#wow he just cannot face his fears and the cold dead eyes he's so scared might be a reality

[gaywiththesauce]

I ran out of tags so the first part will be in text!!

UISHKGDS AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

where do I begin?

the first half is actually so sad and I love it for that. it was so great to watch and so so painful! like the nice pain you get from reading angst. I was covering my mouth and gasping so so much while reading

“Because he would rather have lived in a world in which Y/N had been turned into his enemy than in one in which she did not exist at all.”

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

THIS IS SO SAD TO READ AND HE FUCKING HE. HE. HE. HE DID THAT. HE THOUGHT THAT. KYOJURO RENGOKU.

like i always thought of him to never think of any reason for someone to willingly become a demon so for you to do THAT

Peach! your brain... its so big…

and then the cliffside and describing it and the buildup to it

oooooooooof

The anger and tension just building and wow. wowowowowow

im usually not an x reader fan (even less of a sub!reader) but lemme tell you my seatbelt was strapped

my hands were inside the car and ready for the ride

“Rengoku’s movements were just like those he wielded in battle — powerful; all-consuming; relentless; and unforgiving.”

EXCUSE ME?????????????

I READ THAT AND WOW

I

PEEEEACCCCCHHHHH I HAD MANY THOUGHTS

Tell Me to Stop: Part 2 (NSFW Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Ice Pillar)

A/N: oh man, it’s here. This took a lot out of me, so I hope that you all like it.

Part One can be found here: post-Mugen AU where Kyojuro lives; events take place post-Entertainment District.

Multiple POVs (Y/N, Shinobu, and Kyojuro). There are several flashbacks, which are in all italics and separated from the main text.

Massive TW: trauma/PTSD, anger, nightmares, descriptions of corpses, violence and violence between characters (shoving, grabbing/shaking). One character triggers another and it’s dubious whether it’s intentional or not.

CW: 16.7k words; explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex/oral (F!receiving), creampies, cursing, light scar worship, intimacy, angst.

For the song that inspired this, listen here.

Without further ado!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N began her rehabilitation training within one week of awakening from her coma.

For those seven days of rest, Y/N had fielded all sorts of visitors — the Master, escorted by his two daughters; the Love Pillar, who had wasted no time throwing her arms around Y/N’s shoulders and sobbing in relief; and three of the Mansion’s youngest girls, all of whom crawled up on her bed and cried while hugging her.

Uzui had sent her a note by crow telling her he would be by to see her as soon as his wives finished making her favorite treat — red bean mochi — and said they could compare battle wounds in celebration of their feat.

Y/N had neither seen nor heard as much of a whisper from the Flame Pillar.

The Ice Pillar resolved to distract herself from the glaring absence of the man who embodied fire, though every day that passed without word from him only seemed to make that absence more pronounced.

Y/N had thrown herself into her rehabilitation training, as supervised by Shinobu. Because she was a Hashira, her recovery was vastly different from that of lower-ranked slayers, and she worked with the Insect Pillar directly, rather than with the haughty Aoi and other younger Mansion girls.

That particular morning, the Love Pillar had joined them in an effort to recuperate Y/N’s loss of flexibility as the result of the nearly two months she��d spent sedentary. Y/N cherished the one-on-one time she had with the other two women Hashira; the three of them had formed a tight bond with one another since ascending as Pillars, united amidst the predominance of male demon slayers.  

“Good! Now just bend this way-“ Mitsuri Kanroji kept a steady hand at the small of Y/N’s back as Y/N arched over backward, teeth grinding as her stiff spine resisted her movement.

“Almost there! Just touch your other hand to the floor and hold it!” The Love Hashira said encouragingly.

Y/N stretched her left arm over her head as hard as she could. Her fingers had just graced the wooden grain of the training room floor when her body seized, and her legs gave out from under her.

“Oh!” Mitsuri caught Y/N effortlessly before she could crumple to the floor, gently helping her to sit while blushing at the stream of colorful curses that poured from the Ice Pillar’s mouth.  

“This damn wound,” Y/N moaned, her hand pressing against the angry red mark that curved from below her belly button to her right hip. “You would think it would have healed by now.”

Shinobu frowned as she crouched next to the Ice Pillar, fingers lightly prodding at the scar left behind by Upper Moon Six. “It has healed; if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t have scarred already.” Shinobu pursed her lips. “Though, I suppose it could just be a residual effect of the Upper Rank’s blood demon art – after all, it was no ordinary blade that he pierced you with, was it?”

Y/N shook her head, though she tried to suppress the memory of the demon’s cursed flesh blade ramming through her back and into her stomach. “The blade was his conduit for his blood demon art – but I think it was made from him.”

“How often does it hurt, Y/N?” Mitsuri asked, rubbing soothing circles on her friend’s upper back. Mitsuri was one of the few people Y/N knew who preferred to give physical comfort, and Y/N was grateful for it.

Y/N furrowed her brows in thought. “In a way, there’s always just this dull ache I feel, though it becomes sharper whenever I move a particular way.” Y/N pulled at the band of her uniform bottoms in discomfort. “And, it doesn’t help that these damn pants chafe and rub against it. I’ve even foregone the belt, and it still feels like they’re cutting into me.”

Mitsuri hummed in thought. “Have you considered one of the uniform skirts? They sit a little higher on the waist, so they’re less likely to aggravate it.”

Y/N scowled. “I would rather be stabbed by Upper Six again than request a skirt from that pervert tailor,” she said severely, “Sorry,” she added when she saw the Love Pillar flush with embarrassment.

“Lecherous Corps tailors aside, you may have a good point, Mitsuri.” Shinobu said, eyeing Y/N’s uniform pants in thought. “Y/N, do you mind if I brainstorm some designs for you? I can’t promise whatever I come up with will be suitable for public appearances or assignments, but I might be able to come up with something that will at least keep you comfortable while you heal and build back your strength.”

Y/N smiled as she stretched her legs out, bringing herself into a pose meant to flex her hips. “I’d be grateful for anything you could do, Shinobu.”

The Insect Pillar nodded. “Mitsuri, you know how to sew quite well, do you not? I’m afraid my proficiency with the needle is limited to sewing up wounds.”

The pinkette glowed with enthusiasm. “Yes! I have an entire room dedicated to sewing at my Estate – if you bring by your designs, I’m sure I could put something together!”

Shinobu smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’ll see what I can come up with tonight, and I’ll bring it by in the morning.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the dedication her two friends showed towards her comfort and recovery. “Thank you both, from the bottom of my heart.”

Shinobu’s smile turned wicked. “Don’t thank us yet, Y/N. You have agility training next.”

Y/N groaned and pulled on her uniform top, buttoning it over her bindings. As a Hashira, agility training meant that she was to meet the Wind Pillar outside of Kocho’s estate where she would endure two hours of having to dodge his relentless attacks. Y/N got along just fine with Shinazugawa – he’d even welcomed her back, and gruffly complimented her work in the Entertainment District – but that did not mean he eased up in his ruthless training.  

By the time the Wind Pillar had dismissed her with a satisfied nod, Y/N had all but limped back to her room, wondering whether she could even summon the strength to bathe after such an arduous day. She almost decided against it, but when her newest scar began to pulse and throb once more, she knew nothing else would soothe it better than the hot water in Kocho’s private hot spring.

Y/N greeted the bowing Kakushi who guarded the entrance to the northernmost wing of the Butterfly Mansion’s hospital as she passed by, and she hoped that Aoi had remembered to restock her room with fresh towels so she could go straight to her bath from her room.

She drew short at the sight of a familiar figure which stood outside of Kocho’s office, leaning against the wall of the small hallway.

“Rengoku!” Y/N was startled, taking a step back in surprise at the sight of the Flame Pillar.

“Y/L/N.” The man who reminded her of the sun nodded in greeting, but his familiar, sunny disposition was noticeably absent, his face impassive and his voice detached.

“I am happy to see you in good health.” Rengoku spoke with unnatural formality; he’d never used that cold, detached manner of speaking to her, not once since she’d caught him staring at her right before the commencement of Final Selection all those years ago.

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“Ice Pillar Y/L/N!” His sunny voice boomed, and Y/N groaned. She’d just gotten her migraine to calm down.

“Rengoku,” she nodded politely, as her comrade came to stand beside her, all smiles and warmth. 

“It’s been a while, Y/L/N! I was beginning to forget what you look like when you roll your eyes at me.” He laughed, and Y/N scowled.

“Perhaps I’ll pay to have my photograph taken, Rengoku. That way, you can carry it with you wherever you go.”

Rengoku turned to her, an eyebrow raised in surprise at her willingness to engage with his banter so quickly. “If that’s the case, Y/N, I’d prefer to have one of you smiling. It would do well to keep me warm on those cold nights away from home.”

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“I heard you were called away on another mission— some train?” Y/N asked him as they strolled through the Master’s garden following their meeting.

“Yes, we’ve unfortunately lost a number of slayers. Perhaps it’s an upper rank!” The Flame Pillar responded jovially, but he stopped in front of Y/N when he saw her frown.

“What is it?” His voice was gentle, and Y/N shook her head, focusing her eyes on the blooming wisteria saplings that had been planted.

A warm finger curled under her chin and tilted her face up until her eyes clashed with pools of golden ore. “My dear Ice Pillar, are you worried for me?” He was smirking, and his thumb lightly caressed the underside of her jaw.

Y/N gingerly took his hand and removed it from her face, though she did not let it go right away. “You are the Flame Hashira, Rengoku. If anyone is capable of defeating an Upper Rank, it most certainly is you.” 

Rengoku smiled broadly at her, his hand nearly grazing her own. “For someone whose prowess lies in ice breathing, Y/L/N, you sure know how to start fires.”

Under any other circumstance, she would have changed the subject, or not said anything at all. But Y/N couldn’t help her sudden desire to flirt back, just to see if she could knock him off his feet as he so often tried to do to her.

“Yours is the only one I’m interested in stoking, Rengoku.” She said sweetly.

She’d laughed at the Flame Pillar’s beet-red face for the rest of the day.

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“And I, you.” Y/N responded, her eyes still wide with surprise as she came to a stop before him, maintaining a cautious distance between them.

A pregnant pause followed, and Y/N made to speak once more, but she was cut off by another deep throb from the wound on her lower abdomen, her hand unconsciously flying to press against it as she swallowed the gasp that threatened to leave her.   

“You’re in pain.” It wasn’t a question.

Y/N shrugged in a feeble attempt at nonchalance. “I suppose it’s to be expected for a while yet. At least until I recover.”

Rengoku said nothing, and the silence felt suffocating.

“Would you-“ Y/N hesitated, and inwardly she’d never felt more embarrassed, or more uncertain than she did then as she stood before the uncharacteristically stoic Flame Pillar. “Would you like to sit down?”

Rengoku’s face remained impassive, and he turned away from her, dismissively.

“I cannot. I came only to retrieve a salve from Kocho.” His voice was just as cold, just as unfamiliar as the rest of him had been.

“Rengoku, is everything all right?” She stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder but was alarmed at how quickly he flinched away from her as if her touch could burn him.

“Everything is fine, Y/L/N. I need to be on my way.” Rengoku’s voice was flat, monotone, and wholly foreign to her.

“I’m sorry for not thanking you sooner — for everything you did to help me that night.” Y/N blurted, and to her relief, Rengoku froze mid-step, though he did not turn towards her. “I owe you my life.”

She did not miss the way Rengoku’s fists clenched at his side. “You owe me nothing. I would have done the same for any other comrade.” He replied, voice tight. “I must get going now. Farewell, Y/L/N.

She was so stunned that she’d not bidden him farewell back. Rather, she’d stood helplessly in her doorway, even long after the edge of his haori had disappeared around the corner of the Butterfly Mansion’s hall.

He had not looked at her once.

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(Kyojuro’s POV)

Kyojuro’s fists remained clenched the entire journey back to his estate.

He felt disgusted with himself. He felt like a coward.

It had nearly knocked him to his knees to see Y/L/N up and standing and talking because for so long, he had feared he would never again see the way she crinkled her nose when she laughed, or how she tucked that one loose strand of hair behind her ear whenever she was concentrating — the one that never stayed put in her braid.

But he had not been able to meet her eyes; couldn’t bear to bring himself to try, because he had been terrified of what he would see.

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Every night for the last two months, he has dreamed of her.

They were not pretty dreams, not like those he had before when he’d wrap her in his arms and kiss her until she laughed, the two of them living in a monster-free world and at peace.

Now, he dreamt of vacant eyes-tinged blue, unseeing and unblinking and frozen, just like the rest of her. He dreams of iced skin and blood and poison pouring from her mouth and her nose until she chokes, her chest rising once with a final rattle before it falls still.

He dreams of Upper Three, smiling deviously as he aims his fist to deal his final blow, and Kyojuro wrenches his blade down, desperate to finally win.

Only, his blade decapitates Y/N, not the Upper Rank demon and he is helpless to watch her head bounce pathetically to the ground. His hands are covered in her blood, and instead of disintegrating, her body falls uselessly to the side. Human.

As quickly as he kills her, the dream changes. He is in a lively street, filled to the brim with street vendors and women and men offering their services. It is night but the lights of the shops and gambling dens and pleasure houses are so bright that it looks like daytime.

He recognizes her by the back of her haori, and his feet move towards her, relieved to see her amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. He reaches out to touch her shoulder, her name whispering on his lips. But she turns before he can make contact, and though she looks healthy, her eyes — her eyes are white and unseeing.

I don’t understand, she pleads with him, it doesn’t make sense.

Kyojuro looks around in alarm and they are no longer standing amongst eager entertainment seekers, but among flame and wreckage, the once-ornately decorated stalls now smashed to splinters as fire slowly consumes the skeletal remains of the entertainment district.

He turns back to her right as a blade pierces through her gut, lifting her from the ground before letting her drop.

His hands shake as he reaches for her, desperate to check her wounds, but when she looks up at him, he stumbles back.

She is all wrong. Her skin is mottled and rotting from her face, and her hair is gray and matted. In place of her eyes are black holes, empty and cold.

Why can’t I come with you? Why can’t I go home, Kyojuro?

Please take me home.

Every night for the last two months, he awoke screaming.

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Y/L/N was alive; he knew that. He knew that if he looked at her, he would not see a corpse; but terrifying visuals aside, Kyojuro had not been able to look at her because he knew what his nightmares were telling him.

He’d been responsible for her near death.

If the Kakushi had returned with a box rather than a Pillar, it would have been his fault.

The thought that Y/L/N — his Y/L/N -- had almost obtained her own headstone in the Master’s graveyard had rocked him to his very core, for that had almost become a reality. She had actually died – for the briefest moment – in his arms; and it had been his fault.

Why can't I go home, Kyojuro?

And though Y/N had awoken from her slumber, her corpse still haunted Kyojuro’s dreams.

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(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N was sprawled on her infirmary floor, preparing her limbs for another day of rigorous recuperation training at the hands of her fellow Hashira.

She stood to stretch her arms and lower back, wincing slightly at the pull of her scar. “Don’t you start,” she warned her body, willing total concentration breathing to dull the persistent ache that threatened to derail her entire day.

Y/N sensed movement near her doorway and knew, without looking, who watched her as she warmed up her aching muscles.

“Uzui retired. It’s time for you to do the same.”

Y/N who had been in mid-stretch, righted herself and blinked at the Flame Pillar. “Pardon?” Both the news of Uzui’s retirement and Rengoku’s words were a shock to her.

“Retire, Y/LN.” Rengoku repeated in that detached manner of his that she hardly recognized. “You helped take down an Upper Rank. You’ve done enough. Let someone else shoulder the burden, now.”

“I see no reason to retire, Rengoku.” Y/N retorted, voice hardening. “And unless and until the Master requests it or I perish, I see no reason to do so.”

Rengoku exhaled harshly through his nose. “You were injured — seriously so.”

“As were you, and yet you seem to have no intention of slowing down.” Y/N said, coolly.

Rengoku’s attention stayed fixed on the garden outside her window. “And I was only unconscious for three weeks. You were out for nearly two months, Y/L/N. That is unheard of and frankly, unacceptable for a Hashira.”

“What is your problem?” Y/N was growing more irritated the longer this inane conversation dragged on, and it wasn’t helping that Rengoku still refused to so much as look her direction, let alone meet her eyes. “Is this about what happened after you brought me here? Kocho told me everything — I’m not mad.”

Rengoku’s shoulders tensed. “It was necessary. Again, I would have done it for any one of my comrades.”

Y/N felt like she’d been slapped.

“You keep saying that, yet you won’t look at me— why?” Her confusion and hurt were beginning to melt into anger. “If I am just another comrade, then you should be able to meet my eyes.”

Rengoku said nothing.

“What Uzui did for me— that was what comrades do,” Y/N continued, her voice growing stronger as her blood grew hotter. “But you? You and I both know you were under no obligation to bring me back from the brink of death the way you did.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Y/L/N,” Rengoku answered after a long moment.

Y/N took a step towards him. “I want to know why.”

“It was necessary.”

Y/N felt like throttling him.

How long had they danced around each other? How many times had they caught themselves staring at the other for a breath longer than normal, had allowed an otherwise friendly touch during a spar linger?

How could he have held her, half nude for hours, putting himself on the brink of death all for the sake of keeping her alive — and then tell her she was the same as any other comrade?

“What are we doing Rengoku -- is this to be our destiny?” Y/N demanded, exasperatedly, her voice hard. “We continue to pretend like we don’t care about one another until one of us dies?”

Rengoku remained silent, back still turned away from her.

“We’ve each had a near-death experience in a matter of months,” Y/N continued, throat working hard to keep her voice steady despite the telling burn of angry tears in her eyes. “By all accounts, one if not both of us should be dead.”

“And yet, somehow, you expect me to act as though the fact you carried me back here— that you put yourself on death’s door to keep my heart beating — doesn’t mean anything?”

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense for him to fight so hard for her, to make her believe that someone valued her life that much, only to cast her aside.

She hadn’t wanted to wake up, initially; she’d felt relief for the hair’s breadth she’d thought she’d finally met her end. He was the one who dragged her back, and now he wouldn’t even look at her.

It didn’t make sense.

Y/N’s fists shook beside her, and she felt the venomous words fly from her mouth before she could stop them.

“You should’ve let me die.”

No sooner had she let the poison drip from her mouth had she felt herself flying backward, back slamming against the nearest wall of her temporary room.

“Never,” Rengoku snarled at her, his arm pressing firmly against her shoulders to hold her in place against the wood. “Never say those words to me again.”

Y/N’s chest was heaving, and she trembled beneath him, her fury threatening to explode out of her.

“There is no place on this earth where you could be in peril and I would not find you,” he said quietly, his eyes a simmering, fiery orange. “Where I wouldn’t find a way to bring you back home.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Y/N said softly, breath still coming hard from her nose but no longer from her anger.

“Doesn’t it?” Rengoku was close, dangerously close.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to lean in, to close the distance that barely existed between Rengoku’s face and hers and finally be done with all the nonsense. But he had spent so much time avoiding her gaze until that moment, and Y/N felt more lost than ever, set adrift by the look of heat and longing that was mixed with the burning rage in his eyes.

Something tugged incessantly at her gut and it would not allow her to move from her place against her recovery room’s wall.

Instead, her arms came up to rest against Rengoku’s chest before gently, but firmly, pushing him away.

“No, it doesn’t.” She repeated. “And I am tired, Rengoku.”

The Flame Pillar allowed himself to be pushed away, but he looked at her with a small, cruel smile.

“Then you’re right; it doesn’t mean anything at all.”

She flinched against the ugly slap of his words. Y/N had expected him to hit back, but she hadn’t anticipated his venom to sting as much as it did.

She felt all of the fight within her gutter out, leaving her with nothing but a heavy weight in her chest that she wished she couldn’t feel.

“Y/L/N, I-“ the Flame Pillar almost sounded remorseful.

“Thank you, for your clarification, Lord Rengoku,” she said numbly, formally, parroting his earlier tone with her. “And thank you for your assistance that night. Please, next time — don’t trouble yourself.”

Rengoku hesitated for a moment, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach for her. He swallowed hard, and turned away, shutting the door to Y/N’s infirmary.

The moment the door at clicked shut, Y/N exhaled harshly, stumbling back against her bed as she hugged her arms around herself, and she tried to keep herself from falling apart.

It shouldn’t have hurt this bad. They were both in the Demon Slayer Corps; they saved strangers all the time without it ever meaning anything other than good will and a desire to exterminate all demons.

So why did his insistence that she was no different hurt so badly?

Because she wasn’t a stranger.

Because, while she’d always known she wasn’t his, she’d still thought she’d been something.

As Y/N curled against her blanket, an unsettling numbness began to spread from her heart, quieting even the dull ache from the scar across her belly, Y/N realized that she’d meant nothing to the Flame Pillar all along.

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(Kyojuro’s POV)

He hated himself.

He utterly and truly despised himself.

He’d been hurt by her insistence that she did not know his feelings even though he was the one who’d opened the door, yet somehow, it still felt like a rejection.

So he’d hit back, only for her to visibly recoil at the sharp blow of his words.

He would not forgive himself, for as long as he lived, for the way the light in her eyes had winked out.

He did not know what bothered him more: the fact that she’d assumed that he regretted keeping her alive, or that she’d said “next time” he needn’t bother. As though she were counting on there being a next time.

He knew he should turn around; knew that he should barge back into her hospital room, drop to his knees, and beg her to forgive his cruelty.

He knew that he should explain to her why he found it so difficult to admit his feelings for her — that he had watched his father turn into a shell of a man and abandon his children in the wake of their mother’s death, leaving them to raise themselves. That he had vowed, as he’d watched his father drink his days away, that he would never be like him, would never abandon those who relied on him most.

He’d promised that he would never be a coward, even if, in all honesty, the idea that he, Kyojuro, could ever love someone that fiercely only to have them ripped from his grasp terrified him to no end.

As he forced his legs to carry him to back to his estate, Kyojuro wondered if perhaps, in his desperation not to turn into his father, he’d become the old man after all.

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(Shinobu’s POV)

Shinobu felt the Flame Pillar’s presence in her office before she saw him, though she was in no rush to give him his salve, especially not after what she’d overheard him spit at her friend.

“If you do not mind, I would like to send my crow to collect this from here on,” Rengoku said tightly, and Shinobu could sense his failing attempt to keep his fury in check.

“Very well then,” the Insect Pillar responded just as tersely, turning away from the papers and books on her desk to pull out the small tin containing the salve the Flame Pillar used to soothe the ache of the scar he now bore across his pectoral and shoulder. Rather than handing it to him, she tossed it through the air, the Flame Hashira catching it swiftly in his hand.

Rengoku nodded his thanks and turned to leave.

“I didn’t realize it was against Corps’ rules to care about our comrades,” Shinobu said icily, if not to signal to him that there had been spectators to his ugly outburst.

He couldn’t resist taking her bait. “Maybe it should be. It would be easier that way — for everyone.”

“Is that so?” Kocho sneered, no hint of familiarity or kindness in her features; nothing but that poisonous, deadly smile. “Well, if that was the case, then you would’ve preferred Uzui to leave Y/L/N for dead among the rubble in Yoshiwara, correct?

“You would rather us be searching to fill the newest Hashira vacancy, with her corpse barely cold in the ground-“

“Do not say another word, Kocho.” Rengoku warned, quietly.

But for Shinobu, anger was her vice, and so his warning only spurred her on.

“Tell me, Rengoku, if the new Pillar had been a woman, would you have held her the way you held Y/N?”

Shinobu’s smile was chilling as she relished the way the Flame Pillar began to tremble. “Or perhaps, would you finally confess to her, having learned your lesson from the missed opportunity with Y/N? Would you live out your days with her, while Y/N rotted below the earth, having never known someone loved her?”

“ENOUGH.” Rengoku roared, and for a moment, Shinobu thought the Flame Pillar might put his clenched fist through her wall. The silence that followed was tense and long as Rengoku struggled to calm his breathing.

“What do you want from me, Kocho?” Rengoku finally snapped, wheeling around to glower at the Insect Pillar, eyes half-crazed in his frustration.

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(Two months earlier)

Dawn was still far off, but the hall of her estate was a mess.

Shinobu knew that at any moment, another group of Kakushi would be coming through the hole Rengoku had left in her wall bearing the unconscious body of the Sound Pillar, and if they did so, they’d be stumbling upon the chaotic scene that had unfolded before.

Rengoku was still on the floor, legs on either side of Y/N, who was slumped against his chest and fully exposed from the waist up.

With some satisfaction, Shinobu noted that the dark purple bruising around Y/N’s chest was clearing, a sure sign that she had chosen the correct antidote for the Flame Hashira to slam into her heart.

But her hypothermia persisted.

Rengoku, on the other hand, was beginning to breathe rather loudly, no doubt as he continued to maintain his high fever for the sake of the unmoving woman braced between his thighs.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu crouched down next to the Flame Pillar, her hand coming to a rest on his shoulder, which burned beneath her palm. “Rengoku, we need to move.”

The man lifted his head up to meet her eyes, his own glassy and unfocused. Shinobu clamped down on the swear building on her tongue — he had fever fog.

Rengoku grunted at her before his head slumped back down, chin nearly touching his chest.

Shinobu tried again. “Rengoku, we are in the open hallway of the Butterfly Mansion. Others will be arriving soon. Y/N is completed exposed.”

That seemed to get his attention. Rengoku’s head lifted, his eyes narrowed slits, but nonetheless open. He grunted in some sort of acknowledgement and began to shift Y/N in his lap.

He turned the unconscious Ice Pillar so that her back rested against one arm that curled around her bare waist. His free arm slid to grip beneath her knees, shifting her into a bridal-style position to carry her.

Two of the Butterfly Mansion’s staff moved to help him stand, but Rengoku shrugged them off, surprising Shinobu as he managed to rise steadily to his feet, Y/N secured against his chest.

He looked at Shinobu expectantly and she began ushering him towards a secluded wing of the Manor, towards her private hall. Across from her personal office was a special infirmary room, walled off from the rest of the recovery ward.

Shinobu withdrew a ring of keys from her pocket and unlocked the heavy, wooden door.

“You two can stay in here until her body temperature returns to normal,” She said, as Rengoku made his way towards the recovery bed.

Shinobu watched as Rengoku, still wearing his zori and uniform pants, ever so gently lowered himself and Y/N down on the bed, repeating his earlier positioning of her between his thighs. He propped up one leg slightly to keep the Ice Pillar from slumping over, her back pressed to his bare chest. Rengoku leaned against the headboard so that Y/N’s head could rest against his clavicle, though it slumped instead towards her left shoulder.

Shinobu made to grab a blanket to throw over the two topless Hashira but stopped short as Rengoku made to move again.

He seemed to realize that Y/N, while also still in her torn uniform pants and zori, was still bare from the waist up, her body positioned towards the door. He frowned, his hand coming up to graze the side of her arm. He flinched slightly, no doubt at the persistent chill that lingered on her skin, and he moved both of his large hands down over the back of hers as they lay limply on either side of her thighs, intertwining their fingers.

Awestruck, Shinobu watched as Rengoku brought Y/N’s arms up to cross them over her chest, locking them in place by covering her arms with his own, as though wrapping her in a sweet embrace. Shinobu knew that he’d done so to avoid touching her bare breasts himself, or at least to do so as minimally as possible, while still providing her cover. And, due to the breadth of Rengoku’s muscled forearms, Y/N’s sensitive area was almost entirely obscured from view.

Rengoku had barely been clinging to consciousness himself, and once she was sufficiently hidden in his arms, his head dropped forward until his forehead came to a rest on Y/N’s shoulder, opposite of where she’d rolled her head.

To the unassuming eye, it would have appeared as though the pair of Hashira were simply engaged in an intimate moment, rather than one desperately trying to anchor the other to life.

Shinobu moved to place the blanket over the Pillars’ laps, before quietly exiting the private room.

“Seal this wing off entirely,” she murmured to Aoi, who had been waiting dutifully outside. “No one comes down here without my explicit permission.”

Aoi bowed to her before she ushered the other Kakushi out. Faintly, Shinobu heard the arriving shouts of the group bearing the Sound Pillar. She took a single deep breath, steeling herself once more, before moving to check on her incoming patient.

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

Shinobu raised her chin, looking down her nose at him in disgust. “I’m waiting for the man who would have set the world ablaze to save Y/N to reappear.”

She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m waiting for the man who used his own body as her lifeline, and who tried to smash open the infirmary door when he was delirious with fever because he thought that she had died while he was asleep.”

The Insect Pillar’s masked smile finally slipped from her face and her true rage towards the Flame Pillar shone through. “It is cruel to make her feel as though she’s done something wrong,” Shinobu’s arms folded across her chest. “And it is cruel to you both for you to pretend as though she does not mean anything to you. Haven’t you both been through enough? Are you not exhausted as well?”

A tortured look passed over Rengoku’s face. “It is better this way, Kocho. I do not want to be the cause of her pain, and I cannot survive going through what happened to her again.

“For all your talk about either of you dying, I’ve yet to hear you mention the equal alternative,” Shinobu sighed, gathering her papers and books. “The one where we win and you both live. What do you suppose happens then?”

Rengoku said nothing and so, Shinobu continued. “Suppose we emerge victorious – would you truly prefer for you and Y/N to go your separate ways – to never see one another again, or never acknowledge the bond the two of you share?”

“There is no guarantee that either of us survives, Kocho,” Rengoku said quietly, his eyes falling to his feet.

Shinobu smiled but it was no longer cruel or bitter; it was wistful. “And there is no guarantee that either of you die. That’s the fickle nature of humanity, is it not? The very reason we fight?”

The Insect Pillar gathered her papers and stacked them neatly on her shelf. “For the possibilities of it all.”

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

The sun was high in the sky by the time Shinobu had a moment to check on the two unconscious pillars in the back room.

Uzui had required quite a bit of attention in order to stop the poison from becoming deadly, though the fact that her combination of the wisteria antidote with the amphetamine had been so effective on Y/N meant that Shinobu was able to administer the same to the Sound Pillar in half the time.

She was exhausted; the strain of the night’s events weighed heavily on her, but she had to check on Y/N’s temperature — if the Ice Pillar still had not recovered, she feared that hope was lost.

She pushed the door to the private infirmary room open and saw the two Hashira, still in the same position she’d left them in. Rengoku was deeply asleep, no doubt from the exhaustion wrought by his high fever.

Enclosed within his arms, Y/N remained unconscious but pink.

Shinobu felt the relief course through her, but she did not allow herself to relax until she reached out a hand to lightly pinch the Ice Pillar’s cheek.

It bloomed red beneath her fingers, and it was warm to the touch.

He’d done it. The Flame Pillar had staved off her hypothermia. Their only obstacle now lay in getting her to reawaken.

Shinobu laid her hand across Rengoku’s forehead, frowning at the scorching heat of his brow; his fever had worsened more than she’d anticipated, and he would need intervention soon. She turned to nod at the Kakushi who waited by the door to the recovery room, and the three of them moved to separate the Flame and Ice Pillars.

“Put him in one of the other single-recovery rooms. Tell Aoi to administer the fever medication I keep in my cabinet – it should dispel his fever within a few hours.” Shinobu ordered, as the Kakushi, with great effort, lifted the Flame Pillar from his position behind Y/N. Shinobu gently eased her friend down against the bed and pulled a blanket over her exposed torso. “I will also need a fresh hospital gown for Lady Y/L/N.”

The Kakushi nodded their assent and got to work, heaving the unconscious Flame Pillar towards the door when he awoke. At first, his eyes were dazed, and confused as they darted around him, but as he took in his surroundings, he began to struggle against the grip of the Kakushi.

“Please, Lord Rengoku, your fever is dangerously high! Allow us to help!” One of them cried, though his efforts to tug the Pillar away were futile. Shinobu supposed the only reason he had not yet succeeded in completely throwing them off was the fact that his fever had severely weakened him.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sternly, coming around from her position by Y/N to meet his eyes, though he only thrashed harder against the Kakushi as he began to mutter incoherently under his breath. “Rengoku, that’s enough. You’re safe. You’re in the Butterfly Mansion, and you have a high fever. Please, let the Kakushi do their job.”

But the Insect Pillar’s words fell on deaf ears as Rengoku began to hyperventilate, his muscles straining as he tried desperately to break free from the Kakushi’s hold. Shinobu was at a loss; her comrade did not merely look frantic – he looked terrified, desperate, and utterly beyond reproach or reason. His heart rate had spiked considerably, and his breath was jerky and uneven, as though he could not fully understand where he was or that he was amongst friends.

As she strained to make out what the Flame Pillar repeated, over and over, under his breath, Shinobu realized that his eyes were not unfocused at all; they were locked on the unconscious Ice Pillar in the bed behind her.

“I can still save her!” he roared.

It all made sense then.

Shinobu realized that he thought they were moving him not because he’d successfully thwarted her hypothermia, but because he had failed — and that she was now dead.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sharply, trying to force the irate and delirious Flame Pillar to meet her eyes. “Rengoku, Y/N is alive. Her body temperature has returned to normal. She is safe.”

But the Flame Pillar seemed not to hear her, as he only struggled harder against the Kakushi desperately trying to usher him out of Y/N’s room.

Rengoku was becoming more violent, even as the Kakushi finally managed to shove him through the doorway of Y/N’s room. Just before they’d managed to slam the door shut, Shinobu caught Aoi’s eye and nodded, the younger girl quickly disappeared into the Pillar’s office.

Shinobu watched in stunned silence as the Flame Pillar broke free from the Kakushi and began hurtling his body against the door, Y/N’s name falling from his lips in an anguished chant.

Rengoku was so delirious in his fevered panic that he did not notice Aoi slip behind him and plunge a syringe into his neck, depositing a thick stream of the clear liquid that Shinobu knew would have a near-instantaneous effect on his consciousness.

The Insect Pillar felt a strange sense of pity and remorse as she watched her friend slump to the floor outside of the infirmary room, a final cry out for the Ice Pillar falling from his lips before the sedative lulled him back to sleep.

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

(Kyojuro’s POV – three days later)

He didn’t know why he’d returned to the Butterfly Mansion.

Kyojuro tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to wait for his crow to return with Kocho’s salve, but he knew it was a pathetic excuse. He’d sworn to himself that he would leave Y/L/N alone after their last argument. He’d vowed that the door between them had been closed for good, and they would only ever be colleagues. Nothing more.

But he couldn’t stay away. Perhaps it was because he’d spent the last few days stewing over their last argument, and somewhere, amidst his endless supply of self-hatred, he’d also grown angry with the Ice Pillar.

Angry, because she had put herself in harm’s way when he’d specifically told her not to.

Angry because she’d nearly died, and she’d threatened to take the last vestiges of his sanity with her to the afterlife.

Angry that she insisted on remaining in the Demon Slayer Corps despite having given more than enough of herself to their cause; angry that she didn’t understand why he couldn’t yet do the same.

Angry because she didn’t seem to understand his feelings at all.

Perhaps in another life, they could have had each other. Had they both been born into a world without demons, then maybe they would have still found each other and maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to love her the way she deserved.

But for Kyojuro, their relationship would always be defined by a series of maybes, and nothing more.

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

It would have been a lie for Kyojuro to say he’d not been struck dumb by her.

She was stretched out on the steps of Kocho’s engawa, legs dangling off the edge of the porch as she leaned back on her elbows, eyes closed dreamily as she kept her face tilted up towards the cooling night air.

Long, lean, bare legs, he realized, an uncomfortable heat creeping up his collar. He couldn’t help running his eyes up their length, fixating hard on the supple curves of her thighs.

Why were her legs bare?

She looked…so unguarded this way. Her haori was draped around her shoulders, one of its sleeves hanging loosely to the side and exposing her bare shoulder – how exposed was she, the idiot – and her hair was completely unbound, falling in a silken river to her waist.

It was a stark contrast to the braided crown she wore at the base of her neck. It hit him that, not counting the night she’d nearly died, he had not otherwise seen her with her hair down.

He liked it. A lot.

“I finally rid myself of one migraine only for another to appear,” Y/N’s lofty voice snapped him out of his reverence, as the Ice Pillar opened her eyes to glare at him. 

“If you’ve come for Shinobu, she is not here. She’s on an errand and will not be back until early morning.” Y/N turned her attention away from him and back towards the garden, her voice stony.

At that moment, there were a million things Kyojuro could have said to the Ice Pillar.  

How are you?

I missed the way you glare at me.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Any of those options would have been far better than what came tumbling out of his mouth.

“I hadn’t realized you were indecent. My apologies.”

Y/N’s head snapped back to him, her eyes chips of ice. “Indecent?” She rose from her seat on the engawa and faced him fully, and Rengoku nearly groaned.

Indecent, indeed.

Y/N was showing more skin than Kanroji did on a regular day. As she stood, Rengoku saw that she was hardly wearing any clothing at all, save for the haori draped loosely around her frame.

The Ice Pillar wore no top but the bindings around her chest, leaving a sizeable swath of her midriff exposed to the summer air. Whatever she wore as bottoms could hardly be labeled as “pants,” given that their hem ended just short of the middle of her thigh, leaving the vast majority of her legs exposed to anyone who would happen to walk by.  

The Flame Pillar felt as though he were overheating, and he tugged uselessly at the collar of his uniform shirt. As he looked over the scowling Ice Pillar, Rengoku found himself unable to remember why he had come to the Mansion at all.  

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

(Y/N’s POV)

(Earlier that day)

“Ta-da!” Mitsuri sang as she pulled the small bundle from behind her, a grin wide on her face. “A gift from Shinobu and myself!”

Y/N peered down quizzically at the small, folded bunch of cloth in the Love Pillar’s hands. “What is it?”

“A new take on the Corps’ uniform,” Shinobu replied crisply, sitting down on the tatami floor of her office. “I designed it myself, and Mitsuri sewed it.”

“But what is it?” Y/N pressed.

Mitsuri joined Shinobu on the floor. “Your new training pants. Altered, so that you have more flexibility and less irritation against your wound.”

Y/N held up the tiny scrap of fabric between her index finger and thumb. “Are you telling me these are pants?”

Mitsuri and Shinobu nodded, smiling.

Y/N looked incredulously at the two women. “But where are the pants?”

Mitsuri laughed. “Think of it as a cross between the uniform skirt and pants, but more modified.”

Shinobu nodded. “I used the same material that our uniform is made out of but designed it in a way to be more flexible – it will mold to your body rather than require you to use a belt to keep it up.” Y/N unfurled the cloth and gaped down at it. “They likely aren’t suitable for public, but around here and during your training, they should be perfectly adequate.”

“Perfectly adequate?” Y/N repeated, turning the garment over in her hands. “Shinobu, these are underclothes! Not pants!” The Ice Pillar could not stop herself from giggling. “My legs will be entirely exposed!”

“Try them on!” Mitsuri urged. “Shinobu and I estimated they would hit around mid-thigh, so you’ll still have some coverage.” Mitsuri looked down at her own skirt in consideration. “Slightly more so than I do.”

Y/N groaned but removed her uniform pants and slid into her friends’ gift. She was surprised at how comfortable they felt; they had a similar feel to the chest bindings most of the women in the Corps wore, in terms of fit. The black bottoms had no true waistband, but fit snuggly at the dip of her waist, before hugging her hips and thighs until the hem cut right above the middle of her thigh.

“How do they feel?” Shinobu asked as Y/N inspected the new garment.

Y/N turned from side to side, testing their flexibility. “Good. They don’t seem to rub against the scar at all.” Y/N smiled devilishly at her friends. “Even if they do leave little to the imagination.”

MItsuri giggled. “I hadn’t noticed Y/N, but you have – oh, what did Uzui call it?” She scrunched her eyebrows in thought. “Oh! An ‘easy and deliverable type of butt!’” The three girls laughed, carefree as Y/N wiggled her hips suggestively in front of her friends, her heart warm at the care and consideration they had put into their gift.

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

Y/N mused that Mitsuri’s assessment of how she looked in the undershorts had been correct as Rengoku’s eyes raked over her as she stood tall before him, an unmistakable glint of hunger glowing in his amber pools.

Until they snagged on the thick, curved gash that extended from the band of her bottoms to just over her belly button.

In an instant, simmering fire of the Flame Pillar’s gaze had been snuffed out, something harder and colder taking over as he glared at where Upper Moon Six had buried his poisoned sickle within her.

Under any other circumstance, Y/N might have felt self-conscious at the mixture of frigid contempt that pulled on Rengoku’s face as he ran his eyes over her scar, but at that moment, it only made her blood boil.

“You should return to your room. You shouldn’t be out here exposed like this.” Rengoku said after a moment, his eyes moving away from her to stare over her shoulder, resolutely avoiding her gaze.

Y/N wondered briefly if it were possible to make someone combust with the fire of their stare. She was so tired and so angry at the way in which he demanded she stay at arm’s length yet felt utterly entitled to boss her around.

She decided then that she would not comply. Instead, Y/N took one step and then another, and again until she pushed past him, marching intently up the path she knew led away from the Butterfly Estate and to a secluded, grassy, hilled clifftop.

“Stop — Y/L/N” Rengoku growled, lunging after her, but Y/N, despite her injured state, was still faster than he, and she twisted out of his grasp before he could grab her and haul her back to the Mansion.

She probably looked insane, and maybe she was -- barely dressed, hair unbound, and striding towards that grassy hill up the winding path from Shinobu’s estate like she had any idea what she was doing.

The Flame Pillar followed.

—————————————————————--------

Apart from her close friendship with the Insect Pillar, there was another reason Y/N spent so much time in and around the Butterfly Mansion — its view.

Though she supposed this secret area she’d discovered couldn’t really be counted as part of Shinobu’s Estate — it was, after all, up a rather steep and twisting climb from the western-most point of her friend’s manor, and one could scarcely see the lights of the house once they ascended the small cliff.

Her thighs ached after nearly two months of disuse as she stormed up the steep incline, narrowly avoiding the sharp, twisting branches of the ancient trees that had concaved over the beaten path, forming a tunnel of gnarled wood that forced her to duck her head to navigate.

Y/N’s chest tightened as she neared the end of the path, the steady beat of the Flame Pillar’s footsteps trailing closely behind her.

When she finally emerged from the thicket of branches, she felt as though she could breathe again.

The path had given way to a cliff-top clearing. Soft, emerald grass covered the earthen floor, peppered with various wildflowers in vibrant hues of periwinkle, white, and pink. Towards the center was a thick, ancient oak tree, with a trunk as wide as a small hut, Its leaves ruffled lazily in the slight summer breeze. Fat hotaru floated idly above the grass while the crickets hummed.

The clearing extended to a point before dropping into a rocky cliff. Had it been a night of a new moon, Y/N would never risk coming out here for fear of stumbling too close to the cliff’s edge. But that night, the moon was full and its silver light was so bright that Y/N could see all the way to the opposite of the clearing, down to the summer irises swaying in the warm night air.

It was a pity that instead of feeling the warm serenity she normally had when she came out to her little hideaway, she felt nothing but boiling anger and a growing headache.

“You need to go back inside,” Rengoku said from behind her. Y/N ground her teeth, turning sharply on her heel to face him.

“Why do you care — I thought you only did that when I’m unconscious.” She bit back, and it felt good to see him be the one who flinched for once. “Or maybe it’s when you think I’m dying?”

She laughed, derisively. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve long since forgotten the rules of your game. You change them so often, you see.”

“Go back to the Butterfly Mansion, Y/L/N. You shouldn’t be out here. Not in your current state.” He said, voice as hard and unforgiving as stone.

“I’ve told you already that you are not in a position to order me around!” Y/N snapped, her words and her eyes chips of ice as she glared at him.

He was so infuriating — he had told her, in so many ways, that she meant nothing to him, and yet here he was, glowering at her as though her very existence incensed him.

“You’ve been nothing but unkind to me since I awoke, and you’ve given me no explanation!” She took a step towards him.

“Stop,” the Flame Pillar bit out, barely concealing the way he trembled with rage. “Do not take another step. Turn around and go back inside.”

If Y/N had looked pissed before, she looked downright furious now.

“Why did you come to see me while I was unconscious?” Y/N demanded, shaking. “You came every day, yet the second I wake up, you stop?”

His refusal to answer her, to even look at her, only made her seethe.

“You’re a coward, Rengoku.”

Rengoku’s teeth gnashed together, his fists balling tightly by his sides as he drew upon every ounce last shred of sanity, of restraint, left within him.

“Go. In. Side.” He ground out dangerously, his voice dropping into a growl on the last syllable.

But the Ice Pillar took another step towards him, her eyes blazing with a fire that could outburn his own.

“No.”

Rengoku’s jaw flexed. “Y/L/N-“

“I said no, Rengoku.” She was now within arm’s reach of the rigid Flame Pillar.

His eyes met hers, cold and hard, but she did not balk. She went in for the kill. “You have no say over my choices when my life is meaningless to you.”

Y/N watched the blow land, and land hard.

“Meaningless?” Rengoku looked at her and there was a new fire in his gaze, a hot, angry fire that threatened to burn the grassy overlook around them to cinders. “You believe I think your life is meaningless?”

This time, it was Rengoku who advanced towards her, bringing her within an arm’s length, and forcing her to tilt her head up to hold his raging stare.

“Do you have any idea — any at all — what it was like to see you, half dead in Uzui’s arms?” Rengoku’s voice dark, and harsh as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Or what it was like to have to carry you to Kocho, not knowing whether your heart would give out before I could get you there?”

Y/N refused to cower beneath the intensity of his gaze, her chin lifting defiantly. “Do I know what it was like?” She hissed; hackles raised.

“Thank you Rengoku, truly — thank you.” Y/N laughed, but it was devoid of any humor. “I am so glad that you’ve finally given me something to work with — so those are your rules, are they?”  She was toe to toe with the Flame Hashira, glowering down at her.

“Well since we’re keeping score, Rengoku, do you know what it was like to see you broken and bleeding out on Kocho’s table after the incident on the train?”

“That’s not the same thing,” Rengoku shot back bitterly.

“How the fuck is it not-?”

“Because it wasn’t your mission to take!” Rengoku finally broke, his voice rising to a shout. He could not stop himself as his hands shot out and gripped Y/N’s shoulders, shaking her lightly in his torment.

“You have no idea how it felt to know that you had died — no matter how briefly — because you went on a mission in my place!”

“To know that — that you could still die because I had been too weak on that fucking train. Your death would have been my fault, Y/N!”

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

(Kyojuro’s POV)

And there it was: the truth that he had tried so hard to suppress, laid flat out in the open.

Everything that had happened to Y/N, the whole entire mess — had been entirely his fault.

His fault because he had been too weak to finish off Upper Moon Three, too weak to do anything but let the demon’s punch a hole through his chest like it was nothing.

Y/L/N and Uzui had saved themselves in the end; they’d completed their mission, defeating not just one, but two upper ranks. They hadn’t succumbed to their injuries until after they’d fulfilled their duties.

But him? He’d only been saved by the grace of the sun and the tireless efforts of the Kakushi.

He’d nearly lost his life and he had nothing to show for it. Rather than do anything to further the Corp’s ultimate goals, he’d only set them back, and nearly cost them something priceless in return — their Ice Pillar.

The woman he loved.

He had no right to love her, of course — not when his reprehensible weakness had forced her to be offered up to two upper moon demons on a silver platter.

She’d been there, the morning he awoke from his three-week-long coma. She’d been right by his bedside, a sob choking from her throat as she’d called for Kocho to come quick!

At first, he’d been confused, because he hadn’t understood why she was crying. He’d tried to reach for her, to wipe the tears spilling down her cheeks when the pain had slammed into him, causing him to seize, arm suspended in mid-air.

Never before had he not been in control of his body; it had sent him into a panic.

“No, Kyojuro, please don’t move!” Y/N had cried, calling him, for the first time, by his given name. a warm hand wrapping around the one he’d stretched out towards her, lowering it gently down to the bed. “Your injuries are too grave!”

He didn’t remember much after that, only what Kocho had filled him in on later — namely, that he’d begun to panic, his breathing flaring out of control as he’d tried to fight off Y/L/N, a Kakushi, and the Insect Pillar.

His recovery had been long and slow. His wounds from the Upper Three demon had resulted in significant muscle damage that had required weeks of intensive care and training in order to build it back up again.

Those long days spent at the Butterfly Mansion had given him time to stew; to rage against himself. He’d been frustrated, so unbelievably frustrated over his inability to swing his own sword for more than five minutes that he almost considered giving in and retiring.

And then Uzui arrived, and he’d mentioned an upcoming mission to the Entertainment District, that they had discussed prior to Kyojuro leaving for the damned train, and the Sound Pillar revealed that his intel suggested the possible presence of an Upper Rank.

Kyojuro had promised to accompany him, and then he’d woken up in Kocho’s hospital, and that mission had been taken off the table and given to her.

The panic he had felt had been indescribable; he had narrowly survived an encounter with an Upper Rank, but then he was forced to watch the woman he loved walk straight into the wolf's den, and he had been incapable of convincing her to stay behind.

While she had been gone, he had railed against and prayed to and cursed at the gods, begging them to bring her home, to let her come back to him alive and whole.

Instead, they’d sent her back as a near-corpse and had laughed at his pitiful attempts to save her.

And then, she had straddled that narrow divide between life and death for nearly two months, and he had been as helpless as a cat chasing a string — his desire forever in sight yet somehow always just beyond his reach.

After his brush with death, he’d made a commitment to himself not to think of his battle with the Upper Three demon, to not waste his skill and energy on the past, but rather focus his fury on ensuring that when they did meet again, he would emerge victorious. He’d certainly not given any thought to the demon’s slime-tongued words.

He’d been disgusted when the demon had propositioned turning him into its like — and outright offended that those creatures could ever compare to the beautiful transience of humanity.

But then he’d cradled Y/N, broken and dying in his arms, and for the first time, Kyojuro had understood the appeal of the Upper Three’s offer.

Because he would rather have lived in a world in which Y/N had been turned into his enemy than in one in which she did not exist at all.

The very thought had shaken him to his core; because it meant he was not fully dedicated to their cause. He had no right to call himself a Hashira; nor did he have any right to claim to love Y/L/N. Not when he’d so easily damn her out of his own selfishness. So he had run.

A coward, after all.

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

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N was panting, her fury rippling off her in near-tangible waves.

“So, this whole thing,” she seethed, her voice shaking. “Your whole fucking attitude — has been because you’ve had your head so far up your ass, that you thought my injuries were your fault?”

It was unbelievable. It was ridiculous. And yet it was so Rengoku that it made her ears ring, made her see red as she tried to keep herself from imploding.

Rengoku said nothing, but she could see the way his eyes shuttered closed, his walls flying back up as he remained intent on keeping her out. He turned and began walking back towards the path back to the Estates.

“I was right — you ARE a coward!” She shrieked after him.

He froze. She stood there, heaving, daring him to turn around, to face her.

“Do not call me a coward again,” he said quietly, his back still to her, but his shoulders tensed, his fists balling once more at his sides.

Y/N smiled ruefully. “Then exactly what would you call what you’re doing now?.” Her lip curled into a sneer. “Run away, Rengoku. It’s what you do best.”

A flash of orange and white clouded her vision as Rengoku turned on his heel and closed the distance between them before she could draw another breath.

Y/N did not have time to react before his hands gripped either side of her jaw as he slammed his mouth down against hers, furious and heated.

It was not gentle; it was an angry clash of lips and teeth, but it also stoked a fire so hot in Y/N’s belly that she did not care, and she fully gave herself over to the bruising press of his lips against hers. She gladly opened up to him so that his tongue could slide into her mouth as one of his hands snaked behind her head to press her harder to him, demanding that she let him take and take until he was sated.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. They broke apart with a gasp, leaping back from one another as though burned. Their chests heaved as they stared at one another.

There was a line drawn in the sand between them. If either of them crossed it, there would be no going back.

He was a coward, but she wasn’t. And she’d grown tired of this tedious dance of theirs.

Yet it surprised her all the same that he reached for her at the same time she moved for him, the two of them colliding like magnets as their mouths clashed together once more.

Rengoku kissed her like he was drowning, and she was his lifeline.

Y/N threw her arms around his neck and tugged him down closer to her, determined to take from him as much as he wanted to take from her.

The pair of them stumbled back against the ancient oak tree that sat back from the grassy cliff, Y/N caged against its bark by the Flame Pillar.

His hands gripped fistfuls of her haori as though he couldn’t decide whether to pull her closer or tug her away. His lips devoured each breathy moan he pulled from her as one hand tangled in her hair and pulled, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

She ran her hands through the fiery strands of his hair, gripping and tugging it as he explored her mouth was his demanding tongue. Y/N, emboldened by the way his fingers dug into her haori, let her hands roam from his hair and to his neck, and then to the rocky planes of his broad chest before settling on his hips as she tugged him flush against her. 

His control was slipping, and fast. “Y/L/N, I can’t- I won’t be able to hold back.” Rengoku moaned into her mouth, his hands scrunching the fabric of her haori, his fingers desperately seeking to hold her closer to him. “Tell me to stop, Y/L/N.”

Y/N’s hands only buried deeper into his hair, tugging him harder against her as she slid her tongue into his waiting mouth.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered against his mouth between breaks for oxygen. “Never stop, Rengoku.”

Y/N pulled back from him, just enough to unlatch his hands from where they were buried in the back of her haori, and moved them inside its folds, right on her bare waist.

The burning weight of his hands felt exquisite.

Rengoku shuddered as he felt the smooth, soft dips of Y/N’s waist, his fingers digging into her flesh as he sought to touch more of her, his hands running across every inch that was not covered by her bindings or those glorious undershorts.

Lips still moving furiously against hers, Rengoku bent slightly to run his hands down the silken expanse of her thighs, gripping under her knees before hoisting her up to carry her away from the tree and lay her down in the velvety grass below.

Y/N felt as though she were on fire. The ache between her legs was almost maddening, and she was desperate to have the Flame Pillar sheathe himself inside her, to make her forget even her own name.

If she could not have his love, she could at least have this.

Her hands dragged down Rengoku’s front, coming to a rest at his belt before she began fumbling with the clasp. Y/N had just managed to undo it when Rengoku’s hands — large, warm, and much stronger than her own, wrapped around her wrists, stilling her.

“Not yet, you impatient woman,” he smirked against her mouth. He moved one wrist to join the other in his left hand before bringing her arms up over her head, pinning her to the ground.

Y/N whimpered and rolled her hips against his, impatient and demanding, wanting desperately to feel some relief as her core clenched wildly around nothing.

Rengoku chuckled darkly, the rich timbre of his voice causing her blood to nearly boil with her want, as he made his way down her body with his lips.

He first came to her chest bindings, growling in impatience as he nipped at one breast over the tightly wound fabric.

His fingers brushed against her sternum as he ripped her bindings straight down the middle, Y/N shuddering as the warm summer night’s air caressed her sensitive skin, her nipples pebbling at the change in temperature.

She waited for him to lavish her soft mounds, but the Flame Pillar paused, eyes narrowed on the valley between her breasts, right on the pale, lilac mark where he’d plunged Shinobu’s antidote into her heart.

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. He’d reacted poorly to the ribboned scar on her lower belly already, and now her once chance to finally have Rengoku in the way she’d so desperately longed to have him was about to be ruined.

But instead of pulling away from her in disgust, he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against it the healed wound.

“I hadn’t realized I wounded you,” he murmured softly, reverently as he kissed it again. Y/N watched in bewilderment as he pressed his ear against her chest, letting his head rest there for a moment.

Listening to her heart hammer against her sternum.

“The sweetest music,” he whispered, pulling away to look at her not with lust but with unbounded tenderness.

Don’t look at me like that, she silently begged, don’t give me hope.

But as quickly as the moment had come, it passed and the esurient flame in Rengoku’s eyes flickered back to life. His lips continued down her abdomen, hot and needy until he reached the source of her near-fatal injury.

His mouth paused at the scar left by Upper Moon Six, the one he’d so callously glared at not even an hour before. This time, he ran his tongue along it, from the top to its base near her hipbone, pressing a fierce kiss against its end before continuing his descent.

“I will either have to thank my old Tsugoku the next time I see her,” Rengoku whispered darkly as he pulled at the soft waistband of Y/N’s undershorts with his teeth. “Or I shall have to burn her sewing room to cinders.” Rengoku’s fingers slid beneath the short hem of her bottoms, pulling them down inch by inch to expose her sensitive flesh.

Rengoku groaned when he saw Y/N was not wearing anything else beneath her scandalous bottoms. “Definitely burning.” His hands, so large and warm ran up the outer curve of her thighs, marveling at the silky smoothness of her skin. “Because you are far too tempting when wearing them.”

The Flame Pillar looked wild as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the lower indent between Y/N’s hipbones as he kissed his way down to where she ached the most.

He ducked around the center of her desire in favor of sucking softly on her inner thigh. Y/N’s chest heaved as her hands flailed next to her, desperately seeking purchase, until the Flame Hashira caught them in his hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on her palms as their fingers interlaced.

“Rengoku - just fuck me already,” Y/N groaned as the Flame Pillar’s face settled between her thighs, his hot breath against her bare cunt causing her legs to attempt to clench shut.

“Well now, that won’t do,” Rengoku tutted, his hands withdrawing from hers as he wound his arms underneath both of her thighs, spreading them as wide as he could to expose her core to his heady gaze.

Rengoku leaned forward and lightly traced up her damp slit with the tip of his tongue. His amber irises which had been locked on hers, rolled back into his head as he groaned at her taste.

“I’m going to take my time with you. I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time, Y/N.” He warned, hands tightening around her thighs as he pressed a light kiss against her slit, teasing her.

In the back of her mind, Y/N registered that he’d used her first name. But the graze of his lips against her most sensitive flesh had her crying out his name, high-pitched and breathy, and she watched helplessly as the sound made Rengoku’s eyes turn black.

In an instant, he was upon her, and he was ravenous.

His mouth latched to her center as though she was an oasis in the middle of a blazing desert, and he was a man dying of thirst.

The way Rengoku’s teeth grazed her sensitive nub made her abdomen clench, and she fought against his ironclad grip on her thighs as they spasmed, desperate to clench around his head.

Y/N moaned, head thrown back into the soft summer grass as she felt herself grow wetter and wetter beneath the Flame Pillar, her hands desperately tugging and pinching at her breasts in an effort to feel more pleasure.

Y/N felt as though she was hurtling towards a cliff that she could not stop herself from tumbling over as Rengoku increased the intensity of his ministrations against her needy cunt.

“You taste,” he ground out through harsh drags of his tongue up her drenched folds, “like fucking paradise.”

His mouth latched around her clit, giving it a sharp suck that had Y/N seeing stars. She barely had time to recover, to acknowledge that she was at her tipping point when Rengoku thrust his tongue into her core and began to fuck her.

Y/N came apart the moment she felt his tongue enter her, a rush of her juices spilling over his relentless maw, but he held her hips down and continued his feast. His teeth grazed her clit over and over while his tongue pumped steadily in and out of her, and Y/N was close to sobbing at the overstimulation.

The Flame Pillar kept his eyes locked on hers the entire time, the amber orbs glowing almost ominously in the indigo night.

“I- fuck.” Y/N breathed, grinding unrestrainedly against the blonde’s greedy mouth. “Rengoku!”

The Ice Pillar tried to sit up, tried to grab her comrade’s hair to tell him that she couldn’t take it anymore, that she needed him, but Rengoku was faster. Unfurling a steely arm from where it had been locked around her thigh to hold her open to him, he reached up her torso, his large hand splaying across her upper abdomen to restrain her.

“Sit down,” he growled between thrusts of his tongue into her aching cunt, nipping harshly at her inner thigh. “I am not finished.”

Y/N whimpered beneath the weight of his hand holding her down against the earth and the nearly painful ecstasy that Rengoku bestowed upon her between her legs.

Whether it was in praise for her obedience or a further act of torture, Rengoku then pressed his face flush against her core and rocked it harshly from side to side, his nose and the burgeoning stubble along his jaw scraping against her overstimulated and sensitive flesh.

Y/N slapped her hand against her mouth to stifle the howl that tore from her throat. Rengoku repeated the movement; it felt wonderful. It felt obscene. It made Y/N’s thighs contract around his head as her stomach dipped inward and a gush of her juices spilled out of her, more powerful than before, dampening the collar of the Flame Pillar’s haori.

For a breath, Y/N thought she would die of embarrassment until she felt Rengoku’s mouth vibrate against her from his groan of satisfaction. His tongue thrust once, twice more into her aching core before he withdrew completely, satisfaction tugging at the corners of his smirking lips.

But Rengoku looked nowhere near sated as he gazed down hungrily at her, wantonly spread out against the grass, the shredded pieces of her training attire strewn about, save for her haori.

“I will give you one last chance to end this now,” Rengoku whispered, kneeling above her but no longer touching her. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will walk away, and no one will know.”

Though her body already ached from the intensity of Rengoku’s mouth upon her, she could not fathom stopping here, not when she’d barely begun to taste him herself. The thought of rolling aside to pull on the tattered remains of her clothing, to return to her estate and awake tomorrow as though he had not melted every icy reservation she’d held with his touch, was enough to make her want to cry.

Though her limbs felt boneless, she summoned all her strength to reach toward the Flame Hashira, to beckon him to return to her.

“I want you, Rengoku,” Y/N said, her voice a breathy whisper as tears clung to her eyelashes. “Please.”

Rengoku’s pupils exploded, his eyes darkening as he covered her nude body with his own. Y/N nearly sobbed in relief as his lips roughly caught hers, one hand coming up to cradle her face while the other snaked beneath her head, tilting it to the side so he could deepen his claim over her mouth.

Y/N’s hands rose, shakily, to pull at the buttons of his uniform top, desperate to feel his skin burn against hers.

“On one condition,” Rengoku said, moving his lips from hers to press against her ear, Y/N shivering. “You must call me by my name,”

“Rengoku?” Y/N questioned her mind too fogged by her own desire.

He nipped lightly under her jaw before pulling his face back from hers, smirking slightly at the way she whined when avoided her attempt to kiss him again.

“My true name.”

With clarity, Y/N realized what he desired. But he had teased her far too much already, and she yearned to return the favor.

So she looked up at him through her eyelashes, teeth sinking into her lower lip in such a way that made the Flame Hashira’s eyes darken.

“Please, please, Kyojuro,” she whispered, lancing a hand up his bicep. “Take me.”

The growl that clawed its way out of the heaving chest of the Flame Pillar made Y//N’s thighs clamp together. Rengoku — Kyojuro — pounced on her, and Y/N summoned all her residual strength to rip his uniform shirt open.

Kyojuro moaned into her neck as his shirt gave way and Y/N’s hands came to rest against his bare skin, her nails raking down his taut pectorals to the rigid planes of his chiseled abdomen.

Her lips began descending the path carved by her nails when she drew short at the dark, thick starburst-shaped scar that covered his shoulder and left pectoral. Kyojuro’s breath seized as she pressed her lips ever so softly against it, turning so she could look up at him from beneath her lashes.

Kyojuro was panting as she nuzzled against his scar, kissing it once more before gently gliding her hand over his heart and resting it there, letting herself savor the strong, sturdy beat from within his chest.

Just as he did before, she resumed her trail down his body, her lips coming to the edge of his pants when his hands wound themselves in her hair, every nerve in his body alight as she licked her way up the small happy trail that stopped just below his belly button.

As much as he wanted to feel her mouth around him, Kyojuro had been driven to the brink of insanity by Y/N’s touch, and his resolve was quickly dwindling.

“Y/N — my flame — I can’t wait,” Kyojuro said by way of apology, as he covered her hands with his own to still them on his belt. He slipped his hands down to grip her wrists, bringing them together in one hand and moving her arms up over her head, pinning them against the grasp. With his free hand, Kyojuro loosened his belt and his pants, and shimmied them down, kicking them off behind him. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of his proud length as it bounced against his belly button.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She was no stranger to the male body, but this – she’d never had anyone compare to Kyojuro’s size or girth.

Kyojuro noticed her hesitation. “Is this – have you ever --?” Kyojuro breathed, hovering above her. It did not matter to him whether she had or had not, but he wanted to ensure that he did not hurt her.

Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s not my first time – but you are the first one to be so…well endowed.” Y/N flushed as Kyojuro laughed softly above her, and she felt his lips graze hers.

He pulled back slightly, reaching to grip the base of his aching cock tapping it against her soaked cunt in a warning and in permission.

Y/N seized beneath him at the spark of hot pleasure that was sent crackling up her spine as he rubbed his velvety head against the most sensitive part of her core. “Kyojuro,” she hissed through clenched teeth, rolling her hips impatiently towards him.

The mushroomed tip of his cock pushed into her entrance and Y/N felt herself go cross-eyed. It was heaven; pure, unadulterated, blissful heaven.

He was insistent on easing his thick length into her, but the throbbing between Y/N’s legs had grown nearly unbearable. He still wasn’t close enough, not nearly as much as she needed him to be.

Boldly, Y/N locked her ankles against Kyojuro’s backside, and with all her might, hauled him into her in a single stroke.

“Fuck!” he yelled, unable to restrain his volume as Y/N forced him to become fully seated within her. Her core was impossibly tight and so fucking warm and wet that it had been a true exercise of self-restraint not to spill himself inside her right then.

Y/N nearly screamed in pleasured relief at the way her body burned and stretched around Kyojuro’s considerable length, his base pressed flush against her sensitive clit as she began to grind furiously against him, desperate to relieve the friction that made her ache.

Kyojuro was still panting from the way Y/N had slammed him into her, nearly trembling with restraint as he willed himself not to finish before they’d truly begun.

Once certain that he would not climax like some green boy, he laughed quietly under his breath. The dark sound caused Y/N’s eyes to fly open, and her stomach flipped at the wicked glint in his eyes as he stared at her like a hunter stalking its prey.

Kyojuro leaned forward and took one of her breasts, harshly into his mouth, grazing his teeth over her nipple hard enough to make Y/N cry out in slight pain before he lapped at it soothingly with his tongue.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” He murmured between his ministrations, leaving fresh marks all over aching mounds.

Y/N could hardly make a sound as Kyojuro withdrew almost completely from her heat before slamming into her once, the Ice Pillar nearly choking on the breath that flew from her chest with his force.

Desperately — pathetically — Y/N nodded, whimpering.

“If that’s how you want it,” Kyojuro growled against her breast, giving her nipple one harsh nip with his teeth before pulling himself off her.

He sat on his knees, back straight as he began to pound relentlessly into her, his hands gripping her backside and holding her flush against his strong thighs. Y/N’s head remained thrown back against the earth, her fingers tearing at the soft grass beneath her.

Rengoku’s movements were just like those he wielded in battle — powerful; all-consuming; relentless; and unforgiving.

Y/N had never considered herself to be a particularly vocal person when engaged in carnal activities, but the way that Rengoku’s cock hammered into her spasming core over and over had reduced her to a moaning and whimpering mess. The only intelligible thing that fell from her lips was his name — Kyojuro.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” Kyojuro grunted out between forceful snaps of his hips against hers, the night air alive with the lewd squelching of Y/N’s dripping cunt as he pistoned into her.

Y/N looked to see the Flame Pillar’s eyes locked on her breasts as they bounced with the force of his thrusts. Between the moans and whimpers he pulled from her with every punishing thrust of his hips against hers, she lightly dragged her fingers from their place in the grass to her hipbone, and then up to trace teasingly around her peaked breast.

Kyojuro’s eyes followed every move, his thrusts hardening as she pinched her nipple and let out a breathy little scream, her walls pulsing around his aching length.

“Fuck,” Kyojuro grit, feeling himself twitch within her as he watched Y/N play with herself, spurring him to go faster, deeper within her.

He moved his hand under one of her knees and lifted her leg over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge deeper into her silken heat, and he teasingly drew his fingers up and down her outer thigh.

At that moment, as Kyojuro was poised against the silhouette of the moon, his amber eyes glowing as he watched where he appeared and disappeared inside her, the realization hit Y/N like a storm, and it knocked her entirely off her axis.

She was in love with Kyojuro.

Who else could make her feel so sacred and yet so angry? Who else had been capable of slipping past every wall she’d built within herself, capable of getting her to let her guard down before consuming her so furiously she had not realized she’d ever been in danger?

He was fire, she was ice. One of them had to give to the other. She’d just always thought it would be him giving into her.

Yet there, beneath the moonlight, her climax rising above her like a tidal wave, Y/N realized that she was powerless against the waves that rose to pull her under, to never again let her up for air.

Distantly, Y/N felt the Flame Pillar’s callused thumb find her clit and her climax slammed into her, and she succumbed to the endless sea called Kyojuro.

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

As Y/N broke apart around him, Kyojuro swore he’d never seen anything as beautiful in his entire life.

She shattered over him with the prettiest scream he’d ever heard, and he could barely make out the drawn-out syllables of his name as her hips jerked up against his while her inner walls threatened to squeeze the life from him.

Y/N finally collapsed back against the ground, her body limp from the exhaustion of her pleasure. Kyojuro then moved in chase of his own release, his hips pressed solidly against hers as he rutted his cock deep within her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands tightening around Y/N’s waist. The familiar electricity of impending release tingled at the base of Kyojuro’s spine, and his stomach began to clench as he began his ascent to his climax.  “Y/N — I am going to finish soon,” his head was thrown back, and his groans were loud enough to alert anyone nearby of exactly what was transpiring between the two Hashira. “Please — tell me where--”

“Inside,” Y/N gasped, her legs tightening around Kyojuro’s hips in a feeble attempt to keep him within her, to ensure that he wouldn’t yet leave her. “Please, Kyojuro, stay.”

Kyojuro was a rational man, and he knew of one major reason not to allow his seed to spill inside Y/N’s heavenly body. But all those rationalities flew out the window at the sound of her wanton and needy whimpers and the way her heat fluttered around him and Kyojuro did not think he could pull out of her if he wanted to.

Kyojuro’s thrusts became more and more frenzied and bruising, with the Flame Hashira hardly dragging his twitching length out of her as he neared his own climax.

“Hold onto me,” he panted, falling forward so that his chest was pressed flush against Y/N’s, one arm going to wrap around her waist while the other snaked over to where her arm lay in the grass, gripping her wrist to pin it up over her head as his fingers interlocked tightly with hers.

Y/N hiked her legs higher up his waist, crossing them at her shins so that he was buried deep within her. Her free arm looped under the one he had braced above her head to wrap around his back, her fingers digging into the rippling muscle and scarred skin that littered his shoulders.

“Make me yours, Kyojuro,” she whispered against his neck, squeezing his hips with her thighs.

Y/N felt his entire body tense at her words and Kyojuro’s moans turned into shouts as he gave one final, deep thrust within her before he exploded. His hand tightened fiercely around hers with the force of his climax,

The pleasure that surged up his spine had been white hot as he pushed himself as deeply as he could possibly go within Y/N’s vice-like core. Kyojuro was not a novice to pleasure, but he had never finished as hard or as much as he did buried within her.

Kyojuro canted his hips, prolonging his release as he continued to empty himself into her, coming down from his earth-shattering high. Y/N mewled against his throat, her lips brushing against his sensitive pulse point as her legs spasmed. once more around his hips.

He finally stilled within her, arms shaking as he braced himself above her, to keep from crushing the exhausted woman beneath him.

He lowered his head down to her level. “Are you all right, my flame?” He panted, pressing a kiss between her brows before he rested his forehead heavily against hers.

She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and nodded shakily.

He no longer could keep himself from collapsing against Y/N, but as he fell forward, he gripped her and rolled, pulling her to his chest with his leaking cock still nestled deeply between her legs.  

“I don’t want to push you away,” Kyojuro murmured softly after a moment, his chest finally easing as his breathing slowed.

Y/N made a show of looking down to where they were still joined, the Flame Pillar’s pearly seed slowly leaking out of her and onto the grass below them. “I think I’m about as close to you as physically possible, Rengoku.”

Kyojuro rolled his eyes and ground his hips slightly into her, causing Y/N to squeak against him.

“Quiet, woman, I’m trying to apologize to you.” He trailed his fingers up and down her spine as she nestled back against his chest, chin perched on his pectoral as she waited for him to continue.

“I was just so angry. After the incident on the train, when I woke up in Kocho’s hospital — I was furious. With myself.” Amber eyes met hers and softened to pools of melted honey. “It was never you I was angry with.”

Y/N held his gaze evenly, her voice firm. “But you took it out on me all the same.” It wasn’t an angry accusation — it was the truth; ugly and sharp. But it was real, and so was the tentative, knowing hope in her eyes.

“Yes,” Kyojuro breathed. “Yes, I did. And I am so sorry for it, Y/N.” His hand reached up to gently cup the side of her face, thumb smoothing over the soft expanse of her cheek. “May I ask for your forgiveness?”

Y/N leaned her head into his warm palm, and smiled, softly.

“You may ask, Kyojuro.”

He brushed his thumb along her lower lip. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

Y/N threw a leg out over his other hip, straddling him beneath her, though moving so fluidly that they remained connected at their base.

She rolled her hips against his, and he felt himself begin to harden within her once more. Kyojuro moaned softly, head falling back against the earth as he brought his hands up to steady her, fingers digging gently into her hips as she repeated the movement, again and again, until he’d fully stiffened within her.

“Yes Kyojuro,” she sighed, hands coming to brace themselves against his abdomen as she began to ride him. “I forgive you.”

Kyojuro groaned, his head thrown back as he began to gently grind up into her, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as she lightly raked her nails over his pectorals and the hard ridges of his abdomen.

He wanted so very badly to lose himself within his pleasure, to allow Y/N to consume him whole and never let him go again, but his atonement was not complete.

Because Y/N had given him every opportunity to confess to her before, and he had been careless with them; she would not open that door herself again.

So he would.

“And may I give you my heart, Y/N?” He asked, his hands gliding sensually up from her hips to brace themselves on either side of her sensitive waist, squeezing her firmly.

Her pace had stuttered slightly once his words registered, eyes widening as she looked down at him, and Kyojuro hated that he was the reason the shadow of doubt lingered in her eyes.

“Is it truly mine?” She breathed, resuming the intoxicating rise and fall and push and grind of her hips, breasts beginning to bounce as she picked up her pace.

Kyojuro’s mouth watered, but he restrained himself, holding her gaze. “It was only ever yours, Y/N.”

Y/N cried out then, her hips beginning to drop and roll into his with urgency. By the way her damp heat began to pulse and constrict around him, Kyojuro knew that she was barreling towards her release once more.

One hand left its searing position at her waist to drift down to where they were connected, his rough thumb toying with the sensitive nub that had her heavenly cunt squeezing him for dear life.

“My beautiful flame,” he moaned, “how lucky I am to have such a darling god be the keeper of my heart.”

Kyojuro rolled into her from below again, the hand still braced on her waist guiding himself to push deeper into her, as his thumb began to press harder into the apex of her thighs.

“Sweet tempest, please,” Kyojuro panted, the relentless squeeze of Y/N’s walls around his aching length beginning to drive him to the point of madness. “Please, may I have your love?”

Y/N’s moans were piercing as she half-sobbed above him, head thrown back into the night sky, the hoary glow of the moon making her look like a celestial deity given human form as she writhed above him.

“Yes!” Y/N cried, “Yes Kyojuro, you have always had my love!”

The moment the words fell from her lips, Kyojuro jolted upright, coming into a sitting position as Y/N’s legs instantly wrapped around him. He wound one arm around her waist to bounce her in his lap, the other moving to circle his fingers around her nub.

Kyojuro nuzzled her nose with his own, his lips mere centimeters from hers as he pressed his forehead against her and held her eyes. “Then come for me, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath tickling her lips as he nuzzled her again. “Come for me, my love.”

Y/N seized around him like a vice, her head falling back as she unleashed a euphoric cry.

The force of her climax had caused her to arch backward in Kyojuro’s lap, thrusting her breasts up and forward, and Kyojuro bent to suck one into his greedy mouth, his own release imminent. The warm sticky rush of her pleasure combined with the way her velvety, molten walls constricted around him had Kyojuro seeing stars as his seed shot into her, hot and fast, his strangled groan muffled only by the soft plush of Y/N’s breast as he filled her to her brim for the second time that night.

For a long moment, neither Pillar said anything as they came down from their mutual highs, Y/N’s head pressed against Kyojuro’s shoulder while the Flame Pillar kept his arms firmly around her waist, his fingers trailing up and down her spine.

“Y/N, are you all right?” He murmured into her ear, still buried deep within her heat.

Y/N nodded sleepily against his skin, savoring how full and complete she felt perched in his lap.

“I love you, Kyojuro.” She said so softly that the Flame Pillar thought his heart might break. Kyojuro pulled away slightly to bring his fingers beneath her chin where she lay against his shoulder. Gently, he tilted her face towards his and captured her lips with his own.  

“My darling flame,” He murmured against her lips as they broke apart, his eyes sweeping over her face, committing every detail of her beauty to memory. “Thank you.”

Y/N gave him a lazy smile. “I cannot be your flame, Kyojuro,” she teased, “Not when I am made of ice.”

Kyojuro flipped her back beneath him and danced his lips teasingly across the bridge of her nose. “Don’t you know, my beautiful foil, that ice can burn just as well as flame?” He pressed a feather-light kiss against her lips. “And I have been consumed by your silvery fire since I first laid eyes on you at Final Selection.”

Y/N looked up at him in wonder, her hand coming to rest against his face as she adoringly caressed his cheek.

“I love you, Y/N. I am so sorry it took me until now to say it.”

-------------------------------------------------—

Epilogue

Y/N made back it into her room, sight unseen, just as dawn had crept over the horizon.

Feet bare, she padded softly over to her waiting bed, shrugging out of Kyojuro’s uniform shirt and falling into her blankets, not caring at the growing discomfort she felt as the Flame Pillar’s seed dried in her undershorts.

She just wanted to sleep.

Y/N and Kyojuro had come together twice more before the pair realized that morning was imminent, and they needed to return to their respective dwellings before anyone noticed they were gone.

Y/N had lamented that Kyojuro had shredded her chest bindings beyond salvation and had worried she’d be forced to sneak back into the Butterfly Mansion with nothing but her haori to cover her bare chest when Kyojuro slid his uniform shirt over her shoulders.

“No one will think twice if they see me bare,” he’d said by way of explanation, gaze dropping momentarily to appreciate the marks he had left dotted across her breasts before rising back to her face. “I would like to keep you hidden, however.”

Kyojuro then fastened each button one by one, beginning from the bottom as he kissed his way up Y/N’s torso until his lips found the sensitive spot beneath her jaw, which he’d nipped.

It had taken everything in her not to throw him down and have him for the fifth time.

Kyojuro had walked with her as far as the edge of the path back to Shinobu’s before parting her with a sweet kiss and a promise to return to her later in the morning. He had also mentioned, somewhat mischievously, that he would be inquiring into when Y/N could expect to be discharged from the Butterfly Mansion and return to her own Estate.

Her empty, person-free estate.

Y/N collapsed into her bed, ready to sleep for a precious few hours before her training would begin anew.

“So, do you mind sharing where you’ve been all night?” A dangerously sweet voice chirped from over by the door.

Y/N shot up out of her bed, stomach falling out of her ass, as she faced the smiling, enraged Insect Pillar seated primly atop her wooden stool opposite of her.

“I was quite worried, you know,” Shinobu tutted, the honey of her smile poisoned by the violence in her eyes.

Y/N had never been one to be at a loss for words, a quick comment, or a snappy retort always on hand when the situation called for it.

But to her horror, her mind had gone dreadfully blank, and her tongue was swollen stupid in her mouth.

Shinobu smiled like she knew, eyes slowly looking her over, and Y/N was left with the uncomfortable feeling that her friend could see every way she’d allowed Kyojuro to utterly defile her.

“Will you be in need of a contraceptive?” Shinobu asked lightly, and Y/N felt like she would drop dead right then and there.

“…Yes, please.” She managed to squeak, and the Insect Pillar turned to leave.

“I will bring it with your breakfast.” Her hand closed around the doorknob but stilled.

“And Y/N?”

The Ice Pillar whimpered as her friend turned to look back at her, all smiles and throbbing forehead veins.

“If you ever keep the younger girls awake from the sounds of your activities with the Flame Pillar again, I will poison you both.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

[eviltiddyproductions]

Vincenzo : Episode 1

Oh my god STOP this title card is saurrrrr good

It is giving me the nostalgia of old crime thrillers which used to have these quiet , animated and wonderful title cards.

his hair are styled to the T my god, not a strand displaced. my dumbass wants to ruffle it a little.

and just like that an entire building is down 🫨

all of the shots up until now have been so pleasing to me. the cinematography is so unserious hot!? mind you, I'm four minutes in. 💀

the random ass vertical shot just as i said this

i thought he was the mafia boss? he's a lawyer

the shots are so beautiful HELP

Ohhhh, his boss is dead.

lmao the man just casually eating pasta. that's an Italian baby 🇮🇹

this man is so busy chowing down on that pasta that he cannot see the threat sitting in front of his table

did Netflix change its subtitles again (since i saw this happen with alchemy of souls i have never recovered my trust in them) like i can read! let them be

throw the pasta in this racist's face vince!!!

[foreboding music]

'regret is the most painful thing one can experience in life' bars! saying this before you kill someone and you're giving them a chance is funny but still bars

all of that blatant racism and heat for Vincenzo but can't handle 3 sentences said in Korean

i knew they were going to burn everything as soon as I saw the damn plane 😭

the driver liked that 😂

the score mixed with the silence is actually so good

not a second has been wasted as of it. it's been so pleasing on the eyes

yes!!! snap and kill that cigarette #real #lungsareourfriends

got out of that bathroom so elegantly to kill everybody 😭😭😭

Adrenaline playing let me just

no way they cut to a scene this cute WHO IS SHE I LOVE HER

lmaooo where is this discussion going, is she trying to strongarm him? gotta be the most adorable way I've ever seen

LMFAOOOO she is deadass singing Für Elise while making him take out the cake topper 😂

a string of money coming out she is so unserious 💀✋

wait I know this man

it's candy in my ear !!! cutie !!!

I LOVE HER

Do Bong Soon's dad and Itaewon class villain! Him being here... will this be a hit or a miss 😟

he's mad because she's working for the enemy, it's giving Itaewon Class

I still find it fun as of yet though

lmao is this emotional blackmail. ah we both clocked it 😂

cutieeee

i just watched xo kitty before this so this man getting a free taxi is so funny when my girl was running for her life in Korea when she got out of the airport

lmaooo not this limo man being a kidnapper

he's got really pretty eyelashes

[sinister laugh continues] 💀

honestly kidnappers accidentally kidnapping someone from the mafia is a storyline i can always get behind. you deserve each other!

the old man from alchemy of souls!

[ominous music playing]

superiors being lax after getting an important tip from a junior once again before impending doom

the way i already know what's going to happen to taecyeon like let me not get attached

His hair are so poofy and cute let me run a hand through them 😭

my man who burned like 7000 acres and contributed to 100% of climate change just got kicked in the face and knocked out cold by two casual robbers 😭

a true homecoming

i did not expect this show to be funny

speaking in lower tones with pauses so we know for sure that they're the bad guys doing a business deal

flower of evil detective?!! they really picked one person from each of the 5 kdramas I've watched 💀

he's having the worst day one can have in a new country 😂

the dramatic ass Italian music playing

the piano player 😂 oh wow the tenants of this building are something

lmaooo Vince having the weirdest day in Korea after having an intense I’m the shit, fear me moment in Italy is sending meeee

what is going on in this building

awoop monk jump scare

how does he look THAT good in a blue shirt

lmaooo the chef

everytime water goes out in foreign serials the south asian in me wants to beg people to just keep one bucket in their bathrooms just in case!

do not burn yourself king

the shower doing its own concert with breakdance slay

freezing water is always better than getting burnt by hot water 😭

he gets my pigeon hate omg they’re always outside your window !!!! doing the most 😡

leave sir 🐦 omg don’t use your phone !!

is that his mom? free us from the dumbass narrative of mom leaving child for adoption as heartless. y’all hate women and don’t get it at all

she is correct! this is literally not relevant and y’all are just trying to rile hate for her here. he’s teary eyed. oh no she worked for an abuser ?!!! let her TALK

MOTHER I WILL AVENGE YOU

wait isn’t that lawyer our girl?

eugh annoying perverts. stop taking pictures of strangers challenge failed

get them aunty!

okay opera chef !!! lmaooo the dramatic music playing in this show gets me 💀

nawww he made the chef cry 😭

I'm bonding hard to every 3rd character on the screen like why is the conversation between lawyer dad and mom wrongly in jail making me soft

I know it's actors being actors but I'm so happy to see laywer dad ( Yoo Jae Myung) be soft again. I was ready to fight through the screen with him in Itaewon class.

I love the Mr. Cho actor so much. He truly has the funniest expressions. 😂

NOOOO Mr. Cho. Oh this is nasty

lmao is her dad emancipating from her

#saveMrCho omg

NO NO NO NO NO you cannot do this to me

I am suddenly terrified like I'm already low key devestated

beat his ass sister !!!

lmao the Italian ass entry 😭

help how has he not fallen to his death that's a measuring tape 😭

i need to take a self defense class at some point lol

slayyy

[actual-fucking-clown]

Take your time then.

Aizawa x gender neutral reader

Story under the cut :)

Unedited but like edited but still not properly edited :)

Hope you enjoy!!!

a/n: it’s been a hot min since I’ve written a fic. I think the last time i was 14 and it was shit and on wattpad. Ha. I hate myself. N e way, I was recently writing some shit for an au me and my friend thought up and in the back of my mind I was like, “you should start writing fics again bc this is kinda fun”, soo lo and behold I made a post asking if anyone would be interested, shared a little too much personal shit in it but whatever, and have now decided to write this mother fucker. (3/25/21)

a/n: not sure if anyone will care about this series of a/n’s but I’m just chronicling thoughts ig. rewriting rn bc my first draft was short and ass. Also I’m thinking about opening requests after this is posted, will go into detail in a diff post maybe. (3/28/21)

a/n: deleted everything, rewriting. I just want to make something that might be decent and if I can give that feeling, y’know those chills you get when you read something utterly gorgeous, but I’m bad at writing. sadge (3/28/21, like several hours later)

a/n: ugh (4/1/21)

a/n: ugh pt 2 electric boogaloo. I can’t seem to move forward with the writing. I realized something like this might happen bc to solve a problem feelings need to be discussed and I fucking hate doing that so you can see where I’m fucking up lmaooooo (4/2/21)

a/n: I read angst to fuel my writing brain. So, read some angst, finally writing agian. This first section is probs as long as the story itself LMFAO(4/5/21)

Started: (3/25/21) Finished: (4/5/21)

Warnings: uh angst, curse words, like a lot, (i saw someone else put this as a warning, do I actually need it?), avoiding problems instead of actually facing them, mentions of shit so-so parenting, mentions of not being able to live up to high expectations, y’know, the works

Synopsis: Aizawa takes in Eri without running it by you first and expects you to be okay with it. That’s funny. He was wrong.

Can I preface this with a thought? I’m going to anyway,

all the fics I read paint him as the sweetest partner and I’m sure he is but I think they miss out on how blunt he is and his whole “Mr. Rationality” thing. So as much as I adore him I think there are situations that he’d be a bit more colder towards, a bit more straightforward about. Maybe even like a bit insensitive about but maybe bc he doesn’t have the full picture or something. so I guess this is another warning but aizawa is a little insensitive in the beginning (but like not really but kinda. it’s complicated)

~

Rain pattered softly against the window. The smell of some old random Bath and Bodyworks candle you’d dug out from a box you’d never bothered to unpack smothered the room. Some Netflix show idly played on a low volume on your computer, you’d lost interest in watching tv awhile ago. You needed a break. After the eventful month you’d been having you really needed this. 

Now of course your whole year so far had been eventful. What with all the villain attacks on you and Shouta’s class and the kidnapping of one of your students, to just dealing with the more mundane problems with your students. No. You had no problem with that. The villains, although not easy, were something you were trained to handle. The smaller problems with your students weren’t arduous either, after all you weren’t too much older than them. 

When reflecting on your situation, from and outside perspective it could be seen as the straw the broke the camels back, which sure, makes sense. After all, you’re bound to be stressed out by everything else, so why would this seemingly insignificant thing weigh heavier than a villain attack? Well if that is the situation why does this single straw feel like it weighs a ton? This is not that. This is not culmination of the events of this year draining the life from you. This is something entirely different. A panic inducing life change that completely took you by surprise mixed with your inability to actually face your problems. 

You don’t blame them. You can’t. They’ve done nothing wrong. A child. A small, probably mentally scarred child is your problem. Well not her personally but the fear taking care of her instills in you. Despite working in the field that you do, you cannot for the life of you handle actual children. Sure you’re a little awkward with your class but at least they’re young adults and (vaguely) mature and independent to a certain extent. The fact that your long term boyfriend just came back one day, small child in tow and said “Hey I’ve gotta look after this one now” not verbatim obviously, for a lack of better words, fucked you up. He basically solo adopted a kid and, let’s be honest, he probably expected you to help out. But how could you? How could this man look at you and think “I want this person to help me raise an already fucked up child?” Ok sure, he doesn’t at first give off the “I’m totally father figure material” vibe but in the end he is extremely competent. You on the other hand, not so much.

You’d never been good with children. Tried your best to steer clear of them. Didn’t matter the place, didn’t matter who’s kid, you couldn’t handle them. You would just stand there, awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do and petrified that there was the possibility of making some mistake which would upset the child and then oh wow look, your head got chopped right of your shoulders. That’s hyperbole of course but it does sum up the insurmountable fear that overcomes you whenever you have to deal with a child. So considering the fact that your long term boyfriend had suddenly decided to adopt and not at least warn you, didn’t sit right with you.

So, the best and most obvious choice, was to avoid your problem. Avoid Shouta, avoid Eri. Avoid the mention of them and you, avoid it all. And honestly you’d done pretty well so far. You were able to have as little contact with them as possible considering the close proximity of your living quarters in the teacher’s dorms. After all they were legally supposed to give you two separate rooms but you never actually used yours, well until now. You were living it up honestly. Did you feel awful? Of course. He is your boyfriend after all and you were sure Eri doesn’t deserve your cold shoulder but this is probably for the best. What could you offer her? You weren’t sure that you were a good role model for her or anyone for that matter. What did you know about raising kids? it’s not like you had parents to set a proper example for you. Of course they might have shown you what not to do but where do you go from there? Is shit like that really avoidable? You don’t want to be like them. You strive to be better but what if you can’t be. There’s also the added bonus of the fact that raising a kid seems taxing on a relationship. Now matter how strong you were sure that the stress of a kid could break a relationship down that then festers into something toxic and unrecognizable. You didn’t want that. God you couldn’t let that happen. No. This was definitely for the better.

Of course Aizawa didn’t feel the same. He was confused on why his partner had been so blatantly avoiding him. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t remember doing anything that might’ve upset you. So why now? Why pull away now? He had to get down to the bottom of this but catching you was the hard part. You had been taking on more work, offering more assistance to the other teachers, picking up extra patrols, doing everything and anything to stay away from Shouta. It took him a month but he finally caught up to you. You were tired, worn out he knew that. Instead of loading yourself with work you’d decided to hole yourself up in your room. It was now or never.

You were pulled out of your peace at the sound of a few gentle knocks to your door. You really didn’t want to get it. You honestly couldn’t be bothered. 

“(N/n)? Are you in there?” He hadn’t gotten it wrong right? He hadn’t been too distracted earlier and missed you leaving right?

“What’s up?” You hummed from your place by the window, not bothering to actually open the door.

“Can I come in?” Shouta asked, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the patter of the rain and the low humming of your laptop.

“Uh, no, kinda busy. Got loads of work to do. Need to focus, sorry. Maybe later?” You hesitantly spoke. Not sure if you were convincing enough. 

Apparently you weren’t.

He sighed. “It’s been “later” for an entire month. Please (Y/n) just let me in. Whatever this is we can talk it out.” You had predicted that eventually Shouta would start to try to crack down on whatever the issue was but you didn’t expect it so soon. 

“Uh...no?” You tried, hoping that maybe he’d just give up but that wasn’t Shouta.

“No, you don’t get that option, now please, open the door.” Although it was still soft his voice had taken a more stern tone.

“Oh no I’m dead. I guess I can’t open the door. What a shame. I guess the only way to talk with me now is in the pits of hell.” You quipped, trying to lessen the tension that already ran thick.

“(Y/n).” Aizawa sighed.

“Jeez fine. Talk about pushy.” You quipped once more to no avail.

Opening the door you were met with, well exactly what you expected. He stood there, arms crossed, a stern yet gentle look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a slight frown. 

“Come in.” You mumbled as you stepped further into your room.

“So tell me. What’s wrong?” The sentence stirred so much. Of course you wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill your guts to the man you loved in hopes of comfort but you just can’t. You know you’ll just scare him off. You know you’ll make things worse.

So you stay silent.

He says nothing as he grabs your hands gently and leads you over to your bed. He sits the two of you down on the edge, muting the movie on the laptop sitting behind him.

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you right?” Shouta sent you a warm smile. 

You weren’t very comfortable with discussing your feelings sometimes, it mostly stemmed from the fact that you never really could discuss them with anyone growing up which made it harder to confide in anyone now, as at this point bottling things up was a habit. But this was also just something that you were sure that you couldn’t talk about.

Silence answered him once again.

Now he took sometime to think about his approach, think about what could’ve happened that made you pull away. What did he do that was different from his norm? He was genuinely stumped and the fact that you weren’t helping him confused him even more.

You decided to take this time to lament the situation too. What was he going to do? Should you actually tell him or play it off? If you play it off will he still insist that something is wrong? If you tell him will he leave you? If you don’t tell him will he leave you? You risked a glance at him, he was still deep in thought.

Why did you have to adopt this fucking kid without at least warning me?

“What?” Your head shot up at the sound of his shocked voice.

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“Eri’s the problem...?” He spoke slowly, not entirely sure if he’d heard you right.

“Did I say that out loud?” You squeaked.

“I’m pretty sure you mumbled something along the lines of “why’d you have to adopt that fucking kid”.” Shouta said, unsure if he’d heard wrong. Wanting to have heard wrong.

“No no no no no no! It’s not like that! I mean it is like that but not like that!” You frantically waved your hands in hopes of defusing the situation.

The way he looked at you made you want to cry. You felt horrible. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world and, at this point you probably were. He looked at you with such a look of heartbreak and disappointment and confusion it made you sick to your stomach. You felt light-headed and started shaking. You were right. You were right. You were always right. God why did you have to be right! Why did you have to be like this? Scared of raising a fucking child! It was asinine and irrational and you could probably move past it  but thanks to your stupid fucking brain you just sealed your fate.

You scooted away from him still waving your hands frantically as no’s tumbled endlessly from your lips. You tried sputtering an apology, anything so that he wouldn’t look at you like that but nothing stuck. Nothing was comprehensible. Nothing worked. Nothing would work. Nothing will work. You were hopeless. It was hopeless. 

“If it isn’t like how it seems then tell it to me straight.” Shouta finally spoke up.

You took a second to come down from your panic. You steeled your nerves as much as possible before you spoke. 

“Um well, I have nothing against her it’s just that a little heads up would’ve been nice? I’m not all that great with kids so this is just kind of weird is all.” You were purposefully being vague in hopes that he’d understand what you meant and also maybe drop it.

“Not great with kids? You’re literally a teacher.” He pointed out.

“Yeah you know but she’s like a kid kid and let’s be honest I’m not too great with the students either.” You awkward laughed. So he wasn’t getting it.

“Wha-you’re fine with the students and I’m sure you’ll be fine with Eri, there was no reason to avoid me over this.” Shouta sighed. As good as he was with dealing with people, he was equally as shit. Or maybe it was just the fact that you gave him very little to work with. It was probably a bit of both. Still his dismissiveness was not helping you right now.

“No, no, no, no. I think I’ll stay here. Uh, good luck with your parenthood escapades and sorry to leave you high and dry like this but that’s going to have to be a no from me.” You rambled. He seemed to be getting a little tired of this.

“(Y/n) stop being irrational. She’s not even our kid I’m just looking after her for now. Why are you being difficult? I told you you were fine with the students and you’ll be fine with Eri, what else do you want to hear?” Shouta grumbled.

“Well uh I don’t know, uh...” You trailed off, this seemed to be going in a direction you really didn’t want it to go. A slight hostility settling in the air.

At your lack of a proper answer he clicked his tongue. He took a moment to reassess the situation. There had to be something he was missing. After all you were getting really worked up but if you weren’t going to talk to him there was nothing he could do. He shook his head before running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“(Y/n), please, please, just be honest with me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. But I won’t be able to understand if you don’t.” Aizawa sighed, deciding that getting worked up about this was not the way to go, especially when you seemed to be especially distraught.

“Uh, god the thing is I don’t know entirely what to say to put the shitshow in my head into perspective.” You mumbled, trying desperately to figure out what to say that could clear the air but nothing seemed to be coherent enough.

“Take your time.” He decided that this was the best approach to things, making sure neither party got too worked up lest this turn into a fight.

The rain continued to patter softly against the window and your candle continued to burn an slightly off floral-ish scent.  A deafening silence hung in the air because even though he was being as patient as possible some of his frustration leaked through, it was bound to though so you couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, you were probably equally as frustrated with yourself too. 

“I’m just not good in a position like this. I’m not good with kids, especially someone like Eri who’s already so broken. You have that nurturing nature, it comes natural to you but I’m not on that level. I  don’t know the first thing about caring for a child let alone one as already traumatized as her. I’d fuck it up and only make things worse. I don’t want you to reassure me that I’ll be okay with her, I want you to understand that I’m not comfortable with this and that it might take me awhile to come around. I’m sure I sound like the biggest asshole ever but please understand that this just isn’t something I’m ready for.” You had rambled a bit, you were aware of that, but it was the only way that you could properly express your feelings without making things too complicated.

Aizawa said nothing. Trying to figure out how to go about things.

Was he upset? Yeah, you two, even after several long years of being together, hadn’t discussed moving forward in your relationship in depth. And if he’d tried you seemed content with the point you two were at so he left it be, no reason to try and move forward when what you had was already fine the way it was. But recently he’d been craving more. Some mornings, when he’d be the first to wake, he’d study your features in the soft light of the sunrise and wonder what it’d be like to properly settle down with you. Get married, start a family, all that jazz. He’d taken in Eri only because it was the most rational decision. His quirk would be good for quelling hers had it ever gotten out of hand. But it also seemed to quell his musings of something more with you. He had imagined you being a good parental figure for the little girl and it made his heart flutter and his stomach explode with butterflies. But now seeing that that wasn’t what you wanted and how you weren’t ready for it, it stung. But in the end, he loved you. He’d easily give his life for you. So, if that meant waiting he’d wait. He’d wait a million years if he had to. He could do it.

Once again he spoke,

“Take your time then. I can wait.”

Tagslist?: @captainchrisstan (I think you said you wanted to be tagged but I’m also just small brained lol If u didn’t want to and I misinterpreted things just let me know :) )

[jossambird]

This Soul Of Mine PT 4

Main Incubus Otto x Reader (Incubus Axel and Oscar x Reader in later parts!)

18+ (also in later parts)

(Mentions of Rape but only passing, as Incubus are Male Demons who feed off sex, most of them are NOT kind Swedes.)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

After a few moments spent together in silence petting the little cat in Otto’s arms, a man came out of the house along with Oscar. The unknown man’s eyes narrowed as he took you in, frowning deeply as Oscar seemed to whisper to him.

“I am Axel.” He roughly stated as he kept your gaze, accent thick. You nodded, trying to smile but too overwhelmed to. The wind blew around you, the silence practically deafening as he seemed to stare into your soul.

“I am Y/N-“

“Yes I know, your name was on the cookie box.” He cut you off, sounding irritated and headed back inside with Oscar, leaving only the screen door open.

“Sorry, he is wary of.. new people.” Otto whispered, a small smirk appearing on his lips as you both heard Axel huff loudly inside the home. Together, you sat on their front porch, petting the little bundle of fur before it demanded to be put down, running away quickly.

“I... May I ask a favor of you..?” You asked Otto, voice silent as to not let his brothers hear you. Judging by the way you saw them slightly turn their heads though, Super Hearing was also probably an Incubus power.

You felt bad asking this of him, it wasn’t his job... But he had imprinted on you, hadn’t he? Laid claim to you accidentally, just as The Handler had said. You were now his, and he yours, surely that meant something.

Your slight pinpricks of worry reached his nose, followed by embarrassment and hope. Hope?

“Yes, of course.” Otto whispered back, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the smell of relief you exuded, so much so that he had to look away, eyes turning inside to catch both Oscar and Axel watching out of anticipation.

“Would you mind accompanying me to church after tomorrow? It would not be for long, I... I need to deliver something, but I dont feel comfortable going alone.” You answered, wondering if he could sense that you were hiding something from him.

Could Incubi also read minds, just as their female Ruler had? Was that simply a Succubus power? God, as soon as you got home, you were going to write all of this down.

It was obvious you were hiding something from him, but as he took in the delicious scent of your emotions, Otto knew it wasn’t anything malicious. Your worry and hope outshined anything else, the sweet mixture making his insides burn, feeling the sudden need to comfort you.

It was a mistake to reach out, to touch you, hand placed on your forearm. The moment he did, mouth open to answer, the sharp dangerous smell of arousal waifed off of you, calling to him, your surprise mixing with it as he retracted his hand. Otto’s mind reeled as he tried to recover, senses on fire, barely registering that you had accidentally projected some of your emotions onto him in that moment.

“I will walk you home.” Axel declared, scaring you as he appeared behind you, gloved hand settling on your shoulder to lift you and turn you away from his stunned brother. You frowned, trying to turn to say goodbye to the two other brothers but couldn’t, Axel’s rough hold veering you out the yard and into the street and cold night, his gray eyes shining as he watched you.

“I know that you know.” He stated as he walked alongside you, momentarily shutting his senses off as to avoid your whirlwind of emotions that you visibly had no control over whatsoever. Mortals, such incapable beings. He didn’t miss the way your head snapped back to him, watching him as you walked together.

“My brothers are young, a hint of stupid even, so they cannot tell, but I can. You fraternized with her, sat with her. You smell of her cigarettes.” He said after a moment passed, coming at a standstill. You werent Otto’s soulmate, you were working for The Handler, plotting, cruel, acting kind to get close to his poor unsuspecting brother. He wanted to lash out, tell you how stupid you were-

The scent of pure unadulterated relief flooded his senses out of nowhere as you turned to him, eyes wide open as you gasped deeply, looking at him in surprise.

“Oh god, thank goodness! You have no idea how relieved I am to know that you know, she absolutely scared the life out of me! She arrived at the Church and sat right beside me!” You exclaimed, hands flying to your face to hide from him, fearing he was about to kill you-

“You- Your being honest...” Axel said, tone sounding more uncertain then he had ever been in his life, finding himself out of his depth at your honest and truthful answer. Something within his chest hurt, a sharp and twisted pain, lighting his senses on fire. It felt like the first breath of fresh air after being held under water for ages, wind filling his lungs as he breathed in slowly. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get it; you knew they were demons? Incubi, to be specific, and yet you stayed either way?

“Why would you fraternize with demons, demons that rape, harm pretty little women like you... who lure unsuspecting women out in parks at night, only to eat their throat out?” Axel stated, trying to make you see just what they were, the dangers that they brought, what they truly were, but as he went on, he felt more drained, losing whatever edge he hoped to exude out to you.

He hated you, hated that a mere mortal like you were making him regret his choices, making him regret what he was as he saw the gentle pure kindness in your eyes. Most of all, he hated that you, you of all people, a pretty little church goer, made him regret being born an Incubus. For the first time in all of his existence, a mortal, a human, knew what he was, and stayed, showing him the same exact kindness as before.

“Wow, with a facial expression as flat as that, Im really trembling in my boots.” You smirked at him, hand lifting to push your hair back behind your ear as the wind blew around the both of you, trees swaying in the wind. A vile putrid stench filled the air for a moment and made him forget the retort that had been on his tongue, nearly making him gag as the scent filled his senses. What was that?

“Do that again.” Axel whispered out harshly, eyes sharply observing you critically as you stopped smiling.

“Do what again?” You asked, eyes wide, breath catching in your throat as he came closer, face moving towards you as if to smell you.

“Place your hair behind your ear again, there is something... unclean on you, something The Handler must have implanted on you, I can smell it wafting into the air around you.” Axel said before recoiling sharply as you lifted your arm, your soft gaze turning worried as you watched him openly gag, the noise making the nerves inside of you burst.

“Oh my god Axel, are you okay!? Im so sorry!” You asked, stepping away from him to leave him some room but halting as his arm shot out, grabbing ahold of your wrist-

Axel froze as foul images assaulted his senses, the scent overpowering him. He remained unmoving though, feeling it too important of a vision to pull back, pull away. You, the mere human mortal, were too important, he corrected himself, heart beating faster as he watched a Priest, supposedly a man of God, jerking himself off, your dainty little bracelet in his hand. Axel watched with a feeling of violation as the priest finished himself off and pocketed the bracelet, only to give it to you later that day at the end of a sermon. The man had tainted it, placed his unholy hands on it, coated with-

“Take it off.” Axel grunted as he pulled away, emotions running amok inside of him like a hurricane in an open field, ripping and destroying everything in its path. The delicate scent of your hesitation reached him, and he almost sighed out of joy at the sheer difference of weight your scent had over the bracelets filthy smell, making him forget the Priest’s disgusting act.

“If you can trust me, no matter how small, please, trust me now Y/N.” He added, eyes locking onto yours. It was a stretch Axel told himself, knowing he wasn’t in any position to demand anything of you after accusing you of potentially betraying them with little proof.

Nothing in this world had ever brought him ecstasy, nothing had ever made his dead heart beat, and yet here you were, ripping the bracelet off and throwing it into the woods behind you; the mere sight of your trust made his blood roil pleasantly under his skin, fingertips aching to touch you.

Had this been exactly what Otto had felt the first time he had touched you? Otto had been frugal on the details of his awakened state of mind, but was touch truly the key? It had to be, he had never felt a more pressing need to touch a human, anyone, anything, YOU, more then Axel did right now, invisible Incubus tail fidgeting back and forth out of confusion.

“Are you alright?” You asked again, noticing how far his gaze seemed, reminded suddenly of Otto’s expression the first time he had laid his hand on you. Axel breathed in sharply as you came closer, eyes connecting with your own. His gray-blue eyes shined in the moonlight, platinum blond hair reminding you of fresh snow.

You didn’t know what Father James’ bracelet had, or what magic was on it, but you trusted Axel.

“Y/N... If I asked you to no longer visit the Priest alone, would you respect my judgement?” Axel whispered softly as he lifted his hand, wanting to pushing your hair once more behind your ear but couldn’t. He watched you, watched as the wheels turned within your mind, and watched with greed as you bit your lip softly.

He had always seen female lovers do it, biting their lips to keep themselves from making sound, or out of desire, and it had never done anything for him. Yet here he stood, hand lowering to his side once more, insides churning in pure delight at the sight of your teeth sinking into your lower lip softly. The sweet scent of your surprise at his question curled around you, patiently allowing you to think before answering him.

You wondered if Axel had heard you speak to Otto earlier or if he had taken an educated guess. Did he also have powers like their Ruler did? He visibly had Super Hearing, but the was for another day to think about.

“You know, earlier at your home, I thought you hated me. But I would almost say you have a soft spot for me Axel, seeing how accommodating you are, walking me home.” You said, changing the subject as you felt anxiety rise up your spine with a vicious need. Axel hummed in answer, eyes squinting as he regarded you.

“You need not answer me, but please, next time, ask my poor simpleton of a Brother to accompany you.” He spoke, smiling a bit as you nodded and continued your walk home, silence reigning over the both of you the rest of the way.

——

The walk back home was torturous for Axel, mind and heart fighting, intelligence trying to reign victorious over these... feelings, emotions. Useless things, really.

Yet... he understood, understood why Otto had been acting irrationally. Nothing seemed to make sense as he had watched you wave goodbye to him from your front door, senses telling him to leave but.. body roaring to go knock on your door, to ask for permission to enter and touch you, touch your cheeks and run his lips against your throat. Axel wanted to feel your pulse under his fingertips, feel the fleeting human life inside you, and to feel you, just you, touching him back out of your own volition, not like the humans affected by his natural Pheromones.

Axel’s feet came to a sudden stop, previous inner thoughts reminding him just what he was: A Demon. An Incubus, a male demon that sought to impregnate human women, feeding off their souls and lives. He was everything your kind feared, everything they had nightmares about, everything human children cried about.

Slowly yet quickly, the thought came crashing down on him that this, all of these emotions he was feeling, all of these humanly soft thoughts, all of these stupid fantasies could never happen.

Never should he touch your cheeks, and run his lips along your throat. Never should he feel your pulse under his fingertips.

Never, under any circumstances, should he ever feel your touch, from this moment on. If he did, Axel knew he would fail, knew he would throw everything to the wind, fairytales and folktales be damned.

If you touched him, Axel knew he would follow you until the end of the Earth.

[bangtanmythology]

In The Name Of Song. Witching Hour.

Part six: Witching Hour:

Jungkook is plagued with nightmares about a shiny emerald mermaid and maybe they aren’t going away any time soon, maybe, you’re having nightmares about a werewolf that wants to hurt you. 

Words: 1.9K

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It had been 3 days since their little conversation about you and Jungkook and Namjoon was adamant in finding you and bringing you back to their reality. Trouble would be how to find you and the fact that even though it had only been 4 days since you had left for them, it had been almost 6 months for you.

“Just, summon him?” Taehyung’s voice was bold, full of a statement that had Hobi rolling his eyes,

“don’t you think that if I could do that, I would have already done it by now?” Hobi’s eyes were trained on the ceiling, the games console controller heavy in his left hand that sagged off the sofa and hovered inches from the floor. Taehyung was holding a clear bag with the letters AB- written across the front, a deep red liquid disappearing from within, passing through his lips with the curly metallic straw he had shoved through the top of the bag.

“How does he reach out to you normally?” Namjoon sighed, his controller discarded by his feet, his eyes focused on the bright red ‘GAME OVER’ that had been flashing on the television screen for the last 7 minutes. Hobi sighed and Seokjin peered in from the kitchen,

“I don’t choose when he comes you know, he’ll send me a letter, they don’t have a postage address or anything, they just appear and then he gives me a meeting point, which by the way is different every time he needs me, and I just show up there at the date and time he gives me and then wow, he appears, except this time he didn’t send a letter, he just appeared at the allotment whilst I was collecting herbs for my medicines and well, he just begged me to come with him and I went,” Hobi was listing off useless information, falling on deaf ears. His eyes remained glassy and unblinking as he continued to find interest in the swirly patterns of their white ceiling.

“Well, he keeps the peace between supernatural, maybe we just need to have a big fight and he’ll come,” Seokjin was shrugging, one hand on his hip as he wiped the other across the cooking apron that tied around his waist that read ‘HOT MAMA’.

“You say that so seriously as if you weren’t dressed like that right now,” Taehyung was giggling, a red tint to his plump lips as he swiped his blood-stained tongue across it. Seokjin rolled his eyes,

“I’m making chicken casserole, we need Jungkook to eat something, I thought maybe he’d enjoy that,”

“He’s not home, and another thing, I think he’s a true alpha,” Namjoon hadn’t slept since he was told the youngest pack members eyes had ‘glowed red’, especially since it was only possible to become an alpha if your pack dies or you’re a beta and the alpha dies. Namjoon would never forget the day when he became an alpha. His brothers, his whole family had been killed, cut to pieces at the hands of a witch.

“what the hell is a true alpha?” Taehyung now had a blood bag with the letter ‘A+’ written across it, this had been his 4th one of the day.

“A true alpha is someone who doesn’t need to climb the ranks, they don’t need to lose their packs, they don’t need to kill their pack to become one, they are destined to be one, they are born as an alpha. It’s extremely rare and the alpha gene doesn’t take control of someone unless they kill someone who is innocent, that’s the only way that they can become their true alpha selves, they’re more powerful than any other alphas, it’s a 1 in 500 chance,”

 Jungkook had been running for hours, panting, his body aching and wanting to give way, a feeling of fear embedded into his brain. He had left in his wolf form, sitting outside the pool house for 20 minutes or so, waiting for Y/N to come back. He had not remembered changing back to his human form, he had not remembered coming back to the forest, he had not remembered anything. He had woken up 40 minutes from the house, covered in blood and dirt, the blood smelt human to him, and he knew he had hurt someone, the feeling sinking into the lowest part of his heart.

For days he had been plagued by nightmares, green emerald eyes piercing holes into his face from the intensity they held as they stared at him, pain stricken and cold. Every night he would reach out for the person and he would be consumed by a wave of water, engulfing him and all he could see was a bright emerald tail with gold fins swimming away from him. He knew it was her, his mate, Y/N. Nightmares about your mate were not normal, they did not happen to any of the other werewolves he had spoken to who had found their mates. He knew something was wrong, the group of 4 women that chased him, shouting gibberish words that pierced through his ears and caused a vice like sensation to shoot pain through his head.

The world span, the leaves and trees blurred into his eyes, green and brown and then all black. His knees met the solid ground, cutting the exposed flesh and his hands came down to steady him, palms digging into the sticks and stones beneath then, his nude body collapsing onto the dirt.

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

“So, what, you actually want us to have a full-on fist fight?” Hobi muttered, standing face to face with Taehyung whose eyes were glowing crimson and fangs were on full display, an unpleased look apparent on his beautiful features. Seokjin nodded eagerly, his face lighting up at the prospect of finally summoning the fallen angel.

“That won’t be necessary,”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“I’m not the devil, what childish things do you all come to just to get me here,” Yoongi was shaking his head, eyes glaring at Namjoon who just stared at the floor, embarrassed that his thoughts had been heard by the shorter male.

“Well, we were going to fight to bring you here but apparently you’re already here,” Hobi felt dejected, his shoulders slumping as he threw himself onto the dirt of their back garden.

“I’m here because your youngest pack member, who I have left on your living room floor by the way, is having some witch problems and soon enough he is going to lose all control, if I hadn’t stepped in today then he’d be dead,” Yoongi was glaring at the 4 men that stood in the garden, blank stares and creased brows on each of their faces.

“what ar-“

“A witch had gotten a hold of Jungkook’s dream sequences, she’s been plaguing him with the same dream for almost a week now, she’s a direct ancestor of the witches who cursed the ancestors of his mate, who I’m sure you already know is a mermaid called Y/N. Now, Y/N is a siren, you know what, I do not have time to explain everything again. The point is, said witch found him whilst he was out today and she brain washed him, she had him go inside of a house and kill an entire family, he has no memory of this, and I cleaned everything up so you don’t need to worry about anyone sniffing around. They were inside his head, killing him slowly from the inside out when he did not immediately become an alpha. The problem here, which is a problem for him but a great thing for all of us is that he cannot become a true alpha unless he has his mate by his side. So, for your own protection, I will not be bringing Y/N back, she’s going to act as an anchor to him however, we need him to be able to control the power he has before we can even consider such things,

He needs to train, his body won’t handle the power he has, however, with his mate sickness it’s going to get extremely hard for him, you need to do whatever you werewolves would usually do when it comes to training another one to be an alpha,”

_______________________________________________________________

“Why is Yoongi always disappearing just when we need him?” Jimin groaned, legs swinging over the side of the cliff, the clear water 15 feet beneath him glistening in the bright sun. Y/N laughed and sat up, grass stains covering her hands and elbows and she pushed herself to stand and lean her knees on her brothers back.

“We don’t need him, he didn’t help me when I learned to swim using my tail, he didn’t help me when I first learned to use my voice to lure the men in, he didn’t help me when my siren took over and I almost killed the whole ship full of men. You and grandma were the ones who had done that,” Y/N was carding her hands through the top of Jimin’s hair, curling small strands through her fingers and he sighed.

“I know that but you heard what people are saying about the witches, do you think we can take them on with just swimming powers and the ability to manipulate water?” Jimin groaned as he leaned back, pushing Y/N onto the heels of her feet. She quickly lost her balance and fell back, head landing on a pile of daisies Jimin had pulled from the ground, as Jimin quickly leaned back and rested his head on her thigh.

“Okay, they’re powerful but we are so strong when we work together, we can do it Jimin, we’re not weak, we sunk two whole ships last night with a huge tsunami, I’m sure if we have to we can kill 3 witches.” Y/N was staring at the sky, something that had mesmerised her since she had arrived her almost 8 months ago, the sky was always a hue of purple, pink and blue throughout the day and became a dark crimson, evil red at night.

“How have your nightmares been lately?” Jimin asked, eyes trained on the pink cloud that passed slowly over their calm bodies.

“They’ve been getting worse, I keep getting scared Yoongi will find out about it, I don’t want him to worry about me, I keep just seeing this same werewolf that I always saw near my pool house, except in my dream he turns into this boy with red eyes and he has the snarling teeth, they’re not fangs, they’re just like the teeth of a wolf but he’s so angry and out of control and he charges toward me and just attacks me, it’s so scary,” Y/n was mumbling, a shiver raking through her body as she remembered the saliva coated teeth that were bloody and on full show as they charged towards her.

“Why do you keep dreaming about it, I mean from what you told me it was clearly after you, it wanted you because it would sit there and watch you, what do you think it wants?” Jimin was now turning his up to look at Y/N’s face, despite only being able to see the underside of her chin and jaw.

“Clearly it wants me Jimin, but someone else is causing these nightmares and I want to know who it is,”

[obsidianfr3sk]

Rise of the Renegades (Chapter 8)

Summary:  Heroes come from the most unexpected places. Heroes sometimes feel a little too different, a little too scared, a little too alone. But heroes also know when enough is enough, and that before saving the world, they need to save themselves. And they cannot do it alone.

They were going to be the hope of the world. They were going to call themselves the Renegades. Even if they didn’t know it yet.

AO3 Link

Hi!! I honestly didn’t expected to update today, but here we are:’) I hope you enjoy this chapter!! If someone wants to be added or remove from the tag list, tell me haha.

Tag list: @nodrianbcyes @dawniebb @healing-winston-pratt @cerenoya @ marissagustrerbenson

Getting cold hands?

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,

and how you suffered for your sanity,

and how you tried to set them free.

They would not listen, they did not know how;

perhaps they'll listen now.

Simon

“YOU DID WHAT?”

Hugh put his hand over his mouth to shut him up and Simon felt his cheeks turn red when he realized a couple of older boys had turned to see why the hell he was yelling. Their faces contorted in disgust and continued with their chat.

Because prodigies were disgusting.

He immediately regretted his decision to come back to school.

Hugh removed his hand from his mouth. “Don't be mad at me,” he whispered.

“I'm not mad at you,” he replied in a lower voice, “it's just that I'm surprised you did something so impulsive and so, so… so stupid.”

Hugh bit his lip but couldn't hide his laugh. “Wow, Simon, watch your language.”

He kicked him to silence him. “I am serious,” he replied. “You gave my address to a complete stranger—"

“Georgia.”

“—To make a plan for which we have no ideas—"

“I do have many ideas.”

“—and who will bring a friend we don't know.”

Simon went silent, waiting for Hugh to answer with the friend's name. But he did not.

That only further proved his point. “From the beginning, your plan was very wrong.”

And I should have been there to warn you.

“No, my plan was golden from the beginning,” Hugh argued, “because Georgia is not a stranger. I met her at Joe’s Basket and she turned out to be a really nice girl. She likes mystery novels, wears white pajamas to sleep, and can fly. I consider that a very specific profile.”

“I consider her a stranger. You don’t even know her last name.”

“Rawles.”

“Does she has a middle name?”

Hugh ignored him completely. “If you just had heard her speak, Simon. She was absolutely right about everything,” he continued. “Georgia is a good person. She returned my notebook even though she didn't have to. And look what she did.”

Discreetly, he took a sheet of paper out of his back pocket. It was the drawing he had been working on a couple of days ago. Propaganda. “She repaired my drawing with washi-tape. It’s… kind of pretty, isn’t it?”

It was the most adorable washi-tape Simon had ever seen. “Too girly,” he growled.

“Girly? The— the washi-tape?”

“Yes,” Simon answered. “It’s too girly. I don’t like it.”

“Oh, no, I don’t like it either,” Hugh answered. “I just thought the contrast was… funny.” 

Simon said nothing more. Hugh put the drawing back before anyone else saw it. “Look, that’s what would make us a great team. We all have different strengths. And also… she’s a girl. An older girl. And she likes Wonder Man.”

Simon decided to draw the line there. To hell with her pretty washi-tape. “Why does it matter she’s an older girl who likes Wonder Man? I like Wonder Man too.”

Hugh adjusted his glasses, confused. “But… you don’t like it,” he reminded him. “You say Wonder Man is an idiot.”

I do say that.

“What I mean is,” he said evasively, “like ... I mean, what does strengths does she has? Because being a girl is not one of them.”

“Her vision,” she replied. “She has a way of seeing things that are surely different from ours. Not just because she's a girl, but also because I bet she has experienced the world in a way we haven't and has more experience with certain things that could help us. How many times have we talked to someone who isn’t part of the school?”

Simon rolled his eyes. “We don't talk to anyone at school,” he muttered.

They hate us. They really hate us.

Or do they fear us?

Is there a difference?

“Well, when have we talked to someone... other than the two of us? Or your dad, or your sister—” and he smiled playfully “—or my aunt.”

He immediately realized he was trying to make him laugh. But at that point in the conversation, Simon was fed up with the entire female gender and he wasn’t even willing to smile at him.

Hugh hugged himself. For some reason, he was not wearing a jacket that day... “Where’s your jacket?” he asked in a soft voice.

“I gave it to Georgia,” he replied. “The one she had didn't protect her from the cold.”

Then Simon remembered that they were arguing and that Hugh was an idiot who gave his address to strangers and did not deserve his compassion. “Well, it's her fault. Why does she wear a jacket that looks cools but doesn't protect you from the cold?”

“Maybe she’s… passionate about fashion?” he said, half-joking.

Simon didn't find it funny. “Maybe she puts fashion above basic needs.”

Hugh realized that it was useless to keep trying to make him laugh. He put his hands in his pants pockets. “Simon…” He glanced at him. “You... that someone you mentioned last time—“

“What’s with that someone?” he asked sharply.

“That someone still wants me to believe in him, right?”

At that moment, Simon realized that throughout the entire conversation, he had had his arms crossed as if he were throwing a tantrum.

Stars. How childish Simon looked. And how worried Hugh looked.

The last thing he wanted to do was worry him.

Simon wasn't even quite sure why he was reacting like that. Like, of course, he had been annoyed that Hugh had made a move without first consulting him, especially one involving his home.

However, it didn't take long for him to realize that that other emotion he felt, in addition to the obvious annoyance, was fear. Fear that he was going to leave him for that new friend he had made. Which he knew didn't make sense because Hugh wasn't the one who abandoned others.

That one was Simon. Simon had abandoned him the other day.

Simon was the bad person here. 

He leaned against the wall. “Yes...” he acknowledged. “That someone still needs you to believe in him.”

Because that someone needs you maybe a little too much.

Hugh seemed suddenly calmer. “Good,” he sighed. “I was starting to get a little worried.”

“Sorry.”

“You don't need to apologize.”

“Sorry,” he repeated.

“Simon, stop.”

But he couldn't. “Sorry.”

Hugh just laughed and leaned against the wall too. “Well, you know, since we're on the apology thing… I'm sorry I didn't consult you before giving the address to someone who is a stranger. For you,” he added quickly. Simon kicked him. I told you that she is a stranger. “It's just that… I got excited. I have never met someone like Georgia.”

Simon nodded and felt a lump in his throat. He knew what Hugh was talking about.

He had never met someone who believed in themselves because the only person Hugh hung out with was Simon, and Simon…

Simon didn't believe in anything. Not even himself.

“Are you sure we can trust her?” he asked in a small voice.

“She promised me he would be there,” he replied. “And I had to promise her that I would be there too. Simon… can you promise me that too?”

Simon scoffed. “You will be at my house.”

“You know what I mean—“ he tapped his hand with two fingers. “Can you promise me you'll be there?” he repeated.

Simon ignored the feelings that light touch gave him.

He had always been good at ignoring.

So he nodded.

The bell rang and the few students in the courtyard began to enter. Hugh chattered his teeth and hugged himself again.

“You are cold, right?” Simon asked him.

Simon didn't want to go to class yet. He wished he could stay out a while longer. Simon loved cold days because he could put on a lot of layers of clothing and people saw less of him.

But the truth was that he didn't want to go to class yet because he wanted to stay talking with his friend a bit longer.

Even if he made him angry.

“I’m freezing,” he answered. “Look, feel my hands.”

He put a hand on his cheek. Simon could feel his face turning all red again.

Ignore it, ignore it.

“Yes. They’re cold,” he answered.

“Told you. Cold can’t kill me, but is surely a pain in the ass.”

Simon gave him a lopsided smile, trying not to look like he was doing his best not to imagine… that.

Don’t think about his ass.

In a desperate attempt to distract his mind, he searched his pockets for the gloves his father told him last night to wear when leaving the house. He stood up and handed them to Hugh. “Put them on. I don't like wearing gloves anyway.”

They headed for the school entrance while Hugh struggled to put them on. They were a little too small for him, but if he didn't move his hands a lot they would surely cover them well. “Thank you,” he mumbled with a smile.

Simon shrugged. It was the least he could do.

The rest of the day, he was the one whose hands were freezing because his school had no heating since always. Yet the thought that Hugh was wearing them and that his hands were warm made him better able to ignore the cold.

That and the fact his cheeks were still red.

I'm not abandoning you again, Hugh.

I’d rather be dead.

Georgia

When she arrived, she did not make her classic introduction. She didn't say "Honey, I'm home!" nor did she hold Molly in her arms and ask her how school went. She only greeted Tamaya, gave her the bag with the few provisions that she could offer her, and dropped onto her mattress.

It was more comfortable than one would expect to. She didn't understand why Tamaya said it was uncomfortable.

Tamaya didn't seem to notice that change. And if she did, she said nothing. Georgia would dare to say that she was just as quiet as her.

She lay down beside Georgia. They were shoulder to shoulder, staring at the old roof of the abandoned store. Tamaya fiddled with her broken locket.

“Who goes first?” Georgia asked leaning on her shoulder.

“Huh?”

“Who tells her problem first,” she clarified.

“Oh.” Tamaya dropped her locket. “You. You go first.”

Georgia wanted to refuse. She knew that if she started talking, there would probably be no one able to stop her. And it was already difficult to get Tamaya to open up…

But she had to tell someone. She couldn't hold that secret inside her for another second.

She turned to see her. “I met someone.”

Tamaya did the same. “Someone?”

“A boy.”

“A boy,” she repeated. Sharply.

“Not like that,” she clarified quickly. “He's a literal boy. So yeah. It would be kinda gross, to be honest.”

Tamaya relaxed her expression. Only a little. “What did he do to you?” she asked.

“Stars, Tamaya,” Georgia laughed. “He did nothing to me. But he gave me this.”

She reached into the pocket of her jeans. Georgia hated wearing jeans because her legs were too wide and she could never find jeans that actually fit her. However, that day all her skirts were too dirty to wear. And she also had to keep that paper in a safe place.

They both straightened up as Georgia unfolded the paper with her fingers.

It's made of glass, Georgia. Like your hopes. Like the future of the world.

Be very careful.

She opened it without breaking it and passed it to Tamaya.

To a very confused Tamaya.

It's made of glass, Tam. Please don't break it.

“Is this his address?” she asked, confused.

“No, it's his friend's address.”

Tamaya crumpled the piece of paper rolling her eyes. “What the hell do you want to tell me, Georgia?”

“Be careful!” she screeched, snatching it away.

She put it on her leg and began to try to flatten it with all the strength of her hand. Luckily she had rescued it in time...

It’s made of glass! It’s made of glass!

Tamaya hid between her wings. Immediately, Georgia could recognize what he was trying to tell her by that.

She was afraid. Altered. She didn't like being yelled at.

And Georgia knew it. “Sorry...” she mumbled.

Tamaya nodded.

Why did she have to be so loud?

“Tamaya... who are you?” she asked.

Tamaya rolled her eyes. “I think you just answered your own question,” she mumbled, annoyed.

“No, I mean ... what are we?” she asked. “Look where we are—” she pointed around her “—look where we ended up.”

“I don't know if it's time for you to make me feel bad about where I live.”

“No! It's not that, Tamaya, it's just that…”

 And she stopped.

“Is it just what?”

The same question was in her head.

What's your excuse now, Georgia?

She fought the urge to cry that suddenly washed over her. “It's just that I haven't stopped wondering if we've been on the right side of history,” she replied, standing up. “And it's something that I hadn't really asked myself until yesterday, you know? Until they gave me this address.”

Tamaya's shoulders hunched more. She was still hidden behind its wings.

Jeez, Georgia, can't you lower your voice a bit?

Georgia knelt beside her friend and put a hand on her shoulder. She did not reject her or bite her. Good. “Tamaya, what are we?” she insisted. “Are we women?”

“Well... yes,” she replied with a frown. “Or at least you are.”

“No, Tamaya, I am not a woman. I'm a girl,” Georgia said. “I am a girl who continues to live in the fantasy world that she designed to survive all the trauma she went through. It doesn't matter I have grown physically, on the inside… on the inside all I have done is hide my head between my books and my dolls and your friendship, because I am too much of a coward to do anything for the outside world.”

She covered her mouth with her hands as she turned her back to her. Don't cry, don't you dare cry.

Georgia did not cry.

Tamaya stood up. “Are you... are you okay?”

“Yes,” she replied with a sigh. “All good. You? Are you okay? Do you forgive me for yelling at you?”

She did not reply. For a second, Georgia thought she was going to hug her. How childish of her to think that. Tamaya never hugged people. She didn't know how to do it.

So Georgia hugged herself.

She always hugged herself. There was no one left to do it.

“I still do not understand—”

“These kids—” she showed her the slip of paper “—these kids are not cowards. And they are children. How are they braver than us? What has happened in their lives that have made them so brave?”

Tamaya pushed her fist away from her face. Georgia had accidentally put the paper on her to just below his nose.

She looked into Tamaya's eyes and realized that many things had happened to her in her life that had made her brave. Because yes, Tamaya was brave for the sole fact of her existence.

Tamaya was born with wings, which although Georgia found them wonderful, for her they were the constant reminder of everything that was “wrong” with her. Her parents despised her, she lived locked in a cage, like...

Like a bird.

But Tamaya was not a bird. Or a monster, as she called herself. She was none of those things. She was a woman.

And a brave one. Georgia wished she could see herself the way she saw her. 

No, there was nothing wrong with Tamaya. Who was wrong was the rest of the world.

And that world was so different from the one Georgia had created when she was little. One that writhed in pain and hurt whoever dared to help it. Georgia was so scared of pain.

But she was more afraid of continuing being the coward in the story.

Coward. Coward. Coward.

Last night, intoxicated by the smell of vanilla and the taste of freedom, it had seemed easy. As if giving the notebook back to a child was going to make the difference the world needed at that moment.

However, as the effects of adrenaline left her body and Hugh began to speak more and more, she realized that things were more complicated than she had initially imagined. That a simple act of kindness was not going to take away the suffering from the world in which she lived. She wished it did though. I want to help you, but I'm not sure how.

Was she going to have to take the pain for the world?

Coward. Coward. Coward.

She turned to see her friend again. “Tamaya, I want to stop being a girl,” she whispered, taking her by the shoulders. “I want to stop being a coward that hides in her own imaginary world.”

Tamaya grabbed her wrists. “And what do you want to be then?”

“I want to be a woman,” she replied. “One that goes out into the real world and does something to save it.”

She nodded. Georgia decided to venture out to ask her a new question. “What do you want to be, Tamaya?”

Tamaya held on tighter to her.

Although she wasn't hurting her Georgia wondered if she was holding her tighter so she wouldn't hurt herself. “I just know I want to stop being a monster, Georgia.”

Georgia wrapped her in a hug. Tamaya reciprocated by surrounding her with her wings.

Yes. This is better than a hug.

Then a putrid smell suddenly hit her. She discreetly sniffed Tamaya's body. It wasn't her.

Good. She wasn't quite sure where she could have found a soap that could remove that.

"What’s that smell?" she asked.

There was a foam plate right behind her friend. Georgia broke away from the hug and took the foam plate in her hands. She opened it, and the retching she felt was enough to make her realize that it had been a horrible decision.

The smell was of rotten fried rice. “Tamaya!” she screamed “Why do you have this here? It's disgusting.”

Tamaya came up behind her and closed the foam plate. The scent lingered in her nostrils still, but Tamaya seemed unaffected. “It is my reminder.”

She sounded so distant, so empty...

Had she sounded like that?

She put the foam plate at the other end of the room quickly. When she returned, Tamaya was sitting on the mattress, hugging her legs. Georgia took Molly and held her out. Tamaya took her doll and put it on her lap.

Georgia sat next to her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Tamaya shook her head. She undid one of Molly's braids and started doing it again. “Give me ideas.”

“Ideas for what?”

“Ideas for what I could be. I don't know anything else.”

Georgia undid Molly's other braid. “How about... being a superhero?”

[drjackandmissjo]

Roses are Red, Tattoos are Forever

Chapter 2 --- previous chapter --- next chapter

Feysand Masterlist

The lies we tell at coffee shops

A bad text arrives and ruptures the quiet calm of the day A bad decision can destroy their friendship and both of them for that matter

Her screen lit up abruptly. The phone vibrated on the couch. Both of them froze with chopsticks in mid-air: Feyre about to put them down to grab another bite and Rhys with noodles escaping from his, falling back into the bowl.

She froze in fear and immediately looked like a cornered prey.

He froze in rage and immediately got a murderous look on his face.

“I have to answer. I owe it to him.”

“You owe him nothing. Don’t answer.” Rhys’ tone was icy and he was one step away from throwing daggers at the wall in front of him.

She was shaking her head softly: “He might’ve changed. He might’ve realized his mistakes and retorted back into his old self.”

“Don’t you dare trying to make excuses for him. He was horrible for you! Fey, he made you stop working and when you left him you were nothing but skin and bones and a broken soul! Don’t do this to yourself.”

The phone went silent, the screen black once more. The girl was still looking at it, waiting for it to turn on brightly again.

“Fey, please, look at me.”. He was starting to worry, rage passing over to concern.

When she did, her eyes were empty once more. They hadn’t been like that in almost a month.

“You deserve better than him, you know that. Right?”

‘You deserve so much better than that self-centred asshole. And I deserve more than the heartbreaks you’ve caused me. And yet.’ He thought bitterly.

“I’m not so sure about that. What if...”

“Cut the bullshit.” Rage swept over him again.

Rhys was alright with being only her friend as long as she needed him to be. He was happy to be in her life for as long as she needed him.  Hell, he would’ve been okay with never being able to confess his feelings for her, if that meant that she’d be happy. He would have let her go if he needed to.

But not with Tamlin. Not again with that moron that didn’t realise she was drowning with him and, what’s even worse, didn’t care.

It took her two weeks to confide with Rhys that she would wake up with nightmares in her last period with Tamlin. She died, was tortured, imprisoned, had to kill everyone she cared about. Feyre would wake up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, panicking. She would sprint for the bathroom and empty the content of her stomach every night. She would cry over the toilet. And then she’d go back to bed, like nothing had happened. Tamlin would wake up next to her and ignore her desperate cries for help, until she calmed down herself. He would pretend to be asleep when she came back into the room, but she knew he was awake thanks to the sounds of his breathing.

She hadn’t had nightmares since she left him.

The screen lit up again. A single message.

“I have to answer.” She said, her voice shaking and almost inaudible.

“You don’t have to. I’m begging you, please. Don’t talk to him, ignore him like he did you. Please, Feyre.”. Rhys was panicking. Last time Tamlin and Feyre fought, he had almost hit her. Who knew what could happen if he had the chance to touch her again.

Feyre read the text anyway. “He says he just wants to meet to talk.”. A dark chuck escaped her lips. “He says he’s sorry.”

She sounded tired. She didn’t really believe those words and yet.

“Sorry my ass! ‘Il lupo perde il pelo ma non il vizio’ as the Italians say. The wolf may lose its fur but not his nature, Fey. Don’t fall into his trap again.”

“He doesn’t put traps. At least not for me. Maybe his career imposes him to act a certain way, but with me, he was always sweet and thoughtful and he cared and...”

“MAYBE HE DID ON THE FIRST MONTHS! Maybe he did when you were going through a lot with your sisters and your father and maybe he did everything that was right back then. But he changed soon. His manners got more impulsive and violent. He was psychologically abusing you and you’re going to let him do it all over again! You can’t see it, just because you’re afraid and you got used to having him manoeuvre you as he pleases.”

Hate sparkled off both their eyes: Rhys towards Tamlin; Feyre towards herself and her vulnerability.

The phone screen lit up once more, for another text.

“He says he’s found some old painting material of mine I’ve left at his. He’ll bring them tomorrow at the café we used to hang out at in the beginning. We had our first date there.”

She should’ve sounded hopeful, given the circumstances and the facade she was pulling for Rhys.

Instead, she was regretful, of all the time and tears and self-respect she had wasted on Tamlin.

Instead, she was scared, of how things ended and how they would evolve if they got back together.

Instead, she was tired.

“Really? He’s found something of yours at his after a month? Just now. Wow.”

The level of sarcasm Rhys was serving was stellar. “You know what, Feyre? Do whatever. Go and meet the devil. Fall back in line into his schemes. Let him use you as a pawn on his chessboard. I don’t care.”

He did, however, care. But one cannot reason with a wall, which was exactly what Feyre was pulling up.

Abruptly rising from his seat, he gave her a last look before storming out. She was looking at her plate, hands on either side of it.

“I am not going to babysit you, Fey. But you should just ignore him.”

“Well, then don’t babysit me, Rhysand.”

And on that, he left.

***

That day, Rhys took one hour more to go to work.

The day before, Feyre had her meeting with the Asshole. She hadn’t called or texted since their fight. She hadn’t shown up at her shop, even though she had the appointment in the afternoon.

The night before, Rhys couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned and tossed again, thinking of the love of his life in the arms of her captor. There was no better description. And yet, when the stories would be written, Tamlin would be the good guy, saving a starving-from-affection girl. His temper and bad behaviour would be looked over, for all he did. He will get the girl. And Rhys would be viewed as a bad guy for having fought with the girl when she wanted to get back with the main hero.

That day, Rhys was exhausted. He stayed in the shower until the water turned icy cold and took his time to get ready and get to work. He took his bike since the day was nice. Such a contrast between his turbulent emotions and the clear blue sky.

He didn’t expect her to show up for the next few days. Considering everything, he expected her to close up the tattoo parlour for good. He was bitter and scared of not having her in his life anymore. Mostly he was scared of what could’ve happened to her if she was left at Tamlin’s mercy.

But, as she had said two days earlier: “Don’t babysit me, Rhysand.”. And babysit her he wouldn’t.

He wasn’t expecting anything. After all, it’s better to not damage a broken heart with futile hope.

“Rhys. You’re late. I had brought you coffee and doughnuts, but now they’re cold. The coffee is cold, the doughnuts are gone. Magically disappeared!"

His heart leapt in his throat. He couldn’t believe what happened, but also didn’t want to give away any sign of attention or desperation.

“Overslept. Sorry to disappoint.”, he said coldly and briefly before opening the door to his shop.

The door had to been left open for customers, but also for Feyre to walk right in.

“May I help you?”, Rhys said in a polite work tone.

“You’re pissed at me?”, she asked, even though the answer was clear as day.

“I am not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do and I suppose you do too.”

He started putting everything in order, making his way through his daily schedule.

“I’m sorry for what I said and what happened. You were right.”

She looked at him with hope in her eyes, but he kept on finding things to be distracted with.

“Keep on going. I am not going to stop you”, he said while cutting dead leaves off one of his plants.

With a slow nod, Feyre began: “It was good in the beginning yesterday. He was there early, waiting for me. He had ordered my favourite coffee and brought brand new supplies that cost more than my house rent, just to keep the scene up. He said all the nice things and did all the right things until I slipped the reasons behind my ‘escape’. He was not pleased to know I felt that way, as one can expect. He was also beginning to get angry, his hands balling into fists and his voice growing dangerous as I told him that I didn’t feel safe in his house. He corrected me, saying it was ‘ours’.”

The look of disgust on her face was priceless as she said the last sentence. Rhys smiled a little.

“I told him that I never want to set foot there in my entire life. He replied that ‘We could go house shopping then, start anew!’. As if that’s what would’ve made me go back to him!”

“You were thinking about going back two days ago, though. What changed?”. Rhys had to know. Rhys had to know if he could build his hopes up once more, or if it was better to become a hermit un on a lonely mountain.

Feyre looked at the ground, trying to focus her thoughts on her shoes. “I don’t really know. I think I had to see him once more, just to know that I’m not the same girl I was when I moved here and when I started dating him. I reacted badly the other day, that’s true. But it was because I was afraid of being that weak again. I’ve grown and archived so much. Besides, I never got to say what I really thought about Tamlin to his face without having to worry he’ll overreact!”

He laughed heartily, before realizing the meaning behind her words and worrying immediately:“Fey, you sure that was a good idea?”

She nodded solemnly. “I told him that if he ever comes close to me again, I’ll immediately go to the police station and fill a stalking case against him. Let his reputation go to hell!”

“Well, what can I say? ‘Hello. The old Feyre can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, cause she’s dead!’”

“Well, yeah! That’s what he made me do!”. They were both laughing now.

Rhys decided to let himself be vulnerable, for once. To test the water where they stood. “I’m really glad you didn’t get back with him.”

“Me too. I think it would’ve killed me if I did.”

They stayed in comfortable silence for a while. The first clients came and went and half an hour later, Rhys asked Feyre:“Don’t you have work to attend to in this beautiful day, Feyre Darling?”

She put a pensive face on:“Maybe, Rhys Dear. Let’s just say I’ve got a client booked that will arrive any minute now. But let’s also say that I’m free for lunch.”

He shook his head softly, a smile broad on his lips. “Fine, I’ll bring you a sandwich when I go to take mine. Happy now?”

“Nah”, she said while hopping off the counter she was sitting on, “I’ll come with you. This way I can both pay and check that you don’t put cheese in my sandwich.”

“That’s a deal”

They shook hands to that. They smiled at each other.

That was both a start and an ending.

[zerolympiustrife]

Can you do yandere yang or blake pleas

Already did Blake, so might as well get to work on Yang.

————————————————————

Anonymous asks: Slay the Dragon! Knight (RWBY)

Yang (writing out “S” and “Dragon!”): There, adjustments have been made. Off I go~!

————————————————————

*Yang and Ruby are watching Jaune fight off against Cardin on a battlefield ring*

Cardin: You can’t defend yourself forever, Jaunie-boy!

Jaune (gritting his teeth): Rgh! *Internally* All I gotta do is wait for him to burn out, then that’s my cue!

Yang (fawning): Hm~…

Ruby: Why isn’t Jaune attacking back at Cardin? *Realization* …Wait, I got it! He’s luring Cardin into a false sense of security!

Yang (smirking): He sure is, Rubes…

*BONG!*

Cardin (staggering): Agh!

Jaune (charging at Cardin): Haaaaaaaa! *Strikes at Cardin and knocks him out of the ring*

Cardin (stumbling off): Gah! Oof! *Fall face-first into the ground*

*Yang bites the bottom of her lip*

Ruby (surprised): Wow! He did it! He- *Notices Yang slowly start to blush* Huh? Yang?

Yang (internally): Ohmygodjusttakeme! Takemetakemetakemetakemetakemevomitbo-

Ruby (yelling): YANG!!!

Yang (snapping out of it): Ah! Huh? What is it, Rubes?

Ruby (smirking): Do…you have a crush on Jaune?

Yang (blushing): R-Ruby!

Ruby: Hey, it’s alright! I won’t tell anybody if you do, and I won’t attempt to compete for his attention against you!

Yang (internally): Oh, Ruby…this is why I love you. You know me so well, you know exactly what to say to soothe me. *Looks over to Jaune lovingly* Which is why I’m gonna make you an aunt~.

Ruby: Hello? Yang? Are you spacing out again? Yang?

*2 hours later…*

*Yang is walking down the hallways, humming to herself, until she hears noises*

???: OW! AGH! RGH! OW!

*Yang raises an eyebrow, runs down the hall to see what’s happening, then comes across Jaune being restrained by Dove and Sky, and being repeatedly punched in the face and stomach by Russel*

Russel (still punching Jaune): This! Is! For! Hu! Mil! I! A! Ting! Our! Lea! Der!

Jaune (coughing up blood): *Gack!* It’s called…urk! Strategising…

Russel (kicks him in the groin): MORE!!! LIKE!!! CHEAT!!! ING!!!

*Dove and Sky let him go, and Jaune falls to the floor, holding his body in pain until he loses consciousness*

Russel (picking him up by his collar): We’re not done with you yet, you piece of trash.

Dove (scared): Um…Russel? I think we should run.

Russel: Why? It’s just Jaune! He can’t do anything against us if he’s in a whole heap of pain!

Sky (gulping): Th-That’s not who we’re t-talking about…

Russel: Ugh. You guys are the worst. C’mon, Jaune hasn’t done anything to-

Dove: WE’RE NOT TALKING ABOUT JAUNE!!!

Russel (being a fucking idiot): Oh, really? Then who’s this person we’re talking about and what’s he or she gonna do to us? Gonna tattle on us? Gonna show ol’ Jaunie-boy here pity? Snap my neck? What’s this person gonna- *Starts sweating* Hoo, is it me? Or did it suddenly get hot in- *Gets grabbed by the back of the neck* HRCK!

Yang (eyes red, with seething, literal burning anger): …You had me at snapping your neck.

*SNAP!*

*Russel hits the floor dead, Dove and Sky starting shaking in fear after seeing their fellow teammate die right in front of them*

Sky (on his knees): P-P-Please, Yang Xiao Long! S-Spare us of our lives! We promise not to go near Jaune e-ever again…! W-We’ll also tell Cardin not to hurt Jaune anymore in the future!

Yang (glaring at the two): …You two…

*Yang grabs the two, snaps Dove’s neck, then Sky’s afterwards, then drops their corpses*

Yang (calming down): …don’t have a future.

*4 hours later…*

*Yang is carrying the bodies inside an adult-sized trash can, then dumps the corpses into a Grimm-infested area. The Grimm take notice of this, walk over to the bodies, then start eating and fighting over them*

Yang (smirking): Eat hearty, boys. *Tosses a heart into the pile then runs off*

*1 hour later…*

*Yang is inside Team JNPR’s room, tending to Jaune*

Jaune (slowly recovering, in bandages): Y-Yang, I’ll be fine. I have a semblance that heals me.

Yang (tending his wounds): Nonsense. You look like you need a hug.

Jaune (smiling): Th-That sounds nice…

*Yang gets on the bed and embraces him*

Yang (patting his head): Just let mama Yang handle everything~…

Jaune (blushing): Th-That sounds a little embarrassing…

Yang (concerned): Should I stop?

Jaune (smiling): Did I say that?

Yang (blushing): Mmm~… *Internally* Yes! Oh…YES!!! YES!!! Words cannot describe how badly I’ve wanted this!!! *Eyes slowly start to close*

Jaune (chuckling): Heh. Looks like she fell asleep.

*Ruby peeks her head out the door of Team JNPR’s room*

Jaune (noticing this): Huh?

*Ruby looks at both Jaune and Yang, gives them a thumbs-up, then closes the door*

*The next day…*

Cardin (loudly): ARC!!!

Yang/Jaune (waking up): H-Huh…?

Cardin (angrily): WHERE’S MY TEAM?!? GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!

Jaune (worried): Oh…I don’t even know what he’s talking about…

Yang (shushing Jaune): Sssshhhh…let me handle this. You rest easy now, ladykiller.

Jaune: O-Okay…oh, and Yang?

Yang: Hm?

Jaune (blushing): …Thanks. For what you’ve done for me yesterday.

Yang (blushing): Aw…don’t sweat it, ladykiller. *Blows a kiss to Jaune then leaves* *Internally* YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES!!! He thanked me! He thanked me comforting him! He thanked me for sticking by him for the rest of the night! He thanked me for murdering Team CRDL’s members and feeding them to the Grimm! And now…

Cardin (seeing Yang): You! Bitch! Where’s Jaune?!

Yang (internally, smiling evilly): He’s about to thank me for murder this one in cold blood. Hm…I don’t think I’ll feed him to the Grimm…

Cardin (angrily): Are you deaf or something?! Where is Jau- *Yang grabs his mouth and muffles him*

Yang (glaring at him): I know exactly what to do with you.

*3 hours pass as Yang drags Cardin near a river leading towards a waterfall*

Yang (smirking): Now then… *pins Cardin against a tree*

Cardin (muffled): Mmmph! Mmmph! *Yang unmuffles him* W-What are you going to do to me?

Yang (with empty eyes): The same thing I did to your teammates.

Cardin (eyes widened): Y-Y-You! You murdered my-

*Yang rushes him against a VERY spiky tree branch, impaling him through the heart as he coughs out blood*

Yang (crossing her arms): Maybe you’ll learn not to be such an asshole in the next life. Goodbye, Cardin. I’ll be sure to tell everybody that you died the way you lived: Like a poor excuse of a human being.

*Cardin draws his final breath, Yang slides him out of the branch, then shoves his body into the river until it reaches the waterfall*

Yang (squinting at the now-dead Cardin): Nobody hurts my ladykiller.

*3 hours pass as Team RWBY and JNPR are hanging at the cafeteria*

Yang (spoonfeeding Jaune): Open wide~!

*Jaune obliges, and Yang continues to feed him*

Ruby: Is it me, or has things gotten quieter around her ever since Team CRDL disappeared all of a sudden? It’s at this point, we would watch them bullying any faunus, but they don’t seem to be around!

Pyrrha (concerned): Hm, that’s true…also, Yang, don’t you think you’ve been extra clingy to Jaune lately?

*Yang glares murderous daggers at her, Ruby takes notice of this and takes Pyrrha’s attention away*

Ruby (sliding in): SO! Uh, Pyrrha! What do you love doing for fun? *Looks at Yang, winks at her, then looks back a Pyrrha*

Pyrrha (distracted): Oh! Well, I love to-

Yang (smiling, internally): That’s my baby sister. I love you so much.

Jaune (confused): Huh?

Yang: Now, back to important matters at hand! Open wide, ladykiller~! *Holds up a spoon of food*

[ren-val]

Depeche Mode - The Wheel (another one of my faves) just show me what you can do

“Im gonna do something short“ I said, you know, like a liar. I don’t have enough of these fools. And this time is not as angsty, but at the same time is harsher. I tried to convey all the emotions, and I just... wow, this is the kinda things Depeche Mode makes you do, right?

He was laying down in the bed, the room dark and cold, his hands still marked with the scorching ashes left by angelfire, his soul drained by the sheer magnitude of what he and Valerian had done.

“Ethan?“

His mind was too tired to even register the fact that he was not alone. That he had not been alone in years, that he was not alone when he killed his sire and drank his blood.

“Ethan, please answer me“

There was concern in that voice. The most sincere, sweet and disgusting form of concern. One that made him snarl and shiver. It almost made him puke, but he was no fledgling vampire anymore, if anything, those wild days of rebellion were over.

And it scared the shit out of him.

“What?“ 

He spitted towards the closed door.

He heard a sigh, one that made his heart ache. The sound of fingers touching the door, a forehead against the wood. The sounds of caring. Cloying and smothering and so, so very fragile. They make him feel nausea, and fear, and a thousand other things he wanted to burn and forget.

“I am worried about you. A lot”

Of course he was worried. Valerian was always worried. He didn’t understand why; things were simple. They had killed the wretched old pervert: Ethan had slashed his throat and then Valerian burned him to a crisp with angelfire. Simple. Extremely simple.

“I am fine”

He wasn’t. There was a void. A huge, gaping void where decades of hatred and minutes of joy had lived. It was going to eat his soul whole, but he didn’t care much. He wasn’t given much of a choice when born or raised or embraced, there had always been the desires of others…

“You are not. I know you’re not fine”

There it was, the desire to control, masquerading as caring. He had killed the fucker who had harmed him. And he was fine. He was tired of thinking, and of feeling that now he had no idea what to do and where to go. He was never someone of plans and ideas. That was for those who believed in some shit. Like Valerian.

“Oh yeah? How the fuck do you know?”

He growled and snarled, his eyes stinging from tears he didn’t want to shed. Tears that no one deserved. The old pervert was dead, and it what was mattered. That he had screamed in pain and yelled for mercy … but still dared to claim that all he had done was out of love. Disgusting. Pathetic. Revenge stained by a sliver of weakness.

Weakness, that’s what he felt when Valerian whispered behind the closed door. 

“Because you haven’t called me princess in days”

It was something stupid, small and ridiculous. But the tone in which Valerian spoke was not the whimper of a scorned puppy, but the clear voice of a darkborn. He was not begging for an explanation: he was telling a fact. It was a harsh reminder that, as much as Ethan liked to forget it, Valerian acted different with him.

“Why? Do you miss it? Ok princess, now leave me alone”

Ethan almost retched at the realization that he did not want to say that. He embraced the poison and weightlessness of his own words: he didn’t want Valerian to see him like that. He didn’t want anyone to care about him. He wanted to throw himself at the hands of fate, to give himself up in a plate so he could stop feeling so numb and hurt at the same time.

He heard Valerian sigh 

“Do you really want to be alone?”

It was another stupid question. So, so stupid it made him cry; Ethan did not know what to answer. He wanted to be alone so no one would see his weakness, he wanted to be with someone just to fight them and feel strong, but most of all, Ethan wanted the pain to stop. He wanted to feel as he did before, angry and full of life, eager for revenge and pain and pleasure. Anything but empty.

“I don’t fucking know”

He heard his own voice breaking. Pathetic. He slashed his lips with his fangs, biting down until a bloodied whimper escaped from his mouth. He had his revenge, the fucker was dead, and all he was feeling was emptiness: he had killed his sire, as he had killed other bastards before. But those were the bastards who had accepted him somehow, and it was the man who said that loved him, that had always loved him.

He heard nothing, and for a moment he thought Valerian had left him alone, and instead of feeling relieved, he felt abandoned. And then heartbroken. And then angry at himself for even thinking Valerian would really care for his weakness. He felt the mental lash of insults and hatred flaying his psyche; the names, the humiliations, the violations…

“You don’t deserve this pain”

He raised his face and focused for a moment: Valerian was still behind the door, crying.

“You have not done anything that made you deserve it”

It was just a whisper, but something in those words hit him harder than any scream, than any insult, than any snarl or moan. Ethan tried to speak, but nothing came out but a strangled cry. The taste of his own blood numbing his tongue and his senses. His tears felt like molten light across his cheeks, and for a second he thought they would scar him.

“How do you know?”

In spite of his pain, he stood up, trying to breathe and to stand up as usual, even if everything felt as if made of shattered glass. He barely managed to sit in the bed, looking at the door and trying to not become undone. He wanted to close the door forever; he wanted Valerian to leave, even if he knew that would throw him into a bottomless pit of despair.

“Because you had countless chances to show your true nature, and you have only shown bravery, passion an-”

“NO”

His was the roar of a wounded beast, full of pain and terror. His broken voice even hoarser now more than ever, and his tears falling freely; as if everything in him has been transmuted into pain.

“It was all a lie. All of it. There is no shit like that. I am nothing like that. There is something bad in me. I cannot be loved. I am bad. And weak. And stupid. Worthless. I am worthless and everyone hates me but not if I HATE THEM FIRST”

His last roars were marked by the pain of his nails slashing his own skin. More of his own blood filling the air, now mixed with the holy scent of ashes and the salty tang of tears. he wanted to disappear, but he also wanted to go outside and run. He wanted to open the door and kiss Valerian, and he also wanted to make him go away forever. But instead of that, Ethan cried, each small gesture a source of suffering, all emotions becoming pain. 

“And you are the worst of all, Valerian” He cursed “You care and you listen and you make me think that things can be different. You behave like you’re the best, when you’re the fucking worst that has ever happened to me. I was fine until you decided to come into my life. I was fine until you started to fucking care”

Because that was the main problem, he thought: one day he was a rebel and a jerkass, and after one night he had become a part of something. He had started to think about someone else instead of just going along the motions. In each drop of blood was the realization that this was the first time in his life as an embraced that he had trusted someone who was not the fucking pervert. And that felt awful.

“You can leave if you wish”

Once more, the cold finality of Valerian’s voice startled him. There was the strained tone of tears, and there was no signal that the darkborn had moved. Until the unmistakable sounds of steps turning away from the door caused Ethan to panic; the surge of fear and hatred turning inwards, his inner monologue becoming a tattered mess of pleas and promises. Trembling, he stood up and opened the door aggressively, expecting the worst.

In the middle of the corridor, looking at him through a silent veil of tears, was Valerian. His face marked by sadness and ashes, somehow more angelic and dirty than ever before. The sight almost made Ethan roar in anger, but he was not able, too lost in the look of infinite sadness and worry that marked the face of his companion.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

His question sounded like a whine instead of a proper sentence. But it was sincere, it was the main and almost only thought in his mind. Because he felt as if Valerian did, as if he wanted him gone, as if he didn’t care at all, as if anything Ethan ever did was not good enough. He hated the darkborn, and he also didn’t want him to ever, ever leave.

“I have never hated you Ethan”

“Then why the fuck do you want me to leave?” He scoffed

Valerian shook his head “I do not want you to leave. I want…” He paused for a moment, sighing deeply “I want you to be happy, I want you to be free. I want you to be you”

Ethan looked down, more confused than ever “And who the fuck am I?”

He pressed his back to the wall, all anger and fury dissolving like ash in the rain. All of the things that had happened were barely dawning on his head, his body battered by both battle and emotional onslaught. He asked a question for which he had no answer, not even a simple glimpse of an idea. He looked into the room, seeing the portrait of himself that Valerian had put there in lieu of a mirror, and laughed bitterly.

“Ethan, you are an embraced. Brave, passionate, and courageous.”

“I don’t feel like anything of what you’ve said” He declared “I don’t feel like anything, really. Whoever you’re talking about wanted to live and get revenge on a fucking weirdo who did bad things to him. Me? I have no idea who I am.     Except that I am a worthless son of a bitch who somehow tricked you into this shitstorm”

The void in his heart returned, but subdued and less painful. As if a great weight had been lifted from his chest; and even if the distraught gestured of Valerian made him nervous, he felt way better, even if he felt empty. He said no more, and neither did the darkborn. Instead they just looked at each other, longing for an answer that neither had.

“I do not know what to do to help you” Valerian admitted, as if in pain.

“It’s not like you can actually do it, but...” he wondered, too tired to even gather a coherent thought “I prefer you controlling things, when you are behind all of this, instead of me. At least for now, I’m going cheap”

Ethan opened his arms, both as a way to release and as an invitation, and Valerian took it. They embraced, as closely as they could, still surrounded by confusion and pain and emptiness, but at least together. There were no answers, and a lot of questions in the air, but it felt as if a storm had been pushed for another day. A catastrophe averted by virtue of exhaustion on one part, and compassion on the other.

“We better try to sleep, it is almost dawn and you have been going around since sundown”

“Sure. Just… drive, pull my strings, tell me what the hell to do. I don’t know anything, except that I am yours to keep, princess”

Valerian sighed, almost smiling, and in their shared embrace, carried him to bed.

[jj-ktae]

Game Five : Hoping

Title : Survival Games Genre : AU, Angst, Fluff, Romance Pairing : Taeyong x You (reader) Summary : A deserted island and no hope left. There is only despair and this boy, Lee Taeyong, who seems to be the only survivor. You both were on the flight KAL134, from Auckland to Seoul. Words : 3592

- Teaser - Discovering - Sharing - Thinking - Accepting -

--

Game Five : Hoping

Taeyong gets a little bit better, at least that’s what he wants you to believe. He seems to walk faster and faster every time you turn around to check on him. In reality, he knows his wound is now leaking with puss, and there’s nothing he can do to make it better.

You do your best not to panic every time he falls asleep, and you often find yourself touching his chest in hope it’s still moving. Taeyong acts like he doesn’t notice, even when you wake him up in the middle of the night because you can’t hear him breathe.

You can’t help it. You’re no doctor, but you know enough not to believe that his wound would heal by itself overnight. It makes you feel awful but at the same time, it gives you strength. You don’t know where it comes from, but it makes you feel like jumping around, climb trees and even make fire.

You transform into bloody Crocodile Dundee, not even scared of spiders anymore. You are now daring enough to touch these huge worms that are full of protein. Taeyong is glad that you finally get a grip and takes a little bit of his knowledge.

He wants you to be able to handle things on your own once he won’t be here anymore.

He tells you all he knows but he wants to do it in a way that wouldn’t make you freak out. He knows it’s almost a farewell, because his temperature is rising and his heart is getting crazier.

The infection is making him too weak to even stand up some days, but he must act like he isn’t exhausted.

So, he blames it on the fever when he holds you a bit too tight, one night. You’re sleeping by his side and the pain is killing him but he can’t risk waking you up, so he turns around to hug you. You're fidgeting, and he smiles when you mumble something about hamburgers and pizza. He nuzzles your neck and it muffles his pitiful noises, the ones that contract every muscle and make him sweat with agony.

“Are you okay…?” He hears you whisper when he finally finds a good position, and it takes all the willpower he has not to cry.

Instead, he nods.

“Do you want some water?” You continue, your arm wrapping around his shoulder in a protective manner. “You didn't eat today.”

Of course, he can’t. He feels like throwing up every ten seconds.

You wait for him to answer, but he says nothing. You feel him contract against you and when you sigh, ready to get up, he finally lets out the first words he can come up with.

“I want you to hold me.”

Now, it's unusual. Taeyong never mentioned anything about holding. He always pretended it was a simple way to survive in the cold, but never did he ask for you to hold him like he wanted it.

“You’re not okay.” You sigh, but still, you move around so you can face him. Your body sticks to his own and your cheek is now rubbing against his scalp. “You won’t get better, right?”

Taeyong doesn’t want you to freak out. At the same time, he can’t lie to you until he passes out. Infections are tragic, they take over a body in a matter of weeks, days even. A lot of his comrades had to give up because of bad wounds getting infected in the middle of a mission.

“It can’t get better without a proper treatment.” His answer isn’t surprising. You figured it out on your own when you saw him clean his puss-stained tee-shirt the other day.

It doesn’t mean you accept the situation, and Taeyong feels you inhale, before a sob leaves your mouth.

He instantly lifts his head, the ghost of a smile illuminating his sleep-deprived face. “Don’t cry.”

You snort, eyes bloodshot and wet with tears. “What do I do once you’re dead?” He doesn’t have the answer to that, this you know. Taeyong acts like it’s not a big deal, and you wonder if he knows how dramatic the situation is. “How can you act like it’s nothing?”

Taeyong tries to find a better position, one that would let him look at you properly without feeling like someone is ripping his insides. “Because there’s nothing we can do.” His tone is dreadful yet devoid of sadness.

“Still, can’t I be a little bit sad?” You almost ask for his permission, and Taeyong tries to laugh at how adorable he finds you, right now.

“You will be fine on your own,” He starts, grabbing your hand when you gasp, bewildered. “You can find food, you have water, and you can even make fire!” He plays with your fingers, his eyes avoiding yours yet stealing glances from time to time.

You pull your hand out of his, your head shaking because Taeyong is totally not getting it. “It doesn’t mean you can die. I don’t want you to die!”

It’s infuriating. Taeyong helped you all this time, never complained, saved you, did everything he could to make the situation more bearable. “Maybe it’s a matter of survival or I don’t know, but there’s only us now. As silly as it sounds, you’re important to me!”

It makes Taeyong freeze. He closes his eyes, the words a little bit too strange to hear.

It pleasing. It’s fucking pleasing to hear someone say that. He doesn’t know why, how, or even when, and maybe it’s the fever, but you’re suddenly so important, too.

He chuckles, his voice higher than usual and right now, he wants to cry and thank you. “Too bad we met on this island, then.” He laughs now, and you can only shake your head, helpless. “I would have loved to feel important.” He finishes, his hand now on your cheek. “Thank you.”

You rub your nose, “Don’t you dare die now.” You warn, praying gods you thought never existed. “Don’t fall asleep. I’m terrified that you would never wake up.”

“I’m not dead yet.” Taeyong snorts, his fever turning him into a way too confident man. “I’m stronger than that.”

The silence that follows leave you pensive. You don’t know why, but somehow, nothing matters here. Come to think of it, Taeyong is a stranger, a guy you met after a plane crash. Until a couple of weeks ago, he was no one. You were, maybe, even sitting close to each other in the plane, without even noticing the other.

What kind of disastrous life did he live to think of him as someone who was never cared for? You can’t blame him though, you feel the same, abandoned in the middle of a way too demanding family and obligations. You ran away, unable to face the consequences of living in a wealthy family. Taeyong survived all this life, the same way you did.

But something makes you think that he had it harder than you thought.

That’s why you burst out in tears, thinking about how he was about to die while struggling, again.

“Wow, calm down.” Taeyong pleads, wincing when a tiny rock rubs against his irritated skin.

“It’s so unfair,” You start, hiccupping. “You don’t deserve this! Oh my god, it’s my fault. I should have helped from the start instead of relying on you and complaining. I’m so sorry Taeyong, I’m so so sorry.” You’re so pitiful, with your runny nose and pouting mouth.

But Taeyong only rolls his eyes, sighing. “You’re so dramatic.” He doesn’t know why he speaks this way. He doesn’t even know where he is anymore, anyways. “Don’t thank me. I just didn’t want to be all alone.”

Taeyong hates being alone. There was a time when he loved it, but now the mere thought of being on his own freaks him out. He wanted everything to stop, that’s why he was going back home. He was willing to forget about every struggle in order not to feel lonely anymore.

“I’m here so don’t die.” You whine, hoping it would somehow make him stand up and run like nothing happened. You hug him closer, his body too warm to be healthy.

There’s nothing else you can do. There’s a thousand way to thank someone usually. You offer them a gift, you do them a favour, you pay for a good restaurant. Here you have nothing, nothing except yourself and dirty soil.

So you hope you can communicate with your body instead. Maybe being held means nothing usually, but here everything is multiplied by a hundred.

Taeyong feels it and hugs you back, smiling. He whispers a soft thank you, and falls asleep.

You don’t sleep a wink, a hand always on his chest in case he stops breathing.

--

Taeyong wakes up. It’s late, but he does. You’re busy looking for fruits when he opens his eyes, the light too strong for him.

He tries to sit, and you let everything fall when you notice he is moving. Your body is still shivering from a fear you know will be constant from now on.

“How are you feeling?” You’re by his side, holding him by the elbow. Taeyong shrugs, and you understand your question is stupid. You try to change the subject.“There’s a tiny river three minutes from here. I'll go wash up, want to come?”

Taeyong grimaces, but he can only agree. Maybe cold water will ease the pain.

You help him stand up and put his arm around your shoulder, doing your best to remember which way it was. Taeyong finds the situation oddly funny, because you seem to be struggling so much. You don’t say a word though, too busy carrying his body. He doesn’t even notice the way he staggers, his legs getting weaker and weaker.

“There you go.” You sigh when you find the river, before walking faster until you’re close enough to let Taeyong sit. “Maybe you shouldn’t go into the water, the wound would get dirtier.”

“It can hardly get worse.” Taeyong pulls on his clothes and starts taking them off, all the while hissing and cursing whenever his body cannot handle the movements.

You can’t deny the fact that he is right, and you aim for the water with heavy steps. You take your own clothes off and rush into the water, not as bothered as you used to be when you first had to do it in front of Taeyong.

The water is freezing as the seasons transits to colder days. It’s painful yet it always makes you feel better. You look at the floor, visible under clear water.

You turn around when you hear Taeyong yelp, and you laugh at his shivering state. You try not to pay attention to his wound and how pale he looks.

“Are you okay?” You swim away from him as he nods, the tip of his hair getting wet. “Don’t move too much.”

Taeyong seems to be flitting into the water, his body carried by relief. It hurts yet it feels like he weights nothing. He follows, his face torn and jaw clenched. “It’s damn cold.” He admits after a while, his lips almost turning purple.

You swim toward him, “Stay around there, it’s rather deep where I am.” He stops his movements and sits in the water, half of his chest out in the open.

His wound is not pretty to see.

His eyes go from your figure to his own abdomen, before he dips further into the river. “Stop staring.” he suddenly gets conscious. He knows it’s about the wound, but he isn’t used to you looking at his body.

He feels ridiculous.

You look away, ashamed. You stay in the water for a while, not caring about things that graze against your legs. The day is still young, yet you feel like it’s going to last forever. Taeyong goes out of the water when he decides he needs to rest. He stays by the river, waiting for his body to dry. The wound seems cleaner, but you know it’s just an illusion. The skin is red and crackling and a deep shade of purple surrounds the cut.

When you have enough of staring, you speak, “Maybe we could clean this…”. You swim back at full force, before going out of water.

Taeyong blinks from his spot against a tree. His head is tilted, and his body is unmoving. You take your own tee-shirt and it doesn’t take much pulling for it to tear in two. Thank god you also have a sweater.

“Let me grab some clean water.” You run back to where you had left your food and drinks, and run back after a while, breathless. You’re still in your underwear, but it’s not even important anymore.

“It’s going to hurt,” you soak the piece of clothing with boiled water, “Let’s try to clean the inside.” You observe the braided basket made by Taeyong. "It's better than nothing."

Taeyong sighs, not ready at all. “Let’s not. It’s not going to change anything.” You’re not about to let it slide though, and he tries to move away when you approach him. He has never let you touch or do anything about the wound, explaining there was nothing you could do.

“Come on, I’m sure it could help. It’s better than let the puss gush out of it.” It’s disgusting to see the brownish liquid already drip. You might not be an expert, but you do know a wound has to be cleaned, no matter how.

Taeyong gives up, his arms falling by his sides. He wants to tell you to rest instead of trying to heal him, but you seem so determined. You make a face as you press on the wound, wiping the unwanted fluid and pressing the flesh to empty it. Taeyong grunts lowly, his abs contracting and hand reaching for the ground to grip it.

You can only apologize, your eyes filling with tears because it’s never pleasing to inflict pain. You apply water on the wound and proceed to rub the torn piece of clothing again. Taeyong’s hand instinctively goes to yours to stop the movements, and it’s like a silent cry of help because he is close to collapsing.

He almost crushes your forearm when you rub the wound one last time and add water, finally satisfied. Taeyong is breathing heavily by the time you’re done, and you look up at his devastated face with timid eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You regret doing it, but you want to believe it can help in any way. The wound does seem cleaner now, even though it’s still awfully purple. You grab Taeyong’s tee-shirt so you can put it back on his body and help him sit.

He is motionless against the tree, breathless, but he forces a smile upon seeing the pain all over your face. “I’m fine.” He murmurs, his throat dry. He waits for a moment, avoiding your eyes as you check on him, before talking again. “You should get dressed.”

Your hands unconsciously reach for your shoulders as you get up and hurry toward your forgotten clothes.

And as you both struggle to go back to your makeshift camp, you hope Taeyong will stay alive for another day.

--

This jungle is everything you hate. It’s full of everything except what you want to find. Food is barely present now that Taeyong can only lay down, all day. Still, you do your best, you keep running around, but your strength slowly goes away, along with your sanity.

You try to keep a straight face in front of the poor boy, but whenever you find yourself alone for personal matters, you choke on your own tears, desperate to find a little comfort.

Even wiping yourself gets hard as the nature does nothing but irritate your now awfully bitten skin.

You walk for another week. You think it’s a week, your sense of time totally not sharp enough to distinguish and count the days. Taeyong stays the same, mostly because you try to feed him non-stop. His wound doesn’t get worse, and the puss is still present, which makes you clean it from time to time. It’s awfully painful for him but he says nothing, and waits for you to be finished, every time a little bit more exhausted.

You try everything you can when the pain gets too high. You have no medical supply, and you can only hug him until he calms down, his raging breath signalling he is on the verge of fainting. He welcomes your warmth, blaming himself for being so weak yet thanking you for being so caring.

Taeyong becomes needier. You think it’s because he knows what is happening inside his body and you’re right. He acts like he is going to leave anytime soon and grabs the opportunity to ask for more physical contact.

When you ask him, he tells you everything is more painful when he is on his own.

It makes you give him everything he wants, even if it means spend the night against a tree so Taeyong can lean against your chest. He grips your clothes and whimpers whenever his movements send pain into his flesh. His body is constantly burning and his sweaty forehead leaves spots against you when he rubs his face into your clothes.

The days get quieter, slower, calmer.

It’s the middle of another day when Taeyong collapses.

You’re coming back with your hands full of plantains, victorious and proud, only to find him on the floor coughing and motionless. You take a second to understand he isn’t simply resting, and when you do you almost throw everything on the ground, before running toward him.

He is so pale, and his veins are a deep shade of blue under is skin. His eyes are open but unfocused, and he is looking at the sky, mouth opened.

You want to run, cry, yell, but your body is frozen. You’re about to witness a death and nothing prepared you for that, not even Taeyong’s warning about his body getting weaker.

You fall on your knees, too afraid to touch him as he is gasping for air. So this is how you also die or worse, turn crazy.

You can’t make it here; you can’t stay alive long enough to be saved. You’re suffocating, useless in front of Taeyong and the urge to run is stronger than your sore legs. You get up, terrified, and run. You run, fall, hurt your elbow, step on rocks and jump, as long as you don’t see this.

Maybe if you don’t, it’s not going to happen. You might be running in circle but you can’t stop. You cry at full force, not afraid of any potentially dangerous animal, not caring about your lungs burning your chest.

Your head is spinning, everything is blurry and unsure in these woods, and you’re slowly turning into a madwoman. You run faster and turn around in case Taeyong is behind you, but there’s no one.

You gasp when you hit something. You fall with a loud noise, yelling like you’ve run into a lion.

But it’s a guy.

“Holy crap I thought it was a-” he stops when he notices you, his oval face showing nothing but astonishment. “THERE’S A GIRL!” he yells and kneels, while you’re frozen.

Great, now you’re seeing things.

“What?” Another voice yells from afar, and you hear someone approach, before a small guy appears, eyes as round as tennis balls. “There’s a girl?”

The first guy offers a hand, unsure of what to do and apparently as shocked as you are. He sends you a tiny smile when you don’t move. You’re still trying to catch your breath. “Are you okay?” he asks like he is doing just fine in this jungle. “She is shocked.”

The second guy stands now next to him and doesn’t know what to do. He seems as awkward as you if not more, but keeps his mouth shut, a bit taken aback.

It hits you only now. People. Help. They are real. Maybe- wait, Taeyong.

“Someone needs help!” You yell, making the boy stumble on his unsteady feet.

He gets up instantly, leaning to make you stand up. “You were with someone?” he is now as anxious as you. You notice he is way taller than you but you miss the way he looks at his friend, alarmed.

“He is dying. Help us, please.” You beg, hoping they’d be altruistic enough to follow you. When you see the hesitation in their eyes, you tug at the first boy's arm, running back. “Come!”

He lets you drag him with little protest, while the second boy tries to follow. You push all the branches and leaves you can, panting again and hoping you’re not getting lost.

The boys are silent, focused on their legs so they won’t fall, and thankfully the tall guy holds you before you fall again, restless. The second one struggles to follow, and he seems to be marking the trees behind you.

It’s never ending. You finally notice the plantains you threw earlier, and your mouth can’t stay shut anymore.

“Taeyong!” You yell, kneeling and the boys follow.

You look at your saviour but he is staring at Taeyong, on the verge of tears.

The second guy reaches you three, but he is stopped by the first one.

His English is perfect as he mutters, “Mark, go get Doyoung. Right now.”

[y-not-loki]

I’ll Be Good | Bucky B.

Anon asked: I'll be good from Jaymes Young with Bucky x reader please? Thanks for sharing your writing, you are amazing!

(sure thing lil anon, and thank you so much! I do try my best when it comes to writing) (I’m so sorry about this, there’s a little bit of saltiness towards Steve and I swear I don’t hate him)

Warnings: N/A (character death?)

I thought I saw the devil This morning Looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue With the warning To help me see myself clearer I never meant to start a fire I never meant to make you bleed I'll be a better man today

Bucky was panting, on the other side of the boxing ring that Tony had set up for them to fight in. That was the only place where they allowed no mercy against each other.

A flash of something dangerous appeared behind his eyes and he spat out the blood and spit in his mouth, before lunging at (Y/N).

He moved like a polar bear, large and dangerous, smart but heavy.

She moved like a snake, quick and sharp, small but powerful.

The fight was over quickly, Bucky having pinned (Y/N) down on the floor in a position that was hardly comfortable.

Silence was a comfortable thing between one who was healing, and one who was always thinking.

Silence was also a weight pressing against their relationship. Bucky never told her when he had a nightmare. Bucky never told her when he was about to turn into Winter. Bucky never told her how truly broken he was.

Now, he stood in front of a mirror. A reflection that wasn’t his stared back. Long, limp hair. Cold, merciless eyes. Lips parted slightly.

The edges of his vision blurred, and he couldn’t help the tears that formed in the corners of his eyes.

Who was he? Who did he used to be? He didn’t mean to turn into a monster, he didn’t want to kill all those people. He didn’t mean to hurt you.

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the time That I never could

The first time (Y/N) and Bucky met they’d been in the midst of a battle. He had shot her. And she’d been angry.

He’d put her in hospital, half dead, and the only people who brought her back were Shuri and Helen Cho, Bruce and Tony had been the ones to bring these two people together to bring back someone so pure.

She woke Bucky up. She reminded him so much of Steve, small and feisty, but uncontrollable and a wild card because she never gave up. In this new world, even Steve was different. Sure he was still buff, and still strong, but he was... he was expectant. As if he was looking for someone that Bucky wasn’t. He was looking for the old Bucky. But that Bucky died.

At least he knew that Steve couldn’t help it, Steve was only looking for someone who shared his memories, someone who he had been the closest to.

“I’ll be good.” Bucky whispered, rolling the words around his mouth, as if trying on a new outfit for his mentality. “I’ll be good for all the times that I was bad.” He whisper. (Y/N) had taught him that phrase. She’d taught him to forgive himself. She’d taught him that it wasn’t his fault, when the man wearing Steve’s skin couldn’t. Steve still cared, but he cared for someone else.

And it hurt that he couldn’t accept that Bucky wasn’t that man anymore.

My past has tasted bitter For years now So I wield an iron fist Grace is just weakness Or so I've been told I've been cold, I've been merciless But the blood on my hands scares me to death Maybe I'm waking up today

A million memories flashed across his mind as he stumbled into the community living room. He needed her. Her soothing hands, and healing voice, he needed her to hold him and reassure him.

“Bucky?” Her soft, lilting voice approached him slowly as his vision blurred. “Come with me.” Her voice hardened, and she guided him towards her room. Laying him down on her bed, she made sure he was comfortable and then leaned down to kiss his forehead, which was coated with a sheen of sweat. “Talk to me, Buck.” She whispered.

“I couldn’t help it.” He whimpered, eyes closing without his eyelids moving. “They died. They died because of me. Because of... because of this.” He gestured towards his metal arm, and started to pull on it, but (Y/N)’s soft hand on his flesh arm stopped him.

“And you were not in control. Hydra had you under its control. You may not be better now, but you are Bucky, you are not Winter.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” Bucky whispered, and (Y/N)’s lips turned upwards.

“Then you won’t hurt anyone. You are in control of what you can and cannot do.” She brushed his hair out of his face. “And I will support whatever decision you make.”

“Thank you.” Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for keeping me afloat. Thank you.

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should I'll be good, I'll be good I'll be good, I'll be good

“First thing’s first, I’ll teach you to love life again.” She told him, they sat in the indoor garden that Bruce kept as a hobby. “Tell me what you see.”

“Beauty.” He told her, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stared at her and nothing more. She let out a light peal of laughter, and shook her head.

“No Buck, and whilst I am alive, I want you to show me what you think is beautiful in this garden, what you think is worth living for.”

“You....” He whispered, and she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder, his metal one.

“Love the surroundings, not the company. Love the world. Love the life on this planet. Show compassion for things that are permanent, not temporary. All humans will wilt out.” She looked at him with sorrowful eyes as he bundled her up in his arms. “I love you too, Buck, but you’ve for the Super Soldier serum, or some variety of it. You won’t age like I will. You won’t grow old and die like I will. Your regenerative cells will keep you going until the end.”

“I know.” He whispered. “But the pain is worth it.” He ran his metal fingers through her hair and reveled in the way that she didn’t flinch away from a weapon of destruction.

For all of the light that I shut out For all of the innocent things that I doubt For all of the bruises I've caused and the tears For all of the things that I've done all these years And all Yeah, for all of the sparks that I stomped out For all of the perfect things that I doubt

“So how have you been going with lesson one?” (Y/N) asked, the conversation from two days ago still on her mind.

“I’ll learn to love the world and life for you.” Bucky responded quietly, not looking up from where he was... sketching something? Steve must have taught Bucky how to draw and funnel his emotions through there. “I’ll learn to love life to repent for my sins, for the light that I have shut out, for the innocents I’ve killed, for the bruises I’ve given, and tears I’ve caused. I’ll learn to life to avenge those who died at my hands because of Hydra, I’ll relight the fires that I stomped out. I’ll live for you perfection and kind heart.”

“Wow Buck, when’d you come up with that one?” (Y/N) was mildly shocked, but from what Steve had told her, Bucky used to be charming and kind, and maybe it was starting to show through.

“I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking. Would the people who I killed want me to live? What about their living family? I mean, Tony went all destructo-bot on me when he found out I killed his-” Bucky cut himself off, choking on his own words that cut through him like a hot knife. He finished the sentence softly, “When he found out I killed his parents.”

(Y/N) placed her hands on both his shoulders, and bent down to look him in the eyes. “You.” She started firmly. “Did.” SHe squeezed his shoulders gently. “Not.” Bucky’s eyes flickered up to hers, where she was staring at his unnervingly. “Kill.” His eyes flickered up again, and then stayed there, taking in the burning fire in them. “Them.” She practically growled. He didn’t know if she was angry at him, or Hydra, or just angry in general.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) took her hands off him and stepped back. “Hydra killed them, not you.”

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the times I never could, oh, oh-oh Oh, oh Oh, oh-oh For all of the times I never could All of the times I never could

Bucky had a lot of pent up hatred directed towards Hydra, but he didn’t know how it could just destroy him from the inside like this.

They had killed her.

They had killed his life.

They had killed his love.

He couldn’t feel anything, nothing but hatred and pain. And sometimes he believed he never would feel again.

He would never feel until he destroyed Hydra, painfully and intimately, in a way that they would never forget, and if there were any survivors, they’d fear for the day that the Winter Soldier turned on them again.

But he’d live. He promised his (Y/N), and he wouldn’t wrong her in such a way, not when she was gone now.

[summerseachild]

Summersea’s GoT Season 6 Tumblr Spoiled First Time Watch 2019: Part 1

So I was going to rename this a “hatewatch” now that I’ve gotten to a whole season I hadn’t seen before, but let’s be honest. If you’ve seen me reblogging things from later seasons, it was never going to be that. There are things that I knew I was going to enjoy VERY MUCH, and I wasn’t wrong. There were also things that, if I let them, would have had me frothing a the mouth in rage. 

But then I reminded myself that I’m vacationing in Castle Not Giving a Shit while I watch the back half of the show, and things were much better after that. I’ve mostly left my in the moment reaction except where I’d had too much wine to be coherent.

Season 6

Hot on the heels of season 5 i still have a third of a bottle of Chardonnay left let’s DO THIS

6x01

1. Lol it’s still in the credits so they continue to pretend like they care about Dorne????

2. Ghost howling 😢😢😢

3. So Davos went straight from staning one dour person to another... he has a type.

4. Some dude in the night’s watch re Melisandre: who’s she? Davos: oh just some lady Who spat a shadow out of her vag once LETS TRUST HER

5. Wow Olly aged a lot over the past five minutes since he killed Jon!

6. Edd please don’t die here. I don’t remember how you go but don’t let it be here

7. Boo hoo poor little psychopath lost his gf. No one cares, Ramsay. Myranda deserved what she got AND SO WILL YOU

8. My soul left my body like three times during that chase scene where Theon and Sansa are running from the Bolton men. POOR COLD BBS

9. That hug where they’re just CLINGING TO EACH OTHER THIS SHOULD NOT MAKE ME SHIP IT BUT HERE WE ARE

10. THEON SHOWING HIMSELF TO TRY TO KEEP HER SAFE I CANNOT HE KNOWS WHAT IT MEANS IF THEY CATCH HIM AND HE DOES IT ANYWAY SO SHE MIGHT HAVE A CHANCE 

11. IT’S BRIENNE OF MF-ING TARTH OMG YAY

12. Also go Theon killing that dude

13. UGH THE SWEARING FEALTY SCENE WITH SANSA AND BRIENNE AND ALL OF THEIR FACES AND SANSA LOOKING TO THEON BEFORE ACCEPTING AND POD REMINDING HER OF THE WORDS IT IS PERFECT 

14. Give me the AU where Theon lives and stays at Winterfell because he wants to be near her and they understand each other and Brienne is in her Queensgiard I AM NOT ASKING MUCH

15. Meanwhile in other trauma hi Cersei

16. UGH LOOK HOW SHE RUNS ACROSS THE COURTYARD TO SEE HER DAUGHTER

17. So... that scene with Jaime and Cersei where they talked about seeing Joanna’s dead body and she... Doesn’t blame him??? For Myrcella? Like I thought she would??? And she tells him about the prophecy??? And they hug??? Yeah that’s in contention for my fav Lannister twin scene ever? Top five at the very least. (And another member of the “Jaime writes his siblings’ dialogue” club.)

18. For all of his false kindness and gentleness the High Sparrow is just as bad as any of them, and When I’m not seething with anger I can appreciate how nuanced Jonathan Pryce’s performance is.

19. Wtf Ellaria and Tyene murdering Doran.

20. OMG TRYSTANE and I call Sand Snake Character Assassination here they are just SO BITCHY and without honor and the Dorneish are SO HONOR OBSESSED ugh why I hate it Also was that Myrcellas ship? Are there two bitchy Sand snakes just chilling in king’s landing now?? 

21. Tyrion and Varys among the people is kind of fascinating. Also what’s up with that Red Priest? Another who thinks the lord of light chose Dany?

22. Oh no the ships... Varys and Tyrion running TOWARD trouble says a lot about them.

23. Did the showrunners... forget Jorah would know the word Khalasar? Why would he say horde?

24. At least the Khals believe Dany is Drogo’s widow?

25. Ok so the waif is fascinating and her movements are just so... Succinct. A++ physical acting or whatever the word is.

26. Whoa that’s Melisandre without the necklace?? Cool story bro but why did she choose then to take it off? What does that tell us about her as a character or her powers? Just wanted to show some crone boobs? IDEK that was a weird ending.

6x02

1. The trailer reminds us that BRAN IS IN THIS SHOW

2. Remember this kid? He’s a Stark! He’s VERY IMPORTANT! He’s GONNA BE KING, but he wasn’t in all of season 5. He matters WE PROMISE.

3. The older generation of Starklings!!! I would be lying if I didn’t say seeing Lyanna and Brandon and Ned and Benejen And Nan and bb Hodor didn’t give me a LOT of feelings. (Also Bloodraven is the Worst Ghost of Christmas Past Ever.)

4. Cross fandom wish: I want to see Hodor, Groot, and Rocket have a conversation where everyone understands every word.

5. So... Meera and Summer have been hunting so that they all stay alive, right?? Otherwise WHAT ARE THEY EATING

6. Ok I take back what I said about them only having the Children once, but that was WEAK. “Help Bran, Meera. Because I said so and I’m a creepy magical person whose motivations are unclear”

7. YEAAAAAH WUN WUN SMASH THOSE TRAITORS. Good on you too Edd for taking charge.

8. Ugh every bar has one like that asshole talking about Cersei. And I don’t think he’s long for this world

9. I LOVE BEING RIGHT HI GREGOR

10. Why would Tommen keep Cersei away from Myrcella’s funeral. OH GODS HE WAS TRYING TO PROTECT HER.

11. Ugh Jaime is tired of keeping vigil over his dead family members GIVE HIM A BREAK

12. Also Jaime promising never to let Cersei be in a cell again while he’s there AAAAHHH YES 🦁 ❤️

13. There’s nothing more dangerous than a fanatic who fears nothing, Jaime. But him threatening the High Sparrow was made of sex.

14. SEVEN HELLS did Tommen just give Cersei the idea to blow up the sept

15. Dany’s council meeting in absentia is kind of neat. I was wondering how those crazy kids were doing. 

16. Lol I drink and I know things is ABOUT TYRION KNOWING ABOUT DRAGONS 🐉 I DID NOT KNOW THAT AND I LOVE IT

17. Tyrion being like “please DO NOT EAT THE ALLIES (me)” to Viserion and Rhaegal is amazing

18. Viserion is all ME TOO LET ME GO HERE’S THE CHAIN SMALL HUMAN when he shows Tyrion his neck.

19. That was a rough test Jaqen

20. Yes Ramsay please march North I dare you

21. Roose KNOWS what Ramsay is and tries to steer him out of it but I don’t think he truly understands how deep the crazy goes

22. HOLY SHIT RAMSAY JUST STABBED HIS DAD and everyone either is too scared of Ramsay to do anything about it or was in on it. LOOKING AT YOU KARSTARK ASSHOLE

23. Oh Walda you sweet trusting soul he is going to feed you and your baby to those dogs isn’t he. I DON’T like being right. Have I mentioned that?

24. Brienne recognizing Sansa’s choices were hard ❤️❤️

25. Ugh Theon talking about all the things he’s done and Sansa hugging him anyway aaaaah my soul

26. It’s hard to hear someone else say they forgive you you when you don’t think you deserve forgiveness, and he’s definitely not ready to hear it from Jon. (But he’s ready to hear it from Sansa because of what they’ve been through together? I like that explanation and I’m sticking to it.)

27. Oh right Pyke exists the show doesn’t remember that unless it’s convenient.

28. HOW DARE YOU REFERENCE THAT PINECONES LINE SHOW YOU HAVE NOT EARNED THAT

29. Ok at least Yara cares about her people and we get to see it.

30. OMG Euron? He’s the one who kills Balon?

31. ...and he’s kind of got delusions of Grandeur? “I am the drowned god” wtf sir.

32. Gotta admit Iron Islands burial customs are kinda neat

33. We get the Kingsmoot? I’m listening, show... you’re on notice but I’m listening.

34. Depressed Melisandre is depressed. Wait... has she never done the raising from the dead thing? SEVEN HELLS SHE HASN’T.

35. A pep talk from Davos might snap me out of my crisis of faith too.

36. Thoros can do this in the language of Westeros, but I guess if Valyrian works for you...

37. I love Tormund peacing out of the room with Mostly Dead Jon like “I have had enough of this south of the wall bullshit”

38. Did Melisandre reach the lord of lights answering machine and it took him a while to get back? “If you would like to leave a resurrection request for R’hllor, please press one...”

39. Ghost’s eyes open AND SO DO JON’S hey bro

6x03 this episode is called Oathbreaker ARE WE ABOUT TO GET TO SEE THE FLASHBACK TO JAIME KILLING AERYS PLZ TELL ME

1. He liiiives! Poor Jon... what did you see while you were gone I wonder?

2. Oh jeez it was nothing. At least he has the most comforting sensible person in this series to help him through.

3. I like that Jon gets to come downstairs and HUG TWO OF HIS FRIENDS and none of the nights watch or the wildlings bat an eye or seem to think less of him for it. LET MEN HUG. 

4. Oh jeez Sam’s taking Gilly and the baby to Horn Hill? Do we get to meet his mom? (No one cares about Randylll but I think we might get to meet him too?)

5. BB Sam is SO CUTE HE HAS HAIR NOW.

6. Wait is Gilly pregnant again?

7. That is the Tower of Joy and I AM NOT READY

8. HOLY SHIT HOWLAND REED KILLED ARTHUR DAYNE?

9. Sword of the morning indeed WHAT A BADASS (somewhere in my soul Jaime is waving an “Arthur Dayne Rocks” banner) there’s no way Ned could have won that fight without help and now Bran knows that??? I don’t really have anything interesting to say here I just love the idea of a kid getting to see the truth of a family story that’s radically different from what he thought he knew.

10. Past Ned HEARD BRAN? FASCINATING?

11. Oh right Dany is about to meet all of the other widows of the Khals this could be cool but knowing d and d it won’t be because it would involve treating WoC with nuance.

12. Not impressed so far.

13. So this girl Varys is meeting with is in league with the Sons of the Harpy? Good my memory is intact.

14. all this with Varys actually TRYING to take care of Meereen is fun...

15. Tyrion being like OMG I AM BORED PLZ TALK ABOUT SOMETHING to Grey Worm and Missandei is the most him thing ever. I feel you Bro. He’s a people person deep down and just wants to be friends so badly.

16. Qyburn with all of Varys’ little birds and making kids’ abusive parents disappear is PRECIOUS.

17. Don’t poke the Mountain, Jaime

18. LANNISTER MUSICAL CHAIRS PART 2 also Jaime is ON THE SMALL COUNCIL NOW??? Who gave book!Cersei three wishes??? Him actually being in her corner and working with her as a team must be like a wish come true...

19. “Grand Maester Pycelle would you sanction that starement?” 😂 Lena’s delivery of that line made me laugh so hard we had to rewind to hear the dialogue.

20. No no don’t leave the three of them together they’ll plan murder. Well, Cersei and Jaime will. Gregor will nod.

21. Tommen confronting the high sparrow fascinated me. He has some of the I WILL KILL YOU family traits on display here but it’s understandable given what his family has gone through at the high sparrows hand. I’d be threatening murder too if I were him.

22. What are you playing at mr high Sparrow? Because I don’t trust you farther than I can throw you, and I don’t even have a good arm.

23. The Hound was not on her list any more 😢 that whole scene with Arya recounting her life and learning to fight blind is NEAT.

24. Wait faceless men are immune to the poison in the water?? Cool.

25. Is that supposed to be Greatjon Umber’s son who refuses Jon? What an ass.

26. My wife adds, “THESE LOSERS are the people Sansa is supposed to be queen of?”

27. OH SHIT OSHA AND RICKON AND SHAGGYDOG HOW DID THAT EVEN HAPPEN? (Please let Sansa Find out who did that and who helped and give them what they deserve... there’s no way anyone took down that wolf alone.) I HATE THAT WE ARE NEVER GOING TO GET CLOSURE ON THAT PROBABLY.

28. Oh shit Jon has to hang the traitors that’s gonna be hard on him.

29. At least Alliser is consistent.

30. Jon did what he had to do... just like Ned in the first ep.

31. Wait WHAT did you just hang those men and then LEAVE? Isn’t leaving just as damaging to the order as killing the lord commander? That seemed overly quick and weird but ok????

32. Guess Jon was the Oathbreaker.

6x04

1. If anyone deserved an I JUST DIED crisis, it’s Jon. Also, the vows say, “it will not end until my death...” so technically...

2. Brienne got them up to the Wall QUICK. She is nothing if not efficient.

3. Sansa and Jon are like, “so... how cool are we going to play this? NOT COOL AT ALL LETS HUG” so sweet.

4. “Where will WE go?” Yes stay together Starklings because family is important certainly don’t scatter to the four winds or anything 🙄

5. I kind of love that Sansa’s the one who insists on taking back Winterfell and is all “help me or not I’m doing it”

6. I’m Brienne of Tarth and I HAVE A LONG FUCKING MEMORY. Wait... wrong show. (She DOES, though...) 

7. Wow Petyr lying about Sansa being forced to Marry Ramsay... he’s playing the lords of the Vale like a fiddle.

8. That’s a lovely bird he got Robin. What a pretty boy.

9. Missandei staring daggers at Tyrion is Excellent Content. The “Tyrion tries to be a little more diplomatic but this involves dealing with slavers” problem is... a bit oversimplified, but at least they’re addressing it? Still not great. 

10. Jorah and Daario are off on a secret mission and I cant stop hearing the Galavant song.

11. The older widow of the Dosh Khaleen is more interesting than the show will let her be.

12. Is that Lazareen widow Dutch from Killjoys? IT IS!!!!

13. Guess what high Sparrow NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR SELF RIGHTEOUS CONVERSION STORY LEAST OF ALL ME (guess who has some issues with organized religion it’s meeeee)

14. Way to act your heart out, though, Jonathan Pryce.

15. So idk if I’ve made a big deal about this but I’m SUPER QUEER and seeing Loras broken like that made my heart stop for a second.

16. “Not setting off” fanatics, huh Pycelle? I think Cersei has other ideas 😈 🔥

17. Tommen is TALLER THAN CERSEI NOW

18. Cersei and Jaime trying to get Olenna and Kevan on their side against the High Sparrow is... smarter than I thought it was going to be when they walked into that room. They had a united front, they were clearly working together... WHAT IS THIS I LIKE IT

19. Theon looks like a ghost of himself. :( And Pyke looks all creepy.

20. Jeez Yarra go easy on your little brother his psyche still has cracks in it. I guess it’s understandable that she’s pissed given the failed rescue and the timing of his arrival. I kept just waiting for him to say “I want to be home,” when she yelled WHAT DO YOU WANT but he didn’t and that makes me sad. (Home should have been Winterfell or wherever Sansa was just saying.)

21. Oh Osha don’t try it... shit. Well, you tried

22. And Tormund’s epic crush on Brienne begiiiiiins

23. SHIT RAMSAY TELLS JON HE HAS RICKON

24. Sansa insisting on reading the rest of the letter from Ramsay is... made of steel. I’m here for her being the driving force behind this attempted rescue.

25. I didn’t realize that so many Dothraki knew about how Dany lost the baby and Drogo.

26. DID DANY JUST KILL ALL OF THE KHALS? Girl knows how to make an entrance? The optics here are sooooo problematic but she looks DAMNED impressive the plan in and of itself is sound - gets rid of the men who don’t respect her and shows herself to be indestructible in one power move...

6x05 OH NO THIS IS CALLED THE DOOR I THINK I KNOW WHAT IS COMING

1. Is it just me or are d and d writing more and more episodes themselves?

2. Sansa has had enough of Littlefinger’s bullshit. Making him face up to what HE LEFT HER TO WHEN HE MARRIED HER TO RAMSAY AND ABANDONED HER YES GOOD.

3. When he says “did he cut you” and Sansa talking about Ramsay not caring as long as she could give him an heir... does that mean what I think it does? FGM? I hate that I even wonder. (Still not sure about this, but I don’t put it past them to imply something horrific like that and then not come back to it.)

4. The more I see the waif fight, the cooler she gets.

5. Faceless men founded Braavos? Right I KNEW that.

6. Ok the play is fun... complete with sound effects. So interesting to see what people in Braavos think of everything that happened.

7. So... I would Lady Crane’s voice anywhere. Hi Phryne!

8. Oh wow look at all the CotF

9. THEY MADE THE WHITE WALKERS I did not know that and for YEARS before this season came out we had an au idea where that was true and I AM SCREAMING

10. AND THEY DID IT TO DEFEND AGAINST THE ANDALS AND WHAT THEY WERE DOING TO THE TREES

11. Yara’s speech was lovely, Theon supporting her was sweet, but Yara shouldn’t have needed a dude’s support to get that reaction from the crowd. She’s been on Pyke and being badass ALL HER LIFE. That being said, I like to think Yara would have been Queen in this version of things if Euron hadn’t showed up. What a Dick.

12. How does Euron go from wanting to marry Dany to allying with Cersei? I guess I’m about to find out.

13. Damphair knows cpr, idiot showrunners. don’t just let Euron lie there.

14. YES GET AWAY YARA AND THEON AND... a lot of the fleet? Good on them.

15. Jorah trying to leave Dany and her not letting him and commanding him to find a cure aaaahhhhh my feelings 😢

16. In the real world Tyrion would have been a great campaign manager.

17. If they wanted someone local... why get a red priestess from Volantis? Is this supposed to be the same woman? Do any of the people of Meereen even follow the faith of R’Hollor?

18. Varys having no time for the red faith’s bullshit is SO GOOD. It’s ok Varys you’re probably the most famous eunuch in the world right now. And whoop de doo a sorceress knows a story about a sorcerer it’s a small magical world don’t let her cow you.

19. ...whatcha doing, Bran???

20. Well that’s not creepy at all. Soooo many wights. Were there only... four white walkers including the night king? I’m so confused.

21. “The Umbers gave Rickon to Ramsay they can hang” YES SANSA

22. Why did she lie about getting info from Petyr? (And GOOD ON BRIENNE calling her on it)

23. Brienne calling Jon “a bit brooding” is the most hilarious thing ever. Somewhere Jaime Lannister is laughing his ass off. 

24. Yes wolfy clothes for everyone.

25. Awww Edd forgetting he’s acting lord commander is hilarious.

26. SO MANY WIGHTS DON’T DIE MIRA

27. Why are the children and the white walkers on opposite sides? Are these just about rogue CotF? EXPLAIN SHOW EXPLAIN

28. Cool visuals though... the night king walking through that fire was AWESOME.

29. Rickard LOOKS like a stark in that flashback.

30. RIP Bloodraven... glad you didn’t have to see how pointless all of this was.

31. Wait wait plain old wights can KILL THE CHILDREN? Dumb.

32. SUMMER NO I AM NOT OK WITH ANY OF THIS not Leaf either she’s a nice little tree person even if her motivations are unclear.

33. So Bran warging into Hodor in the present and in the past at the same time is what messed him up? Or something about the time folding and Bran BEING THERE?

34. That was upsetting as fuck about Hodor and I AM SAD EVEN THOUGH I KNEW IT WAS COMING

And... tumblr won’t let me post the whole thing. I had A LOT to say about some later episodes. Remember when I was going to keep this to three bullet points for each episode? Yeah me neither. 

[acevillainswhodunnit]

Investigation Start

The sound of birds chirping had to be one of the most refreshing sounds, Alita decided, as she rolled out of bed and stretched her hands to the sky. There was something so beautiful about being able to experience everything the world had to offer.

...well, the chill morning air wasn’t great. And the chirping birds were a damn nuisance at this early hour. But the fact that she was annoyed at all meant she was still alive for another day. Another night. And maybe, if she was smart enough, all the way to the end of this little game.

Having to watch her fellow housemates face their potential deaths again and again was sad, but really, it wasn’t her problem. She wouldn’t lose sleep over what happened around her if it didn’t directly influence her own standing in this game. It was cold, sure, but it was true.

“It really makes me appreciate myself,” she mused, looking at the Spared card she had tossed to the floor with the others. She had little pity for the three who had been given the Scared cards. Unlike last round, Morgan had hidden herself away alone, her eyes wide with a panic that was almost attractive to someone who had nothing to fear. Yanni had become irritable and high-strung, his patience running thin from the threat of death. It seemed that he was a fighter, underneath his lazy personality. And as for poor Luke, his tangents had become more deluded as he tried pleading with the house in the office confessional, as if there was anyone to listen. To everyone else’s relief, Shelly had called an early night.

Dressing herself, Alita began to make her way to the kitchen. She was one of the few to venture out before the sun rose, and she found that others like Dee and Daryan were also early birds, even if it wasn’t always by choice. The three would often share a coffee together, though the conversation was never that interesting.

Suddenly, the early morning was interrupted by a piercing scream. The voice was more masculine than feminine, which cut their options in half.

“What the fuck!?” Daryan bellows, audible even from downstairs. Alita rushes towards the stairs, wanting to get to the main floor to see what the commotion is about, when Matt gasps and grabs her by the shoulder.

“That door!” he exclaims, pointing past the office and down the hallway. “It’s open!”

Alita whirls on her heel to look. The door that was closed for the majority of their days here (she had tried to open it on the first day and it had been locked, as expected) was now wide open, the corner of a bed just visible through the doorway.

Dee appears behind her like a ghost, Lana and Mimi hot on her heels as they come up the stairs. “There is a body in the courtyard. It is too dark to determine who it is without going outside.” Dee says flatly.

Mimi rushes to the newly opened bedroom, stopping short as she takes in the sight. “Oh my god! Some guy’s dead in here!”

Dee perks up. “Does that mean there are two bodies? Really!”

“The lights don’t work!” Lana calls out beside Mimi, neither willing to enter a potential crime scene. “But from what I can see, I don’t think it’s Luke…”

“Is it Yanni, dude?” Matt asks, peering nervously through the upstairs window into the courtyard, before looking away and covering his mouth. “Oh shit.”

Daryan stomps upstairs to join the rest of the group. “Who the fuck! Two people? Son of a bitch we have to get out of here!”

Redd does a quick headcount. “Oh my! Perhaps they’re all dead! There is no lady to be seen!” His face is pale, clearly wondering if there were no longer any sort of rules dictating how many could die.

The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs draws everyone’s attention. Before anyone can speak, Shelly appears and drops the limp body of Luke Atmey onto the floor.

“It seems that something has gone awry tonight,” he says, his voice grave. “The number of casualties is great indeed…”

Mimi presses her back against the wall in horror. “All of them?”

Dee lifts her chin, looking disturbed. “I do not approve of this development. You cannot simply assault this many of your cast members in such a manner.”

Alita crosses her arms and eyes the others. “Wow, this is so sad… Shelly, play Despacito.”

Daryan kneels by the body of the prone detective, his face drawn into a serious expression. He leaps back in shock when Luke suddenly jerks up, breathing in sharply.

“I live!” he cries, his voice hoarse. “The shock of discovering Miss Morgan’s body was too much to bear, but only for a moment! The great Ace Detective lives to see another day!”

Shelly, unperturbed by Luke’s awakening, looks into the open bedroom where the morning sun has finally started to rise. “It seems that our dearest Ms. Fey and Mr. Yogi have fallen to the hands of fate. This case is slightly unusual, and expands into many rooms of the estate, so I find it difficult to assign rooms as we have done before. However, between the eight of you, there is still a mystery to be solved.”

“How is this going to work, then?” Lana asks.

“I’m glad you asked, Ms. Skye,” Shelly says. “For those who select to examine the upper floor, there are four options. You may choose to examine the Trophy Room attached through the office, the newly opened Master Bedroom, or the Veranda attached to the suite. For the sake of simplicity, the fourth individual who ventures to the top floor will be able to examine the body of the victim found within the Master Bedroom.”

Alita’s mind begins to race as she and the others take in this new information.

Shelly clears his throat. “For those who choose to examine the bottom floor, your options include the Foyer, the Parlor, and of course the Courtyard. Much like before, the final individual will be responsible for examining the victim.” He pauses, and sighs. “I find this turn of events rather… sloppy. I wish you all the best of luck.”

@yanniyogibear and @spookykyyy, you have been murdered! Thank you both for everything you’ve given to the game, and congratulations for making it this far!

[nightcoremoon]

I love horror, I just have impossibly high standards

anyway some of my favorite is the kind that is totally normal from the start, there's nothing off kilter or weird, everything is fine. it's mundane. but then maybe something strange happens and it's less mundane, maybe it's more colorful or lively. but it's not like it's scary or anything. maybe it's a little left of center but it's still fine. life goes on as normal.

but then suddenly it's not fine.

and it recontextualizes everything up until now and you realize oh my god it wasnt mundane at all, it was just pillars of foreshadowing and you realize this is the most terrifying thing you've ever encountered.

maybe it goes on with the weird scary shit and things resolve themselves later, but that gives you time to breathe and get accustomed to the horror.

maybe it just ends. maybe it's just suddenly "surprise, shit is fucked!" and then ~fin

that would be ideal. like, in the sixth sense, you find out Bruce Willis was dead the whole time, you see him making peace with his death, and then the movie ends. except without all of the overreliance on shock horror and the visually disturbing (for the 90s) shots of the entire rest of the everything.

but if the twist happens at the halfway point and things stay absolutely horrible for a while that's also good, like coraline. started off pretty normal, got a little weird, and then suddenly boom ITS HORRIFYING OUT OF NOWHERE.

a perfect example of the last line twist would be the girl with the green ribbon on her neck. aww the boy likes the mysterious girl and they fall in love and get married, really normal the entire way. and then oh surprise HER HEAD COMES OFF. simple yet effective.

I don't mind if it starts out the gate with being seven levels of fucked. dead space 2 opens up with nicole, narratively speaking just moments after she end jumpscares you in the first game, so we're already off-put. then 60 seconds in we see isaac in a straitjacket being questioned and in the background there's flashes of being on the ishimura and nicole's ghost walks up to you and slavsquats and her eyes light up and she whispers, then SUDDEN WHITE oh cool it's ok look it's franco from dead space ignition that's cool aww he's saving Isaac oh wow it's a really creepy atmosphere OH MY GOD IS HEAD IS GETTING STABBED AND HIS FACE TURNS INTO A GODDAMN ZOMBIE HOLY SHIT THEYRE EVERYWHERE RUN BITCH RUN CHAOS LOUD MUSIC BLOOD GUTS FEAR QUICK MASH THE A BUTTON OR DIE!!! oh everything is quiet now. good job you survived, now walk down the corridor to the next intense scary part. lather rinse repeat.

I like horror when it's well executed or creative and not schlocky and relying solely on savini's gore or unnecessary carnage.

friday the 13th is like, oh wow that person just got an axe in their forehead, I sure am quaking in my boots. oh wow the tall stuntman picked up a sleeping bag and slammed it into a tree, this sure is realistic. oh the scantily clad teen girl is running slowly through the forest while cain hodder slowly walks towards her, and he somehow catches up and stabs her with the machete. wow the effects sure look like foam core and wax got cut in half and is squirting ketchup everywhere. the music is sonically engineered to force my pulse to increase and I guess this is horror? oh look someone else got murdered. oh look another murder. I'm sure glad we spent the first 45 minutes of this movie getting to know the shallow garbage characters before they all get merced. wow crispin glover sure does know how to shake his head when a prosthetic attached with fake blood is on his head. oh look a dead body with arrows in it, the scream queen is piercing my eardrums, I guess this means I should be scared too. yawn. it's so fucking boring just watching people die over and over again. at least the later installments were either hilarious or batshit crazy. punching a dude's head clean off was the funniest thing I've ever seen in a movie given the context, and JASON GOES TO SPACE is the dumbest shit in any film but that's what makes it awesome. it had a stupid fucking robot fight. yet everyone hated it, so they rebooted it and surprising literally nobody it was the same shit but with more cgi so it looked even less real (not that it did in the first place). yet this franchise made hundreds of millions of dollars in ticket sales alone. nowadays there are people who see hockey on tv and ask "why the fuck is that guy dressed up like jason voorhees".

tell me why a free swedish gold source mod with blocky graphics and muddy textures and the worst lighting engine in 20 years and some bad questionable design choices in an almost direct ripoff homage to silent hill 2 and resident evil 2, crammed with bugs and bad collision and hard crashes if you die in a specific level while holding a flare which you literally need to always have lit because that's the mechanic the entire level was built around, by a team of like 6 people (half of whom were the voice actors and navmesh modelers), is still one of the best and well-crafted pieces of horror media I've ever consumed, while trash like the fucking craven-less elm street remake gets its dick sucked by everyone else because OH WOW ITS SO SUBVERSIVE AND EDGY AND GORY WOW COOL THIS IS REAL TRUE HORROR!

of course I'm approaching this from a purely american lens. japan's horror is phenomenal. mainly because it's not built around buckets of blood and literal pig carcasses and abusing actresses and actual rape scenes (although it's funny that people are totally okay with all of the graphic murders because killing people is okay and indulging in torture porn is fine but oh, god forbid a film shows something skin-crawlingly uncomfortable for the sake of making you feel disgusted and wanting a cold shower, no, the line is drawn there, you can stab a naked girl with a power drill or drop a chainsaw on her body and that's fine but if a snowman slams her body into a wall while his carrot nose is inside her hoohah that's when it's going too far? seriously? whatever I've beaten this dead horse). but eurocanadamerica's obsession with gore porn in horror and blumhouse's shitty jumpscare factories have reduced it to just... loud noise, stabbing, loud noise, stabbing, lather rinse repeat. this is horror now I guess.

nobody takes coraline seriously as horror. nobody takes the green ribbon seriously as horror.

the monster chasing you isn't horror. it's terror. horror is when you step on a bear trap while the monster is chasing you. the monster chase without the bear trap has no impact, it's just "watch this person fear for their life and die". yeah, if I wanted to watch a snuff film I'd look outside of mainstream markets. "oh but if it's just a movie it's not real" so says the people who suicide bait cyber bully and harass teens who ship a 17 year old with a 19 year old, or two people who work with batman, all over fictional alleged pedophilia and incest. because it's all bad unless it's violence. only sex is bad but not violence.

the violence cannot stand on its own. it needs to have narrative purpose. resident evil, all of the zombies and monsters were bioweapons being manufactured by a corporation. silent hill and cry of fear, all of the monsters are just the embodiments of the protag's inner demons. dead space, the batshit crazy religious cult wants to turn everyone into the undead since that's their idea of heaven, and you have to fight them and stay alive so you can prevent the universe from getting omnomnommed by the blood moons. f.e.a.r., a little girl with some psychic powers is studied, tortured, abused, and :/ raped (at least you don't see it) and she naturally responds by lashing out at the ones who hurt her and trying to reunite with her baby, who is... you! (spoilers).

what is the plot of friday the 13th? dumbass kids get drunk and have sex and let a little kid go missing and his mom has a psychotic break and starts killing them all, then they kill her and the kid kills more people and then he kills more people and then he dies and comes back and kills more people and then he dies so someone else starts killing people and then jason comes back again and kills more people again and he gets arrested and they try to execute him but he won't die so they cryogenically freeze him until he kills people in the future, and in a different timeline he kills people and fights freddy krueger. it's pointless. popcorn. drivel. there is no narrative purpose, it's just murder for murder's sake. and that's scary???

like I said. impossibly high standards.

I love horror. but holy shit is a lot of horror bad.

[liquorisce]

The Substitute, part 1

Pairings : EruRi, Rivetra (Shingeki no Kyojin)

Rating : T (at least for this chapter), with some angst, romance, and a little bit of shitty humour in the middle

A/N : I couldn’t write anything for Rivetra week and of late I’ve been having major Levi feels, so here goes. 

He’s always hated hospitals. He doesn’t understand the enthusiasm behind rushing the near-dying to this under staffed pit of chemicals and misplaced hope.

Shrouded in despair, It smelt of tears and corpses.

It reminded him of his mother.

…

Light eyelashes flutter soundlessly as blue eyes awoke in a drugged haze.

Levi hears them anyway.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he mutters, having materialized by the bed side, holding on to the tubes gingerly so that Erwin could sit up straight.

There’s a sharp, gutting pain in his left rib as he changes positions but serving in the Survey corps has helped him master his ability to mask his emotions.

Serving under Erwin Smith, a man who never gives anything away, Levi has become a master in reading these emotions, regardless.

“… The mission was a failure,” he says quietly.

A small smile forms on Erwin’s rough, chapped lips. It infuriates him.

“… No. We learnt something important.”

That even the Commander of the Survey Corps can be crushed in the hands of a Titan, in less than a fucking second, he thinks bitterly.

“… We cannot have freedom if we keep hesitating, Levi.”

And once again Levi understands the depth of the distance between them, the myopia of his vision, and the inevitability of his heartbreak.

“Keep this up,” he snarls, before storming out of the medical ward, “… and all I will have left is your dead carcass.”

…

It’s past midnight, and 3 bottles of whisky and his squad is engaged in conversation that he’s pretty sure makes sense to none of them.

“… She said she doesn’t want to marry me,” Gunther cries, with real, fat tears in his eyes, clutching his glass like it was his only lifeline. “She-she,” he stutters with a sob, “says that if I’m so hell bent on going beyond the walls and getting myself killed, she doesn’t want a future with me.”

Erd pats his back awkwardly and reaches to refill his glass.

“… It’s the sex,” Auruo declares. “Women will never say it to you straight, but it’s obvious that the sex isn’t good enough.”

“… Auruo!” Petra gasps, “I’m sure she,” –

- “… You’ve got to give it give it to her hard and fast. You can’t be a pussy in bed the same way you are while fighting Titans. The last woman I banged just couldn’t get enough of me, you know. She kept begging,” –

- “FOR FUCK’S SAKE. Just the shut the fuck up, you pig head,” Petra bit out, unable to take his self-indulgent sniggering any longer, “We all know that the only woman who’s ever given you the time of the day was your mother, and that’s because she didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

Erd guffaws, choking on his drink. “Erd, stop drinking already, you’re piss-drunk and you know we wanted to save the last bottle for next time. We don’t know when we’ll get this luxury of time and alcohol again.”

“… The love of my life hates me,” comes a whine that nobody really wants to deal with anymore.

She sighs, “Gunther, you two obviously just had a fight. She’s scared, for obvious reasons. We all are. She’s just worried about you. You’re lucky you have someone like that in your life. Just go talk to her before we leave tomorrow, okay?” She squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“Now you idiots just go get some sleep already. We’ve got drills in the morning.”

“… You’re not the boss of us, Petra,” Auruo pouts, sticking out his lip in an utterly childish way that he will deny tomorrow, with all his sobriety, that he ever did.

“Well I am,” says a voice from the corner, a unique mix of faintly amused and beyond irritated, “and I agree with her. She’s the only one that ever speaks any sense among you loons. Now beat it. We’re done for the night.”

“… Ah, Captain, I didn’t see you there,” she says meekly, running a self-conscious hand through the back of her hair. “I apologize for being so noisy.”

The corners of his mouth lift up in a smirk. “… Don’t. It was entertaining.”

She feels the praise heat up her cheeks and turns away awkwardly. “W-wow, would you look at the mess we’ve made!” She bends and begins to pick up the bottles and glasses, “I’ll just finish cleaning this up and then go to bed, Cap,” –

- “I’ll help,” he says, and it takes a second for her to realise how close he is.

It takes another for that very same realization to completely screw with her head and cause her to lose her balance, letting the glass fall to the floor.

“… I’m so sorry,” she squeaks, utterly mortified by her gracelessness. There’s alcohol all over her white uniform shirt, shards all over the floor and under her hands, as she tries to lift herself off the floor -  

- “Slow down,” he snaps, “You’re fucking bleeding everywhere, Petra!”

She glances down at her palms and sure enough it’s oozing deep red. “… It’s fine,” she gulps, more as an affirmation to herself than him, “I’m fine, I’ll just,” –

He grabs her up by the arm and seats her gingerly on the chair, before heading to the supply cabinet. “Captain,” she starts, her voice still a little shaky, “I can,” –

- “Just sit,” he commands, in this voice that he rarely uses outside out of emergency Titan-related situations, the kind that says I’m your superior, so shut the fuck up and listen to me.

So, she does. He’s quite as he wedges the shards out of her skin, holding her hand delicately as she winces. The sting of the medicinal alcohol is a welcome distraction from his fingers on her and his ridiculously delicious proximately.

Ridiculous, because she knows she’s the only one harbouring these unneeded, pesky feelings.

“Be careful,” he scolds, his voice low, “… we shed enough blood as it is.”

It was the sombre, cold, hard truth. The SC were little more than a rapidly exhaustive resource.

She tries to shift his attention. “Why weren’t you drinking with us today?”

He’d been drinking by himself in the corner anyway, he could’ve just sat with the squad even if he didn’t verbally participate in their nonsense, like he usually did.

He takes so long to answer that she almost thinks he won’t.

“… There were some things on my mind,” he murmurs, finishing up the wrap on her bandage and standing up. “There, we’re done. Now you can go upstairs to your bunk, I’ll finish cleaning up here.”

He expects a protest, typical of Petra, but instead, “… Was it about the Commander?”

He swivels to look at her. “Why would you ask that?” He blurts, tone harsh.

“… Is he getting better?”

“They haven’t ruled out the chances of lower limb paralysis yet,” he states quietly.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to keep talking but he continues, “… maybe it’s better this way.”

“What do you mean?”

“… Maybe this way he wouldn’t have to go out there anymore…”

“Captain,” she says in a low tone, “he’s the Commander of the Survey Corps, he can’t just sit inside,” –

- “Exactly,” he snaps, exasperated, “how is he supposed to be humanity’s hope if he’s fucking dead?”

“Humanity’s hope…,” she hesitates, wondering if she’s pushing too far, “or yours?”

He narrows his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

…

She’s afraid to say it. Not because Levi is her superior and speaking out of turn may jeopardize her career. Not because she’s afraid of him.

She’s afraid that the moment she does say it, she’ll know it was true.

“I saw you,” she whispers, “when you took him to the hospital.”

The fear, the anger, the helplessness.

“… You didn’t move, didn’t eat, didn’t look away from him, till he woke up. For 3 days, Captain.”

She had heard it when she lingered back a little longer because she was worried for him.

The broken, undeniable note of a sob.

“… You wouldn’t understand,” he murmurs, bitterly.

She didn’t need to see his ashen face to know it was true.

She’d known, suspected his feelings for the longest time.

Ever since she’d known hers.

“… You’re in love with him… Aren’t you?”

~TBC~

[iamnesta]

2017 Recap: Books

At the beginning of the year, I had a Goodreads goal to read a total of 50 books. But as the months passed and I continually ran out of time for reading, I kept lowering that goal. Before long, I had reduced my goal to half. I thought that surely I could read 25 books in a year! Apparently, I could not. I completed 24 books in 2017, and many of those were rereads. Nonetheless, here is my reading recap for the year. I hope you enjoy it. 

(2016′s Reading Recap)

Bookish Superlatives:

fastest read

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

best ending

Always and Forever, Lara Jean by Jenny Han

saddest death

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

favorite ship

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas (NESSIAN!!)

best cover

One of Us Is Lying by Karen McManus

best sequel

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

best lead character

Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare

best supporting character(s)

Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas

best villain

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab

best setting

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

best plot twist

Warcross by Marie Lu

best book overall:

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas

Below the cut, I have listed all of the books I read this year in the approximate order in which I read them. I have listed a synopsis and a review for each book.

Fear the Drowning Deep by Sarah Glenn Marsh

Witch’s apprentice Bridey Corkill has hated the ocean ever since she watched her granddad dive in and drown with a smile on his face. So when a dead girl rolls in with the tide in the summer of 1913, sixteen-year-old Bridey suspects that whatever compelled her granddad to leap into the sea has made its return to the Isle of Man.

Soon, villagers are vanishing in the night, but no one shares Bridey’s suspicions about the sea. No one but the island’s witch, who isn’t as frightening as she first appears, and the handsome dark-haired lad Bridey rescues from a grim and watery fate. The cause of the deep gashes in Fynn’s stomach and his lost memories are, like the recent disappearances, a mystery well-guarded by the sea. In exchange for saving his life, Fynn teaches Bridey to master her fear of the water — stealing her heart in the process.

Now, Bridey must work with the Isle’s eccentric witch and the boy she isn’t sure she can trust — because if she can’t uncover the truth about the ancient evil in the water, everyone she loves will walk into the sea, never to return. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

Fear the Drowning Deep was particularly fun for me to read because it was written by one of my Creative Writing teacher’s old students. I was very curious about whether this debut novel would meet my high standards, and I was absolutely blown away by it. I loved the characters and the storyline, and I especially enjoyed the setting -- I really want to visit the Isle of Man now! The only reason this didn’t get five stars is because there were a couple plot holes and some explanations that were rushed or glossed over. 

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★★

I kept putting off reading Crooked Kingdom, despite having received a signed copy of it sometime in 2016. I was so nervous that it wouldn’t live up to the first book (Six of Crows) but I honestly shouldn’t have. The sequel was maybe even better than the first, and expanded greatly on characterization while still providing a compelling plot. This book was addictive and heart wrenching, and I definitely cried a few times. 

Something in Between by Melissa de la Cruz

Jasmine de los Santos has always done what’s expected of her. Pretty and popular, she’s studied hard, made her Filipino immigrant parents proud and is ready to reap the rewards in the form of a full college scholarship.

And then everything shatters. A national scholar award invitation compels her parents to reveal the truth: their visas expired years ago. Her entire family is illegal. That means no scholarships, maybe no college at all and the very real threat of deportation.

For the first time, Jasmine rebels, trying all those teen things she never had time for in the past. Even as she’s trying to make sense of her new world, it’s turned upside down by Royce Blakely, the charming son of a high-ranking congressman. Jasmine no longer has any idea where—or if—she fits into the American Dream. All she knows is that she’s not giving up. Because when the rules you lived by no longer apply, the only thing to do is make up your own. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

Something in Between talks about the very relevant, important issue of deportation while still containing a cute romantic subplot. I thought it was very eye-opening, and I am much more aware of the impact deportation has on families. I also liked the romance aspect of the story, and was definitely squealing from the cuteness. The Barak Obama cameo was also pretty epic. 

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

Clay Jensen returns home from school to find a strange package with his name on it lying on his porch. Inside he discovers several cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker–his classmate and crush–who committed suicide two weeks earlier. Hannah’s voice tells him that there are thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. Clay is one of them. If he listens, he’ll find out why. 

Clay spends the night crisscrossing his town with Hannah as his guide. He becomes a firsthand witness to Hannah’s pain, and as he follows Hannah’s recorded words throughout his town, what he discovers changes his life forever. (via Goodreads)

★★☆☆☆

I read Thirteen Reasons Why because everyone was obsessed with the TV Show and I like to read the book before watching the adaptation. I read this book in one day, in one sitting. It gave me anxiety just by reading it and often I found it hard to breathe. I honestly don’t know why I finished it. I think the subject of this book is very important and suicide should be talked about more in literature, but this was not a healthy way of discussing suicide. I only watched two episodes of the TV show and it made me want to barf. Suicide is not entertainment. 

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab

Kell is one of the last Antari—magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black. 

Kell was raised in Arnes—Red London—and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see.

Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they'll never see. It's a defiant hobby with dangerous consequences, which Kell is now seeing firsthand.

After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure.

Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they'll first need to stay alive. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★

Wow! This book! Was amazing! A Darker Shade of Magic was an impulse buy for me, and I pretty much bought it just for the cover. I didn’t really know much about it, just that it mixed magic and history, and dang! I honestly fell in love with all of the characters, and the plot was exciting and surprising. I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a fast-pace fantasy. 

Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★★

Lord of Shadows was probably my most anticipated book of the year, and it certainly lived up to all my expectations. I loved the broad spectrum of characters, and the diversity of the entire crew. I loved the new relationships being built and the whole shenanigans with the Seelie Court. I can’t say much because of spoilers, but if you’ve read Lady Midnight and are hesitating to pick up the sequel: don’t!! Seriously, this book was amazing. 

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han

Sixteen-year-old Lara Jean Song keeps her love letters in a hatbox her mother gave her. They aren’t love letters that anyone else wrote for her; these are ones she’s written. One for every boy she’s ever loved—five in all. When she writes, she pours out her heart and soul and says all the things she would never say in real life, because her letters are for her eyes only. Until the day her secret letters are mailed, and suddenly, Lara Jean’s love life goes from imaginary to out of control. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★ -- reread

I have read To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before at least once a year for the past three years. It is by far my favorite contemporary book and has the absolute cutest romance I’ve ever read. So obviously I read it again this year. It still makes me smile and squeal and cry, just as if I was reading it for the first time. (Also, sidenote, they’re apparently turning this into a movie?? I’m so freaking excited? So make sure you read the book before watching the adaptation!!)

Always and Forever, Lara Jean by Jenny Han

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★★

I was so, so scared to read Always and Forever, Lara Jean. The sequel in the trilogy (P.S. I Still Love You) was absolutely fantastic, and I was afraid the third book wouldn’t be as good. I shouldn’t have worried, though, because this book was AMAZING!! Seriously, it had me sobbing one second and then laughing the next. It was a very strong ending to a phenomenal trilogy. 

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

Feyre's survival rests upon her ability to hunt and kill – the forest where she lives is a cold, bleak place in the long winter months. So when she spots a deer in the forest being pursued by a wolf, she cannot resist fighting it for the flesh. But to do so, she must kill the predator and killing something so precious comes at a price ...

Dragged to a magical kingdom for the murder of a faerie, Feyre discovers that her captor, his face obscured by a jewelled mask, is hiding far more than his piercing green eyes would suggest. Feyre's presence at the court is closely guarded, and as she begins to learn why, her feelings for him turn from hostility to passion and the faerie lands become an even more dangerous place. Feyre must fight to break an ancient curse, or she will lose him forever. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

A Court of Thorns and Roses had been sitting on my bookshelf for over a year before I started reading it. I had heard really good things about the series, but I could never get past the first chapter. So after months and months of collecting dust, I decided to finally just push through the boring chapters and actually read the dang book. And I was...underwhelmed. I loved the writing style, the setting, the main character, the villain. I liked Tamlin, but didn’t love him. I hated Rhys, and didn’t understand why people were so obsessed with him. I thought it was a good book. Not great, not terrible. But I couldn’t understand how Sarah J. Maas had turned it into a trilogy, because the end of the book seemed so final. The villain was defeated, so how was she going to continue the storyline? My curiosity was the only thing that made me pick up the next book, and I am so, so glad that I did...

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★☆

A Court of Mist and Fury was much better than the previous book, in my opinion. It was different, because it was a character-driven book instead of being plot-driven, but I like learning about the characters and their backstories and whatnot. No, it wasn’t always exciting or action-packed (although there was some of that) but I still thought it was interesting to read and I thought Feyre grew a lot as a person (or Fae, as the case may be) and I enjoyed that. I enjoyed it so much, in fact, that I finished the entire book in two days. 

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★★

This may be an unpopular opinion, but I actually thought A Court of Wings and Ruin was the best book in the trilogy. All of the buildup in the second book finally paid off, and we got the giant battle scene we were waiting for. There was still character development, but this was much more about the plot than the people. Also, my favorite character (Nesta) got be a f*cking badass, so I obviously loved that. The one thing I didn’t like about this book was the ending. It was kind of lame. But I’m not complaining. 

Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins

Anna is looking forward to her senior year in Atlanta, where she has a great job, a loyal best friend, and a crush on the verge of becoming more. Which is why she is less than thrilled about being shipped off to boarding school in Paris--until she meets Étienne St. Clair. Smart, charming, beautiful, Étienne has it all...including a serious girlfriend. 

But in the City of Light, wishes have a way of coming true. Will a year of romantic near-misses end with their long-awaited French kiss? (via Goodreads)

★★★★★ -- reread

Anna and the French Kiss is another book that I like to read annually. It’s another one of my favorite contemporaries/romances. The thing I love the most about it is the setting, which is in Paris. The setting is kind of like it’s own character; everything about the description is so vivd that you feel as if you’re in Paris too. France is probably my favorite place in the whole world, and I was feeling nostalgic about my brief 48 hours in Paris, so reading this book brought me back to the place I love most. Also Étienne and Anna are cute so... hurray for sappy, adorable romances!

Lola and the Boy Next Door by Stephanie Perkins

Lola Nolan is a budding costume designer, and for her, the more outrageous, sparkly, and fun the outfit, the better. And everything is pretty perfect in her life (right down to her hot rocker boyfriend) until the Bell twins, Calliope and Cricket, return to the neighborhood. When Cricket, a gifted inventor, steps out from his twin sister's shadow and back into Lola's life, she must finally reconcile a lifetime of feelings for the boy next door. (via Goodreads)

★★★☆☆

Lola and the Boy Next Door isn’t really a sequel to Anna, but it does include a couple of the same characters. I was hoping for another cute love story, but was somewhat disappointed. I liked the characters, and I liked the setting, but I didn’t fall in love with them the same way I did with the previous book. Lola was entertaining and passed the time, but it wasn’t my favorite. 

Isla and the Happily Ever After by Stephanie Perkins

Hopeless romantic Isla has had a crush on introspective cartoonist Josh since their first year at the School of America in Paris. And after a chance encounter in Manhattan over the summer, romance might be closer than Isla imagined. But as they begin their senior year back in France, Isla and Josh are forced to confront the challenges every young couple must face, including family drama, uncertainty about their college futures, and the very real possibility of being apart. 

Featuring cameos from fan-favorites Anna, Étienne, Lola, and Cricket, this sweet and sexy story of true love—set against the stunning backdrops of New York City, Paris, and Barcelona—is a swoonworthy conclusion to Stephanie Perkins’s beloved series. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

After reading Lola, I wasn’t expecting much from Isla and the Happily Ever After. And while it wasn’t as epic as Anna, this third book was still fun to read. I loved Isla and the book split its time between New York City and Paris, so I obviously loved the setting. This book quenched my need for a cute high school romance and I thought it was quite good. But nothing is better than Anna. 

I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson

At first, Jude and her twin brother Noah, are inseparable. Noah draws constantly and is falling in love with the charismatic boy next door, while daredevil Jude wears red-red lipstick, cliff-dives, and does all the talking for both of them. 

Years later, they are barely speaking. Something has happened to change the twins in different yet equally devastating ways . . . but then Jude meets an intriguing, irresistible boy and a mysterious new mentor. 

The early years are Noah’s to tell; the later years are Jude’s. But they each have only half the story, and if they can only find their way back to one another, they’ll have a chance to remake their world. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★ -- reread

You guessed it... another book I read annually. In my defense, I’ll Give You the Sun is probably one of the most beautiful, heart-wrenching books ever written. I relate to Jude on so many levels, and I love her character development. Guillermo is also one of my most favorite characters ever, and I love his tragic story with all my heart. I always enjoy the mystery aspect of the book, and the different perspectives and time periods. It’s a book that I recommend to literally everyone, and so far they’ve all loved it too. 

My Life Next Door by Huntley Fitzpatrick

The Garretts are everything the Reeds are not. Loud, messy, affectionate. And every day from her rooftop perch, Samantha Reed wishes she was one of them . . . until one summer evening, Jase Garrett climbs up next to her and changes everything.

As the two fall fiercely for each other, stumbling through the awkwardness and awesomeness of first love, Jase's family embraces Samantha - even as she keeps him a secret from her own. Then something unthinkable happens, and the bottom drops out of Samantha's world. She's suddenly faced with an impossible decision. Which perfect family will save her? Or is it time she saved herself? (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

My Life Next Door is a cutesy romance, self-discovery type of book, and that’s pretty much all I have to say about it. It’s funny and romantic and sometimes surprisingly serious and I finished it in one day. I read it over the summer while I was at the beach, and it does have a very summery feel to it. If you’re ever looking for a way to pass the time and want a cute contemporary/romance, this is the book for you. 

Finding Audrey by Sophie Kinsella

Audrey can't leave the house. she can't even take off her dark glasses inside the house.

Then her brother's friend Linus stumbles into her life. With his friendly, orange-slice smile and his funny notes, he starts to entice Audrey out again - well, Starbucks is a start. And with Linus at her side, Audrey feels like she can do the things she'd thought were too scary. Suddenly, finding her way back to the real world seems achievable. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★

As someone with anxiety, Finding Audrey was really refreshing to read. Finally, anxiety has been accurately represented. And it’s all told from the point of view from a sarcastic, witty narrator! I really enjoyed how the book was occasionally told using a script format, as well as standard prose. I highly, highly recommend this to anyone with anxiety -- and anyone without it who just wants to read something well written and funny. 

One of Us Is Lying by Karen McManus

The Breakfast Club meets Pretty Little Liars, One of Us Is Lying is the story of what happens when five strangers walk into detention and only four walk out alive. Everyone is a suspect, and everyone has something to hide. 

Pay close attention and you might solve this.

On Monday afternoon, five students at Bayview High walk into detention.

Bronwyn, the brain, is Yale-bound and never breaks a rule. 

Addy, the beauty, is the picture-perfect homecoming princess. 

Nate, the criminal, is already on probation for dealing.

Cooper, the athlete, is the all-star baseball pitcher.

And Simon, the outcast, is the creator of Bayview High's notorious gossip app. 

Only, Simon never makes it out of that classroom. Before the end of detention, Simon's dead. And according to investigators, his death wasn't an accident. On Monday, he died. But on Tuesday, he'd planned to post juicy reveals about all four of his high-profile classmates, which makes all four of them suspects in his murder. Or are they the perfect patsies for a killer who's still on the loose? 

Everyone has secrets, right? What really matters is how far you would go to protect them. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

One of Us Is Lying was an unexpected page-turner. As new debut novel, I didn’t know much about it, except that it had been compared to The Breakfast Club and involved murder. This book ended up being really well written, with both romantic subplots beneath the whole murder ordeal. The only reason I didn’t give this five stars is because I guessed the ending almost immediately. But it was still plenty entertaining, and I look forward to future books by this author. 

The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness

Prentisstown isn't like other towns. Everyone can hear everyone else's thoughts in an overwhelming, never-ending stream of Noise. Just a month away from the birthday that will make him a man, Todd and his dog, Manchee -- whose thoughts Todd can hear too, whether he wants to or not -- stumble upon an area of complete silence. They find that in a town where privacy is impossible, something terrible has been hidden -- a secret so awful that Todd and Manchee must run for their lives.

But how do you escape when your pursuers can hear your every thought? (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

Okay. I will admit that the main reason I read The Knife of Never Letting Go was only because Tom Holland and Daisy Ridley will be starring in the movie adaptation of it. I guess I’m just superficial like that. But I also love Patrick Ness’s other work (A Monster Calls is one of my favorite books of all time) so I thought I should go ahead and start the Chaos Walking trilogy. I will admit that the book was a little weird, but I’m not one to shy away from weirdness. The whole sci-fi futuristic war planet was certainly weird, but I rather enjoyed it. Very entertaining, always keeps you guessing, and also somewhat amusing. Todd is... an interesting narrator. I’m very curious how the Noise will be represented in the movie. 

Warcross by Marie Lu

For the millions who log in every day, Warcross isn’t just a game—it’s a way of life. The obsession started ten years ago and its fan base now spans the globe, some eager to escape from reality and others hoping to make a profit. Struggling to make ends meet, teenage hacker Emika Chen works as a bounty hunter, tracking down players who bet on the game illegally. But the bounty hunting world is a competitive one, and survival has not been easy. Needing to make some quick cash, Emika takes a risk and hacks into the opening game of the international Warcross Championships—only to accidentally glitch herself into the action and become an overnight sensation.

Convinced she’s going to be arrested, Emika is shocked when instead she gets a call from the game’s creator, the elusive young billionaire Hideo Tanaka, with an irresistible offer. He needs a spy on the inside of this year’s tournament in order to uncover a security problem . . . and he wants Emika for the job. With no time to lose, Emika’s whisked off to Tokyo and thrust into a world of fame and fortune that she’s only dreamed of. But soon her investigation uncovers a sinister plot, with major consequences for the entire Warcross empire. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★

I wasn’t expecting to love Warcross as much as I did because I’ve never really played video games. However, due to its setting in the future, I found it quite easy to immerse myself in this world with its virtual reality tech. I really loved the different characters and how diverse they all were. And there was a Hunger Games kind of feel to the story, what with the gaming battles. I flew through this book and I definitely did not expect the ending. Totally didn’t see it coming. I am super excited for book two!!

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

Sixteen-year-old Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil at the hands of a police officer. Khalil was unarmed.

Soon afterward, his death is a national headline. Some are calling him a thug, maybe even a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Protesters are taking to the streets in Khalil's name. Some cops and the local drug lord try to intimidate Starr and her family. What everyone wants to know is: what really went down that night? And the only person alive who can answer that is Starr.

But what Starr does or does not say could upend her community. It could also endanger her life. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★

The Hate U Give was by far the most influential, most important book I read this year. It is very focused on the current events surrounding police violence and the unfortunate amount racism in this country. It was extremely eye-opening for me to read about the community the narrator grew up in, and to see the world as she sees it. It made me sad to think about how this book is not just fiction but a reflection upon the United States today. I think everyone can benefit from reading this book, no matter what their skin color is. I think it’s important for people to learn about different perspectives, and I desperately hope that this country will change its ways. I also had a lot of fun writing a detailed book review about this for my English class... my conservative teacher wasn’t very happy with me but it was definitely worth it. 

Beauty Queens by Libba Bray

When a plane crash strands thirteen teen beauty contestants on a mysterious island, they struggle to survive, to get along with one another, to combat the island's other diabolical occupants, and to learn their dance numbers in case they are rescued in time for the competition. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

OH. MY. GOD. THIS BOOK. Y’all, Beauty Queens has got to be the funniest book I’ve read in years. It’s a subtle sort of humor, but I loved it. The entire thing is essentially a parody of the United States, and makes fun of our society. It breaks all of the unfair expectations society places on girls, which was super refreshing. The characters were extremely diverse and didn’t shy away from discussing sensitive topics. Every time there was a “commercial break” I started laughing like a lunatic. There were actual tears streaming down my face because I was laughing so hard. Please read this book it is so freaking good.

Taking Flight: From War Orphan to Star Ballerina by Michaela DePrince

The extraordinary memoir of Michaela DePrince, a young dancer who escaped war-torn Sierra Leone for the rarefied heights of American ballet.

Michaela DePrince was known as girl Number 27 at the orphanage, where she was abandoned at a young age and tormented as a "devil child" for a skin condition that makes her skin appear spotted. But it was at the orphanage that Michaela would find a picture of a beautiful ballerina en pointe that would help change the course of her life. 

At the age of four, Michaela was adopted by an American family, who encouraged her love of dancing and enrolled her in classes. She went on to study at the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School at the American Ballet Theatre and is currently a member of the Dutch National Ballet’s junior company. She has appeared in the ballet documentary "First Position," as well as on "Dancing with the Stars, Good Morning America," and "Nightline."

In this engaging, moving, and unforgettable memoir, Michaela shares her dramatic journey from an orphan in West Africa to becoming one of ballet's most exciting rising stars. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

I had to read a biography/autobiography as an assignment for school, and I am so glad that I chose Taking Flight. I was absolutely blown away by the things Michaela has lived through, and to read about her struggles and successes was very emotional for me. I don’t think you have to be a dancer to enjoy this book, although I certainly appreciated all the references to specific ballets and specific variations/choreography. I think it’s a truly amazing story that can inspire anyone, whether they’re a dancer or not. 

Animal Farm by George Orwell

As ferociously fresh as it was more than a half century ago, this remarkable allegory of a downtrodden society of overworked, mistreated animals, and their quest to create a paradise of progress, justice, and equality is one of the most scathing satires ever published. As we witness the rise and bloody fall of the revolutionary animals, we begin to recognize the seeds of totalitarianism in the most idealistic organization; and in our most charismatic leaders, the souls of our cruelest oppressors. (via Goodreads)

★★★☆☆

Animal Farm was an assignment for school, but I didn’t hate it as much as I usually hate school assignments. It pains me to admit this, but it was actually a pretty decent book. A little weird, what with the talking animals, but not bad. I do wish it had a more concrete ending. It ended rather abruptly. (Although I suppose that was the point.)

If you actually read this whole thing (or at least skimmed through it) I would like to say THANK YOU!! I love you all so much, and I am so grateful for each and every one of my followers. I hope everyone has a fantastic 2018 💜💜