or decoration of the cake?"

You and your fiancé exchanged a look and simultaneously shook your heads. "No, it's perfect the way it is."

Riley clapped her hands. "Alright. I'll go, fetch the things we need and then we can start, yes?" "Perfect, thank you."

Just a few minutes later, she returned with a big tray full of small, round cakes. They were neatly arranged and, of course, labelled. Riley put the tray down on the counter in front of you and Loki. Your eyes roamed over the different cakes with their different fillings and you just couldn't wait to taste them.

"Okay," started Riley with a smile. "I put together a wide range of different stuff and flavours. We've got some classics like vanilla, chocolate and strawberry, but also a few special - some might say exotic flavours like mango, melon and matcha, and of course some which are refined with alcohol and coffee."

"Start which whatever you like." That was a sentence you and Loki didn't let yourself tell twice. You dived right in, always splitting the tiny cake in half and tasted the delicious treats.

Both, you and your soon-to-be husband didn't think that deciding on three different flavours for your wedding cake was that difficult - but by the Norns, it was. Almost everything just tasted absolutely wonderful and exactly that was the problem - and that you and Loki had different favourites...

"Okay, okay..." You said, taking a deep breath. "Compromise, babe. You decide on the top cake, I get the bottom one and we choose the middle together?" The god nodded; giving you a smile. "Agreed."

In the end, Loki chose chocolate-mint, you mango-maracuya and together you decided on something with a little kick - Baileys. Three completely different flavours, hopefully one for everybodys taste.

Here's the beautiful invitation @chennqingg designed!

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake (Continuing in the comments!)

[choicesficwriterscreations]

June Creator of the Month: Thosehallowedhalls

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month is @thosehallowedhalls.

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I can't remember exactly. 2021, I think? Laws of Attraction was on its tenth chapter.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined in January of this year. I was upset with Crimes of Passion 2, so I wrote a couple of stories about it. I had deactivated my old Tumblr long ago, so I had to open a new one.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

I love old buildings - the history, the ambiance. I tried hallowedhalls, but it was taken, so I added the article.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

I… have zero recollection of this post. But I'm big on nostalgia and mourning past times, so the fact that this was my first post tracks.

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. I've been teaching myself to draw, but I'm not anywhere near close to sharing what I do.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing fanfiction way back in… 2010? For about four or five years. Then I stopped until December 2023.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Crimes of Passion on both counts.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

That would be The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm, inspired by The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. I do still like it, but I would tighten up the writing a bit. I had barely written any fiction for several years at that point, and the lack of practice shows.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

I keep going back and forth between The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm and Home Without. Both are angsty short series.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I was taken aback by the comments on The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm. I'd posted it on AO3 a few weeks before, and had gotten a handful of kudos and one comment, but within 24 hours of posting it here, I had several lovely reblogs. It was a welcome surprise. Stories with fewer comments… I guess Home Without. The first chapter got quite a bit of love, but by the time the final chapter rolled around, fewer people were interacting.

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I love a balance, but I'd say angst with a happy ending. I enjoy the breadth of emotions angst lets you explore.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are bits and pieces of me in all of them. Emma has my sarcasm, and Raine has my need to look for the best in people. There may be more, but if so, it wasn't done intentionally.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Perfectionism. Like I said before, the lack of writing practice shows. I know that the only way to get better is to keep writing, but I hate seeing the gap between what I do and what I want to do. Catch-22.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

My Sebastyan x Emma fic, Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies. There are only a couple of chapters left, but I've been struggling with it for a couple of months now.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Oh, hell no.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

So many writers have influenced my writing throughout the years, including authors I do not currently read. The Brontë sisters, Charles Dickens, Nora Roberts, Jane Austen, Courtney Milan, Alyssa Cole… I could go on and on. Fanfic writers… There are a lot, but off the top of my head, @inlocusmads, @coffeewithcutcaffeine, @gaiuskamilah, @aria-ashryver, @jerzwriter, @dutifullynuttywitch, @aces-and-angels, @petalouda85, and @storyofmychoices. I know there are more.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Home Without. I'm a sucker for good pining, and I'd love to see all that mutual longing play out onscreen - not to mention that reunion.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I do. I'm currently working on a horror short story, a MG novel, and a dual timeline mystery that's still in the research stages.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, non-fandom writing, drawing, learning new things (especially languages!), going on walks, and drinking enough coffee to alarm medical professionals anywhere.

[euphoricsleeplucidity]

I initially didn't want to post this anywhere for reasons, but well, here we are. Likely out of character, so just a warning. But, enjoy some good ol' Oilrose angst!

J slides down the wall of the pod, her fists clenching, the claws at the tips of her servos digging into the metal of the palms of her hands, drawing a small trickle of oil from the marks. She feels like she wants to cry, and she doesn't even totally understand why. She doesn't understand why she's been feeling like this lately. She should be fine, she'll leave the planet soon, inevitably die. But her core beats so rapidly against her chest as if it's going to jump out, and is she panicking?

A memory plays.

-MEMORY.log// "J. I love you," V says carefully, firmly, enunciating every syllable, her yellow eyes gleaming with sincerity, and yet the leader steps back.

"What?" Is J's response, taking another step back, her voice full of disbelief. Is this what her subordinate seriously wanted to meet for? She had-. She had other things to attend to (she didn't, the sun would rise any moment now). She steels her expression, gaze hardening. Looks away. "You can't," she hisses, a frown playing across her lips.

"Really? I can't?" V questions, tone smug, cocking her head, quirks a digital brow. She's smirking, J can observe as she glances at her.

J swallows. Why did her subordinate complicate this, this time? Why… now? No matter, they were almost done on this planet-. V's memories would be erased soon. "I-," J pauses, changes her wording to ones of confirmation instead, repeats, "you can't."

She doesn't elaborate. One last step back. Her wings deploy.

V looks hurt, and J thinks that she can vaguely hear a quiet utter of her name but she doesn't want to care.

J takes off with a quick downwards thrust, tries to ignore the guilt that creeps up on her.

A tear animates and falls down her visor, finally.

Another memory plays.

-MEMORY.log// And V kisses her, rough and heated, slams her against the wall of the corpse spire, tail coiling itself around her waist to keep her in place with the canister settling at her side. J shivers, places her hands against her subordinate's chest, considers shoving V away, but it feels nice… V's lips moving against hers with such pent-up aggression and raw emotion, and the leader hesitantly reciprocates, moving her hands up to squeeze V's shoulders. Finds herself… accepting it.

V growls into the kiss, before finally pulling away, leaning her forehead against the leader's, eyes narrowed. "Don't you get it, J?"

Yet, the leader shakes her head no. Tongue feeling as if it's too heavy in her mouth to allow her to speak.

"I still love you, you… idiot," V mutters quietly.

Normally, J would scold her for the insult. But she doesn't even register it, those words serving to bring J back to what happened all those months ago. She remembers? And why does V insist on playing with her emotions like this?

…

Suddenly it all makes sense.

The realization almost makes her hysterical-.

V loves her.

And she loves V, too, doesn't she?

They are bonded rather closely.

She'd go as far as to say she enjoys V's company.

She's tried to deny it for so long.

And now she breaks. Leans into V, who opts to wrap her arms around J, uncoils her tail so that it sways behind her.

More tears animate. Fall down her visor. On shaky legs though, she stands. Her hands shift out, replaced by three hooked talons. She still leans against the wall, those very talons digging into the metal of the pod, piercing it. Damage she'll have to fix later.

And another memory plays.

-MEMORY.log// They sit on the rooftop of some tall building, staring at the ringed moon of Copper-9 as it illuminates the planet. The disassemblers lean against each other, both of them with soft smiles on their faces, so unlike their usual selves. But well, it is just them out here.

Although hesitantly, even awkwardly, J moves her arm to wrap it around V's middle, pulling her even closer.

"This is nice," V mumbles quietly.

"Mhm," J hums in agreement, her hand rubbing comforting circles against V's back. "Love you," she mumbles.

"I love you, too," V giggles happily, smugly. J rolls her eyes, though it's playful.

J snarls, wants to break something but there's nothing around and she really doesn't want to break the only chair within the pod.

She ruined it all. And for what?

Because she believed that there was truly no escape.

Hah.

She really is an idiot.

-MEMORY.log// She looks down upon her subordinate.

"Well, I never needed either of you," J coldly utters, tries to protect herself, and yet she hates the look of hurt and betrayal that crosses V's expression just before her missile launcher fires.

It makes contact.

J noticed the bond that V now harbors with N and that… worker, evident during their fight (and after, when J watched them from the shadows).

She finally has something that J could never give her, doesn't she?

J never really was… affectionate.

And honestly, neither was V.

But that doesn't matter, does it?

The leader always was selfish.

And in the end, J ruined it by betraying them in the first place.

She really screwed up.

And she could never fix it.

When this stupid spaceship is fixed, she'll be long gone.

Forgotten.

Because there was just no point in staying.

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

Again

pairings: kim sunoo x reader

synopsis: kim sunoo had decisions he regrets before. and so when given a ‘second chance’ he made sure he won’t make the same mistakes again.

word count: 5k

warnings: contains yandere themes, curses and mention of murder.

note📎: i may or may not got carried away on writing this one. i didn’t know sunoo and the word yandere can fit so well. anyway, i hope you enjoy this one. let me know about your thoughts by sending asks to me. thank you and have a nice day/night 🤍

© 2023 eeunoia — all rights reserved.

“Sunoo, sweetheart.” his Mom greeted him as he enters their dinning area. He gave him a short glance then dropped a quick kiss at her head before heading towards his usual sit.

“Yeah?” he ask then the helpers attend to him right away, serving him his breakfast.

“Your doctor called me last night.” she starts and Sunoo draws a strained sigh before looking away from her. “She said that you didn’t visit again last saturday for your session. You’ve missed months of therapy.” she sounded so worried.

He didn’t say anything and just kept his eyes over his plate while his hand plays over his utensil.

“Are you drinking your meds?”

Sunoo sighed, starting to get annoyed with the continuous questions his Mom are throwing him. He tried to flash her a small smile despite the irritation before answering her.

“I am drinking my meds, Mom. Don’t worry.” he looked straight to her eyes so she can see that he’s sincere about it. “I will visit my doctor soon.”

She kept her worried stares at him for a while before finally nodding her head. The two of them then continued eating breakfast, diverting the topic about something else. Sunoo’s glad his Mom don’t pester him more about the stupid medications and sessions. He’s so done with it. Does his parents don’t trust him? Does he seem unwell for them? He’s fine. He’s perfectly fine.

“I’ll see you later for dinner, son.” she caress his cheeks and he just nods at her before they both go on separate vehicles.

Sunoo waved at his Mom’s car as her driver drove it out of their driveway. His smile fell the moment it disappeared out of his sight. He stood there for a bit more and just stared at nothing. He sighed then unlocked his black range rover to get inside.

While on the way, his mind went over to what his Mom was talking about. His doctor is such a snitch. He did made himself clear last 3 months ago that he won’t visit again. Why does she have to call his Mom? Now, she’s worried over nothing.

When he got hold by a redlight, he fished his phone then dialled his friend’s number. It rang two times before he answered.

“What’s up? Isn’t it too early for you to call?” Jake.

“Can you do something for me?” he ask straight to the point.

He heard him draws in a sigh, “Depends. What is it?”

“Get Doctor Cha fired for me. She’s getting in my nerves.” he said.

“Your psychiatrist?" he sounded so confused why he suddenly wants her fired.

“Mhm,” he hummed as answer and glanced at the traffic light when it turned green. He was about to step on it when the car behind him honked at him like crazy.

He looked over the side mirror and smirked with no humor. He drove and saw that the car was still behind him. Sunoo tries to focus on his friend while thinking of how to deal with the vehicle behind him. How dare that person honked at him using that ugly ass car.

“She called my Mom and now she’s pressuring me to go see that doctor again.” the bitterness over his tone was evident. Jake couldn’t help but to chuckle at what his friend said. He just can’t with Sunoo’s patience. He can get irritated too easily.

“All right, I’ll see what I can do.”

He decided to pull over to the side and Sunoo’s eyes followed the car when it overtake his car. He made sure to remember that plate number so he can take care of them later.

“Thanks, dude.”

“No problem.” and he ended the call.

His attention went over to his phone background. It was a picture of a smiling girl. Not just any girl. For Sunoo, she’s the prettiest out of all the girls he had ever met. Too bad, she left him.

His fist balled and jaw clenches as he carefully caress his thumb over his phone’s screen. “If only you’re here...” he mumbled softly, yet the hint of pain lingers in every word. “I wouldn’t need any of these. I would only need you.” he added.

Sunoo decided to stop over a café before he went to his class. Since the encounter a while ago stressed him a bit. He wouldn’t want to attend class with a bad mood. He needs to freshen up.

“Good day Sir, may I take your order?” the lady at the counter asks with a bright smile. Sunoo didn’t waste any time to say his order and he was asked to wait.

He tried to busy his phone while waiting on the line for his order. Minutes after, he heard his name being called by the cashier. He locked his phone then lifts his gaze to accept his order.

“Thank you.” he softly said then turned around.

“Oh my gosh!” you gasps when you suddenly bumped into someone because you’re in a hurry.

You are stoned in your position while looking at the mess you just did. The boy’s coffee is now all over his uniform. His head was hanging low, looking at his now stained polo. He cursed inside his mind and can feel his head turning hot.

He can’t believe it. ‘Can this day be any worst?’ Sunoo thought to himself. He pursed his lips tightly, trying to control his anger. He can still hear you mumbling incoherent words. It was obvious that you are panicking. Well, you should be.

“I am truly sorry!” your words snapped him back to reality. He slowly raised his head to look at you.

He was so ready to burst out his anger, but instead no words came out of his mouth. His heart stopped and his stares remained at your worried face. You are trying to get tissues from your bag as you start to catch the attention of some of the workers of the shop.

Sunoo’s mouth fell open at the sight in front of him. He couldn’t believe it. He’s out of words. He don’t know what to say or what to feel first. Is this even happening?

“H-Here, I have tissues. Oh my gosh, your shirt is stained..” you reached over his shirt and tried to even fix the mess you just caused.

“J-Jane?” your hand halt from what you were doing and you eyed the guy in front of you.

He have this unexplained look on his face. Like the look of being reunited with someone after a long time. You showed him an awkward smile.

“I’m s-sorry, but you must have got the wrong girl. My name is y/n.”

“Thank you so much, Sunoo! You don’t know how you just saved this day.” you gave him this warm smile. He pulled over in front of the gate of your school and smiled at you.

Your stomach churns at the sight of the handsome man beside you. He offered to give you a ride after knowing that you are very late for your class. It’s exams today so you couldn’t bear to be late. Thank God, Sunoo is so nice to help you even after you spilled his own drink over him.

“No problem. I’m glad I could help.” he said.

You nodded and quickly grabbed a pen and a paper to write your infos. He watched you silently then wait before you handed it to him.

‘Y/n.’ he read your name silently inside his mind. Below it is some of your social media accounts and number so he can contact you.

“I’m really sorry again for your shirt. You can pm me about the bill to get it cleaned. I will surely pay for it!” you said and unclasped the seatbelt.

“I told you, there’s no need for that.” he says that you quickly disagreed on.

“Please! You already saved me, at least let me treat you for lunch or something!”

His face lighten at your suggestion. “That I can’t say no.”

You beamed and pushed his door open. “That’s great! See you then!” and you left after sending him a small wave of good-bye.

Sunoo stayed for a moment and watched how you entered the school. His eyes are warm and he couldn’t stop himself to feel so happy. He felt excited and thrilled. A lot of things are going on inside his mind. Its a little overwhelming, but that doesn’t matter. What’s important is that he saw you. He found you, again. And he will never ever let you get away from him.

“Woah, what happened to you?” Sunoo threw a short glance over his friend when he walked closer and noticed his ruined shirt.

To his surprise, he isn’t in the bad mood like how he expects him to be. His friend knew how he hates it whenever his clothes gets dirty and just by the looks of it, someone must’ve spilled their drink over him. Sunoo wouldn’t let it pass easily. It needs a miracle for that person to be saved from his wrath.

“Hi.” Sunoo says in a light voice then tried to find a spare shirt inside his locker.

Jake blinked a couple of times and tilted his head over to the side. Totally confused.

“Hi? That’s all it? What happened to that?” referring to his awfully stained shirt.

“Oh! This? Y/n accidentally bumped onto me causing my drink to spill over my shirt.” he explains like it was nothing.

“And you’re okay with it?” Jake asked totally weirded about the fact that Sunoo was not going ballistic over it.

He nodded his head, a small smile present over his lips. Jake shakes his head.

“And who the fuck is y/n?” he’s now curious about this girl who made Sunoo act like this. This isn’t normal. She must have something to do with this.

Sunoo smiles wider when he found a new shirt. He pulls it out from his locker then smiled to his friend. “My Jane. She came back, Jake. She came back to me.”

Jake’s face instantly turned worried for his friend. He shut his eyes and sighed before tapping him over his shoulder.

“Sunoo, look man,” he starts. “Are you taking your meds?”

The smile over Sunoo’s lips disappeared and his eyes grew cold. “Why do everyone needs to be so annoying? I don’t need those stupid pills! Specially now that I have her back.”

He swat his hand away and start walking towards the comfort room. Sunoo even walks across with some of his friends but he ignored all of them then just proceeded on his way. Jake’s eyes follows his friend in total silence. He is very worried and concerned about his behavior.

“What was that? What happened to him?” Jay asked curiously. Sunghoon stood beside him silently, together with Ni-ki.

“He said he saw Jane.” Jake announced that made all of them furrow their brows in total confusion.

They all decided to just deal with it later on. The students were asked at the school auditorium for an emergency announcement. Sunoo was there when they all arrived and they go straight to him. He isn’t mad anymore and just smiled. Jake just tried to shrug what his friend said a while ago.

“I called all of you here because of a special announcement.” the principal spoke over the mic, catching everyone’s attention.

“Someone from our school went missing yesterday. I am asking for your help. The authorities will come to our school later on so if you have any leads about (girl’s name), then feel free to step in my office.”

Sunoo tries hard not to show any suspicious expressions then eyed Sunghoon. He’s looking at the stage. To the large picture printed by the girl’s family and friends. He was looking at it intensely. He taps his friend’s shoulder then leaned closer.

“So you did it, huh?” Sunoo whispers.

Sunghoon’s lips lifted a little before shrugging his shoulders off. “I’d like to watch them go crazy searching for her while she sleeps soundly at my basement.” he mumbles that made a soft chuckle out of Sunoo’s lips.

“I should ask you for advice. I could use some of it.” he said and your pretty face pops inside his mind.

Sunghoon pursed his lips and tilts his head over to the side. “Speaking of. Jake said you saw Jane?”

Sunoo nodded his head, eyes sparkling just by your name being mentioned.

“Well, her name is y/n. Don’t call her Jane anymore because it’ll upset her.” he draws in a sigh then leaned backwards. “I really think God brought her back to me because I’ve been very good the past few months. Don’t you think?” He glanced over his friend, waiting for his answer.

Sunghoon nods his head, “Probably. What’s your plan?”

Sunoo trailed his eyes back to the stage as the principal’s incoherent speech became their background. “Be her friend. This world is so dangerous, Hoon. She needs me around.”

Sunghoon snaps his head back to the stage as well as the best friend of (girl’s name) is now giving her speech. A small smirk plays through his lips.

“It is a dangerous world.”

“I’m sorry, were you waiting for so long?” you ask while settling your things at the vacant chair beside you.

Sunoo smiles, “No. I just arrived a few minutes before you.” he lied. He couldn’t wait to see you again and so he stalked you for a while then go here at the restaurant.

You let out a sigh of relief then smiled at him. “So what do you want to eat? My treat!” you sound excited and so he couldn’t help but to smile as well. You looked so adorable.

He slid a glass of water towards you, “I’ll order, but you should drink some water first. Its hot outside, you must’ve been tired from all that running.”

Your heart faltered at how caring he is. With a blushing cheeks you drink from the glass and the two of you ordered. The whole dinner was fun for you. He’s totally nice and well mannered. You can tell right away that he’s from a wealthy family. From how he dress and talks. Surely, he is well off.

You didn’t realized how long you two were together, but it seemed too short. The conversation just keeps on going. It was crazy how the two of you just clicks with each other. This may sound crazy, but its like he’s someone you met from before. You admit, you may have a little crush on him!

“Sunoo, huh?” your friend gave you this teasing smile while she put down her things at the table in the library.

Its been a whole week of meeting and spending time with Sunoo. It was going so well, that your friend took notice of how you’ve always been in a good mood ever since. You can’t help but to tell her about him.

“Yeah. He’s so great!”

She nodded her head and sat down. “Mhm. Kim Sunoo...” she trailed then furrowed her brows a little. “Why do I feel like I’ve heard that name before?”

You opened your textbook, “His parents are very wealthy so you must have heard his name from tv or read it on tabloids.”

She shrugged her shoulders off, “You’re probably right. Tell me more!” she sounded excited and a big smile crawled over your face before you started telling her stories about you and Sunoo. Your mission to study, now long forgotten.

”Bye, y/n!” your friend waved at you as you walk towards Sunoo. He’s leaning over his car while patiently waiting for you.

He glanced at your friend and she gave her a small wave. Sunoo smiled and nodded his head insincere. Your friend’s smile faltered a bit, sensing something about him. When you glanced at Sunoo, he smiled brightly then meet you half way to help you with your stuff.

He opened the door for you. Even if he did this a lot of times already, you couldn’t help but to blush every time.

“How’s your day, pretty?” he asks and buckles his seatbelt.

You smiled, “Good! We have a lot of things to study. Ugh I hate out biology teacher.” you ranted that made him chuckle.

“You’re doing so well. You deserve a treat. Ice cream?”

“You are really my savior.” you mumbled and leaned in to give him a kiss at his cheeks. It made him happy, very happy.

And that’s the start of your unexpected relationship with Sunoo. You don’t have a clue when you started to feel this comfortable and happy around him. It just did. Days, weeks and then a month passed by and he didn’t changed. He remained the same sweet and caring Kim Sunoo. You must admit, he totally got your trust. You are falling for him.

It may not be noticeable by you, but to your friend it is. This thing that’s going on with Sunoo and you is bothering her. Yes, she can see that you are happy and as your friend, of course she is happy for you. Its just, Kim Sunoo. There’s something with the way he looks at her whenever she hangs out together with you. She couldn’t point out what it is, but she’s uncomfortable about it. She sense that something’s wrong with him.

She did tried to mention this with you, but you get defensive about. Saying that he’s just shy around new people and etc. There even a time where you totally got pissed at her for talking nonsense. That rarely happens. You aren’t the type to be pissed at her over these things. For some reasons, she feels like Sunoo’s taking you away from her.

One day, when you got stuck over some school project and you have to stay behind late, you suddenly started to get followed by someone. You are very scared and started to panic. Your phone died hours ago already so you can’t use it to call anyone for help. It is also pretty late so there are no one on the streets.

You thought something bad will happen to you when thankfully, Sunoo appeared and save you. He hugged you tightly and mumbled comforting words to calm you down. You are a crying mess, but you feel relieved that he was there for you.

“What?!” you heard your friend exclaimed from the other line after you informed her about what happened.

You sniffed and watched over Sunoo who’s busy preparing a meal for you at your kitchen. A smile creeped over your lips.

“Yeah, thankfully Sunoo was there to save me.” you said that made her brows furrow in suspicion.

“Did you call for him?” she asks.

“No. I told you my phone died hours ago, mainly why I only called you now.”

That’s what she has to hear to confirm it that you didn’t have a phone to use to call him.

“Why is he there?” she ask the million-dollar question that’s been bothering her from the start.

“He was taking a walk.” you answered what Sunoo told you a while ago when you asked him the same question.

“At this time? Y/n he even lives far from your place! How come he is coincidentally walking over the street at that time of the night and bump into you?” clearly, things aren’t making any sense and you are too ignorant to understand it.

“I don’t know! Aren’t you just happy that he saved me and that I’m okay?” you’re starting to feel upset.

She sighed and shut her eyes. “Right. I’m sorry y/n. I was just really worried. I will just change and go there, okay?”

You pouted, “Okay.”

The moment you dropped the call, the thought didn’t left your best friend’s mind. She’s sure that something’s wrong him and she won’t just sit here and let you be in trouble.

She quickly opened her laptop and went to search for any useful information about Kim Sunoo. She had done this weeks ago, but she stopped because she feels like she’s betraying you for actually thinking ill of someone that makes you happy. But now, she knew she had to do this. She needs to dig more.

After searching and searching, she almost gave up but then one single article caught her eyes. It was almost impossible to find and have no attention. She clicked it and hand flew over her lips as she read the big letters of the letters of the article.

“Shit.” she mumbled and quickly grabbed her keys to go drive towards your place.

“You feeling all right?” he asks softly and you nodded your head with a small smile. He nodded and placed a gentle kiss at your forehead.

“Yes.”

You two stared at each other’s eyes, nobody dares to look away. You can feel your heart thumping fast, thousands of emotions occupying your chest. Having him this close to you just makes you feel safe.

You got pulled out of trance when you heard the doorbell rang. Both of you turns your head at the direction of it.

“That must be (friend’s name).” you told him.

He flashes you a smile. “Great. I’ll let her in then you two can talk here in your room while I do the dishes.” he says then pats your head before he go open the door for your friend.

When the door swings open, she’s not surprised to see Sunoo. He have this same smile over his lips that she can’t explain. She smiled back and tried to not act too obvious. “Hi! Thanks for safely getting her home. Where is she?” she asks.

Sunoo didn’t replied right away, but then opened the door wider for her. “At her room.” he finally said then lets her inside.

Her steps felt heavier as she go in the apartment. She gulped and smiled before saying that she will just go and talk to you.

Your friend closed your bedroom door right after she managed to get inside.

“Y/n, I need to tell you something.” she whispered and even roamed her eyes around anxiously.

Your brows furrowed, finding her actions a little weird.

“Why are you whispering?”

She shushed you and held both of your hands. “Listen, don’t freak out. You have to come with me. We have to leave.” she continued whispering.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” you are starting to feel anxious as well.

“Its dangerous here. I don’t have the time to explain, we just have to go leave. Now.” her tone sound so serious and you can see in her eyes that she’s really scared.

It made you worried too. You’ve never seen her this way before.

“Wait. Where’s Sunoo? Is he all right? We have to tell him!” you exclaimed worriedly and stood up to come and get him.

Your friend grabbed by your arm to stop you. “Stop! No! You don’t understand,” he said and made you stop completely.

“HE is the danger.”

You stared at her with a confused expression that slowly turned into an unamused one. You sighed, “This again? Really? How many times will I have to tell you? Sunoo is the one who saved me!”

You are slowly getting tired of her telling you that there’s something wrong with Sunoo. This is getting out of hand. She’s seriously trying to break you two apart. Sunoo was right. She doesn’t like him for you and now you are doing this stuff to make you hate him.

“No! I’m sure now! I have proof,” she said, eyes starting to water. She go through her phone’s galler to find a screenshot she just took.

You shoved her hold away and moved back, “Leave.”

Her eyes darted at you. “Y/n...” she starts and took a step closer. “Its him! He’s trying to make you believe that he’s a good guy, but he isn't! He’s doing this to manipulate you into hating me!” she burst out, can’t really hold it anymore.

You slowly shakes your head. Your heart is aching because of her doing all of these. You just wanted someone to be there for you all the time, to love and care for you. And she knows that. Then why would she do this to ruin everything?

“I said leave!” you screamed.

She wipes her tears and nodded her head. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warned you.” was her last words before she stormed out of your bedroom. You plopped down the floor and cried.

Your friend didn’t saw Sunoo when she walks out, but that’s the last of her concern. Her mind is a mess and her heart is aching because of your fight. When she went out of your apartment, her steps halted because Sunoo was leaning over the wall.

He pushed himself off and put his hands inside his pocket. Her chest hammered in fear. She knows how he can be dangerous. Right after she saw and read that article, she knew what he’s capable of.

He smiled, “I’d give it to you for trying.” he said, taunting.

A tear left her eye, “You won’t get away with this. Leave y/n alone!”

He sighed, “But how can I do that if that will break her heart? You don’t want your friend hurt, do you?”

She kept her glaring stares at him. His smile slowly disappeared and that made her heart fell.

“The only person who should leave her life is you.” and with that, someone from her back suddenly covers her mouth and nose. She tried to fight back, hitting whoever that is from behind, but they were too strong. She can slowly feel her body giving in, her consciousness leaving her.

The last thing she can remember was Sunoo going inside your apartment, then everything turned black.

On the other hand, your head snaps at the door when Sunoo enters your bedroom. You quickly stood up and hugged him.

“Shh, I’m here.” he mumbled softly then made you sit down at your bed.

You followed and he kneeled in front of you so he can see your face perfectly. He handed you a glass of water.

“Drink this so you can calm down.” you accepted it and drink all of it.

“I don’t u-understand what’s got into her! She kept on saying that you are a bad person and that you are dangerous! She said that you’re making me hate her so I’ll push her away. She said you don’t like her around me.” you continued ranting and ranting while he holds your hand.

He just watched you, gently caressing your hands and placing kisses at the back of it from time to time. He didn’t talk for awhile, only your cries can be heard around your bedroom.

“She’s right tho,” he started that caught you off-guard.

“W-What?” you asked, confused.

Sunoo smiled, his sweet and angelic smile.

“I don’t like her around you. In fact, I don’t like anyone to be near you. It should only be me. You’ll only need me, Y/n.” he said that made your heart pounding hard.

You slowly pulled your hand off from his hold.

“N-No... I d-don’t understand.” you mumbled and started to move away from him.

Suddenly, all of your friend's words flashes through your mind, regret coming after. It was too late to even realize things. Sunoo stood straight and watch you silently. He didn’t seem like he’s in panic, he just stared at you.

Slowly, you start to feel tired and sleepy. Then you remembered the water he made you drink. It was too late, but you stood up and tried to run away. Sunoo grabbed you by your arm, and you’re too weak to even fight him.

“Its all right, baby. Everything’s going to be alright.” he mumbles and placed a kiss at your forehead before you finally lose your consciousness.

“Son, what is it? Are you okay?” her Mother’s voice sounded so alarmed because he ringed him so suddenly.

Sunoo sighed, “Something happened and I need help.”

His Mom instantly felt worried and excused herself from the meeting before going in a secluded place.

“Oh God, Kim Sunoo! What did you do again? Tell me you didn’t—”

“Mom, don’t worry. Its not like that. I just need you to clean some things for me.”

His Mom was silent for a while and her heart is aching for her son. A lot of people may find her unbelievable if they knew what things she can do for him. Can they blame her? Its her son! Of course she would do anything for him. Even if it means to clean after his mess.

She sighed, “Okay. I’ll send some people to do the job.”

Sunoo smiled, “Thank you, Mom. I love you. I’ll talk to you later, my friends are here.” he said and turns his head to the side when they saw his friends pulling over in front of their vacation house.

“Where is she?” Jake asked and Sunoo pointed the room on the left. He sighed and went there to go check if she’s all right.

Ni-ki sat down at the sofa together with Jay and Sunghoon. Jungwon came inside with Heeseung, both of them have this worried look for their friend.

“Sunoo hyung, you shouldn’t act impulsively.” the younger one scolds him. He just rolled his eyes at it.

Heeseung sighed and taps his shoulder, “Please get a hold of yourself and don’t get too carried away again.”

“Yes, Heeseung hyung is right. Take it easy, dude.” Jay followed.

“Calm down, I got this. Now that I have this second chance, I wouldn’t waste it.” he said, assuring his friends that he’s totally all right.

“You better not go lose yourself again, Sunoo.” Sunghoon warned him, eyes glued over his phone.

Sunoo scoffed and glanced at the direction of the room you are in. A small smile spreads over his face.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill her this time. I won’t make the same mistake again that I’ve done before.” he said then glanced down at the phone he was holding. It was your friend’s phone and the photo of the article she took was flashing over it.

‘KIM SUNOO, HEIR OF THE KIM GROUP OF COMPANIES HAVE SAID TO BE THE SUSPECT FOR KILLING HIS OWN GIRLFRIEND, JANE CHOI.’ Read more...

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Why won't you ask me out? (Shinichiro Sano X gn reader)

So this is my first short story! I have a particular liking towards Shinichiro so I thought using him to start would be safe. Bare in mind that english is not my first language, therefore I am open to any feedback. I hope you enjoy!

Trigger warnings: MDNI, nsfw, mentions of sex, cursing, physical touch, shower sex.

Category: fluff

Others: the characters Shinichiro and Benkei belong to Ken Wakui, no proof read

You slowly fluttered your eyes open as the shifting weight on the mattress next to you pulled you out of your slumber.

"Shin?..."  You mumbled with a raspy morning voice. "Morning" he gave you a sleepy smile "did I wake you up? Sorry" he apologized as he played with your hair softly.

The clothes laying around the room helped you recall last night's events "it's okay" you stretched your limbs as you took a look at the clock on the bedside table -5.30 a.m- "gotta get to the shop early today?".

His lanky figure searched in the closet for clothes to put on after a quick shower "Yeah, Benkei asked me to take a look at his bike's carburettor" you couldn't help but admire his naked body, just like you had done for more than a couple of times now. In fact it had been going on for more than month. As much as you enjoyed the sex and all the time spent next to him, the fact that he didn't seem to have any intention to have a serious relationship with you bothered you incresingly every night that passed by.

"He said it was pretty urgent" you finally shifted your attention to his face, he still had that sleepy expression you were used to look at most mornings "I should get ready too, I have to buy groceries before my shift".

Shinichiro chuckled softly "you can jump in the shower with me then" he couldn't help but draw a snarky smirk on his face.

"Sure" despite the bitter sweet feeling the offer awoke in your chest, you managed to lift yourself up and walk toward the bathroom, knowing damn well what was about to come.

You walked out of the shower with shaky legs, holding onto Shin's arm with one hand. The man had a satisfied look on his face as he pulled you closer to him to wrap the two of you in a towel "was it too much?~" he said sheepishly "shut up" you flicked his forehead playfully as he giggled.

After you both were ready he offered you a ride home, wich you refused, you needed to clear your head. You needed some time away from his infatuating charm to finally be able to think staright. Where were you going with this? How long could you keep up with that weird situationship that never seemed to end? "Ugh" you grunted to yourself. You couldn't quite wrap your head around the fact that he had asked about 20 other women out without hesitation, and wouldn't ask you out for the world. The fact that you had been friends since highschool perhaps made things more delicate, however, ever since you first kissed him in his shop after the closing hour more than a month ago you both had been acting like a couple. Texting each other every few hours, cuddling, kissing, fucking. What upset you the most, however, was the fact that when anyone was around his arms would unwrap from your waist and he would act like a normal friend once again.

You didn't think Shin was one to play around with women, no, he wasn't that kind of guy.  Your decision was solid. That same night you would talk to him, you would ignore his lustful manner, or perhaps it was your own that you had to avoid, and you would have the serious talk you'd been practicing for weeks now.

Nearing his shop's closing hour you dropped by, breathing in deeply before pushing the door open. "Welcome, what can I do for you-" he said, still focused on the bike he was working on, before turning around to look at you "-hey 's you" he stood up with a warm smile spreading across his lips. A smile so charming that made you knees weak and so sweet that left your tongue numb.

"Hey-" you smiled softly "-you done for today?" "Nearly" he pulled you into a warm hug and pecked your head softly "how come you came by? We didn't have any plans for today, did we?".

Your hands were sweaty as you played with the rings on your fingers in an attempt to calm the anxiety that corrupted your whole body "Can we talk?".

The black haired guy looked at you surprised by your words, the seriousness on your face made him worry, fearing that you were bringing bad news with you "Of course, come, take a sit".

You sat next to him on the couch he had in the back of the shop "Are you okay?" he asked placing his hand on top of yours "Yeah... well... yeah..." The speech you had been rehersing for a while now had been completely erased from your mind by the fear of ruining your relationship with him for good.

"Hey, 's okay, talk to me" you swallowed harshly, his reasuring words helping you process your thoughts a little more clearly. "Why have you never asked me out formally?" you blurted breathlessly "you've never seemed to have a problem asking women out, so why are you doing this with me? It makes me feel like you just want something to do with me when you're needy and, fuck, Shin, I have liked you for years now and you seemed to pursue anyone but me-" your rant was cut off by the hand the guy placed on your cheek "y/n listen" he stared at you with his obsidian eyes and a serious expression as he tried to organise his thoughts "I didn't ask because I simply thought you wouldn't want something serious with me, I thought I couldn't aim higher than that"  he smiled awkwardly "you are gorgeous in every way possible, I just didn't think you could ever be into me like that".

After a few seconds of silence that felt like would never end you finally spoke "you are stupid" you tried to stay serious but you couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdness of the situation. He followed you, slightly giggling although still a bit confused about what was happening. "Well, you should try, I might say yes" you said playfully as you stood up. "Oh yeah?" he smirked following you "then I might try".

You pulled the door to exit the shop "hey, were are you going?" he held the door, confused "to enjoy my time as a single womam, hopefully it will end soon" you smirked sheepishly looking his way "good night, coward" you whispered against his lips before giving him a soft peck.

The next day you had just come out of the shower whem the sound of the doorbell echoed through the small appartment. At first you had it was your roommate, who had forgotten their key once again, however, you couldn't help but smile excitedly when you looked through the peephole. "What are you doing here?" you grinned as you opened the door for him "just closed the shop so I thought I'd  drop by" you noticed how his hands shifted behind his back "oh really? What for?".

The warm grin spreading through his face melted your heart completely, how could he be so gorgeous? "I thought maybe it was time to ask" he pulled a bouquet of red tulips from behing his back "Would you be my girlfriend?" he spoke softly as he tried to stay calm, although the both of you knew what the outcome would be, the excitement was overwhelming.

Without hesitaton you pulled him in by his collar and crushed your lips together in a sweet but eager manner "It was about time" you whispered "of course I will".

His heart fluttered as he felt your lips against his, it never failed to warm his heart like nothing else could. He was happy, the happiest he had been in years, it showed im the way his lips danced softly with yours and his free hand caressed your cheek in a loving manner.

"I love you" you muttered as you rested your forehead against his "I love you too". These words weren't unfamiliar for you both, in fact, it wasn't the first or the second time you shared them, but they now felt as truthful and caring as ever.

That was all for today, I hope you liked it as much I did writing it aaaa. Have an amazing day!

-Vee

[shih-coulda-had-it]

If I may ask what is the original context for afohiko? I am still making my way through the manga so I definitely may not have gotten to a pertinent part yet so I preemptively apologize if that is the case. Is it based on an interaction they have, or was it spurred more from you imagining how they would interact and enjoying the way their personalities fit together? Either way your content of it is very enjoyable and very interesting. :] I also like how expressive your art style is! I hope you are having a nice day.

Aw, thanks :DDD

tl;dr (but I’m not putting it under a read more because I’m feeling obnoxious): the original context for afohiko is that I want Prime Torino to be popular, and if I have to bait people onto my blog with hot AfO, then I’ll fucking do it. It’s still honest work!

//

Okay. So, for context, what you need to know first is that I am a strong promoter of Prime Torino. I love him, he’s hot and miserable and devoted to lost (well, debatable) causes. And I want other people to love him too, but this is a thankless task because Prime Torino is very notably a traumatizing jackass.

I still want people to love him. So I scheme, quite constantly, for ways to slot Prime Torino into AUs and ships.

Around two years ago, April 2021, @pocketramblr made a Google Poll for cursed ships. GranAfO got 1%. This is pretty unremarkable, except for the fact that I could refer to it a month later, and assign the genesis of All for One x Gran Torino onto her when some anon (possibly frustrated that I kept dodging Nana x AFO questions) asked me about it.

And at first I was like, ‘Oh, ew. AFO is a jackass.’ And then I started drawing it, and I ended up with one of those standard kabedon poses with Prime Torino against the wall. Which got me these kind of reactions:

What could I conclude? That by drawing an attractive All for One with Prime Torino, I could bait people into thinking twice about Prime Torino. (MY AGENDAAAA)

DfO Week was then announced; between my own afohiko art and the few asks Pocket fronted for an dfohiko thought experiment, I was inspired to start writing the first of many branches of dfohiko verse. I like to ground my fics with a bit of basis in canon, but you gotta understand--this is a crackship. I’m shooting blind here except for a few key references/facts:

1. Gran Torino survived the initial retreat with Toshinori in tow, even though AFO certainly must have seen them fleeing the scene. Sorahiko then survived the following decades AND Kamino Ward despite evidence of AFO’s insane scorched earth policies.

2. The Ultra Analysis book has this for a quick 101 of Gran Torino’s perspectives of a few characters:

For a character assigned as ‘nuisance’, AFO sure doesn’t bother swatting him into a hole six feet deep. And for name-calling AFO a ‘monster’ + having an infamous stance on killing to save, Sorahiko is incapable of dealing damage. (Undoubtedly because he knows he would get squashed like a bug. But I digress. This post is for reading too deep into the unspoken bits.)

3. Gran Torino in his fight with Kurogiri ends up saying, “If you’ve got a preference for a date, then I’ll go with you wherever you want.” (Crunchyroll subtitles, E78). This is obviously one of those one-off lines, and not even canon to manga, but I like referring back to it as an indicator of Gran Torino’s Bad Taste in Men.

All this to say… afohiko is hilarious to me, and I can draw/write them as hot disasters, in both ways oblivious to the red flags at the start and end of their relationships. Emphasis on hot. You think Prime Torino’s hot, right? Did I succeed in my agenda?

[slow-slug]

(not) lonesome practicalism

AN: Okay first of all, the person who forced me into making tumblr account, please do not look at this post lmao I want to save my dignity, let's pretend it's not here. Second of all it's all @angelchigiri fault that I've written it, and thirdly it was not suppose to be that long but my hand slipped. And at the end I want to mention, english is not my first language and I do not have a beta, so yk, probably a lot of mistakes, sorry :,) Enjoy!

Its all fluff I promise! Oh and it's Chigiri x Reader ofc!

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

You pouted as the ball you just had kicked rolled not into the direction you wanted it to go. You had to admit it was a very pitiful picture, the net of the goal waved slightly with barely noticeable breeze, and the ball was, well, not in the middle of it as you wanted it to be. 

It was really frustrating, you were on the field that belonged to your old school, for quite some time now. Long enough that the sun started to set, and the hot summer temperature was slowly but surely becoming a chilly one. 

You felt like a fool, despite the fact that because of summer vacations no one was nearby, you still were feeling rather embarrassed. How was kicking a ball into the right direction so hard? It just never went the way you wanted it to go, honestly it was so silly, all you wanted to do was learn some basic football movements. That’s all! Was it so bad wanting to be more invested in your boyfriend's activities and passions?

You flopped down on the hard ground, feeling the artificial texture of it beneath your fingers. 

Sighhhh.

Honestly, Chigiri was so amazing in every way. He was caring, a gentleman in always asking about your mood, and making sure you were comfortable in everything you two were doing. Since you started dating, two months ago, suddenly your world felt a lot brighter and colorful. You spent so much time together, and when not, you were texting and sending stupid photos to each other. A true honeymoon phase in all its glory.

But the most important thing to you that he was doing was the way he was so invested in your hobbies and interests. You never had someone so, so genuinely interested in your passions. It was such an amazing feeling, when he sent you links to silly videos that he knew you would be interested in, and what's most important was the fact that he was never scared to spend time with you doing those activities. No matter what it was. Baking? He would research the best recipe that there exists. Dancing? Bring it on, with his coordination skills it was a lot of fun twirling together. Drawing? He wasn’t really good at it, but you still had the portret he drew of you, hanging up proudly above your desk. Hell, he even went shopping with you for new makeup products you needed and later, when you got back to your house, he did face masks with you and cuddled while watching some cheesy kdrama. 

And you wanted to return the favor, so, a whole week you spent walking to the field and practicing the damned football. It was your favorite thing, watching him being all excited about matches and scores. He smiled so widely and his eyes sparkled with such a real passion. And you wanted to be part of this world as well. 

You understood the rules of the game, knew the professional and more inside terms used for different moves, you were there for Chigir’s practice when you only could, you were watching matches with him and engaged in long discussions about them. 

The only thing is that, well, you kindly speaking, sucked at playing the actuall game. 

And it was so embarrassing! 

You heard your boyfriend's wishes that you could play some nice and short matches. He had never said it outloud, but you could read between the lines well enough that you understood his shy smiles and quick looks on the field when you were passing by it. So you did the only reasonable thing. Decided to learn this sport, at least a little bit, so you could surprise Chigiri and see his beautiful smile when you would show him the skills you had. 

You observed the slowly moving clouds. Well, you must admit that the practice you had, everyday for the whole week, was really effortless. Sadly. The ball never went in the direction you wanted it to go, you couldn’t run with it without losing it or falling on your face. You didn’t even attempt dribbling. 

You covered your eyes with your arm sighing quietly, and felt the frustrated tears to prickle them. This isn’t fair, you’ve seen so many matches, and Chigiri’s practices, so why couldn’t you repeat any of the things he did? 

The moment you decided to stand up and try again you felt someone laying down next to you also sighing quietly. Your tensed muscles relaxed as you felt your boyfriend’s comforting smell enveloping you. Dammit, you didn’t even hear him creeping on you.

You laid in silence for some time, breathing quietly. Then you felt his pinky touching delicately yours, and you smiled softly against your will. 

“Are you gonna tell me what you've been up to this past week?” He asked quietly not breaking the tiny physical contact he had with you. 

“It’s stupid” you’ve murmured. 

“It’s not if you spent so much time on it” he responded gently. 

That made you uncover your face and shift it so you could take a better look at him. Pink hair spilled around him, and tickled his perfectly looking skin. His pink eyes blinked at you, patiently waiting for your answer. 

“Promise you won’t laugh?” You’ve asked uncertainly, it was so stupid now that you looked at it. He nodded softly, enveloping your hand fully and giving it an encouraging squeeze. “I just wanted to learn some basic football I guess…” you turned your eyes to your hands observing the color of your skin. You heard a quiet oh, and your face flamed red. 

You’ve quickly sat up, and buried your head in your knees. That’s it for you, never coming back nope. And Chigiri was still silent! He did sit up with you, not so abruptly as you of course. He was always so smooth and elegant in every move. 

“You did?” He sounded weirdly breathless. You nodded without looking at him. You sat there in silence for a while. You wanted to go away, to stand and ask Chigiri to forget it, to never mention it again, so you can just skip this embarrassing chapter of your life. Yet, before you could act on those thoughts, you felt arms wrapping around you from behind and his hair tickle your nape when he leaned on it with his forehead. 

“Gods I love you so much.” He whispered in a hushed tone. You felt the warmth on your cheeks and the butterflies in your stomach. Chigiri never really says it outloud, his love is more hidden in gentle kisses and in the time you two spend together. You muffled a groan, his random declarations of love will always mean so much to you.

He stood up, and turned to be in front of you. When you looked up, the last sun rays made up a halo around his hair and the smile that graced his lips was so fond and kind. He put out a hand in your direction. 

“Come I’ll teach you.” And in what world would you say no to him? 

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

i feel cringe

[wormdolls]

Nail-Biter

I found an old story in my Google Docs from last year that I actually enjoyed re-reading. I might rewrite it one day but as of right now I'm not doing anything with it, so I figured I might as well post it here. I hope y'all enjoy!

I used to bite my nails.

Usually when I say this, people start to reassure me that they do so as well, and that it’s not anything to be ashamed of. What they don’t realise is this: when I say I used to bite them, what I really mean is I used to chew them down into pink stubs, tearing right into the quick, and nibble at the skin around them too. Frankly it’s incredible I didn’t get an infection from that old habit, but my fingers were always red and sore, with a tendency to bleed. But I kept biting. Whenever I was nervous, or agitated, or even just a little absentminded, my teeth would find my fingers and bite them until I physically couldn’t anymore. Then I would feel stupid and insecure for having such a shameful habit.

I used to joke about it, too. Whenever my more fashionable friends commented on their own nail polish, I would feel the need to bring up those little warped gravestones on my fingertips, as if by drawing attention to them they would become less of a burning point of inadequacy for me. I’d go even further and say I took pride in that rather ruinous part of my personality.

One day things changed—or more accurately, I forced the change upon myself. I went out and bought myself a tiny little bottle of black nail polish. That set me on a vague path to recovery, forcing me to consider whether it was worth wasting nail polish just for that momentary relief. It wasn’t an overnight change by any means, and I definitely chewed off more coats than I care to admit (and accidentally consumed more polish than can possibly be good for someone) but it gave my poor hands a chance to heal and made my nails much easier to look at in the process.

Months went by and my nails were now at a decent length for the first time in my life. It may sound trivial to some, but I felt good flaunting my progress, and they looked even better. I had even graduated to various other colours. It feels ironic that on the morning that changed I was painting them black once again. I was just finishing my pinkie finger when my phone rang, almost scaring me into smudging them. I answered knowing full well it would be my mum—nobody else would call when a single text would suffice. Sure enough, I heard the sour notes of her voice greet me. She sounded upset, and since I was unclear on whether I was the cause, I decided to treat her as one treats a landmine.

“Hi, mum.” My voice rose a few notes and I winced, blowing absently on my nails to dry them. “Is something up?”

“I’m just wondering,” I flinched at the accusatory tone—so I was the cause after all, though I’d be lying if I said I knew what I’d actually done, “Why exactly have you been lying to me.”

“Lying about what?” I said, but my mouth was dry and my chest was starting to fill with fear. I began to raise my hand to my mouth.

“Lying about your boyfriend. Or do you not remember? Come clean, Alice, I know you’ve not really been seeing him.”

“No mum,” I mumbled through my fingers, “I told you I stopped.”

I heard her irritable sigh through the phone and felt my ribs tighten. Mum always had liked my boyfriend much better than I had, enough that when we broke up she refused to listen to my reasons and instead insisted we still see each other. I may have told her, aeons ago, that Maybe We’d Try It Out Again, but I certainly hadn’t told her I was seeing him nowadays. She continued to sink her talons of disappointment into my brain with her next words.

“I don’t know why you didn’t stay with him. He was the best you’re ever going to get.” These words made my sore eyes overflow, and I started to sniffle. I don’t remember the rest of that dismal conversation. In all honesty I was just trying to get off the phone as fast as I could, but what I do remember is that when I did put the phone down, I realised that my hand was now free of polish and that my fingertips looked red and wet with spit. I almost howled in outrage—it was just like that woman to take my one good accomplishment and turn it against me.

In the next few weeks, I tried everything to set myself back to rights, but it was all for nought. As my mother’s words played on repeat in my head, my mood sank lower and lower, and my nails seemed to get shorter and shorter. My fingertips started bleeding again. I stopped wanting to show them off.

It all culminated in one particular night. It was raining outside and instead of being out with friends, I was just staring at the wall of my bedroom and biting relentlessly on what remained of my fingers. I could feel the warmth of blood trickling down my hand as I tore into my flesh but I couldn’t stop. My face was numb. Everything was numb, all sensation centred on my hands, as I ripped into them like a starved animal. My breathing sounded weird. My eyes were tearing up. The sensations intensified and I started to pant, sweat dripping down my face. And then…I wrapped my hands around the first bottle of nail polish I could find, and stared at it hatefully. If I hadn’t started painting my nails, I wouldn’t have had the fragile illusion of recovery, and I wouldn’t be stuck in this rut now, feeling so weak and helpless and…and…

Crash.

I don’t allow myself to be around my nail polish anymore. I scrubbed for weeks, but the neon green is never coming out of that wallpaper. I don’t really care anymore though. My fingers are worse than ever and I’m pretty sure one of them is swelling up, but I don’t care about that either.

I just can’t stop biting my nails.

[fadebolt]

Soooo uhhhh, I'm about to go on vacation in two days. Don't worry, I'll still be doing the room analysis posts, and I will still probably post an AF attack or two, I'm mostly just bringing it up cus.... nostalgia. (Yes, I'm about to reminisce on my times in the RW community - I've been trying to keep these kinds of rambly posts to a minimum, but this felt like a pretty good time to go off about this)

Because the first time I discovered Rain World was two years ago, when I was also about to go on vacation very soon, and Htwo's video about the AI of the game caught my eye.

I was like "Wait, really? This looks like one of those old retro games, how the hell can it have a more complex AI, than some of the newer big games that are doing real fancy things with them?", so I just had to investigate, and something about the visuals, and the creatures, and the things described in the video.... it really mesmerized me, and I just had to learn more.

Which I did during vacation, checking out some spoiler free reviews and recommendation videos (as well as official stuff, including the DP scug previews, which sounded real interesting, even from a newcomer's perspective), as well as tons of fanart.

Of course, I did spoil myself a bunch in the process, but it all completely lacked context, so it didn't really mean much. I especially liked a guy called something along the lines of 'FlameFlower' (I'm sort of blanking on it, sry), as they had a real neat art style, and a lot of their comic pages were made traditionally, which impressed me a lot. It was nice and sweet and cute, and I liked the humanoid robot villain who I assumed to be the artist's personal interpretation of what the higher intelligence in this world might be like (yeah, I assumed the concept of an iterator was exclusive to that comic which is real silly, but still xd).

Anyways, I was eager to try out this difficult game filled with weird creatures, where you'll need to be patient and clever, but also skilled and quick witted, which I immediately did, after I traveled home.

I also quickly joined the Discord server, mostly just to view more art, but to my delight, there were a bunch of channels specifically for newbies on their first playthroughs, where I hung out a bunch.

Afterwards, I've mostly just been playing for the next couple months, having a blast while also struggling a little here and there, especially when I got to try Hunter.

I wasn't really doing anything with the community, outside of maybe chiming into a discussion or two. I had ideas, but I sorta lacked motivation. Sharing stuff in Discord gallery chats is not overly fun, as there's rarely any interaction (outside of a few random reacts - a lot of which comes from people that press reacts on literally everything), and the way Discord works makes it very difficult not to start comparing yourself to the other stuff you see, and it really demotivated me, especially cus my skills were waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay worse back then (which is fair, I barely did art before my RW days, but still, good lord do I hate my older stuff xd).

I also just didn't particularly enjoy the vibes of the server too much. Lurking around the chats and looking at the things other people were doing was fun, but I never felt like it would be worth it to try and be a part of that.

Then you know, the new year rolled around, Downpour came out, the game got traction, and everything was getting crazy.

I was still mostly inactive, until my very first art month came up, and I had some fun with it (my skills still being absolutely horrendous, but at least I still had fun :3).

But then something caught my eye - a certain artist doing 'bombs', drawings where the Slugcat designs of many different artists were present. Yeap - I'm talkin' about Pansear!

I was digging around, and I found out that you can get featured by sending a DM, so I gathered the courage to send over a Saint, which was honestly extremely nerve-wracking. Yet the conversation was really pleasant. She actually complimented my design, which felt incredible, and was extremely appreciative of me congratulating her for getting featured in Akupara's Virtual Art Month Museum.

I know that this might sound like a basic everyday thing for most, but for a person with my levels of social anxiety? This was an enormous leap, one that I'm very grateful to have made.

Afterwards, things have finally started happening. I noticed that Pan and her buddies made a new server where they started hosting voice acting sessions for all the comics in their Shipping Container server. So I leaped on the chance to join in, the moment the invites were reopened again, since I always enjoyed imitating the voices of characters, and the idea of me doing the characters myself sounded incredible, especially when they're from a game I love so much.

And from that point onward, I stopped chatting in, or even looking at the overpopulated 'Main World' server entirely, and all my interactions with the community came from that small new server.

Then last year's vacation arrived, where.... nothing really happened, tbh. I was forced to miss out on the Helm fandub, but I had some fun doing colorless Artificer and Rivulet (aka, the first art pieces I ever posted onto Tumblr) on the beach.

But a few days after I returned, I noticed that North was actually starting a new video series, where she would animate Inv's dating sim, and she was looking for VAs on Tumblr, so I grabbed the opportunity, and made an account, so I could upload my auditions.

Yup, the Thanks Andrew dating sim is the reason why this account exists.

Neat, ain't it?

And initially, I didn't really know what to do with this thing, so I was just reblogging, and uploading art, as well as voiceovers, until...

The shipping polls arrived. And thus, my series of daily poll ramblings have begun. Ramblings that have been happening for almost a year now.

And then... I just sort of, kept doing the things I was doing, y'know. I finally got my wish, to be a part of a community I adore, even if just a minor one.

The vacations weirdly represent huge moments for me, as I found out and fell in love with the game during one, while my Tumblr was created immediately after the one that followed.

It's weird to look back on these last two years, and just how much has changed. Despite the downers that the community has had as of late, this was still a really pleasant journey, getting to have fun with others, and make them happy, while they also make me happy in return.

And I suppose this year's vacation can sort of represent my Artfight being created? That was also a pretty enjoyable experience, though it doesn't quite carry the same weight.

I dunno, not every year needs to be a special one. Though the last two have undoubtedly been that way! :D

[wanderer-w00lf]

This comic and my experience

Look, this one looks familiar.

Oh boy... this one is a long one.

Where do I start...?

Maybe you guys need a bit of context real quick. Some time ago, a user called, Play tops decided to gather a couple of artist and ask about making a comic all together for the fandom. I was part of them, and of course I said yes. Everything could be quite normal there, like, we made the comic and that's it... right? well...

He told us several times that he was gonna help too, but when we where distributing the works, there was always an excuse. At fisrt it was: "I don't have that software" well, I worked the fist pages in a software he told me he had, so he could help, but he didn't; then he would always answer with a solid "I don't how to do that", like:

Script? NO

Storyboard? NO

lineart/inking? NO

Colours? NO

He would always said that he was feeling "left out" while I tried everything to make him part of it, but he would always deny.

After a lot of negatives and weeks holding it, I was growing tired, and this guy started to say.

"I don't have time" as his excuse.

Now, I know we as artist usually don't have that much time, especially because most of us are in college or highschool, but, this kept prolonging for months.

And, you wanna guess something? I was busy too, yet still, I had to find time however I could to make some drawings because, With only studying is not enough. If I'm an artist i need to have art in my accounts and portfolio, so yeah, his excuses where making me feel like I was wasting time.

One day I simply decided It was enough.

You all don't know, because basically I haven't shared it yet, but I have a lot of other comics I did in the past that for one reason or another I never finished or plublished, right now I have a few of those in an undefined hiatus, so feeling yet another one was going into the exact same direction made me angry.

So basically I started to working without him. I made everything, storyboard, lineart, colour, text. I was determined to finish it just out of pure spite. Spite to whom? to life, to Play tops, to every "friend" who ask to work together to finally leave without any warning and or response. I did it out of pure spite because I was tired and this comic was not gonna be another comic I put into the drawer in an undefined hiatus. So yeah.

My good pal Renzo was the other guy who wanted to make the comic and he was the greatest moral support in all of this; he made the script obviously, but he made it clear to me that he could not help me in another way, but if he could he was gonna try, and that was more than what playtops was giving us. He did help me all the way.

It was hard, and even tho I enjoyed every page I finished, that made me feel even more frustrated, because, the three pages that took us like 5-6 months, where completely finished in a week, all by myself.

At the end I finally finished the two stories and the relief I felt was, overwhelming. I "returned" the projetc to playtops because if someone else wanted the sequel they had to ask him.

And that's the story.

I kinda decided to remain a bit anonymous because, well I didn't wanted the people to say I was "Stealing" Playtop's work, and because I didn't want to fight in social media. You all people are toxic AF.

This is not a cancel post or anything like that; this is more like:

A me venting everything.

I usually remain silent no matter what, because that's how I am.

But, if i'm venting right now it's because I indeed have a motive behind.

Basically what I'm asking here is... You all want this comic in Tumblr?

If you don't I still have a couple other things I'm working on. I love this fandom I still have plenty more ideas I want to make and share with all of you.

[stacywaters]

Coffee and Violets (SUGA) CH1 - Hoseok

    You glance up after hearing the bell ring, signaling someone came into the cafe. A boy with dark hair and a bright smile walks in.

    "Hello! What can I get for you today?" you greet.

    "Could I get a caramel macchiato?" He asks.

    "Yep! Will that be for here or to go?"

    "To go, please." He responds.

    You begin to make his drink as he leans against the counter. Soon enough his drink is ready and you package it up, sliding it across the counter to him.

    "Thanks!" He takes a sip of it, "Hey, this is really good! I'll have to come here more often."

    "Thank you!" you respond, proud of your skills.

    "Actually, I've been meaning to bring this up the whole time, but I run the flower shop right next door."

    "No way!" You respond, genuinely surprised. You guess you had a blind spot for that shop, you never bothered to check it out.

    "I'm sorry I never came by! I guess I should introduce myself then. My name is Y/N"

    "Nice to meet you Y/N! I'm Hoseok."

    You two talked about running businesses, funny exchanges with customers, and the struggles of living on your own. Since it was a slower afternoon in the cafe, you welcomed the conversation.

    "So, do you run this place all by yourself?" He asked, tilting his head.

    "Yeah. I tried getting someone else working here once, but it didn't work out too well." you answer. He nods in response.

    "Do you run your shop by yourself?" You ask him.

    "Actually no!" He responds, "I run it with my friend Yoongi. We've known each other for years now, so we work pretty well together."

    "That's awesome!" You say, "It must be nice having a friend you've known for so long"

    There's a pause in the conversation while he seems stuck on what to say. You notice and add, "I'm just kind of introverted, is all. I had a best friend I was really close with in elementary school!"

    "What happened to them?"

    "We drifted apart in middle school. Once we went into high school, she moved away."

    "I'm sorry to hear that..," He says.

    "We weren't really into the same things anymore. I was busy with my writing, she was caught up with other things. We'd only call every few months and when we did, we'd have nothing to talk about."

    "I see" He said before taking a sip of his drink.

    "I'm sorry for rambling on so much! We don't need to have a pity party, that was years ago. I'd be glad to have new friends though. Maybe you can be one?" You trail off, a little embarrassed at your directness.

    "Of course! Let me give you my number."

    You pull out your phone and he types in his number. He sends a quick text to himself before grabbing his own phone to save the contact.

    "You said you were a writer?" He asks.

    You nod in response. "I have been since I was young, but as I got older I became consumed in my fictional worlds. I'd always be drafting new plots or naming new characters. Sometimes I'd even draw my own characters, though I'm not much of an artist" You laugh.

    "That's so cool! I'd love to read your work sometime!"

    "Yeah! That'd be nice" You respond.

    "Alright. I better get back to the shop, but I'll talk to you again soon, 'kay? Maybe next time I can bring Yoongi along."

    "Sure! Enjoy your drink" You smile.

    He leaves the shop and you sigh to yourself, delving into your thoughts. That was so much fun, I haven't had a conversation like that in forever. Maybe it'll be nice having a new friend to talk to.

You pull out your phone and check your recent messages. His name had been saved as 'Hoseok :)'. You laugh to yourself. "His positive vibe sure is contagious."

Next Chapter?

[kingofangst]

Chapter 5 Teaser

"-Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."

"-Since when did you became Einstein?"

"-Since when were you so interested of my input on the matter? I presumed humans were nescient."

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HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!!! 🎄🎄🎄🎅🏽🎅🏽🎅🏽🎁🎁🎁❄️❄️❄️ I am here to unleash a teaser of Chapter 5 of my Teen Wolf series: The Wings Of An Enigmatic. I know it has been a couple of months since I last posted anything regarding this series but not to worry I am committed to writing this series out for my readers.

This teaser is just a nice and heartwarming flashback of Seraph's and Isaac's childhos for the upcoming ansgty moment in Isaac's point of view after Seraph's vehement comment in the last chapter. So as a long wait, here is the teaser of a sweet childhood memory of how they met, with Matt as the bridge of that extension and his inclusion of being another childhood friend.

Tagging: @rhyslahey @thiamsxbitch @isaac-not-isaac @unsanedes @phantomraeken @mmoosen

@rhyslahey this is my Christmas gift to you. Enjoy🎄🎄🎁🎁

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(Flashback - 10 years ago…)

Shouts and chatters of kids in the colorful classroom felt a tad bit intimidating. The lemon and oak scent permeated the classroom, filling his nostrils while the sun illuminated the room. Despite him being ironically the tallest 6-year-old in the 1st Grade, seeing so many of them playing, coloring a crayon book, being rowdy with each other as sneakers and chairs squeaked on the waxed tiled floors, made little Isaac feel smaller. The only reassurance is that he sees Matt drawing a picture and absentmindly talking with someone…another kid with light sunkissed skin…who was creating a vertically shaped masterpiece of Lego blocks vividly styled as a building to have foundation and support. The kid beside the intricate puzzles of blocks was someone that Matt became friends with this weekend. 

Isaac takes a closer look at the kid and he notices how orderly and noble the kid is acting. With combed hair, tailored white long sleeve button down shirt, followed by black dress shorts, white ribbed calf socks, and black loafers. He looked like a kid who was a genius combined with the flair and fashion sense of a 1940’s child. A rich kid in basic terms. 

“Isaac! Hey Isaac!” The excited tone of Matt reached his hears, standing up abruptly to see him. “Come quick, there’s someone you gotta meet!” The little grubby hands grabs Isaac’s much softer ones, dragging him forward towards the genius-like child. “Isaac, meet my new friend, Seraph. Seraph, this is Isaac, my best friend since daycare!” Matt’s cheerful declaration did not solve the newfound nervousness Isaac developed as the kid, Seraph, stares at him with gray eyes. Gray eyes that held mystery in them, that looked cold and aloof, that could literally scare a kid and have them scram immediately. Yet the innocence in them was visible and they were shining with curiosity. How did Matt become friends with this one?

The ambient noise of mindless chatter and cheers from the other kids served as the contrasting backdrop of the uncomfortable silence between Isaac and this debonair kid. A pin drop could have resonated loudly between them. Seraph’s eyes seemingly judging him, eyeing him like he was an experiment that needed to be tested. Seraph lets out a small puff of air, and then he parts his lips.

“So you’re the best friend that Matthew here excitedly chatted about and wanted me to meet? I do find your bravery and choice of friends admirable and intriguing.” The professional and intelligent tone of the boy was unbelievable. How did this kid talk like that? No, why did this kid talk like that? He is speaking as if he were a full-sized adult, it baffled and spooked Isaac. “I also wanted to meet you as well and request if I can be your friend too. Can I…Isaac?” 

Despite Seraph’s confident tone, he senses a slight uncertainty at the end of his question, along with the innocence lacing the child’s voice, as if Seraph felt like he was scaring him away. He wasn’t scaring him, in fact he was captivated by the way Seraph was talking and…whatever Seraph was building, which looks like a three-dimensional construction of a building that is entirely made out of lego. Not a single impairment within the foundation. 

“I am sorry, but if I am scaring you Isaac, then I understand if you do not wish for me to be your friend-”

“Wait, Seraph-”

“Um no! No y-you aren’t scaring me…it’s just that Matt here is the only friend I really talk to…” Isaac trails off in shyness, kicking his feet on the tiled floor. “I don’t really talk to the other kids in this class.”

“I see,” Seraph hums, pausing at the playful atmosphere before him. His eyes scatter to see the different kids that are of their ages, playing with toys, stuffed animals, etc. Isaac felt that Seraph was different. He saw that Seraph was different, by the way he looked, the way he spoke, the way those gray eyes observed the room like a hawk. He was very perceptive and for someone who is 6 years old, already advanced and ahead of himself, Matt and the rest of the class. “I suppose we find ourselves in similar circumstances, both not forging connections with our peers or engaging in social interactions within our class, excluding Matt of course.”

The unexpected combination of this kid’s appearance coupled with the swift and adult-like articulation of his words left Isaac puzzled. Just what kind of 1st Grader talks like that? It did make Isaac more interested in the well dressed child who now has his hands folded neatly on his desk surveying the scene before him.

“Yeah Zac, um Seraph talks like that alot and while it does sound weird, this is his way of talking to other people.” Matt butts in, his face contorting a odd expression. The privileged youngster tilts his head in confusion. 

“It’s the way I present myself and communicate. Is there something wrong with my wording and how I converse?” Seraph asks, and despite how sharp and voidless his gray eyes were perceiving to be, Isaac could see hints of nervousness in those orbs. The dapper boy looked composed and concealed with a flair of affluence and suave, yet he could sense just how odd and out of place Seraph felt, just like Isaac. 

“My name’s Isaac, which Matt already told you but just in case y-you forgot. Nice to meet you, and I wanna become friends with you too.” Isaac holds out his hand for a shake, a dopey smile on his lips. Seraph looks at the hand, then up to Isaac’s face, before eyeing his hand again. Then he glances back up and suddenly there is a sight to behold in front of him. To Isaac at first, he though kids like Seraph would never laugh and smile due to their aloofness and callous nature. But Seraph’s faint smile is an anomaly Isaac witnesses, but the most peculiar thing was how bright Seraph’s eyes seem to be from this. He could have also sworn he saw the child’s eyes give out an aqua blue hue within them before shifting back to gray, but he couldn’t tell. Maybe that was the sun’s reflection in the room and it did that to his eyes. Seraph shakes the former’s hand with that faint smile being replayed over and over. 

“Seraph Kingfisher. Even though by now, Matthew here must have relayed you my legal entity already but I am merely letting you know who I am at your request of friendship and getting to know you. After all, you and I are alike when it involves anti-social tendencies.” Seraph explains too much for Isaac’s brain to process. 

“You forgot about me being here, too.” 

“My apologies, and let’s not forget Matthew. In this particular sense, you serve as the bridge to our new friendship and the expansion of a broader, diplomatic relationship to me and Isaac’s emerging friendship, contributing to your more social disposition.” Seraph replies to Matt’s jest.

“Sometimes I wonder how do you talk like that.”

“My parents raised me with class and manners. It’s proper etiquette, and a sense of code for respect and to treat others the way you want to be treated,” Isaac could only stare at how dutiful and respectful Seraph is with the intelligent and proper language he spoke with the inclusion of professional body language. Seraph was like a walking book of knowledge. 

“Is something amiss, Isaac? You seem quite parched and dazed.” Seraph’s straightforward question startles the young curly haired boy.

“Oh no—it’s nothing. It’s just…I am kind of happy you don’t see me as a kid who is a little taller than most of the kids here. And…I am happy we’re friends now.” Isaac stammers out, gaining confidence in at the end of his sentence.

“So am I Isaac, and no there is nothing wrong with you being a tall 6-year-old. To me, I concur that you have been born with blessed genes that make you an able body person.” Seraph compliments, gazing at him softly. “While Matt here is artistic and sociable. An ambivert with a curious and thoughtful personality.”

That compliment made Matt shuffle his feet, a sight Isaac only sees when Matt gets shy or embarrassed. “Um thank you, Seraph.”

Isaac returns his gaze back to the affluent elementary kid, who is now switching the Lego between the hand constructed building. There was something about Seraph that made him admiring and cool to look at. Was it how he was dressed? His posture? How he was easily able to build a Lego building in real world detail? The way he was speaking to him? He didn’t know, nor could he make an accurate decision on what he felt, but all he did know was that he didn’t want to separate from Seraph. He wanted to be best friends with Seraph just like he’s best friends with Matt. Because he can see just how different Seraph was from the others. 

Pursing his lips together, Isaac sits beside Seraph. “Can I…play with the Lego? Help you build this building?” His voice comes out soft and shy, despite having just become friends with him 5 minutes ago. 

The boy in question glances at Isaac, his gray eyes boring into Isaac’s blue ones, with a gentle gaze that held a touch of bewilderment, contrasting how sharp and cutthroat they looked. It suddenly dawned on him that he might be treading on delicate grounds, the perplexed expression from Seraph signalling a possible misstep in their evolving rapport.

“Sorry I shouldn’t have asked if you wanted to play with me if you wanted to play-”

“No,” The interjection of Seraph cuts off his next words, “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve never had anyone inquire or offer to build something with me, and that is the reason.”

He nods at the former’s response slowly, before his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. “Not even Matt? I mean I know he likes to draw but he’s friendly to ask.” He points to their friend who shrugs.

“I am not really good with Legos, or building something huge like Seraph’s building here.” It’s Matt’s response that Isaac hears. He hears the other kid shuffle in their seat. “Perhaps I can teach you, Matt.”

Seraph speaks to the aforementioned boy who glances back. “I can even help teach you as well Isaac so that you can be able to build impressive toy architects such as this example.” The other two boys look at Seraph in awe, as if they have just seen a video game on the window-sill and as if it’s calling their names to purchase it.

“Sure, I wanna learn how to build!”

“Um, I guess so…I mean will it be hard to build it because…” The shy boy trails off looking at Seraph’s design, “mines isn’t gonna come out like yours.”

“That is the exact reason why I stated I will teach you how to build a complete lego set.” Seraph sends him a wry grin, snickering while finding Isaac’s boldness entertaining. Isaac’s cheeks flush in embarrassment at his words.

“There is a saying: practice makes perfect. Hence, I will be helping you, so you can learn and master how to build a three-dimensional building, such as my design concept.” The intellectual words, followed by a formal tone of proper punctuation echoes to both Isaac and Matt. Well more Isaac. He sees just how amazing his new friend is, even wanting to teach him how to build a set of blocks just for fun. 

Three 6 year-olds in their own world, learning from their new friend on how to build an actual building out of legos. To everyone else, they were just playing blocks. But to Isaac, it was a new friendship, a bond that felt warm, contrasting the icy gray eyes of his new friend. He was never good at making friends honestly speaking, his introverted personality made things difficult since he was in daycare with Matt, who became his first friend out of sheer courage.

 

But Seraph…he was different. Different than any kid in the 1st grade, and it wasn’t because how he dressed, it’s how quiet but observant he was, how smart yet proper he was, how intimidating yet soft he was, and he could have easily said no to him for playing. But…he didn’t, he even surprised Isaac by saying he never had anyone asked him to play with him or build with him before, and to many other kids in their classroom he looked frightening because of his eyes and stone cold face, but not to Isaac. 

To 6 year-old, introverted and shy Isaac, he was mysterious and alluring. Plus, he gave Isaac something he never had before: confidence. Because he never would think he’d be in this kid’s presence without feeling shy and scared by his icy looks of condemnation and judgement, but here he is, smiling and laughing with Seraph who is sitting between him and Matt.

And…6 year-old Seraph was sporting a smile of his own. Isaac once again turns his head to the former. “Hey, can I call you Raph instead?”

Now, it was Seraph’s turn to be surprised. Isaac though he stepped too far again and taking advantage of his newfound friendship. 

“Yes, you may call me Raph, a shortened version of my name.” The aforementioned kid just continues to shock and impress Isaac more and more. “Only if I can request to call you Zac.”

Isaac smiles at that nickname that Matt gives him, now being asked by Seraph. “Deal.”

(Flashback End - Present Day)

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SO, what did you guys think? Now you see how Isaac and Seraph know each-other. Don't worry, that will not be the last moment of their flashbacks and I have a lot of build up for these two and their close friendship that is parting on the seams. Will they get back that golden friendship? Only time will tell? Also, I wonder if anyone was able to see the hint of Seraph's eyes being reflected by the Sun within a milisecond from Isaac's pov.

Thank you so much for reading and chapter 5 will be posted this Wednesday. I will also create a Masterlist for this series to make finding the chapters easier.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!🎄🎄🎄🎅🎅🎅🎁🎁🎁❄️❄️❄️