#lowkey wish i actually ended up writing this concept

[mangobug]

If I had a nickel for every time i would randomly hop on ao3 in search of new alenoah content and I ran into a fic that made me think.. "did op see my post..?" I would have 2 nickels. Which isn't really that much nor is it that possible that people actually did take inspo from me but it makes me feel special to think any amount of people would.

Alenoah is so goddamn appealing to me for the same reason i like aleheather: they're both enemies/rivals with a tension. However, what makes alenoah so much more interesting to me is the fact that Noah just would not visibly care about, or outwardly acknowledge, Alejandro's advancements. When Alejandro flirts with the other contestants, he easily throws them off or (in Heather's case) pisses them off, turning them into putty in his two hands. When he attempts to throw Noah off, though, it doesn't (visibly) have an effect on him, and it bothers Alejandro because Alejandro always has the upper-hand, around both women and men. It makes Alejandro feel almost humiliated when Noah brushes him off or shoots back sarcastic comments in response to his flirting. Noah barely even bats an eye. But Alejandro can't bring himself to stop when he finds Noah as a person so interesting. Alejandro loves debating with Noah and adores his snark and intelligence, and this adoration drives him. He makes it a goal of his to somehow really fluster Noah or throw him off his game like he does with the other contestants, which has proven to be quite a difficult task. But Alejandro isn't a quitter.

In reality, Noah enjoys the playful and teasing banter just as much as Alejandro, even if he seems uninterested, because it's entertaining to be debating with someone of similar intelligence. Alejandro's flirting, though, does actually throw him off, just not in the same way it does to other people. Noah is entirely (and rightfully) convinced that Alejandro's flirting with him is just a part of his slimy, slippery, eel-y personality, and a sad attempt to rid of Noah in order to further himself in the competition. And Noah is nothing if not stubborn, so even if he feels his stomach twisting into a knot every time Alejandro compliments his brown eyes or his hooked nose or his impressive intelligence or his interesting personality or even the peaceful, curled position he sleeps in—Noah will always just nod his head and respond with a doubtful "sure" or a sarcastic "thanks, honey."

And if Alejandro were to hear about how Noah views his persistent advances, then he wouldn't deny it, because in the beginning that was about half of the truth. He did want to use this new challenge to knock a few opponents out, and if reaching his goal would not only prove to Alejandro that the cold-presenting bookworm had a heart that could be tamed but would also get him out of the way and push Alejandro one step closer to his imminent victory, then, well, that's a win-win for Alejandro. That isn't all the reason though because, against all of Alejandro's big ego, he does actually quite like Noah. This "like" didn't mean the same in the beginning as it did in the end. Because it didn't start with Alejandro wondering if Noah had had anything to eat that day or if Noah had any pets or what Noah's favorite book was, or even if Alejandro could borrow that book Noah was reading once he was done.

Against all of Alejandro's wishes and expectations, he finds that between the two of them, he is the one who has been getting flustered. And it is downright embarrassing, because Noah doesn't even do anything. Well, except for all of the things he usually does. He makes his sarcastic comments and argues with Alejandro just as he did before, but now the details are so much clearer. It's like every feature of Noah's has been enhanced, including his features that previously Alejandro would have considered flaws. His forehead was rather larger than average, but Alejandro has decided that it fit his face and personality and that it was only natural for a head to be big enough to store all the fascinating knowledge and wit that Noah had proven to have. And that pimple just below his right cheekbone, well, that is just time's beauty mark, a proof of growth and maturity that was one feature of many on his face that showed that he was very alive. He found an adorableness in the way Noah uncurled from his sleep and rubbed his eyes first thing after a long night of rest, and he felt a burning discomfort in the unmistakable image of Noah curling into Owen's nap for a makeshift pillow later that day. Alejandro felt electricity course throw his veins and his hands become shakey and clammy at every short lock between ivy and coffee irises. He felt his heart beat a thousand miles a minute each time he stood next to the other, and he would feel it speed up ten times fast at every sarcastic comment the other would make.

Alejandro found himself staring.

Alejandro finds himself studying his face, gauging his face for reactions whenever he makes a joke, and he finds himself way too excited when Noah cracks a smile at it. One time, Alejandro had made Noah laugh. Belly laugh. Gasping for breath laugh. A laugh so full of joy that Alejandro found himself smiling. Not from the contagiousness of Noah's laugh nor from the humor of the comment he had made about Duncan, which, truth be told, he couldn't recite on the spot even if he needed to because his memory had been wiped and replaced with this. Rather, he was satisfied that of all people, he could make Noah laugh like this (and Owen.. he supposes.) That night held for him some distasteful news, because how could Alejandro be the one melted into somebody else's palms?

Noah had noticed the sudden change in Alejandro's behavior, but it'd be a lie if he said he knew why it happened. And if anyone were to tell him why, he would deny it, because not only was it obviously not true, but he also didn't want it to be. The idea of someone as slimy, slippery, and eel-y as Alejandro even daring to approach him was for one, unfortunate, for two, terrible, and for three, impossible. But he couldn't help but ponder why this change had happened. Just why was Alejandro so... fidgety? He was running his hand through his hair what felt like every five minutes (Noah heard him curse under his breath once in spanish, likely at the realization of the inevitable accumulation of grease by the end of the day due to the excessive hand-to-root action), he kept unbuttoning and buttoning the top button of his shirt (Noah heard him mutter once, "is it too scandalous undone?"), and he wouldn't stop playing with his fingers, cracking and popping them, pulling and intertwining them—not that Noah was always watching his hands or anything, because he wasn't, but it was just such a drastic change to Alejandro's usually confident demeanor that you must be a fool to not notice it.

Alejandro did not notice—how could he be such a fool? Developing a crush on an opponent with a million dollars on the line? Pathetic.

The night following Noah's laughing fit, Alejandro found himself staring at Noah's sleeping form. Alejandro had noticed the way he usually sleeps, which would be creepy if Noah didn't have such a noticeable way of sleeping. He curled up to sleep, upright or on his side, and it was pretty cute. His eyes observed the way Noah was curled up against Owen's side, face resting into the other's fat. Ah, right. Owen. Alejandro felt a scowl creep up on his face when his eyes shifted to the blond's face—only to immediately divert his eyes, because Owen was already looking at him. He heard Owen laugh, which made his embarrassment double—embarrassment? I don't get embarrassed.

"Don't worry, Al." Gross. Al. "Noah doesn't know, so your secret is safe with me."

Alejandro blinked. He looked back at Owen, although reluctantly. "...Secret?"

Owen laughed again, and Alejandro was getting worried that he would wake Noah as he watched the smallest of them bounce against Owen. "You know, Al. Your cute little crush on Noah! He's smart and all, but he kind of sucks with love. You can take as much time as you want before you tell him. But between you and me, I think he likes you, too."

Alejandro's mind blanked. Crush? "Uh. My what."

Owen's face turned confused as well. "Oh... Do you not? Oops. Forget I said that about Noah."

Alejandro wished he could think of a decent response, but, what?

"Uh... No, I wouldn't say you're wrong. I just... didn't know myself."

"You—" Owen laughed again, this time making Noah groan in his sleep.

"Ugh... Owen. Stop, 'm trying to sleep." He said, not even opening his eyes.

"Sorry, buddy." Owen giggled, "Al's just pretty funny."

Alejandro glared at Owen, and the other shrugged.

"Sure." Noah groaned, adjusting his position before quickly falling back to sleep.

"Wow! How could you not know, Al? You're always looking at him and talking to him, 'n stuff. It's like Tyler and I aren't even there! And you're so nervous around him. I didn't know someone as cool and confident as you could get nervous around anyone. It makes me proud to know my little buddy could do that."

Alejandro nodded. "Hmm. You're right... Maybe that is the case."

It was a silent agreement between the two that it was their business and no one else's, an agreement that Alejandro wasn't too confident that Owen wouldn't break, but it was enough. Alejandro couldn't decide what was more shocking, an agreement between him and Owen, or the fact that he actually liked Noah in a more than just curious way. Looking back on what Owen said though, he thinks an Owen and Alejandro alliance is much more surprising.

[vsa-pieldepapel]

I still love your post-deltarune ralsusie hc where she lives in a truck(?) and basically spends her whole free time on the dark world with ralsei. (Though I can't find it :() How has chapter 3 and 4 affected that headcanon for you? Also, what do you think Ralsei is? kris's horns? green crayon? some other unidentified object? Not even a object and just pure darkness???

if you're struggling to filter for specific things, you can add /archive to the blog url and filter by the tag #ralsusie, it has to be there im certain. Was probably an ask, as you see, asks are how I end up rambling about different ideas... Lets get into it together anon

yeah, the whole thing was flipped over on its head, not gonna lie. Now that the writing has been emphatic on the illusory ethereal nature of Dark Worlds, including confirmation that DW food doesn't actually fill the stomach, I can't say the best end is one in which Susie stays... There is a theme that was planted since Ch.2 but has become especially resonant recently, which is escapism into idealistic fantasy worlds, and I feel like the theme being built upon here is finding fulfilment in the real, too. My gut's telling me that what is being set up here now is Susie taking Ralsei out of the darkness to bring him to the Light World, so he can live as a normal 17 year old guy without worrying about the end of the world.

I remember the unused blushy sprites from chapter 2 that, at the time, I believed toby removed because they were a little too ralsusie-y (Susie lowkey flips her shit internally in them) but now I see that the probable actual reason on top of my Pepe Silvia reason is that toby chose a much more poignant moment to reveal that Susie has blood. Does this mean that monsters in DR bleed, and are cremated to create their "dust"? or does this mean that Susie is a hybrid between a monster and a human? It's very interesting that the discoloration of the DW that she made, influenced by her subconscious, has her coloured like a white human girl with brown hair and otherwise features purple prominently. Is that reflective of this? Being a medical enigma, caught between two worlds?

the truth is, we don't yet know. But I feel like setting up the blood to appear there was purposeful because of... Pinocchio, of all things

Ever since Spamton (puppet element, strings, long nose, a trickster/deceiver/liar), we first got introduced to a general pinocchio, puppet, strings, control, reality theme. Whoever is calling the secret bosses informed spamton about a human SOUL having the power to see past the dark into the light. Is this an indication that through the power of a human soul, a Darkner can gain a body not illusory or dependent of an object or concept? And it's very interesting the way Spamton phrases it: [A Real Boy]. Very much a pinocchio phrase.

Pinoccho is about a wooden puppet of a boy, wishing to be real, a flesh and blood human child for his father Gepetto. Eventually his wish is granted through the power of morality and love for his father (and willingness to sacrifice out of love). Ralsei insists that he's not real, but through the affection and support of Susie he has become more his own person since the very instant they met and she got him to remove his cloak.

Is the Last Prophecy meant to imply Ralsei's sacrifice? I think so, at least; the way she emphasizes that ESPECIALLY Ralsei won't let that happen is probably her placing her will to live on him (most people don't want to die). If Susie is at least partially human, could she give some of her power to help him become a real boy? Could his willingness to sacrifice, and her love, be the conduit to make him Real? Is that the ultimate subversion of the Last Prophecy? I don't know. But that's what all of this has made me think about. And I am now very excited at the idea of Ralsei becoming real, not just in spirit but through the power of hope and friendship.

(Susie can still live in a van though. They can cuddle together there).

As for what object Ralsei is, I like the green crayon as a joke a lot, but I'm honestly starting to doubt if he is an object at all. There's something special about him, his endless seemingly innate knowledge of the rules of the dark worlds, his role as a prince and a hero, the fact that he was the very first Darkner Kris and Susie met and he seems to have been spawned from the grand fountain in Castle Town... I can't confirm it either way, but that seems to suggest he may be something more like pure darkness. I don't have a strong bet at the moment though.

Thank you for this ask! My passion for ralsusie has been fanned to a forest fire with the new chapters oh my godddddd

[chjroptera]

you’ve mentioned tftsmp a bit before, did you/do you have an ideal ending, or continuation, of that lore and c!karl’s connection to it?

i actually wrote this while i was writing that c!Q rant yesterday but this is how i like to think ckarls memory loss works. i think it’s less of forgetting actual events but forgetting context. i don’t see ckarl lashing out on cQ as him forgetting all the good like it’s commonly believed (or stated, i don’t remember) i see it as confusion, followed by anger. cKarl was def thinking “why would i kill myself for a stranger?” and assumes cQ killed him to explain his death. early ckarl never did anything if he didn’t get something out of it, he was selfish and slightly hedonistic until he gets with c!sap and c!quackity who confront him about being irresponsible. they stake their marriage on the completion of a group effort, c!Q and c!K have to successfully govern new lmanburg and c!S has to detach himself from c!dream. c!karl becomes notably checked out and lazy whenever he comes back from the inbetween which makes sense if he’s forgetting his duties like ruling over kinoko ad well as all the work it took to earn that role, he’s regressing. that much can be seen in how little he wants to be involved with c!d escaping the prison and throws the responsibility on c!sap. (side note: i think c!q held c!k accountable and c!s trusts him which is why they worked well as a team, c!s focuses more on doing what he can to protect c!k rather than working together, so when his leader and lover tells him “you got it” he has no choice but to believe him)

karl desperately tried proving his worth/importance to others after manberg was established so he could be in animatics by building countries, switching sides to have more clout, joining cabinets, sacrificing himself, and constantly frying his brain to keep looking for a way to save everyone. i believe all those karls walking around in the inbetween were trying to fix whatever went wrong or caused the current state of the dsmp, like what set off the chain of events (past) and what ends it (future) and end up getting stuck in this nonstop cycle. karl’s arc should’ve been focused on how selfish and cowardly he was but loses himself in trying to correct his wrongs by saving everyone. he shouldn’t have to bear that burden alone especially when he’s engaged to two of the most selfless people on the server. c!sapnap has a similar arc when he sees c!dream for who he rlly is and starts using his power to help the weak rather than punching down. maybe it’s corny but it makes the most sense for someone to find his journals and try to help him or him directly asking for it. he can’t fix the past or future directly but he can change the present type deal

if you wanna get more meta i also see karl’s role as a time traveler like that of the caged child in “the ones who walk away from omelas” where his existence/suffering is needed for the current dominance life/XD (3 lives system) has over death/kristan to exist. i dislike the dsmp ghosts a lot im not gonna lie but i think they work with my understanding that having 3 lives means death is kinda fucked and weird in exchange (ex. souls being split in two, limbo, jack crawling out of hell, whatever was up with c!george). the gods felt like they were working towards being more significant, especially XD which makes so much sense with c!dream also abusing tf out of the life books power

i really like ckarl and i wish time travelers tales didn’t get fucked last minute because tftsmp is still such a cool concept. it was just executed poorly because cc!karl kinda sucked at writing and lowkey had no idea what he wanted to do with karl (also bc nobody knew where the story would end) and i think he was afraid to address into his character kinda being a brat when everyone else was getting serious

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

When the x reader tag is clogged by asks, memes, text posts, and people complaining about fanfic authors/or a lack of content😭😭

And don’t get me started on finding dc fics that aren’t Batfamily here, feel like I gradually like Jason less and less each year, he’s so overrated…

Like where are the essentials?? The fluff, the angst, the in character smut??

If you don’t mind me asking, what characters are you talking about?? Because I feel like this could apply to a lot of the characters on your Masterlist 😔

(Sorry for so many yap asks in a row, I just get so fired up about this.)

(Also, if this somehow ends up in any character x reader tags, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t intentional. Tumblr’s algorithm just works in mysterious ways like that.)

(Added a cut for this post cuz it’s kinda long.)

It’s so fucking frustrating, good lord. Especially the posts complaining about a lack of content. Not only does it make the actual legitimate writing content harder to find, but it’s also just completely tone deaf the current harassment problem happening to fanfic writers. Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m also bummed out about the reader-insert drought, but as someone who’s been harassed off of previous writing blogs, you have to understand how those kinds of posts hit a sore spot for me.

Ah, yes. Btfm (derogatory) (<- and also written like that to avoid showing up in the Btfm tag). There’s honestly no way to talk about my grievances with Btfm as a concept without people thinking I’m a pretentious gatekeeper, so I’m not even gonna open that can of worms. Also, sorry to all my Jason-enjoyers out there. I love y’all, mwah. You guys are totally welcome in my humble abode. Your man, though? Yeah, no. I’m forcefully pushing him out the door with a broom. And with the current state of the Dick tag, it’s just given me more incentive to utterly despise that guy. Bro really comes in and fucks up everything, both in and out of the comics, LMAO. Kind of poetic, actually.

I made the OG post about this because of Dick. You’re totally right about it being applicable to a lot of characters on my masterlist (eye twitch), but it’s definitely the comic book men that are suffering the most. Weirdly enough, this isn’t as prominent of a problem with anime men and video game men. Like, there are still irrelevant posts in their tags, but those are spaced out enough with legitimate writing posts for it to be a nonissue. My poor Dick tag, though… if it’s not filtered out yandere Btfm or Jason posts, then it’s the memes/text posts/complaints issue or unspecified CW smut posts (I am 100% an advocate for writing whatever the hell you want, but PLEASE give the proper warnings beforehand; that includes any mentions of the reader’s gender).

I just… yeah. I’m taking one for the team and going back to totally SFW writing. We really are missing the essentials right now and it’s hurting the reader-insert ecosystem. I’ll drop the blog url when I finally post something.

(Also, before any of y’all translate this as me abandoning this blog, I’m not, don’t worry. I’m still working on shit here. Always have been. Nevah stopped the grind. I do want y’all to keep in mind that I write as a hobby, so there’s really no such thing as “a break” from this blog, and if anything, this blog is my “break” from life. A little treat from the horrors, if you will. Trust me, I wish I could post more often, but… nothing I can really do about real world responsibilities and stuff. Bwomp.)

But, yeah. You know what they say, be the change you wanna see in the world. I guess I owe it to the people after complaining so much about this. Lowkey, I think that’s also why the complaining posts rub me the wrong way. Why clog up the tags even further when you can take this as an opportunity to get a little creative? I don’t wanna write for people who just view me as a reader-insert ChatGPT, y’know?

^ And when I say this, I by no means wanna shame anyone from sending in asks. I have a lot of bangers in my inbox that I just haven’t had the time or motivation to sit down and think about (also, I really want my next writing post to be part 4 of my Older Brother series, so that’s what all of my energy has been going into recently). Y’all are such a great crowd, and I need you guys to understand how refreshing this is compared to my past experiences. Love each and every one of you, MWAH.

[elikajinnie]

HII !!! Hope you’re doing welll :3 So now that im done with the dbd series i HAD to write a review cause it was soooo awesome i had to say something.

First of all, i never knew about dbd until i came across your fics, and tbh it was the BEST discovery of the year even if it had just started. Im not usually the biggest fan of online games but this one is just SOOO addictive that i stay up every night to play 😭 also i wanted to get familiar with the game a bit before starting the fics, and that was lowkey the best idea i had cause i was able to enjoy the story fully without feeling confused.

Moving on to my little review :D i’ll just make a ranking so it’s easier hehe.

#1 Survive til daylight, my dear :

*deep inhale* AAAAAHHHH !!! this one was my ABSOLUTE favorite. The writing was sharp, perfect description of the map, the characters and the backstory, especially the killer’s one it was absolutely incredible. I loved how flirty yet dangerously charming he was, his character fits heeseung perfectly in my opinion. The mix of elegance and menace he had made him so compelling. The dynamic between him and the survivor was intense and made the story even more thrilling. The tiniest comment i have is that i wish it was just a little bit longer. But honestly it was amazing from start to finish and deserves the first place. It’s also the best beginning for the series.

#2 Every move you make, i see it :

This story was SO SO SOOOO EXCITING to read OMG !!! It was thrilling, fast-paced and completely captivating. It left me dumbfounded at every paragraph. The killer’s design was so unique and creative, the details like the choker and the wolf arm added such a cool touch. The only thing that kept me from putting it first was picturing jay running on all fours… 😭 it’s just my opinion ofc, but it felt kind of awkward to imagine him like that ( not just him precisely, but just a human in all fours in general ). I think it would’ve worked better if he fully transformed into a wolf/beast while running. But other than that, it was a fantastic read. The tension and chemistry between him and the survivor was just perfect, it also had the perfect ending although i couldn’t get enough of it.

#3 Cold touch, sharp mirror :

This one was DEFINITELY the most original of the series. I could’ve told the amount of work behind the story just by reading it. The concept of the killer and his powers suited Sunghoon so so so perfectly. The idea of the frost, the maze, and the mirrors was just brilliant !! The world-building was so well done i wish there was an actual version on the game 😓 however, what made me put it so low in the ranking was the way his obsession took a darker turn towards the end. It felt a bit too psychotic for my taste- i prefer when the dynamic leans more towards romance than madness, BUT THAT’S JUST ME AGAIN !! It’s not making it any less amazing and creative, and he’s my favorite killer out of all !

#4 Shadowed desires :

Finally, jake’s fic and my least favorite 😓 in all honesty, it’s not a bad story, but it’s definitely less exciting than the others. the character you gave him was interesting but still pretty basic if we compare him to the previous killers. Also the obsession he had for the survivor made him more clingy and desperate than terrifying. The way he just stayed attached to her the whole story without even thinking about harming her made the tension weaker and the story softer. I KNOW THAT WAS THE POINT OBVIOUSLY but it contrasted a bit too much with the original theme. It’s still a good read nonetheless, i expected more for him but it was still enjoyable :3

Overall, i LOVED the dbd series. That’s just another reason for me to call you my favorite writer on this platform. You’re always able to come up with insane stories, and thrilling plots i could never get too much of !! The way you make every fic so easy and enjoyable to read, for example the dbd stories, im sure even readers who aren’t familiar with the game didn’t get confused with how beautifully and clearly you describe everything. Without forgetting that’s it’s a very original and unique idea :3 I hope you enjoyed my little review, again that’s just my personal opinion and preferences, all yours fics are amazing and i will always make sure to say it !! You honestly deserve sooo much more visibility and appreciation, so really keep going im such a sucker for your fics ^3^

Now im kind of confused, should i finish the rest of the horror au, or maybe start the hogwart series… 🤔 i guess you’ll know better so tell me what should i go for !!

Anyways, that’s all for nowww !! have a good night/day, and pray for me cause an earthquake just struck where i live 🥲 idk if i’ll be able to sleep… but anyways love youuu stay safe and hydrated 🫶🏻

- Love from Dia <3

This is long, but omg, it made me tear up!!! (Which is kinda unfortunate cause I'm at work 😭)

I don't know where to start 😭 Thank you so much for ur review, but I'm so glad you liked it and enjoyed it!! It's definitely better when you've played the game and know what it's about ^^. I really tried to make it immersive and explain the details for the non-players!

I am most proud of the Heeseung version, so this is very boosting for me ☺️

The Jay one was just me being freaky, and the Sunghoon one was very... chilling in a GOOD WAY! Stems from the fact that I had a HUGE crush on Jack Frost as a child. And I agree the Jake one was.. in my words pathetic :/ But i was feeling very touch starved xD now I just discarded it.

You can choose which one :3 The hogwarts aus are more popular 🤔 I still have some hogwarts requests I need to finish!

Thank you for ur review!! And omg! I hope you and ur family are alright! 🙏 Thank you for the love and support, Dia! <3

[didsomeonesayventus]

fe engage questions!!!!

- if you could visit one of the kingdoms irl, which one would you go to?

- what are your favorite emblem pairings for units?

- which characters have your favorite designs?

Ohhhhhh

Brodia, probably. I love the autumnal leaves and the rugged terrain reminds me of alm the fun hikes i've taken

Ough. I'm very boring and haven't played with enough experimentation (I'm not really one for it) to really have a set idea gameplay wise. The rings kind of shuffle around whoever's suited best, though I think I give Alcryst Lyn pretty consistently and Pandreo tends to get Celica or Lucina. As far as characters getting along and bonding, I've been meaning to write a fic about Diamant and Celica bonding over fire trauma and her helping him get better with magic as they do. I also really love the unconditional love between Marth and Alear it makes me so ill it's like. It's almost like an eldritch horror of love where it's so big and incomprehensible and unconditional there is no name to be put to it they just care about each other so much. I also like the idea of Alcryst and Corrin getting along but that's creeping into my hcs that Corrin has dark blue hair (I actually use the exact same color from my saved colors palette for coloring their hair in fanart!) So Alcryst ends up looking lowkey like a long lost member of the family (another fic in wip hell where corrinbaki family in Askr confuses Alcryst for another sibling of Caeldori and Kana)

GAH THAT'S A HARD ONE BECAUSE EVERYTHING'S GROWN ON ME SO MUCH???? Mika Pikazo I'm sorry to have been a former Alear design disser I didn't understand your game as an illustrator and now I really love the use of color and shape. It makes me wish we had the 2D sprites again because it's such a hard style to translate properly to 3D if you don't like Engage's designs I implore you to look up the 2D concept art. Citrinne is when I really noticed and caught on to how Pikazo approaches design and had it all click into place so she has to get honorary mention. Alear's did when I started drawing him, and I love it so much now even for its occasional cursed elements (why are your suspenders attached to your metal boots and jacket???? Why are they there.) Lumera's design is also really gorgeous and I can never stop thinking about how her capelet/mantle is like a lavishly decorated shrine or altar. I love Alcryst's design, too, I know butt capes get flak but I love what they lend to a fashion silhouette and there's just something so pleasing about the ratios of red/blue and black/white (and it looks good next to alear without much editing they're #canon /silly). I also love Ivy's designs because 1) woeman hot 😍 but also 2) the contrast of her canon class and Somniel outfits so eloquently communicates her character. This is a lot but like yeah Engage design is full of bangers.

[lesharl-eclair]

lewis ot3 fic recs

for @f1ot3fest !! i promised myself i wouldn't ramble but this turned out ridiculously long so ... i actually need to learn to shut up

all fics below the cut; if you enjoyed these fics, please show the authors comment and kudo love; should you be the author of a fic that's here, and don't want to be here, please reach out to me and your wish is my command :)

NO this is so funny bcs half of this is fics by the creator/recced by the creator BUT ITS OK. THESE LITERALLY ARE SO DEAR TO ME *clutches to chest* please go read please go read

***

heist AU by @sionisjaune (sebcedes)

on golden sands (T, 6.2k)

Mark rolls his eyes. “Skip the crap, Jense. Who’s the mark.” Jenson lifts his whiskey and swallows the dregs. “One Baron Nico Rosberg. Currently installed in Greece, inherited the title from his mother. His father—” “Keke Rosberg. 1982 Formula One World Drivers Champion,” says Seb. The others look at him like he’s just materialized out of thin air. Lewis cocks his head thoughtfully, and the bizarre sleeves of his jacket rustle with the movement.

the ships that go sailing (E, 11.7k)

As it turns out, threesomes are not especially logistically challenging when two of the participants are experienced organizers of high-profile heists, and the third is determinedly horny.

err okay i think this was something i read before i had the concept of sebcedes or like ot3s. so it was a pure yOU CAN DO THAT??? visceral reaction the first time i read on golden sands. i was quaking in my seat. anyway upon sufficient rereads i have apparently collected my thoughts enough to say that the first part of the series is nothing like the second in terms of content (i read all the way to the middle of the ships that go sailing and suddenly realised that it was a sequel and uh. had a very violent reaction.)

the premise is wonderful, oceans 11 is great to begin with and the way every detail is taken care of in the au!! the characterisation of it all... the tangled mess of interpersonal relationship... it feels like every character has their space to shine, and this on top of a quasi-convoluted plot is quite incredible. aND THE SEBCEDES OH MY GOD THE SEBCEDES. the denouement. the start of something that seb can;t even begin to imagine. lewis and nico both being batshit crazy. sex retirement fic. somehow you managed to capture all the nuances (brocedes + seb + the emotional push pull + the competition?? a bit of quiet almost fragile sico? the boat scene hello??? brocedes being so chaotic it gives me whiplash?????) i actually cannot get enough of the way you write them

i can probably write so much more about this but i will stop here :0 maybe one day i will rereview this and end up with a five page essay or something. who knows.

***

Circle Endless by @antimonyandthyme (E, 2k) (brocedes + seb)

“It’s a two-for-one deal,” Nico said, very salesman like, as if he sensed Sebastian just needed an extra push.

the vibes here are so horrifically good. lowkey unhealthy. probably one of THE defining brocedes + seb fics - it's set up and played out as a 2v1 (in 2016!!), and the toxicity of it all is so asasasandsjfadjsfasdfs . there's so much conflict everywhere: within seb, the way brocedes also fight for dominance on the bed (bc of course they do), seb needing more despite whatever it's doing to him... that scene with kimi is pure poetry. so much to unpack in so little, and excellent excellent sex

***

made a hundred good stories by @red-flagging (E, 24.6k) (for a kinkmeme prompt) (alex + sewis)

“That problem you were telling me about,” Seb says, giving Alex a meaningful look. “I wanted to know if you wanted us to help you take care of it. Lewis and I.” This isn’t happening. Alex is having the most stressful, least erotic wet dream of all time. Helmut has gotten bored of subtle nudges and has graduated to full-on psychological warfare to get Alex to quit on his own and save the team from having to buy out his contract. Lewis actually did give him a concussion in Austria, and the long-term brain damage is only now starting to set in. "...You can't be serious," Alex says weakly. Seb shrugs. “You don’t have to say yes,” he says. “But if you’re just looking to have some fun–it might as well be with people who know what they’re doing.”

ok claire. coherence.

I CANNOT BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS FIC LIKE AT ALL??? i have tried so many times

the alex characterisation. the hellhole that is redbull. the exhaustion. so much DETAIL that it's painful to look at

the galex? the galex. oh my god the way it meanders in all the little spaces between alex's frankly ridiculously busy life, the LAYERS. the so much unsaid & the way they dance around each other even in texts. the way alex holds himself back but still wants.

alex/seb. seb being an all round menace to society (Quite honestly, he sort of forgets the conversation with Lewis even happened up until Bahrain, when Seb sidles up to him on some balcony on Thursday and says, casually, “So, gay cruising, eh?”) ?????? ? ? ? ? the perfect timing of seb's proposition. so much else but the deviousness of it all..

that little bit with alex and lewis. the painful awkwardness of that conversation (but also how much lewis eventually got out of it). seb's retirement & lewis' instant protectiveness!! ^^

the racing metaphors are so apt somehow (and even more fitting because alex has basically been consumed by the redbull grind........) this is a detail i personally really really enjoyed

THE SEX bro i cannot even?????? ???? i cannot do it justice here but um. the sewis is clearly there and framed so strikingly against a hesitant tired alex. the games sewis play. LEWIS GUIDING ALEX.SFSHHGSHGHHHHGG the car's still spinning and the walls that don't exist...... how at the end of it all it's still only glimpses of sewis that alex gets but how it's enough for him to maybe start figuring things out with georgie.... the post sex clarity....

oh this was so damn incoherent wasn't it. this fic made me, to quote @kritischetheologie, reconsider everything i thought i knew about alex albon.

***

a bedroom where your heart is by @hungerpunch (M, 1.5k) (vasewis)

“Someone will have to go for ingredients,” Valtteri says. He does not happen to keep vegan cheese stocked. “I vote the youngest,” Sebastian says, grin sly. Valtteri blinks. “Wait—” “Sorry,” Sebastian says, affecting a suspiciously convincing faux innocence, as if he’s truly apologetic but his hands are simply tied. “Seniority rules.”

closing this with some good achingly wholesome content. FOOD AS LOVE and i am so so so here for it oh my goddddd ... val taking care of sewis and finding the greatest satisfaction from it/it not being always about the sex (though the sex IS good!) and finding contentment in those small domestic-bliss moments/the scene-setting, the food described as lovingly as it's prepared, the quiet early-hour moments and seb in a way the middleground between val's discipline and lewis' indulgence when it comes to mornings... there's so much to just revel in and enjoy here!! a comfort fic in the truest senst of the word. :)

***

that was long. and probably extremely incoherent. oh well. thanks for reading till the end and remember to show the authors some love!!

as always, if you enjoyed this, or if i missed any fic, please let me know :) drop me an ask mayhaps if you would like more fic recs, and i will try my best to give timely unqualified opinions <3

[intoloopin-archive]

am i late to the npc game? PLEASE MAKE PROFILE FOR YOUR OTHER NPCS WITH THEIR HISTORY AND LORE AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN!!!! i am begging at this point 😭

GIO:

IT MAY NOT SEEN LIKE IT!!!!! But your ask rose me for my grave anon, I'm sorry for making you wait so long!!!!! Here's an extra treat...

YOU GOT … MIDNESTRA!

Midnestra was a fictional south korean girl group debuted in early 2016 and disbanded in mid 2017 under small startup company HOWL-L Entertainment. LINEUP (04): Myungji. Dahyung. Faye. Saki. SONGS INCLUDE: Wake Me Up (2016). Archangels of the Sephiroth (2017). CONCEPT: The Midnight Orchestra of Monstresses. NOTORIOUS MEMBERS: Myungji, Dahyung.

I technically wasn’t going to include any deep PASS(i)ONE related information (PASS(i)ONE being a name that I dropped a lot on the LOOPiN headlines recently, and if you follow me on the yapper sideblog, you might already be kinda familiar with as my ‘backburner project’), except for Genie because everything about Kendall and her bonkers lingering relationship with Genie is funny as shit.

For extra context: PASS(i)ONE has a whole three member unit of once debuted Idols, it’s an intricate part of their branding, and it’s made up of Caihong (centuries old SM Rookie), Kendall (once Genie’s Eunjoo) and of course, my favorite Pi1 mess, Dahyung (back in Midnestra days under the stage name ‘Pearl’).

Midnestra as a whole holds a very special place in my heart even though in universe this group is as dead and nugu as it gets, all because I did try to write for them and got into a nice 5K-ish ramble way before LOOPiN came up into the picture, they even had their own inactive sideblog and all! Their concept is also very neatly meta, something that looking back was a beta version of what I ended up doing with the loop dudes and their never ending repetition circles; the members assigned monsters within their group concept were very related to their personal struggles – Faye was ‘the midnight shifter / werewolf’, Saki was ‘the midnight shadow / ghost’ and most importantly, Myungji was ‘the midnight crawler / vampire’ and Dahyung was ‘the midnight singer / siren’. The siren symbolism with Dahyung is one of my favorite imageries for an OC I have and taps into a lot of her brain’s inner workings – her relationship with her influence over others, her femininity and her own queerness are some examples – and since I’m still hopeful of someday bringing Pi1 to the spotlight on their full OT9 glory, I won’t dive to deep into it, but just so you know: I ADORE her loser ass! She’s such a fucking asshole!!!!!

But oooooooh, miss Yang Myungji, this bloodsucker, fame fucker bitch! On her I must share some thoughts because wow, go fuck yourself girl, like actually! On paper, she’s one of my favorite unapologetic villains around – a washed up ex-Idol that happened to find one poor rookie girl that was a fan of hers despite all odds and it’s been using her and trying her hardest to manipulate her and live a second attempt at stardom through her, and won’t you believe it! That’s another PASS(i)ONE member! And on top of that, Myungji uses her past complicated bond with Dahyung as bandmates to suck up all of Dahyung’s possible alliance to herself only, completely fucking up her early bonding with the rest of Pi1 (mostly because she can, mind you!), weaponizing nostalgia and Dahyung’s suppressed attraction for her that she just knows is very, very real.

Myungji is a textbook manipulator and sadist controller, and also the way she can make herself seem like a victim all the damn time? Insanity. She is insane. I lowkey wish she would stab me at the neck with her stilettos–

[garbagedogs]

i could write a whole thing about Listening In and a scrapped mission only ever referred to as "RTNC" internally (might mean "Return to Night Club" based on context and some cutscene data) but basically RTNC was like Listening In just more complex - a stealth mission involving (proper) sneaking, lockpicking, bug planting, engaging with the social interactions system etc. that took place first at Club Bam Bam and then the Golden Koi. i'm guessing it probably "evolved" into Listening In at some point during development or it was at least renamed, but they eventually had to rewrite the whole thing to be much smaller in scale resulting in what we got in the final release. Listening In is internally referred to as "Pendrew's Bugs" or "PB" after all, with not just multiple bugs implied (you would've bugged both the club and the restaurant) but also Pendrew himself was going to be present in some form at the start of RTNC

anyways there's an unused sequence linked to both missions that took place at Club Bam Bam called "HangingOut" where Wei would've, well, hung out with Winston and his crew at the club (and then snuck around to do all the cop stuff). there are even some leftover in-game anims for it, for Winston sitting and drinking, characters grooving and doing coke, stuff like that. i dunno if Wei was responsible for it or what but at some point Winston would've gotten absolutely fucking wasted, drunk anims and all, and Wei would've had to convince him to take a taxi home and it sounds so funny. i think they really wanted this part to be in the game too since it survived the change from RTNC to Listening In, it even has some leftover text for the objectives. it's lowkey something i've kinda been thinking should've been in the game for a while now too, like actually showing the Boys at the club just chilling rather than only in the context of some kind of a pressing need - maybe (this is purely wishful thinking) this could've even been like a bachelor party type thing since i've always found it odd how the upcoming wedding is just dropped on you in Uncle Po. like you're already supposed to know about it

another big thing that's missing from the final release is that the fifth and final mission stage in RTNC would've taken place at the Golden Koi just like in Listening In and involved planting a bug, but the surrounding events sound very different: there would've been a shootout with many victims. like... the shootout that leads to Payback maybe? not 100% sure about that but also not sure what else this could've possibly been given this was definitely a mission for act 1. Payback was clearly concepted very early on during development too so act 1 would've probably always ended on that mission, in the final release the sequence of events that lead to it feel a whole lot less intense than what RTNC might've offered

finally just a small detail i thought was interesting but there's some RTNC staging data involving some of the Boys cleaning, sweeping the floor, wiping windows etc. i initially assumed that this was for the restaurant because we know Mrs. Chu is supposed to boss the Boys around, but according to the world coords they were probably for the club instead. which sounds really fucking funny like what happened there exactly, was there like a cut to the morning after the party and the Boys were ordered to clean up their messes? this mission just sounded so fucking awesome and fun all around

[wheeboo]

SKYE MY BUB!!! THANK U SO SO MUCH FOR READING i'm so happy to hear u enjoyed it 🥺 ALL THE REACTION PICS PLS I😭😭😭 IM SO HAPPY TO EVOKE SUCH EMOTIONS FROM IT ADBHASHD

superman!mingyu has surpassed all my standards. if my partner is not like him, i don't want them /hj no but seriously. i absolutely loved and had sm fun writing his character and bringing this concept to life!!! it's still stuck with me like i need to write more of him and this couple ugh,, they have a special place in my heart

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH ONCE AGAIN 😭 i'm glad to have captured a perfect pace for the fic and created a truly immersive world!! i'm happy u think i nailed the suspense and mystery as well cuz those were truly the hardest parts of the fic to write BASDHSAHD

i love those little details as well! and you explained it so so well i'm so happy someone was able to notice it 😭 because at the end of the day, he may be an alien, but he's honestly more human than anyone else. he gets vulnerable, feels conflicted, and most importantly feels LOVE !!!! yn is just that perfect balance between his two lives. she compliments both sides of his identity. she grounds his humanity, yet challenges him as superman. in other words, yn is his equal which what makes them so so perfect

U EXPLAINED IT SO SO WELL. just to quote something from the new superman movie - "They've always been wrong about me. I love, I get scared, but that is being human. And that's my greatest strength" and i wanted to encapsulate this in the fic so so much!!! i'm happy i was able to portray him that way 🥺 because there is nothing wrong with being vulnerable and being human

I KNOW LIKE HIS POWERS ARE INSANE FR 😭 i wish i could've used his ice breath in this but honestly it went over my head i lowkey forgot abt it BSDHASD but.... if part 2 actually happens.... then i want to explore his powers more hehe AND YES GOD i cannot imagine any other person to fit this role more than mingyu

skye what if i just sobbed and died rn . PART 2 IS IN THE WORKS... SLOWLY.... DONT WORRY BASDHSA

you're so so sweet bub :(( i swear ur compliments make me so so happy u have no idea 😭 emotions are always something i love to describe and adding in those extra details that the character does. a character is nervous? their fingers twitch and a shiver runs up their spine. a character is happy? a painful grin stretches across their face enough to make their cheeks burn. a character is in love? their heart is doing leaps and they're completely awestruck. it's just so so important to me that readers are also able to feel these same emotions as well!! i'm glad i am able to portray that in my stories 🥺

BEST WRITERS ARE CARATBLR RAHHH 😭 thats it i'm crawling on the floor sobbing in my puddle of tears SKYE FMLLL

thank u so so much for reading bub <3 i love uuuu

off the record | kim mingyu {part two}

SYNOPSIS. Kim Mingyu lives a double life. On one end, he’s the perfectly charming yet clumsy coworker at the Daily Planet. On the other, he’s saving the world. But when you–a guarded yet sharp-witted journalist–are paired up with him on solving a mysterious case of kryptonite trafficking, Mingyu finds it harder and harder to keep his secret at bay. And falling for you only makes it worse, when he’s only given two choices: protect his identity, or risk everything by letting you in.  PAIRING. superman!kim mingyu x journalist!fem!reader (ft. editor-in-chief!seungcheol, photojournalist!wonwoo, editor!minghao, barista!seulgi) GENRE. superman au, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humour, slow burn, suggestive WARNINGS. cursing, suggestive themes (kissing, making out, lil grinding, vague nudity, implied sex, shirtless mingyu ofc), violence, blood, illegal crimes (kryptonite trafficking, robbery, theft, hijacking, bombing, kidnapping), drinking, mention of tobacco, mingyu has hella plot armour, idk how to write a whole crime case for the life of me i was struggling w that whole part so it prob makes no sense lol WORD COUNT. 18.2k (for part two); 43k (in total)

notes: welcome to the final part of off the record!! honestly after rereading this fic a million times i swear there are plot holes and parts i could do better on. but hey, i've never written an action-crime fic like this before so i had fun writing with all the knowledge i had and wtv my pea brain could handle heh. if you've read this far, i hope you've enjoyed 🫶 once again, pls do reblog or comment/send an ask i would love to know your thoughts!

part one | part two

Mingyu finds himself clumsily stumbling through the doors of the Daily Planet. He’s ten minutes late than he was supposed to clock in. One of the buttons on his shirt is unknowingly misaligned, though he covers it up with his jacket. He brushes through his windswept hair, adjusts his crooked tie, and itches a tiny spot at his nose before fixing the glasses on his face while speed-walking through the lobby. 

There was an attempted robbery at one of the local laundromats this morning. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad𑁋just a bunch of high school teenagers attempting to snoop through the laundry machines and steal the coins. Mingyu had handled it quickly, gently scolding the teenagers then reprimanding them, and flying them straight to the nearest police station. But it still cost him precious time, as he barely was able to finish his breakfast before being called in. 

Mingyu sighs under his breath, muttering an apology as he dodges a passing janitor and an intern jogging towards the ground floor coffee shop. His mind races ahead of him, knowing he was going to see you today. You’re probably already here, sipping on your cup of coffee that he should’ve probably gotten for you if he wasn’t late.

Warmth blooms in his chest at the thought of you briefly, but the fondness is quickly shoved away by guilt. He can’t help but think about your conversation with him the other night as he adjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

Your words keep replaying over and over in his mind. You make it hard, you know, to stay detached. 

God, he wanted to tell you everything. Wanted to stand in front of you𑁋not as Superman, but as Mingyu. As your dazed, cowardice coworker and science journalist who has always wanted to ask you out on a proper date but doesn’t have the guts to. 

It’s an odd situation, really. When he’s Superman, he has the confidence to kiss you, but when he’s Mingyu, he can barely look at you in the eyes for more than five seconds before feeling like he’ll spontaneously combust. 

He exhales sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face as he nears the elevators. His steps quicken with determination. He dashes around the corner of the lobby𑁋

𑁋and crashes straight into another man. 

“Ah, sorry, sir!” Mingyu blurts out in apology, already reaching out a hand to steady the man before stumbling back himself. 

The man barely looks up from where he stands, clutching a sleek black briefcase at his side as he brushes off his dark coat, muttering something under his breath. He’s tall, seemingly close to Mingyu’s height, and his face is half-hidden by a black fedora.

The familiarity of the man hits Mingyu all at once. 

Mingyu feigns a guilty look. “Sorry again, sir. Is there anything I can𑁋”

And then it hits him. A wave of nausea slams into Mingyu’s gut.

He falters for a second, trying to control the way his knees nearly buckle beneath him. His vision swims for a second, his skin burning underneath his clothes, sweat beginning to bead at his forehead despite being in a completely air-conditioned lobby.

“You good, kid?” the man asks lowly, voice rough and gravelly; it even sends an uncomfortable shiver up Mingyu’s spine.

No.

He is not good. 

“Yeah, just…” He lets out a few fake coughs, clenching his jaw. “Skipped breakfast, little stomachache. Happens more often than you think.”

“Mm,” the man hums, and Mingyu swears he sees his lips curl underneath the shadow from his fedora. His stomach twists violently as his attention flits to the man’s briefcase momentarily, and there’s a faint, sickly green glow pulsing from its seams, so subtle no ordinary human eye could possibly notice. “Take care of yourself, kid.” 

Before Mingyu can say anything more, he watches as the man disappears within the bustling, crowded lobby. Then he finds himself leaning against the wall for support, breathing unsteady, feeling the poison dissipating from his bloodstream the farther the man walks away. 

Kryptonite. The word echoes through his mind as if he was cursed, leaving his limbs heavy and his thoughts spiraling. The pain is faint now𑁋whatever the hell was in that briefcase is out of proximity𑁋but that encounter was close. Too close. This wasn’t just some low level crook or common thief. It wasn’t an accident. It was intentional. 

And if it’s in the Daily Planet, it was meant for him. 

Mingyu forces himself upright, brushes away invisible dust on his clothes, and readjusts his crooked glasses. He can’t afford to make a scene. Not here. Not now.

Especially not when you’re here. 

He pastes on a smile when the elevator dings and he steps out onto the floor, yet it’s swift to fade as he breezes past passing colleagues trying to greet him and cubicles, scanning the room to find you. But he doesn’t see you, not even at your desk.

Panicking, he strides towards around the corner to where the conference room is, heart thudding, vision narrowed. 

Finally, he spots you through the glass of one of them. You’re seated near the end of the table surrounded by other journalists in your field, dressed in some semi-formal attire, jotting down notes on your notepad as a woman speaks at the front. You’re so focused, so in your element, completely unaware of the possible danger lingering inside the building. 

A wave of relief washes over him for a fleeting moment as he nears the door. He hesitates. He shouldn’t disturb you. You’d probably even try to kill him for interrupting a meeting like this. 

But he can’t shake the feeling crawling up his spine𑁋the warning courses through his veins, the way every nerve in his body is rigid with apprehension. The image of that briefcase and its poisonous glow flashes through his eyes. 

Without thinking, he knocks on the door, and it’s firm enough to turn a few heads in his direction. The woman at the front pauses mid-sentence. You look up as well, eyes widening and brows furrowing to the sight of Mingyu in the doorway. He gestures toward you with a subtle tilt of his head, mouthing something you can’t quite decipher from where you’re sitting. 

“Hi, um… Sorry to interrupt.” Mingyu pushes the door open a little more, trying to contain the urgency in his voice, shooting apologetic looks to everyone in the room. “Can I borrow Y/N for a second?”

You frown at him, glancing briefly at your other colleagues who are all mumbling amongst each other. “I𑁋Mingyu, can it wait? I’m in the middle of a𑁋”

“Please.” His lips part; for a brief second, his façade falters, and you catch something like worry in his eyes. “It won’t take long. I promise.”

Your shoulders tense instinctively, but you cover it up with a polite smile to the people beside you, mumbling apologies under your breath. You tuck your notepad under your arm and stuff your pen inside the pocket of your suit jacket and quietly excuse yourself from the meeting. 

Mingyu opens the door a little farther for you to step out, before closing it behind and reaching for your hand without a second thought. 

His fingers wrap around your hands with a kind of urgency you’ve never felt from him before, struggling to keep up with his fast pace. He drags you through the crowded newsroom and towards the entrance to the stairwell, the buzz of nearby conversations fading away. 

“Mingyu,” You breathe out the second the two of you stop. “You can’t just take me out of my meeting𑁋what’s going on?”

He doesn’t answer at first. His hand still hasn’t let go of yours, and you catch the way his eyes seem to be darting around as if expecting someone𑁋or someone𑁋to appear around the corner any moment. His jaw tightens, and you swear if you listen hard enough, you might be able to hear his teeth grind. 

Mingyu swallows hard before looking down at you, his firm grip on your hand loosening slightly. 

“I… I just needed to see you,” he confesses, though you can tell he’s holding something back. 

Your breath hitches at his words. “What’s𑁋”

“You trust me, right?” he asks quietly, words fragile as if it’s going to break. 

Your lips part to speak, but the words take a few seconds to form. “I… Of course, I do.”

He exhales shakily at your words, something flickering over his eyes𑁋relief, perhaps. Or guilt. Or regret. But before you can dwell on it, before you can ask him what’s wrong, a shrill, piercing sound cuts thunderously through the air.

The alarm.

It blares overhead, bouncing off the walls, swallowing every other sound in its wake. Flashing red lights cloud your vision and illuminate the halls. You could only freeze in place, stomach sinking down to the ground, unable to move. 

“Attention, all personnel,” a calm, but firm voice speaks through the intercom system. “We have received a breach in security. Please remain calm and await further instruction. There has been a potential bomb threat reported in the building. All personnel are ordered to evacuate immediately. Emergency services are on their way. This is not a drill. I repeat: this is not a drill.”

You feel your blood run cold. Gasps and shouts erupt all across the newsroom. Chairs scrape against the floor. People around you are scrambling for their belongings and pouring out into the hallway. 

You whip your head back around to Mingyu. He’s grown paler, yet his grip on your hand only tightens, like he’s trying to anchor himself to you𑁋and maybe he is. Maybe you’re the only thing holding him together right now. 

“Mingyu,” You utter, panic creeping into your voice. “A bomb? Is this𑁋should we𑁋”

“We need to get out of here,” he interrupts, already pulling you toward the stairwell door. “Come on.”

You hastily stumble after him as he pushes the door open and leads you down the flights of stairs. You can hear the stampede of steps right behind you of people flooding their way through the stairwell, trying to get out as well. His steps are faster, more purposeful, but every few seconds he glances over his shoulder to check on you, making sure you’re keeping up.��

At the bottom of the stairs, the doors are wide open, people from all directions rushing outside, some shouting into phones, others helping each other along. The sirens of the emergency services grow deafening the second you and him burst outside. 

Mingyu pulls you a little farther away from the growing crowd, his hand still clasped around yours like he’s terrified to let go. His chest heaves unsteadily, gaze flicking wildly over the scene𑁋police cars, reporters scrambling to get footage, people crying or calling their loved ones on the phone. 

When he comes to a halt, he turns back to look at you. “Don’t move from here. Don’t follow me. Do you understand?”

“What?” You gasp, trying to catch your breath. “No𑁋Mingyu, you are not fucking going back, I am not letting you𑁋”

“Promise me.” One of his hands finds your shoulder, gripping tight but not too harshly. The other reaches up to hesitantly cup your face, and for a brief moment, the chaos seems to fade away. “Please.” 

Your throat constricts, and you barely manage a nod. With that, you feel him pull away from you. There’s a small hint of hesitation as he doesn’t let his eyes leave yours. But then he purses his lips together and turns on his heel, running back into the crowd and disappearing behind all the rows of screaming police cars. 

Every instinct in you is fighting to follow him, a wobble in your step as you place one foot forward. 

But you promised him to stay, and so you do.

Mingyu rounds a corner and ducks into a nearby alleyway. He fumbles with the buttons to his shirt, tearing it open to reveal the unmistakable emblem hidden underneath. He kicks off his shoes and throws his glasses aside, shrugging off the rest of his clothes as his red cape flares out behind him like a banner. 

The building of the Daily Planet shrinks beneath him as he launches himself up into the air, letting his mind focus to narrow in on the threat. His eyes glow as he scans through the building’s interior, and then𑁋there. 

A soft, beep-beep-beep reverberates in his ear, coming from beneath the layers of concrete and steel. He forces himself to focus even more, his vision lasering through the walls of the building, until he sees it. 

17th floor. Administrative area. Armed men surrounding the bomb like vultures. 

With a singular breath, he dives down, merely a blur of red and blue to witnesses below as he crashes through the window, shattering glass exploding like diamonds. The force is enough to send a few of the armed men crashing down the ground before even realising what hit them.

In an instant, he feels the white-hot searing pain of kryptonite nearby enter his body, but he has to push through. He has to. 

Alarms wail in his ears as he lands on the floor with a thunderous impact. But he tunes them out, eyes narrowing to the sounds of weapons being drawn and commands being shouted from all kinds of directions𑁋but he’s faster, way too fast. 

Mingyu moves before any of them can properly aim. A sharp whoosh penetrates through the air with every punch, every tackle, every bullet that harmlessly ricochets off his chest and into the walls. He lifts one man into the air and flings him into a nearby desk with enough restraint to incapacitate, but not to kill. Another one tries to foolishly sprint at him with a knife, but fails miserably as Mingyu grabs him by the wrist, twisting hard enough to make the man yelp and the knife crumpling down to the floor. With a clean punch, he sends the man flying across the room. 

The click of a gun heightens Mingyu’s senses, and he turns around to lunge forward into another armed man aiming directly at him, grabbing the barrel of the gun and bending it like it’s made of tinfoil. A swift punch to the gut is enough to send the man buckling down to the ground before having any time to react. 

At the corner of his eye, Mingyu spots another one of the men attempting to escape through the stairwell. He dashes forward, slamming the man straight into the wall, watching as his unconscious body slumps down the stairs. 

When the last attacker is down and the room finally stills, Mingyu turns his attention back to the bomb. It sits perched on a standing desk, ominous and pulsing faintly with a green glow.

Kryptonite. 

A wave of nausea claws up his throat as he nears it. It’s still ticking down.

00:00:40.

00:00:39.

00:00:38…

He has no time.

As a groan bubbles deep in his chest, Mingyu reaches out and encases the bomb in his arms, sweltering pain crawling up his arm as he tightens a grip around the cold metal, but he doesn’t let go. 

“Shit, come on, come on…” he hisses through his teeth, his cape dragging against the floor below.

He bends his knees and tries to push off the ground, but he barely lifts off.

The kryptonite’s grip tightens around his chest like a suffocating weight. His flight sputters like a broken engine, lifting him only a few feet off the ground before his strength falters. He slams back onto the floor with a harsh grunt, sweat beading over his forehead. 

The clock keeps ticking down. He squeezes his eyes shut. Focus, focus, focus.

He won’t fail. He can’t. 

Mingyu forces himself upright again, wrapping both arms around the bomb. His muscles turns into knots under the strain, but he wills his body to rise, fighting to cover every agonising inch off the ground.

Then with a sudden burst of energy, he rockets through the ceiling, debris exploding through the air as his cape snaps behind him through the wind. He flies higher and higher, struggling to not succumb to the kryptonite’s poison crawling through his veins.

00:00:17.

00:00:16.

00:00:15…

He breaks through the clouds and rears close to the stratosphere, the city below him stretching like a blanket. The bomb feels heavier than the entire world itself. His chest tightens even more; black spots dancing through his vision. 

00:00:06.

00:00:05.

00:00:04…

With one final roar, Mingyu hurls the bomb out of his grasp and straight up into the sky with every last ounce of his strength he could muster. It sails upwards like a shooting star, and as the seconds dial to zero, it explodes in a brilliant, blinding supernova of green light far above the Earth that sends him barreling back to the ground, though he manages to catch himself mid-air, hovering for a few seconds to catch his breath.

Back on the ground, a sudden shockwave nearly has you slipping on your feet, rumbling the ground like distant thunder. Gasps ripple through the air as you and everyone else’s eyes peer up to the skies, the explosion illuminating the heavens above before being swallowed by the clouds. 

And then… silence. Peace. But it isn’t as comforting as you hoped for. 

You scan the crowd desperately, spotting coworkers hugging each other, cameras aimed at the skies with reporters frantically speaking. But there’s no sign of the face you’re looking for𑁋where the hell is Mingyu?

He promised you. He promised. 

Your feet take a few staggering steps forward, continuing to skim every face in your peripheral vision, yet you still don’t see any sight of him. Worry swarms through every limb in your body as you clench your fists at your side, ready to defy his word if it means finding him. 

But then, suddenly, a cloth clamps over your mouth from behind. 

Your scream is muffled as your body jerks backward, and whatever the hell is laced in the cloth immediately burns down your throat the second you inhale its bitter, chemical smell. You try to thrash your legs, wildly flail your arms, but then an arm grips around your torso, leaving your efforts to no avail. 

Your vision spins. The world starts to tilt. Your limbs begin to grow weak, sluggish, your strength slipping away. 

“Shh, shh,” a low voice whispers eerily in your ear. “Don’t make this harder, sweetheart.”

The last thing you see and hear before the darkness consumes you is the blurry outline of the crowd cheering and the streaking colour of red and blue crossing the sky. 

The first thing you feel is a pulsating throb against your skull. Your eyelids flutter open slowly, vision swimming in and out of focus, but the world around you is completely disorientating. 

Harsh fluorescent lights glare down on you from above, and the sharp smell of something faintly chemical, acrid, metallic fill your lungs. It feels like weights are holding down all your limbs, only for you to realise you’re completely bound up𑁋both legs and wrists.

You tug helplessly at the bindings, but they don’t budge. Cold metal cuffs bite uncomfortably into your skin, anchoring you to the chair you’re sitting on. Your heart pounds anxiously against your ribcage as your vision starts to finally sharpen𑁋and that’s when you realise where you are. Or where you think you are.

A warehouse. Or something like that. Grey, windowless walls surround you on every side, illuminated by the few flickering light bulbs above. Stacks of crates line the walls containing serial numbers you don’t recognise, but you could only guess the one thing that may be housed in there.

Kryptonite. 

Dread gnaws at your core.

Somewhere, a low snicker taunts you from the shadows. 

“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.”

You flinch as footsteps start to approach, a pair of heavy boots pounding against the concrete. Slowly, a man steps into your view𑁋middle-aged, a black fedora on his head, a jagged scar running from his temple and down to his jaw. A pistol is grasped in his hand, but what chills you more is the cutthroat glint to his eyes. Behind him stood a few men, rifles casually slung over their shoulders, their faces covered with masks. 

“Comfortable?” He crouches down to your level, close enough you literally taste the pungent smell of tobacco off him. “Apologies for the rude awakening, darling. Was concerned they put too much chloroform in you.” 

You spit at the ground near his boot. “Go to hell, prick.”

A dark grin spreads across the man’s scarred face. “Oh, honey, I’ve been living there for years.” The gun in his hand clicks loudly, raising the hairs on the back of your neck, pointing the barrel of the gun at your knee. “But don’t worry. You’ll be joining me soon enough.”

A ripple of chuckles dance around you mockingly. Scarface eventually stands up, pacing around you tauntingly. 

“Let’s cut to the chase, yeah?” he starts. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, aren’t you?”

He stops directly behind you, and you feel the barrel of his gun knock against the back of your head. 

“Here’s the thing,” Scarface continues coldly. “This ain’t personal, sweetheart. Though, between you and me, it’s a hell of a bonus that you happen to be his plaything.”

Your blood runs cold. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He simply laughs, a bitter bark that makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. “Come on, princess, don’t play dumb. You and Superman. Or whatever the hell he calls himself these days. We’ve seen you two.” 

You swallow hard, lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re delusional.”

His grin widens, teeth yellow in the dim light. “Am I? Or did you think no one else would notice? Cameras are everywhere in this shithole city, darling. Tell me, doll𑁋does he fly straight to your apartment after a rescue? Whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Fuck you silly in the sky?”

You jerk frantically against the cuffs, wincing as the metal digs deeper into your skin. “You’re sick, you𑁋”

The sound of the gun cocking immediately makes you zip your mouth. 

“You wrote that little article, huh? Though you were some big hero exposing our kryptonite trade, eh?” He lets out a low whistle. “You’ve pissed off the wrong people with that one, princess. It almost makes me feel bad for you, honestly. But alas, you’ve signed your own death warrant with that.”

“If you want to kill me so badly, just do it,” You urge lowly.

“Now, where would be the fun in that?” Scarface spits hoarsely. “As much as it would be fun to put a bullet through your head, there are far more important things than that. Superman.”

“He’s not your enemy,” You attempt to reason, even though deep down you know it’s useless. “He’s saved this city more times than𑁋”

“I’ve heard all the PR bullshit,” he cuts you off sharply. “He’s a threat. A freak. An alien bastard. A ticking time bomb. You think this world is safe with him flying around? He can lift mountains and destroy an entire city with a fucking sneeze. And threats like that need to be neutralised.” 

Scarface looms above you once again, pointing the gun right between your eyes. 

“And what better way to lure him out by using the thing he loves most?” 

You battle the fear grappling at your chest, forcing your defiant gaze to shoot a dagger right through him. 

“Fuck you.”

What comes next is a loud slap that echoes across the room. Pain immediately burns through your cheek from the force, your vision momentarily blurring, the taste of copper falling on your tongue. Your teeth scrape against each other in your mouth as you hold back the heat sprouting in the corners of your eyes. 

“Tough girl, huh?” Scarface sneers amusedly, pulling away from you. “Makes things more fun.”

Before you can retort, you hear shots ringing out in the distance𑁋somewhere outside from wherever you are. It stuns the room in a brief, rigid silence, making the armed men in the room hoister their rifles. There’s a momentary wave of relief that hits you, a beat of hope that reverberates in your heart. 

Scarface curses lowly under his breath, his grip hardening around his pistol, signaling to the men in the room. You watch as they all give a nod before marching out the door, before Scarface flickers his gaze back to you. 

“You stay right here, yeah?” He gives you a forceful flick on the forehead. “Enjoy the show, princess.”

The rattling sound of keys jerks your attention upright. You watch with hazy eyes as two armed men stroll inside the room with heavy footsteps. Both of their faces are obscured and hidden by hats and masks, rifles slung across their shoulders as they approach you. They come to either side of you𑁋the man on the right reaches for a tight grip around your waist.

“Get up,” he orders gruffly. “Orders changed. We’re taking you outside.”

The man on the left is noticeably silent as you’re yanked off your chair and onto your feet. Your knees wobble from having been sitting for God knows how long, blood and adrenaline rushing throughout your body. 

You find yourself being forced towards the exit, entering into a shallow hallway. Exposed pipes and the heavy, unappealing scent of oil and gunpowder fill your lungs. You stumble against the uneven floor as you’re guided forward, their grips firm on your wrists.

The silence of the hallway feels deafening, seemingly endless before your eyes with no visible signs of escape. You overhear the man on the right mumbling something over what you assume to be a radio, then you allow your gaze to flit over to the man on the left. 

He’s stoic, composed, the low brim of his cap hiding his eyes. His grip on your wrist is not as bruising as the other man; in fact, it’s almost gentle, somewhat hesitant. It doesn’t feel like the kind of grip of someone dragging you down to your execution. Or maybe you’re just holding onto the end of some fragile thread of hope, because at this point, it’s slipping from your grasp way faster than you’re able to catch up with.

“Get moving.” The man on the right shoves you with the barrel of his gun.

You stumble forward with a sharp hiss, and you hardly realise that the grip on your left wrist tightens ever so slightly, preventing you from falling down to the ground.

“Watch it,” the man on the left grumbles.

“Shut your mouth.” The other man gives you another harsher push. 

And then, suddenly, the air shifts.

It happens like the blink of an eye𑁋a blur of movement catches you off-guard and before your brain could fully process what’s happening, the man on the left snaps into action.

With one fluid, impossible movement, he lets go of your wrist before swinging a hand directly into the other man’s gut. A sickening crunch echoes through the empty hallway as you watch the armed guard crumple down to the ground. Before he has any chance to recover, the man on your left knocks the rifle clean out of his hands, and in another flash of motion, slams him hard into the wall.

The impact leaves a deep dent in the drywall. 

You instinctively shield yourself with your cuffed hands, fear slithering up your shaky legs as the man turns directly towards you. For a moment, your heart nearly stops.

And then, you see it.

Though his face is still obscured, you catch a glimpse𑁋just a tiny glimpse𑁋of his eyes.

There’s no anger in them.

Or rage.

But warmth. 

Your lips part in disbelief as you scan him from head to toe. The brim of his hat is slightly askew from earlier, dark hair peeking out from underneath. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, his frame sending an unmistakable spark of recognition through your mind, and it takes everything in you not to cry or collapse from relief. 

Superman is here. He found you.

He steps up to you carefully while removing his mask, reaching an arm behind to snap the cuffs off your wrists like they’re made of tinfoil. They fall down the ground with a clank, and you find yourself instinctively leaning into him, feeling his arms immediately catch you. His warmth is enough to wash away more of the fear and adrenaline coursing within you. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is low, almost hoarse𑁋like it physically hurts to see you like this.

You give a subtle, vulnerable shake of your head. He doesn’t press you more about it. 

“There’s kryptonite here,” You tell him worriedly. “They talked about it𑁋said they were going to use it on you. To trap you. Kill you.”

You feel his body stiffen for a moment. Not out of fear, though. He’s not afraid, you think.

“I know,” he says quietly. 

He releases you a little, giving him room to slide one of his gloves off. Your eyes widen at the sight of blood on his knuckles. The imminent danger of kryptonite is fully shown right in front of you. Just like the heist at the National Bank, it’s enough to even make the Man of Steel bleed. 

You take his hand in yours. It tremors from your touch. “No, you can’t𑁋” You purse your lips together urgently. “They want you to walk into their trap. Into their goddamn execution chamber.”

He doesn’t pull his hand away. He lets you hold it, allowing your gaze to wash over the blooming scrape as if it’ll be enough to make it fade away. You feel the restraint in his body, as if he’s trying to hold in the imperceptible signs of pain he may be feeling. He’s breathing harder than he should, and still holding your hand like he doesn’t want to let go. 

Then he looks at you, really looks at you, for the first time since stepping into this hellhole. And it nearly destroys him to see worry carved in your features. He’s never seen this look on you before, never seen you𑁋the Daily Planet’s most passionate and sharp-witted journalist𑁋this scared before. For him. 

His jaw tics.

“I have to stop them,” he mutters. “It’s what I have to do.”

He’s about to move. You can feel it in the way his body shifts. You still refuse to let him go. 

“There’s a vent, northside of the building,” he informs you softly. “It’s a tight squeeze, but it’ll take you outside. Reinforcements are already on their way. I’ll hold them off so you can get out.”

“No,” You insist desperately, clinging to his sleeve. “You’re hurt, you’re bleeding. They’ll𑁋”

“Please.”

His voice cracks from the singular word alone. God, you want to argue. To cry. To kiss him hoping that this entire thing was just a figment of your imagination. But you can’t. This nightmare is real. 

The realisation settles in your bones like ice. 

He bends down a little to press his forehead against yours. You relish the closeness, allowing your eyes to fall to a close. While the world has gone mad outside, there’s a brief period of stillness that makes standing in this quiet, grimy hallway less suffocating. Slowly, your fingers release his sleeve, one-by-one. 

“If you die in there, I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.” You whisper shakily, trying to summon any semblance of strength in your voice𑁋yet, it wavers anyway. 

The barest twitch of his lips is the closest thing to a smile you get. “Deal.”

You open your eyes to look at him again𑁋just in case. Just in case this is the last time you get to. He doesn’t say anything, only leaning in to press the gentlest of kisses to your forehead which makes your heart squeeze tightly. It burns. Not from heat, but from the pain of goodbye disguised as tenderness. 

“Go. Run,” he demands. “Don’t look back.” 

You hesitate. Just for a second. And then you turn on your heel and bolt. 

Your footsteps echo down the corridor, fading faster than he’s ready for. You don’t look back. You can’t. Because you know that if you do, you’ll turn around and never leave. And he needs you to leave. Staying might only hurt him even more. 

Maybe that’s what love is sometimes: letting go of something, even when one piece of you is begging to stay. 

Superman𑁋no, Mingyu𑁋watches as your figure disappears around the corner. The softness in his gaze hardens back to steel. He brings his eyes down to the unconscious guard slumped down the wall, stepping over to crouch down. 

He begins to rifle through the man’s pockets swiftly. There’s no time to waste. At the corner of his eye, he spots one of the kryptonite pendants hidden underneath the man’s jacket. Other things that he finds are pretty standard: extra rounds of ammo, a pistol, a radio muttering purely static, a tactical knife. All of it is completely useless to him. But then, his hand brushes against something cold and metallic in one of the inner pockets.

He pulls it out𑁋a small, lead-lined case, which alone is already a red flag, and an access card. 

Mingyu pockets the card before flipping open the tiny hatch, bracing for what he already suspects. Inside, there’s kryptonite, but it seems to be purposely melted into a liquid, metallic state, pulsing green like a heartbeat. The buzz from the radiation itches at the edges of his strength. He digs a little deeper into the man’s pockets, and he flinches when something sharp caresses his skin. 

A syringe. It’s sleek, probably custom-made, the kind you don’t find in a standard military-grade medical kit. No, this was made for a purpose. They’d planned to get close to him, inject him. That’s why they needed you. You were the bait𑁋the knife they’d twist into his gut the moment his guard drops. 

And it nearly worked. 

Mingyu crushes the syringe in his hand without a second thought, the material melting inwardly before crumpling to the ground like a pile of dust. They used you. They took you from him. Toyed with your life and hurt you, left bruises on your wrists that he can still feel under his fingers.  

It’s not rage that powers him now. 

It’s you. 

A bullet barely grazes his cheek, flying past him and hitting the wall right behind him. 

He doesn’t flinch. He’s bleeding, but he hardly lets it phase him. 

Mingyu’s body moves before he could even think, instincts sharpened by fury. He lunges forward, grabbing the armed man by the collar and slamming him into the floor hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. The rifle clatters uselessly to the floor, and Mingyu crushes it with his foot. 

Another soldier comes up at Mingyu from behind𑁋the soft click of the safety being released heightens his senses𑁋and he spins, sweeping the attacker’s legs out from under him. Before the man could hit the ground, a loud crack bounces off the walls as Mingyu’s fists meets his jaw with a forceful punch. 

Pain rattles through his bones. He’s getting weaker by the minute, as if there’s some invisible noose tightening with every breath he takes. But he has to keep going. He has to. 

He limps past the carnage of unconscious bodies, his breath ragged, shoulders rising and falling heavily with the effort to stay upright. The hallway ahead of him stretches before his eyes, flickering lights buzzing overhead. He makes one turn. Then another. And another. 

He stops in his path.

A dead end, but it doesn’t forgo any sort of hope; in fact, quite the opposite. A steel, reforged door looms in front of him. Unlike the other doors in the place, there’s no handle for this one. A keypad glows faintly on the side𑁋red, locked tight. But he remembers the access card he pocketed earlier from the guard.

Taking it out of his pocket, he swipes it.

A soft beep. Then a hiss.

A gust of cold air meets his face as the door slides open slowly. For a moment, he doesn’t move𑁋his instincts scream at him that something is off, that something is wrong. But he steps forward anyway, walking inside the room as another wave of nausea courses through him. 

His eyes squeeze shut, and he takes a minute to labour his breathing. One exhale. Two exhales. Three exhales. It’s relieving, even for a little while.

Then he opens his eyes.

And his heart drops.

The room is vast and eerily silent. The walls are lined with what appear to be glass chambers, some sort of stasis pods. They’re large, cylindrical-shaped, condensation brewing through them so he’s unable to fully see inside. He makes his way over to one of the pods, running a bloodied hand over its icy surface. 

Mingyu nearly collapses down on his knees.

There’s a body inside. A woman, probably around his age. Her eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, her skin pale. Yet as he gazes over her still form, his mind suddenly racks with memories, recognition. This woman was on the list of people who were reported as a missing cold case at the very beginning. She was here all along, and the thought makes frustration blaze through him.

Then, another feeling slithers up his spine. He can feel it right down to his core, and it makes him stagger a few steps backwards. The same physiology. The same dormant power thrumming beneath her skin𑁋except, it’s lifeless now. Pulseless. 

The people who were reported missing weren’t humans.

They’re Kryptonians. 

Kryptonians who had survived the fallout of the planet, just like him. Mingyu thought he was the only survivor, but he wasn’t. They were here this entire time, and he couldn’t save them. 

God, he had hoped. Somewhere, deep down, he had hoped that he wasn’t entirely alone, even if the loneliness was a fact he’d come to accept over the years. He had hoped that maybe one day, he’d find another Kryptonian out there who could tell him stories, or even what the stars looked like from his home planet because he was way too young to even remember. 

He anguishly dashes from one pod to another, spotting more familiar faces from the missing person photos. Faces that look like his𑁋that feel like home. Some older, some younger. All stolen from the world and stripped of the chance to live like him. They all contain the same lifeless visage as the others, the same fading look of longing that there was freedom out there, but he was too late. 

What had happened to them? Were they tortured? Experimented and researched on? Anger courses through him, and he shrugs off the disguise that had kept him alive this far. His cape unfurls behind him, and the crest on his suit is no longer hidden by grime and blood. 

The symbol of hope.

He stands in the middle of the room, surrounded by the shattered remains of his people. He feels the guilt eat away at his resolve as he kneels down to the ground. There’s a dreadful stillness in the room that follows, before he clenches his bare fists and slams harshly into the ground, the floor cracking slightly beneath him. 

It fucking hurts. 

The rage that rises in his chest is no longer a flame. It’s blazing, devouring. 

“It’s about time you showed up,” a voice says from behind, low and coiling around his nerves like the poison it is. “I was starting to think you’d turn on your tail and run away like your little girlfriend.”

Mingyu doesn’t turn around right away. His jaw tightens as he forces himself to rise to full height, pulling through the pain with gritted teeth. He doesn’t need strength to recognise the bastard standing behind him. 

He spins his head slowly, red-rimmed eyes meeting the smug, scarred face grinning at him from across the room.

Scarface is leaning against the doorframe, twirling a pistol between his fingertips. That ugly scar draws down his features like someone had tried to carve the smugness off his face and failed. Mingyu watches as he approaches him at a leisure pace, walking into the room like he’s the goddamn messiah of this butcher’s cathedral. 

“You piece of shit,” Mingyu rasps, chest heaving. “You killed them. You killed my people.”

Scarface clicks his tongue. “Killed? No, no.” He shakes his head amusedly. “We liberated them, sunshine. Gave them a purpose before their little brains shut down. You wouldn’t believe how much their bones would go for on the black market. Oh, you should’ve seen them, Kryptonian. Some of them lit up like fucking fireworks the second they got poked.”

Mingyu surges forward.

Or, he tries to.

But his knees buckle the moment he shifts his weight, a strangled noise escaping out of his throat as his legs give out beneath him. The green haze he’s been fighting since he stepped foot in this hellhole is suffocating him in. The very air is probably saturated in it. As he tries to lift himself again, it’s no use. His strength is barely there. The fire is there𑁋God, it’s there𑁋but his body is failing him. 

“Kryptonite’s a bitch, ain’t it?” Scarface squats down just a few feet away. “You know what’s really funny? I didn’t even need to do much. All I had to do was grab your girl, and you folded like a fucking piece of paper.”

Mingyu jerks his head up from that. “Don’t fucking talk about her.”

Scarface slams the butt of his pistol into Mingyu’s ribs, causing him to crumple down on the floor with a groan. 

“Struck a nerve, huh?” he sneers. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? So feisty too. All that attitude. It’s a shame, though. I can’t wait to see the sparkle leave her eyes when I’m finally done with you.”

That makes Mingyu snap again.

Mustering whatever strength he has, he manages to land a punch right at Scarface’s jaw. It catches the man off-guard, and Scarface stumbles back, momentarily stunned. But Mingyu watches as he recovers quickly, wiping the blood off his lips with a mocking smile. 

“That’s all you can do, eh?” Scarface spits angrily. “What a pity.”

“Why?” Mingyu pants heavily. “Why did you do this? To my people?” 

Scarface straightens his stance, letting out a dark, low chuckle. “Because you freaks don’t belong here.”

He gestures broadly to all the pods in the room, to all the still, frozen remnants of what Mingyu had once hoped were kin. 

“We let one of you walk among us𑁋fly above us𑁋and what do we get in return?” Scarface motions back to Mingyu. “We get broken cities, dead citizens, and a god playing dress-up in a cape thinking he knows what’s best for us.” 

“You slaughtered them,” Mingyu growls in frustration. God, he wants nothing more than to rip this man apart. “They were just trying to live. Trying to survive.” 

Scarface cocks his head to the side in amusement. “And look where that got them. Look where that got you. We took care of them before they had the chance to get power and control. You don’t get it, do you, alien? You think just because you can bleed and cry and kiss like the rest of us makes you human?”

The man steps closer to Mingyu, looming over him now, his footsteps brooding with each step. Scarface whistles annoyingly as he lowers his gun away, before pulling something out from his vest. Heat boils through Mingyu’s as another familiar syringe is summoned, the sickly glowing green of kryptonite reflecting on his skin. It’s almost as if the kryptonite itself is alive, hungry.

Mingyu doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. The veins in his neck pop from the pressure, but his eyes are made of steel. Unyielding. 

Scarface’s cracked lips twitch up into a smirk, taunting the fang of the needle closer and closer to his neck. 

“Finally! I can use this. Saved it for a special occasion, you see,” the man croons goadingly, letting the emerald fire of the kryptonite inside the syringe swirl. “Bullets and bombs are messy, but this? You’ll feel every second of it. And when it’s done, well… maybe I’ll put your corpse on display for the world to see that the perfect Superman can bleed. Can die. Can be humiliated.”

The tip of the syringe caresses over Mingyu’s carotid artery, just a whisper away from being injected into his body. If Scarface pressed a little harder, it would all be over. 

And then𑁋

A loud BOOM bursts through the room like thunder. 

A gun fires. 

But it doesn’t come from Scarface.

It comes from behind him, echoing like thunder across the room, the bullet lodging into the wall behind Mingyu.

“Get away from him,” a voice rings out shakily𑁋your voice. “Now.”

Scarface freezes, his entire body jerking as the bullet whooshes past him. His expression contorts from surprise to disbelieving amusement, the scar on his face contorting into a smirk. 

He turns his head slowly and spots you. You’re standing by the threshold, trembling hands gripping tightly onto a pistol that you snatched from one of his fallen minions. There’s a bruise to your cheek and your clothes and ID badge are covered with dirt, dried blood, and grime. Your chest is heaving with a mix of horror and fury, your body braced like the hells have cracked open beneath your feet and you’re struggling to stay above the surface. 

You’re terrified out of your mind, but you’re here.

And Superman𑁋no, Mingyu𑁋feels his heart stutter painfully in his chest, because damn, he’s never seen anything more braver in his life. 

Scarface’s eyes rake over you incredulously. “Well, look who decided to come and play the hero, hm?”

He places a singular foot in front of the other, and you aim your gun again.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” You threaten, trying to power through your sweaty palms and unsteady grip. 

Scarface raises his hands mockingly. “Sweetheart, I’m so scared. Look at you𑁋you’re trembling like a leaf.” He raises his gun back to you, which makes you stagger slightly. “Aren’t you just a journalist? Thinking you can play in the big leagues ‘cause you got a piece on the Daily Planet front page?” 

He stalks a little closer to you like a vulture, testing your nerves.

“Aliens like him don’t belong on this planet,” Scarface hisses. “And you? You think someone like him could ever really love someone like you? Come on, darling. Be honest with yourself. He’s a walking extinction event. One wrong move, and he burns you. He’s a threat to humanity.” 

The pistol in your grasp wavers. You feel it𑁋hesitation creeping through you like a dense, thick fog. The words prickle like the heat of a hot poker getting jabbed into your skin.

Scarface sees it. 

That tiny flicker of doubt. It’s all he needs to latch onto like a leech. His words seep through your body like venom. One wrong move, and he burns you. He’s a threat to humanity.

And on the side, Superman sees it as well.

The gun lowers in your hand. For a fraction of a second, you allow your thoughts to believe his words.

You’ve heard the rumours, watched the news, read the bylines that were initially published when Superman first came to light. The public loved him. Then feared him. Then loved him again. You always tried to remain neutral, like a good journalist always does. But somewhere between the time he had rescued your bag and to the kiss he gave you in the sky after the interview, your objectivity crumpled along with your heart. 

Wait. A bell rings in your head. The interview. 

“I’ve found my home here with people I care about,” he had said. “There’s something about this city that makes it hard not to love, you know?”

“Is that what you consider yourself?” You had asked him. “A symbol of hope?”

“Not exactly,” he had responded. “I think people deserve hope. I just want to remind them it’s still there.”

You remember it all𑁋the look of quiet sincerity in his eyes when he said it. The ache behind his words like he was carrying a galaxy of burdens, yet still managed to smile at you. 

“But here’s what I believe,” he had told you. “Even though I can’t save everyone, I know I saved someone. And maybe that person goes on to save others, and those others save more. That’s how hope survives𑁋it spreads, even in the places I can’t reach. And that… that’s worth the burden.”

Your gaze falls towards Superman, who is crumpled on the floor, veins bulging out of his neck, blood dripping at the corners of his mouth. He’s clutching his side with gritted teeth, practically at the verge of passing out; yet despite everything, despite how close death is wrapped around his ribs, his eyes𑁋God, his eyes𑁋are watching you like you’re the only other person in the room, like you’re the only goddamn star left in the sky. There’s no fear there. No regret. 

He’s still there. He’s still fighting.

“He’ll outlive you, sweetheart,” Scarface says with a chuckle. “He’ll outlive all of us. This stupid world is going to grow old and die, and he’ll be floating above the ashes looking down on us. And when you’re gone𑁋just another speck of dust in the wind𑁋he won’t even remember your name.”

You falter again. Just a blink. The words scratch at old insecurities like fingernails on scars. 

Your vision clouds, not from tears, but from uncertainty.

Scarface sees it like it’s his golden ticket. 

But then, there’s a cough. A weak one, yet it’s enough to break through the fog clouding your mind. Your gaze whips towards the source, and you’re met with an expression so heartbreakingly soft.

“Don’t listen to him,” Superman groans out, coughing hoarsely, and the utter familiarity of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Please. Don’t… let him in your head. I lo𑁋”

A gun fires. It happens in a blur: one second you’re frozen in place, the next your ears are ringing from the force of the shot, and there’s a pool of blood forming at your feet. The pistol clatters to the floor from your shaky hands as your steps stagger back slightly𑁋you don’t even recall pulling the trigger.

Scarface blinks.

He doesn’t fall. Not at first.

He just stares at you, stunned, as if you’ve grown a pair of wings or another head he hadn’t reckoned with before. Then there’s a twitch to his bloody mouth𑁋somewhere along the lines between a smirk or like he’s about to say one last vile, witty remark𑁋but his knees buckle beneath him, the kryptonite syringe falling from his hands and clattering to the ground. You watch in horror as his body collapses to the ground with a sickening thud. You’ve never seen blood pool faster than now, spreading throughout the steer floor below. 

You’re still holding your breath. You can’t even move, even breathe, your arms trembling at your sides 

The silence that follows is deafening. 

You stare at Scarface’s body, your mind completely blank, as if trying to reject the impossible deed you just committed. You just shot him. You killed someone. With the hands you used to type articles until dusk𑁋you used it to end a life. 

For some uneasy reason, you don’t feel heroic. You don’t feel strong. Gosh, you feel like you’re going to be sick. 

Then a low, pained grunt startles you out of your head. Superman. 

“You saved me.”

Your legs act before you could even catch up with it, finding yourself kneeling down to the ground, scrambling to pick him up on his feet, but you struggle. He’s heavier than he looks𑁋well, of course he is𑁋so you let your arms wrap around him instinctively, attempting to hoist him upright again. 

His body lurches in your hold as you’re barely able to drag him by a few feet to the door. It doesn’t take long for your effort to fail as he slumps back down to the floor again, dragging you down with him. Somewhere down the corridor, you can hear the rapid sounds of footsteps and radio chatter of emergency responders that you met when you escaped initially. You just need to hold him tighter for another minute. 

“Hey, hey, don’t do that𑁋shit, don’t close your eyes,” You plead desperately when you notice his eyes falling, brushing away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “Backup is coming. Stay with me. Please.”

“Fuck…” he croaks out weakly, and you feel his hand lace into yours. A weak grasp, but it’s there. It’s something. “Y/N, I…”

“Don’t talk,” You tell him softly, letting your free hand cradle his face to bring him into your chest. “You’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, Superman, you hear me?”

Superman breathes raggedly against your chest. You feel the way he’s burning up, see the way his eyelids are fluttering as he tries so goddamn hard to focus on your presence around him, hear the way he’s literally struggling to get his lungs to fucking work. But you still don’t let go. 

“He killed my… my people…” he rasps, a few dry coughs jolting out of him. “The missing people… they’re…”

If it was possible for your heart to physically break, you swear it does now. He doesn’t even need to finish the sentence for you to know exactly what he’s talking about. The room was entirely a blur when you stepped in initially, but with the quietness now and Scarface’s lifeless body on the floor, you can see it all. 

You remember all the photos in the files, all the reports about the missing people whose cases all went cold, unsolved, and discarded. They were never just missing people. They were survivors. And the two of you were too late to realise that. 

“I’m sorry.” You shelter him even closer to you, because you know there’s not much you can do except to hold him together as tightly as you can, even if he’s completely falling apart on the inside. “I’m so, so sorry…” 

You know that apologising could never bring his people back, yet Superman inhales your words even if it’s painful to do so, holding onto you even tighter, his warmth seeping into your skin. Blood and grime stains your shirt as he leans into you through the pain, his quiet sobs muffled as he buries his face in your chest. 

You press a warm, trembling kiss to the temple of his head. He doesn’t speak; no, he closes his eyes, dipping in and out of consciousness, and lets himself be held. 

“You’re safe now, Superman, okay? You’re safe with me.”

Above the two of you, the crest on Superman’s chest catches the overhead light, flickering weakly, but it never dims. Hope had barely survived. 

Beneath your feet, the city is peaceful. 

It’s been two weeks since the ordeal. Two weeks since Scarface’s body hit the floor. Two weeks since the sounds of gunfire etched itself permanently into your bones. Two weeks since the awful stench of sweat, blood, and gunpowder had stuck to your clothes no matter how many showers you took.

Two weeks since you saw Superman’s near-lifeless body being hauled through the hospital as the doctors and medical experts struggled to make sense of his alien biology𑁋every needle they poked through him broke on impact from his skin, but still, they didn’t give up on him. Refused to give up on him.  

Two weeks, and the city has begun to breathe again mostly. 

You haven’t slept much since.

The DOD have been working on reprimanding other criminals who had access to the kryptonite trade, and the kryptonite shipments that were found within the sketchy warehouses in Pier 13 had been confiscated as well. Details were still being poured in, but all you know is that the kryptonite is finally out of harm’s way. At least, for now.

People have been calling you a hero, a survivor. Some of your colleagues have written a little tribute column in you and Superman’s honour. You didn’t ask for it. You didn’t exactly want it. The attention has been overwhelming, to say the least.

You had just gotten through your first day back after requesting some time off to recalibrate. Now, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the rooftop at the Daily Planet. You pull your cardigan tighter around you as the evening breeze rustles through your hair. You take a sip from a can of beer𑁋a second one at your feet for good measure. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around to the voice, a faint smile when you catch Mingyu walking up to you. The glasses on his face catch the faintest sparkle from the moonlight. He’s clad in his usual attire𑁋a denim jacket, a white shirt, and a pair of baggy denim jeans𑁋and his hands in his pockets as if he’s unsure of his own presence right now. You had sent him an email a few hours again telling him that you’d be staying late tonight.

It seems that showing up is his response. 

“Hey,” You greet him quietly.

Mingyu slowly saunters over to where you are. He doesn’t sit down at first, but then you nudge towards the second can of beer by your feet.

“Peace offering,” You say with a light chuckle. “It’s probably warm now, but whatever.”

A small laugh escapes him as he sits down beside you, the tip of his knee touching yours when he crosses his legs together. He takes the can of beer and opens it with a sharp click, taking a quick sip of his own. 

Mingyu shoots a quick glance at you, watching the way your gaze is lingering out to the mellow, peaceful, blissfully unaware city. He allows himself to look out to the world as well, with the stars hanging low in the sky as if they’re curiously eavesdropping on this strange little moment. The two of you take another sip from your cans, letting the silence stretch in the air. It’s not uncomfortable𑁋not entirely, anyway. It’s quiet, calm, like the city has exhaled for the first time in a long while. 

“Did you know I spent the night in juvie once?” You suddenly pop in.

Mingyu’s brow furrows in surprise. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” You confirm, shaking your head to the memory. “I was fourteen. Dumb, broke, and angry at the world like any other teenager. Stole some makeup from the local pharmacy. Got caught before I even stepped through the door.” 

Mingyu huffs a soft laugh beside you. It wasn’t mocking, just simple disbelief about this little detail of your life. “That’s hard to imagine.”

“Well, I also had purple hair. Oh, and a lip piercing. Did it with a safety pen,” You add in with a dry laugh. “Wouldn’t recommend it at all.”

He grins softly at that. He tries to imagine it𑁋he really does𑁋but all he can see is you. Even with your past little rebel phase, you’re still the same person with a fire-lit soul he first saw when you were tackling this entire case, scribbling away in the depths of your cubicle and rummaging through endless files in the archive room with a sharp tongue and a guarded heart. 

You haven’t changed, not really. Just a little older, a little stronger. Maybe a little more tired. 

“I grew up in a place that never really felt like home,” You continue, cradling the can of beer in your hands. “Parents were always busy trying to keep the lights on. I bounced between schools and hardly stuck around enough to make proper friends.”

You feel Mingyu’s eyes on you. He’s listening, steady and patient as always. 

“Then I started writing to keep myself sane,” You confess. “Started with dumb teenage poetry, angsty blog posts, then… it sort of turned into something more real. I stole a newspaper from the library, read this piece about corruption with the mayor at the time. Something about it just clicked for me.”

Mingyu notices the way your features soften with relief. 

“So, I cleaned myself up,” You continue with a smile. “Wrote shit for the newsletter in high school, got a few internships in college. One thing led to another and well… Here I am. I don’t know if Seungcheol even looked at my resume.”

“He did,” Mingyu chimes in playfully. “Well, not exactly. More like flaunted about you.”

You snort at that, clearly amused. “That so?”

“Clearly you’re good at what you do, or else he would’ve been accused of nepotism by now,” Mingyu says with a teasing grin, before it eases into something more bashful. “And… you are, um, good. Amazing, even. I admire you. I’m sure the rest of the world would agree, too.”

Your chest tightens at his words. It’s crazy how he’s able to disarm you just like that. Kim Mingyu, the guy who spilled coffee on your shirt the first day you met. Kim Mingyu, who brings you over sweetened coffee when he knows you’ve had a rough morning. Kim Mingyu, who caught you in his arms in the archive room when you nearly slipped on some fallen files. 

Kim Mingyu, who tried to protect you from publishing the exposé on the kryptonite trade. Who stupidly ran back into the Daily Planet even with the bomb threatening the entire building. Who promised to come back, but he didn’t, and then he did𑁋

Kim Mingyu, who… may or may not be Superman.

And Superman, who you’ve kissed.

“What were you like?” You suddenly ask, turning to Mingyu slightly. “Growing up?” 

Mingyu takes another sip of his beer, and you catch the way his shoulders stiffen before relaxing quickly. His eyes flicker𑁋not toward you, not toward the city𑁋to somewhere far away. There’s the faintest hint of hesitation when the can leaves his mouth. You don’t rush him. You know how to wait.

“I grew up on a farm,” he finally answers, a wistful look to his face. “I was, um… adopted when I was younger. It was just me, my parents, my sister, and our dog. They were good people. And it was nice living out in the countryside. Peaceful, even.” 

“You? On a farm?” 

Mingyu turns to you. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“No, of course I do. It’s just…” Your voice trails off, fondness glazing over your features. “Just trying to imagine it, you know. Little Kim Mingyu running around in the cornfields with mud on his knees and a head too big for his body.”

A genuine laugh bubbles out of him. “Well, you aren’t that far off, I guess. Used to trip over my own feet all the time.”  

You hum against the rim of the can. “Explains the permanent clumsiness.”

Mingyu huffs in mock offense at that, wearing that familiar, warm, boyish grin to his lips. 

“And science journalism?” You question curiously. “What made you want to get into that?”

“Always had this sort of… curiosity about the world.” He gives a small shrug, fingers tapping against the can. “I was, uh… really into astronomy too. I used to stay up all night looking through this janky telescope my dad snagged from a yard sale. Guess I just wanted to know what’s out there, how things worked and whatnot.”

What Mingyu doesn’t tell you is that he used to look through the telescope in the hopes of finding any remnants of his origins, of his home. Not the little farmhouse with the creaky porch swing or the kind faces who raised him with warm hands and warmer hearts. No, he means the kind of home that stretched light years away, a place that echoed in his bones with a certain ache he couldn’t name. A home he had never truly seen, but felt nonetheless. 

He doesn’t say any of it; instead, he tucks it away with a remorseful sip of beer. When he glances back to you, you seem almost lost in thought again.

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

You can’t tell if it’s the alcohol buzzing through your veins or something else. “Yeah. Just… rough couple of weeks.”

Mingyu lets his eyes trail over you. The bruise to your cheek has almost entirely faded𑁋a clear reminder of the hell you’ve been through𑁋but the memory of everything hasn’t. Though to him, you still look stronger and more beautiful than ever. 

“We survived a bombing, I got fucking kidnapped, then I shot a horrible man in cold blood and it just𑁋” Your lips form a tight line. “And yet, despite all of that, I… The only thing that’s been making me stay up these nights is the fact that I fell in love with two different men.”

Mingyu freezes beside you. You don’t even have to look at him to know that he’s panicking. The breezes seem to pick up a little harder, tucking and sending strands of your hair flying that you don’t bother to fix. 

“God, I-I sound like an absolute homewrecker,” You mutter in disbelief, clicking your tongue, before fully turning to face him. “Because how is it possible that I’m able to fall for you, and him𑁋Superman𑁋at the same time?”

The words hang in the air like lightning preparing to strike. And suddenly, Mingyu forgets how to breathe. 

“I kissed him𑁋he kissed me after the interview.” Your voice grows louder now, more certain. “It wasn’t just a quick peck. It was real. Then I looked at him, and maybe it was the adrenaline, or that I’ve gone insane. But for a split second, I swear to God, I saw you, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu’s lips part as if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. You watch the way his fingers tighten around the can, the soft crinkle of aluminum breaking under his grip. He doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. His gaze only lingers straight ahead. 

You keep going. 

“I thought I was going crazy,” You go on, powering through your shaky voice. “That maybe this stupid crush I’ve had on you since the day we met was getting to me. But then I thought more𑁋how you showed up late for meetings, how you disappeared after the heist, how you caught me in the archive room, how you tried to stop me from publishing the exposé… how you look at me.” 

The silence between you both is probably more deafening and terrifying then when you shot Scarface, but this silence is filled with revelation. It means everything. 

“You’re him, aren’t you?”

He still doesn’t say anything. The only sound you hear is the crumple of the beer can from his tight grip. 

“Mingyu.” The way his name rolls out of your mouth hits Mingyu more painful than anything else. “Say something, please. Tell me I’m just projecting, or that I’m drunk or delusional or traumatised𑁋just something.” 

Mingyu’s throat bobs. His jaw clenches. His eyes close and reopen slowly, and he exhales a breath as if it hurts. 

“I’m not him, Y/N,” he admits finally, voice careful𑁋too careful.

But it doesn’t sound convincing. Not even a little.

And he knows it.

You know it, too.

A part of you wants to laugh, or cry. Or to shake him, kiss him, and hold him all at once. You barely even register standing up, your near-empty beer can forgotten on the floor.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” You retort back bitterly.

He stands up as well. “I’m not lying.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not𑁋”

“I’m a goddamn journalist, Mingyu.” You throw your arms out dramatically. “I live off of facts, off truths. I know when I’m being lied to.”

You hate how your voice cracks at the end. You’re not even mad, not in the way you thought you’d be. You’re hurt. You’re exhausted. And still, you love him. Even if you can’t provide definitive proof that the guy you kissed in the sky felt exactly like the man you love on the ground, your heart knows. It knows, and it’s pounding so damn hard it may as well crack through your ribs and scream it all out. 

Mingyu feels so torn, like he’s standing between two burning buildings collapsing in on him. This awful lump is lodged in his throat, his fists clenched at his side, but his feet won’t move, even if his own heart is telling him to. He’s still trying to protect something𑁋maybe you, maybe himself, maybe from this paper-thin illusion that he can still tape up, even with the tears showing.

Then, he watches in shock when you take a step backwards, near the edge of the rooftop. The rush of air from being thirty stories up teases up and down your back. 

“Y/N,” he warns in panic, his body tensing. “Don’t you dare.”

You don’t know what kind of madness is possessing you right now. Perhaps it’s from the lack of sleep the past two weeks, the fact you drank an entire can of warm beer, or from the sheer desperation of needing him to tell you the truth. The real truth that has been digging in the crevices of your bones ever since you looked into Superman’s eyes and saw Kim Mingyu staring back at you. 

Your heel bumps the ledge.

“I trust you, Mingyu,” You mutter shakily. “I always have.”

You take a breath.

And then you do the most stupidest, bravest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life: you fall.

The world tilts before your eyes, the rush of wind overpowering the scream of your name that Mingyu yells out. 

The city below rushes up to meet you, the air roaring like a wind turbine through your ears, the gravity tearing your stomach inside out. You can’t breathe and can hardly think; hell, you don’t even scream. Time slows just enough for a single thought to push through: This is how I die. This is how I find out I’m wrong.

The windows of the Daily Planet all become a kaleidoscope of blurred lights as you plummet past them. The rooftop disappears into the tiniest speck in your vision, the ledge you just stood on now impossibly far away. You’re starting to feel the inevitable cold claw of death latching around you.

You feel weightless and heavy all at once.

Your heart clenches in your chest, your eyelids fluttering to a close. Your limbs are flailing around on instinct to reach for something, anything. Then, you brace yourself to hit the ground because you’re falling, fuck, you’re actually falling, and there’s no going back now𑁋that maybe this was all just delusion disguised as hope, that maybe𑁋

The world suddenly halts.

A gasp flies out of your mouth, ripping out of your lungs like they’ve just remembered how to function. You find your chest pressed against another body. Firm. Familiar. Powerful. Your eyes fly open as your entire form jolts against the abrupt stop, the wind rushing around you more calmly as you realise you’re ascending, not descending. 

Then you finally look at him. His glasses are still on somehow, dark hair messed up from the force of the wind, his eyes wide with fear and panic𑁋but unmistakably Kim Mingyu. Superman.

Warmth radiates off his skin as he clings onto you, his arms tightened like a lock around your waist. You feel the way his chest rises and falls with each panicked, shallow breath he takes. There’s a tremble to his body𑁋not from exertion or the flight𑁋but from the sheer terror that he nearly lost you. 

You let your arms circle around his neck, pressing closer to him. 

“Are you insane?!” Mingyu chokes out, the clouds around the two of you billowing as he slows to a hover, away from the city, the noise, the doubt. “What the hell was that?!”

You don’t answer at first. You simply just stare up at him, the high from your adrenaline receding into something more softer, tender, raw. The city is practically swallowed by the clouds underneath you as the two of you hover in the air, existing in this space between heaven and earth, between truth and lie. 

“You caught me,” You whisper. 

“Of course, I did𑁋Jesus Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Mingyu rasps breathlessly. “If I was just a second too late, you could’ve𑁋fuck𑁋”

“But I didn’t,” You cut him off gently. “Because I was right. I knew you’d catch me.”

Mingyu swallows hard. His eyes search yours like he’s trying to find some other outcome, still hoping that in some way, you don’t see the truth and that he can walk away from all of this. But it’s over. You know, and he knows you know. You’ve always dug deeper, looked harder than anyone else𑁋hell, it’s your job.

And maybe in some twisted, beautiful way, you were meant to find him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly. “I… I wanted to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t. Because if I told you, you’d see me differently. I would’ve put you in danger. God, I just wanted to be normal for you. To be Mingyu for you. Not the guy who can fly or lift buildings for a living.”

“We already lived through the danger, and survived,” You tell him desperately, your fingers digging into the fabric of his clothes. “And I’m still here. I never left and I don’t plan to. You don’t have to be so brave around me, you know.”

His body goes rigid from your words as if someone had punched him in the gut with a force that could rival a hundred bullets being shot at him. His grip on you never eases; if anything, he holds you even tighter, fingers tracing aimlessly circles at your waist as if trying to remind himself that you’re here. You’re real.

Mingyu hears your heartbeat thundering your chest, and he swears to himself it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“You terrify me.” His lips twitch upwards. “And dammit, I love you for it.”

Your breath hitches at that. The air around you grows silent, like the world itself is holding its breath as well. You reach up to trail a finger down his cheek, before tenderly cupping his face in your hand. Mingyu leans into your warmth as if he’s waited a hundred lifetimes to be allowed this. 

His eyes fall to a close before reopening again to look at you. But it isn’t just a glance𑁋no, he’s looking like he’s trying to memorise you, like he’s afraid to even blink. 

“I love you too,” You confess quietly.

Then you kiss him.

It’s soft, almost uncertain at first𑁋just a tentative brush of your mouth against his. Mingyu’s breath catches the second your lips meet his, his eyes widening for a split moment as he peers down at you with nothing but longing.

Then he simply just chuckles, low and breathless. His hands slowly trail their way up your spine, his other hand wrapping around more protectively around your waist. He tilts his head adoringly, pauses to blink, before leaning to press his mouth back to yours. This time, the kiss is deeper. Slower. And so impossibly gentle it nearly breaks you.

He’s kissing you like Kim Mingyu, and holding you like Superman.

Your hand reaches up to cradle the nape of his neck, fingers lightly threading through his hair. A sigh leaves him from your touch𑁋a breath of surrender, of relief, of finally, sending trembles all the way down to your toes. His nose barely brushes against yours as the angle shifts slightly, his chapped lips molding more fully into yours, coaxing your mouth open with a sweetness that sets your skin ablaze in the softest, most devastating way. 

The clouds hug dreamily around the two of you as you part away for air. You find your foreheads pressed against one another, your hand drifting to rest on his chest. You feel the way his heart is pounding, as if it’s overfilled to the brim with nothing but love. He’s holding you like you’re something fragile, precious, his. 

“You make me feel human,” Mingyu whispers shakily. “Like I belong somewhere.”

You tenderly brush the tip of your finger over his cheekbone. 

“You are human, Mingyu,” You tell him reassuringly. “Because only someone truly human would love the way you do.”

He stares at you like he doesn’t deserve to be looked this way. All his life he’s always been… different. He was the third grader who’d run away into the janitor’s closet crying because he accidentally broke the swing set at recess. The teenager who couldn’t join any sports due to the fear he’d break someone’s ribs. The adult who could save the world but never fully belong in it. 

But here, in your arms and under your gaze, he’s never felt more safe, wanted, and loved. 

Mingyu leans in again, littering tiny kisses over your skin𑁋from your forehead, to your nose, your cheek, a lingering one to your lips, each one eliciting a low giggle out of you. The sound makes his heart swell.

When he pulls back, there’s a breath of hesitation in the air. His gaze silently flickers between your eyes, to your mouth, and back up to your eyes again.

“Can I, uh…” He swallows thickly. “Can I… take you home?”

You blink dazedly at that, but as the words register, the corners of your lips twitch upwards. 

“Take me home?” You echo teasingly. “Is this your way of seducing me?” 

Mingyu’s ears instantly grow red.

“What? No𑁋I mean, yes𑁋wait, shit, that’s not what I𑁋” He fumbles over his words like he’s completely short-circuiting. And honestly, he really is. “I didn’t mean it like that𑁋okay, maybe I did, but𑁋fuck.”

You can’t help but laugh. Like really laugh. The kind of laugh that bubbles from deep within your chest and makes you throw your head back at his sheer adorableness. He’s literally stammering like a teenage boy trying to ask out his crush to prom. The sound of your laughter curls around Mingyu like sunlight, the tips of ears growing warmer from embarrassment. 

“Mingyu,” You call his name after taking a minute to recover. “Relax. I’m just teasing.”

A sheepish pout crosses his features. “You’re evil, you know that? You’re gonna kill me one day.”

“You’re literally invincible.”

“Not to you.”

His words make your smile falter𑁋just for a second, your heartbeat thudding unevenly in your chest.

“I just… I want to be real with you,” Mingyu continues bashfully. “I want to hold you when I fall asleep and wake up to you in the morning. I want to take you on a thousand dates and argue about who left the dishes in the sink. I want… more than just saving the world. I want to do everything with you.”

Then his voice dips just slightly lower, still plagued with that certain shyness.

“And yeah, I want to kiss you. A lot. Probably for the rest of my life,” he adds in with a smile, before it softens. “And maybe more than that. If… if you want that, too.”

Your lips part slowly, warmth blooming throughout your body. You simply stare at him. Not because you’re surprised𑁋as you literally fell off a building just to prove your stupid heart right𑁋but because of how goddamn earnestly, nervously, hopefully he says it. Like the thought of having you is still something he doesn’t deserve.

You want it all with him, too.

“Okay,” is all you say.

His eyes widen. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” You cup his face again, caressing a finger over the corner of his lip. “Take me home, Superman.”

Mingyu’s arms only tighten around you, and he presses one last kiss to your temple.

“Hold on tight.”

And then, the two of you are soaring through the skies.

Mingyu lands you back at your apartment.

It’s quiet inside. Your feet brush against the old wooden flooring, which is scruffed and faded in some spots. The walls are pretty much bare of any childhood relics except for an old photograph or two. Mingyu spots shelves of old case files, stacked notebooks, and a tiny little succulent plant. The couch appears second-hand, a little sunken in the middle, with a blanket on the arm that’s seen better days. 

There’s a kind of loneliness in the walls that Mingyu picks up immediately. It’s lived in, but barely. You’ve never really let anyone in here.

Still, Mingyu doesn’t say a word.

You watch the way his gaze trails over every crevice of your apartment, as if he’s stepping into a secret, into your own heart. And in a way, he is. He’s been to the edges of space and seen the worst humanity has to offer𑁋yet being in your little half-empty apartment is what feels the most real.

You find yourself pouring a glass of water in the kitchen as Mingyu’s fingers curiously trail over some of your old investigative journalism textbooks on the shelf.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not much,” You mutter, placing the glass back on the counter. “Never really felt the need to decorate, honestly.”

The emptiness of your apartment doesn’t bother him𑁋it never could. Mingyu crosses the room without a word, and you hardly have time to process his presence as his arms wrap around you from behind. You melt into him naturally, his warmth seeping through the layers of your clothes and caressing over your skin. 

As his breath hits the shell of your ear, tingles run up and down your spine.

“It’s perfect,” he mutters. “You let me in. That’s more than enough.” 

Before you have a chance to respond, he kisses you.

Not on the lips, not yet𑁋he presses his mouth to the nape of your neck, then another one to your shoulder, tracing his little constellations on your skin along the way. You shudder from his touch, knees almost buckling, and you feel the smile on his face as he chuckles into your neck. 

“Mingyu…”

Mingyu hums against your skin. “Mhm?”

You nearly combust when his kiss lands near your collarbone.

“Do you, uh…” You start, already breathless. “...want to go to my bedroom?”

Mingyu lifts his head at your question. You don’t even have to turn to know he’s already smiling.

Before you can say anything more, he’s spinning you around and scooping you up in his arms effortlessly like you weigh literally nothing. Your legs instinctively wrap around his torso, a surprised yelp leaving your lips.

“Jeez! Warn a girl first!” You gasp, half-panicked, half-excited.

“Sorry, baby,” he mutters with a grin, arms wrapped securely around your thighs. “Perks of the job.”

He carries you through your little apartment with confidence. Your head rests on his shoulder, your giggles mingling in the heavy air together as he strides down a small hallway. When he arrives in front of a door, he nudges it open with his foot𑁋before realising it’s your bathroom.

“Mingyu! That’s the bathroom!”

“Shit, sorry!” He backtracks quickly, embarrassment flooding his cheeks as he tightens his hold on you. “My glasses don’t let me use my x-ray vision here! I’m working with human eyes right now.” 

You practically die of laughter in his arms, hearing him grumble something under his breath before arriving at the correct door. He gives the door a little poke with his shoulder, and as he steps over the threshold into your bedroom, the air seems to thicken even more.

Just like the rest of your apartment, there’s nothing much here either. Just a bed, with disheveled mismatched sheets that you didn’t bother to fix in the morning, and a singular lamp flickering right next to it. Under the window, moonlight pours all over a small desk that has a bunch of scattered papers and an unopened laptop. A few pieces of clothing are sprawled out on the floor, and you silently curse at yourself for not being more prepared for this. 

Even then, Mingyu treats it as if it’s your palace, and that you’re the queen within it. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed, bringing you snugly into his lap. His arms don’t let go of your waist, and his eyes never leave your face. 

You’re straddling him now, knees pressing into the bed on either side of his thighs. Your hands rest lightly on his shadows, and he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes as if he’s in complete awe of you. As if he can’t believe you’re real, and you’re here, and you’re his. 

“You’re shaking.”

“I know,” he breathes out. “I just… don’t want to hurt you.”

You shake your head at that. “You won’t. I trust you.”

That makes Mingyu pause for a moment, as if your words hit him square in the goddamn chest. Mingyu hardly trusts his own strength, and especially in a situation like this, he would never forgive himself if he were to hurt you. Whether it’s intimately, emotionally, anything, he’s never been more afraid of breaking something so precious as you. 

But you said you trust him, and that makes him want to be better, softer, stronger all at once. Just for you.

He leans in to kiss you again. This time, it’s a lot less playful, less teasing. Just slow, deliberate, and so goddamn soft you might as well spontaneously combust. Your hands instinctively wrap around him, his denim jacket falling off his shoulders and landing somewhere on the floor. You barely even register it coming off𑁋too lost in the way his lips mold sweetly and perfectly against yours. 

When he pulls back, his eyes remain peering up at you through those dorky glasses, at the way your lips are kiss-swollen and body heaving with shallow breaths. You don’t even have to hear him say anything, but you understand what he’s trying to convey: I want this, but only if you want it too. There’s a flicker of hesitation, before he reaches down to grab the hem of his white shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.

You immediately freeze up.

Because holy shit.

He’s sculpted like a statue. Like Michelangelo said fuck this, let’s sculpt Mingyu. Even in your shitty apartment lighting, his golden skin radiates. You know that he’s strong𑁋you’ve seen the way his suit hugs his figure and how he walks around at work not realising he’s built like a Calvin Klein supermodel𑁋but nothing could’ve prepared you for this. 

Your eyes trace over the smooth lines of muscle over his body, over his chiseled torso and abs that look as if they’re carved from literal stone, over his stupidly kissable collarbones. You’re not even sure what to do with your hands. Or your lungs, at this point. 

When Mingyu notices how stunned you are, he blushes. Blushes.  

“I𑁋was that too fast?” he questions bashfully. “Sorry, I just thought𑁋”

“No,” You respond too quickly, still practically gawking at him like a Victorian woman seeing an ankle for the first time. “It’s okay. You’re just… a lot to take in.”

“Do you want me to put it back on?” he asks sheepishly.

A scandalised look crosses your face. “No. God, no. Don’t you dare.” You lean in to press a kiss over the skin covering his heart, one of your hands caressing down his stomach. You hear the sharp inhale that escapes him, and you smirk against his skin. “I love seeing you like this.”

You meet him back eye-level, reaching to grab the frames of his glasses, pausing for a moment to ask permission with your eyes. When he gives you the faintest of nods, you slide the glasses off his face and set them aside, and you’re met with the most beautiful, warmest, honey-brown eyes ever. 

You’ve seen his eyes before, obviously. But without the glasses, without the disguise, they’re more piercing than ever. You feel as if you’re staring into a pair of galaxies, and you could pinpoint all the stars within them. He isn’t just Superman. He’s also Mingyu. Your Mingyu.

“Hi,” You whisper.

He smiles bashfully. “Hi.”

You almost want to laugh. You’re both ridiculous. Because here you are, nervous like two hormonal teenagers and blushing like you weren’t close to dying not that long ago. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him, thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

Mingyu kisses the inside of your palm. “I think I’m freaking out. In a good way, of course.”

You smile at that, leaning in to press your forehead against his. You hear the shaky exhale that leaves him, before his head tilts to meet your lips again. You feel his fingers trail up your waist, pushing off the cardigan you’re wearing off your shoulders, as his mouth moves down even further.

Your breath hitches when you feel his lips meet the corner of your jaw, then down to the curve of your neck, his fingertips hesitantly slipping underneath the hem of your top like he’s asking for permission to keep going. He’s giving you time to stop this if you want, but you don’t. You don’t want him to stop. 

You answer by lifting your arms up, letting him pull your shirt off to join the other clothes on the floor. You’re left in just your bra now, and Mingyu just stares.

He doesn’t pounce on you𑁋just lets his gaze roam over your form like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. His jaw tightens with restraint as he drinks you in, taking in even the tiniest imperfections that dot all over you, his hands adoring every sight of new skin being revealed to him. You barely have any sort of chance to feel self-conscious when he kisses you again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing a line of kisses over your collarbone, the curve above your breast, and one above your heart. “Every part of you.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m half-naked on top of you,” You retort playfully.

His brows draw together at that as he glances up at you mischievously. “I’m saying it because it’s true, sweetheart. The half-naked part is just a bonus.” 

Your laughter dissolves into a breathy sigh as his thumbs tread tenderly over your ribcage. You move your hips again𑁋just a subtle, completely unintentional grind on his lap, enough to have a sound that nearly resembles a whimper tumbling out of his throat, and his hands gripping onto your hips a little more tighter. 

“Sorry,” You murmur breathlessly, though there’s a sparkle of mischief in your eyes. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he breathes out, voice low and wrecked. “Never be sorry𑁋fuck, angel, you’re driving me crazy…”

It’s so hard to take in the fact that someone so powerful𑁋someone who literally has the power to lift up a tank on his shoulders as if it’s light as a feather𑁋is trying so hard to be so gentle with you. Like he’s terrified that one wrong move shatters you, when all you want him to do is pull you closer. 

Your fingers comb through his hair as he nuzzles his face in your shoulder, taking in the way you feel, smell, and taste. 

“Superman always takes care of everybody,” You start when it’s your turn to be littering kisses at the skin of his neck. “Saves the world, the city, strangers, me𑁋but… who takes care of you?”

He stills. Just for a second. His grip on your waist loosens imperceptibly, before tightening back. You see the way the question runs around his head as if it’s his first time ever being asked something so vulnerable. 

“I… I don’t know,” he answers unsurely. 

Your heart breaks and comes back together all at once.

“Then let me,” You insist softly. “From now on, from however long you want me, let me.”

Mingyu looks up at you with hopeful, puppy eyes. 

“And if I want forever?”

You give him a smile.

“I can do forever.”

You don’t know who leans in first. You don’t exactly know how the straps of your bra have fallen over your shoulder either. All you do know is that you’re suddenly underneath him this time, and he’s still kissing you. Hungrier. Needier. 

The bed dips slightly as Mingyu fully climbs on top now, one leg slotted between yours as you find yourself practically melting into the mattress. His body is the personification of a living furnace as his chest presses against yours, skin against skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.

You roll your hips against him once more to chase that particular friction over the hardness of his jeans, and he has to muffle away a groan into your shoulder. He rocks himself up to meet you halfway with a low sigh into your neck, the two of you finding a rhythm that has heat spiraling down both of your bodies and for your brains to grow foggy. 

“You’re so𑁋shit, you’re so perfect,” he rasps, voice barely audible from the needy sighs spilling out of your mouth. “You feel so good, baby.”

The muscles on his back tense when he feels your hands explore themselves over them, breath hitching against your throat. Your fingertips caress over the ridges of his spine, tracing the slope of his shoulder blades, curling into the soft messiness of his hair. Mingyu swears that perhaps you have your own kind of superpower𑁋of making him so undeniably, fondly, helpless for you. 

Bullets break in half when they hit him, he’s prevented literal buildings from falling over, and could bend steel with the singular twirl of his fingers. But when you’re here, underneath him, kissing him and making noises he’ll replay in his mind for the rest of his days, he turns into literal mush. Kryptonite isn’t the only thing that weakens him.

It’s you. 

“I think I understand it now,” he mutters against your skin.

Your body buzzes with heat as you look at him. “What?”

Mingyu pulls back to look at you, a lump bobbing in his throat. 

“Desire.”

He says the word like it’s some otherworldly discovery. As if he’s heard it from somewhere, maybe read about it, seen it when lovers skip down the streets with their hands clasped together. But he’s never felt it like this. Not until now. Not until you. 

“I never knew it could feel like this,” he says quietly. “This need to… touch you. Be close with you. Not just physically, but gosh, hearing your heartbeat makes me go insane.”

You giggle at that, and it sends a cheeky, silly smile crawling over Mingyu’s face. He watches the way your face lights up when you laugh. You’re always so scarily serious all the time when you’re in your zone, but now? Now you’re all soft and radiant and so unfairly sexy in a way that makes him ache to know what other things he can make you feel. 

“Mingyu?”

Mingyu hovers above you, one hand propping him up beside your head and the other drawing circles near the waistband of your pants. “Yeah?”

“I want you,” You confess. It doesn’t come off shy, not anymore. “You… don’t have to hold back with me, okay? You can let go𑁋I want you to.”

That’s what undoes him right there. He gives you the most affectionate grin known to mankind. 

“Okay,” Mingyu breathes, a singular breath away from your lips. “Okay. Letting go. I… I can do that.”

This time, when he kisses you, it feels like you’re flying again.

Mingyu makes love to you just like how he fights𑁋with the same passionate fire in his veins and the protectiveness of someone willing to break himself before he ever lets harm touch you. And it isn’t just about pleasure; no, it’s about safety. It’s about surrender. Vulnerability. 

It’s about loving you with the same unrelenting force he uses to save the world𑁋this time, only softer. Sweeter. And only a certain type of love that belongs to you.

The second you check the time on your watch, the elevator dings in front of you. 

Your heels clack against the floor as you step inside with a sigh, pressing a button to your desired floor. Your bag is slung loosely over your shoulder, the strap threatening to fall off from the weight of your laptop and whatever the hell you have inside is. You’re too busy scrolling through your upcoming meeting agenda on your phone. The Daily Planet is as alive as ever for a Monday morning, but here, you’re lucky you can breathe for once. 

You catch sight of your reflection on the mirrored walls on the elevator before leaning back against the cold metal with a sigh, letting your eyes flicker close for a moment as the door starts to close. 

But before the doors are able to seal shut, there’s a sudden clang, and the metal shudders as if it’s been crushed with some kind of forceful pressure. 

You jolt in surprise as the elevator doors groan back open, revealing none other than Kim Mingyu clambering clumsily inside wearing an extremely apologetic expression on his face. He takes his hand off the elevator door, where you notice a visible dent had formed from what you assume to be how hard he grabbed the damn thing. 

“Shit,” Mingyu mutters, staring at the dent like a guilty puppy as the elevators struggle to close back again. “I didn’t mean to do that, I swear.”

You roll your eyes. “Gyu, that is literally government property.”

He winces at that. “I got too excited!”

“For what?”

“...seeing you.”

Your expression softens despite yourself, struggling to bite back a smile as Mingyu places himself right next to you, your shoulders momentarily brushing. His hair is a tad bit windswept from probably flying here, and his glasses slightly askew on his nose. Half of his dress shirt is tucked into a pair of dark slacks, his tie half-done, and yet, he still looks like the most kissable man on Earth right now.

As the elevator begins to rise slowly, Mingyu glances over at you too. 

“You look nice today,” he points out casually.

You blink, peering down at your own outfit. It wasn’t too much out of the ordinary𑁋just a more structured blazer, a formal blouse, a bit more effort in your makeup, and your hair styled in a way when you actually want to appear like you have your shit together.

“Thank you.” You clear your throat, warmth sprouting in your cheeks. “Got a meeting later in the afternoon with out-of-town journalists. Thought looking intimidating would make it go by faster.”

A grin crosses Mingyu’s face as his eyes roam over you once more. “Well, you do look intimidatingly hot, if I do say so myself.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Mingyu.”

“What?” His grin only widens. “Is flirting with my girlfriend a crime now?”

You try to glare at him, but it’s not effective at all with the way you’re suppressing a stupidly fond smile. “Flattery won’t fix this elevator door.”

“That’s totally unrelated.”

“It looks like a rhino charged head first into it.”

Mingyu chuckles sheepishly. “I’ll… fix it tomorrow, maybe. After hours. No one will know. Or I can bribe maintenance with cookies again.”

You could only scoff. He’s such a dork.

The elevator hums as it continues its ascent into the upper floors of the building. Right next to you, Mingyu’s hand brushes against yours. First by complete accident, second on purpose. You don’t pull away when his pinky nudges against yours. Instead, you allow your fingers to lace around his, and you immediately feel the way he relaxes. 

It’s quiet in the moments that follow, yet your heart is completely betraying you and you know he can hear it.

The two of you have been together for almost five months at this point, and yet, it feels like it’s only ever been day one. The hardest part was keeping your relationship a secret at first, especially from the newsroom, but then Minghao told you that you both have been fairly obvious ever since the kryptonite case. You didn’t even try to deny it because there was no point.

Especially not when Mingyu would sometimes hover outside your bedroom window, tapping gently on the glass to say hi before flying off on another rescue mission. Or when your coworkers always noticed the two of you walking in and out of the building together. Or when you’d randomly go missing for lunch and return all flushed, hair tousled, and somehow in a better mood. 

You turn to face him, letting go of his hand momentarily to fix his tie, tugging gently at the silk resting at the base of his throat. You feel his hands trail down your waist as he stands still while you tighten it. When your fingers brush over his collarbones, he tenses naturally, though he still wears that boyish smile to his face.

“Still meeting me for dinner tonight?” he asks.

You smooth out his dress shirt over his chest. “Depends. Are you flying me to Paris or Italy this time?” 

Mingyu hums contemplatively, his fingers tightening a little more around your waist. “Hm, I was thinking more like Greece. Or Japan, maybe. I know you’ve always wanted to go there. Heard it’s cherry blossom season over there.”

You tilt your head as you pretend to think. “Tough choice. Greek sunsets or Japanese cherry blossoms?”

“Baby, I could take you to both, you know.”

You snort, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Clearly you forgot we have actual jobs that require us to, I don’t know, show up.”

Mingyu sighs dramatically, pushing back some loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Right. Damn capitalism.” He lets his eyes roam over you adoringly. “Okay, how about just my place tonight?”

“Isn’t Wonwoo going to be there?”

“Don’t worry. He’s grown into the art of minding his own business.”

You grin at that. 

The ding of the elevator interrupts your banter, the doors𑁋still dented from his overly enthusiastic entrance𑁋sliding open to reveal the classic chaotic routines of the bullpen. Mingyu retracts his hand from your waist, straightening his posture in the hopes of masking away his besotted features. You flip back into your professional stance too, fixing your blazer and flicking a glance to the time on your watch.

The two of you step out onto the floor together. The frantic morning bustle of the newsroom quickly fills your senses: interns rushing by, the clattering of keyboards, a printer breaking down somewhere in the corner, and people yelling out deadlines in your ears. When you stop at your desk, you watch for a few seconds as Mingyu sidles past you to head to his own cubicle just a few steps down. 

However, just as you’re about to sit, a loud voice booms through the newsroom: Seungcheol.

“Mingyu! Y/N! Office now!” 

You freeze halfway in the seat, meeting Mingyu’s equally startled gaze across the room, his hand gripped around his rolling chair. Letting out an exhale, you set your bag down on your desk with Mingyu following behind you over to Seungcheol’s office.

The blinds of Seungcheol’s office are halfway drawn as the two of you step inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Seungcheol is sitting at his desk, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pragmatic look to his face. He doesn’t even have to glance up as he cracks a manila folder open on the desk. 

“Alright, Bonnie and Clyde,” he starts as you and Mingyu sit down. “I’m pairing you up again.”

You raise a suspicious eyebrow, shooting a side-glance toward Mingyu, who looks just as curious and baffled as you are. It hasn’t even been long since the two of you were paired up on the kryptonite trafficking and Scarface incident, where near-death was just a slip away from your fingers.

Seungcheol opens the folder, revealing a cluster of surveillance photos from what look to be press conferences, a particular figure standing out in every single one.

“Recently, the President-elect has been appearing in places he shouldn’t be,” Seungcheol states, sliding the photos over the two of you.

“The President-elect?” You repeat, staring down at the images. “As in, President-elect Yoon Jeonghan?”

“Precisely,” Seungcheol responds eagerly. “He’s been spotted here in Seoul, then Metropolis, Gotham, Beijing, nearly everywhere.”

You lean in closer to photos, feeling Mingyu beside you do the same. Sure enough, there he is𑁋President-elect Yoon Jeonghan wearing his signature dark suit, waving gracefully at crowds, shaking hands with sick children in a hospital, all with that perfect charming smile on his face. He appears undeniably poised, pristine, and politically untouchable. There’s something quite eerie about it. 

However, there are also some photos taken from security cameras in the middle of inconspicuous dark alleyways, military divisions, and unregistered facilities. All the photos were taken in different locations around the world. But what catches your eyes are the timestamps on the photos.

They’re all merely hours or even minutes apart.

“That’s not humanly possible,” You remark incredulously. “Any information on travel records?”

Seungcheol shakes his head grimly. “Nope. His press team claims he’s been prepping for his inauguration in Seoul and only travelled three times the past five months. The intelligence team is pretty divided on digging even more about this. But I know when something isn’t right, and clearly this𑁋” He motions over the photos. “𑁋isn’t just normal presidential shenanigans. I need to know if the man who is about to lead this country is actually who he says he is.”

You and Mingyu exchange another look. He’s frowning now, jaw tense. You can practically see the gears turning in your head. It’s clear he’s thinking the same thing you are. 

This isn’t just a scandal, or a simple case of political corruption. It’s a threat waiting to detonate.

“Alright,” You say, clasping your hands together. “We’ll take it.”

“Good.” Seungcheol leans back in his chair. “But keep this off the record for now. We don’t want to cause a nationwide panic. Whatever you plan to write, take it up with me first. He’s still the goddamn President-elect, so watch your backs. Both of you.” 

“Yes, sir,” Mingyu states solemnly, already gathering back the photos in the folder.

“And look, I don’t care what the hell is going on between the two of you,” Seungcheol starts, eyes flitting between the two of you. “But I do know the last time I partnered you two, we broke the damn site’s traffic record and scored a Pulizter nomination in the process. So don’t disappoint me, alright? Meeting’s over.”

The two of you start to saunter your way out of Seungcheol’s office with materials gathered under both of your arms. However, just as Mingyu is about to close the door, Seungcheol calls out to him again.

“Kim! One more thing.”

Mingyu pauses with his hand still on the doorframe, poking a head back in the office. “Yes, sir?”

Seungcheol doesn’t look up from his papers he’s scavenging through, but his voice cuts through the room like a knife. 

“Try not to die this time, yeah?” 

It comes off way too casual for Mingyu’s liking, laced with that familiar gruff Seungcheol charm that’s gotten him through years of leading the newsroom and dealing with incorrigible employees. The man basically implied that he knows in some way, somehow. Mingyu’s jaw twitches from nerves, before easing into a tight-lipped smile. 

“Noted… uh, sir.”

Seungcheol waves him off curtly. “Amazing. Now get back to work.”

And so he does. Mingyu quietly shuts the door before sheepishly meandering his way over to where you’re already perched at your desk and setting the files down. You smile when you catch him coming up to you, and the look on your pretty face is quick to dissolve any lingering nerves he has.

“So, partner.” You place a hand on your hip. “Guess we’re working together again.”

“That seems to be the case, Cronkite,” Mingyu retorts teasingly. 

You tilt your head fondly at the nickname, peering up at him curiously.

“Are you ready for this?” 

Mingyu glances down at you. He doesn’t answer, not at first𑁋just takes you in with warm eyes as if you’re the centre of the damn universe, noticing every flicker of excitement and hint of worry that paints your features. He may be Superman, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel scared sometimes. 

Especially when it comes to you𑁋someone who he doesn’t just love, but someone who he would quite literally move through heaven and hell for. Someone who makes every mission worth surviving. Someone who he chooses again and again every damn day. 

You’re standing there in front of him with your lips pressed in that determined line he knows all too well. Brave. Brilliant. Unafraid to chase the truth even if it kills you. And God, he swears he falls in love with you all over again.

“With you by my side?” Mingyu starts, lips quirked up as he steps up closer to you. “I’m ready to take on anything, my love.” 

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[majiburger]

so, i finished the devil judge. spoiler-laden thoughts about the show under the cut

never have i seen a show that made me WILDLY oscillate between enjoyment and frustration like this before. i swear my opinion changed every single minute of every single episode and that was the case with the last episode too, but before i get ahead of myself, i do want to note that the casting choices for this show were excellent and i enjoyed all the actors' performances. i think they all did a great job and i'd love to see more of whatever they're in.

as for the show itself and the writing – idk! it frustrated me! there were definitely moments where i enjoyed the twists, especially the reveal that yo han had been protecting elijah all along but there were some glaring plot holes and plot twists that felt goofy and unearned. i enjoyed the live court concept and i think the show did have a nuanced portrayal of what would happen if something like that came into effect, but sometimes it stretches credulity an insane amount and you'd have to suspend your disbelief a whole lot to accept some of the events. even if it's a fictional dystopia or whatever, i feel like it still has to have some believability, but the amount yo han and the other main characters get away with is crazy. the only thing that redeems it from being completely outrageous is that the villains are rich and powerful, and i can't find it in myself to be too mad that they get cornered and punished in brutal ways with little to no opposition. clearly the show understands the public frustration with the wealth gap — the last episode having the 99% vote guilty and the 1% vote innocent is an on-the-nose representation of that sentiment, and i really liked it, but sometimes i wish the show took itself seriously! it felt rushed in a lot of places, and the lowkey ableist resolution to elijah's character arc was annoying. re-arrange some of the existing scenes and it would feel like a more tightly-knit show but as it exists now, in its current state, the pacing was all over the place.

the silver lining of this show is that even in its wildest moments, the cast is very likeable. i liked every single character (except the villains), even if i felt like some of them were underwritten/their motivations were not believable for how much the show has told us about them. that being said, they're all charming. i don't usually like numerical ratings but i'd give the show an 8 for yo han's face alone (i'm docking two points off because they made sun-ah and minister cha kill themselves though. gorgeous evil women deserve to live forever etc etc). i liked that the show was bold enough to actually let yo han get away with blowing up a bunch of rich people, i definitely thought ga-on would successfully talk him out of it😅 but i also liked the vague implication towards the end that the world isn't necessarily "fixed" because of what yo han did, and that even if yo han started a movement, its quick hype-and-die-down probably wouldn't have a long-lasting effect, but that's not what he had hoped for anyway, as his general goal as a character was to take down the srf and he did exactly that. it was realistic, even amidst the unrealistic chaos of it all, and i thought it was a decent concession for the show to make in exchange for yo han getting his revenge 😂 when the show first began, i thought we'd have more court cases but i can see how that would get monotonous after an episode or two so maybe this is the wisest route to take for a thriller. the court room scenes were very well shot though, even though i feel like the show uses the conceit of a live court WAY too much as a writing shorthand to resolve some of its plots. but. at the end of the day, i did enjoy my watch-through and i had a good time, so i consider it time well-spent

[mattsdolll]

𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 . . ୨୧

hockeyplayer!matt x quietgirl!reader

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . their entire lives they've always had a strong disliking towards eachother, what happens when matt makes her cry? i've never wrote anything like this so feel free to critique ! this is soo cliché😭 ib: august by chase atlantic. enemies to lovers, somewhat forced proximity ??,kinda angst, smut, mention of panic attacks, no use of y/n, p in v, unprotected sex.

this is my first time writing semi-angst & smut so this is kinda basic and i lowkey hate this fic but i love the concept of it. more work coming soon since i'm finally out of my tumblr slump & will be more active, in honor of me back in my chase atlantic phase..

"how do we expect to be anything when we don't try to be anything?"

2.8k words

enjoy🤍

year eleven was tough on everyone, matt especially. he had always struggled with school but with hockey and midterms he was stressed. next year was graduation & everybody had to take school very seriously in the hopes they'd pass. he had a couple of friends aside from his brothers, most who he didn't speak to much. nick and chris were the few people that were keeping him sane during this period of his life, he hated it. hockey was his escape, it let him get his pent up frustration out in a healthy way. you and matt had never gotten along, as pathetic as it sounded you were "rivals".

your relationship with matt was agnostic, for no particular reason there was just a strong disliking towards you on his end - or so you thought. you were too busy doing better things in your life. you could never pinpoint why but he just couldn't tolerate you. your entire lives he just seemed stand-offish about you. about a year and a half ago, everything changed for the worse. you had gotten into a massive argument over something trivial, your memories of the fight were vague. ever since then you had ignored him and he returned the favor. he had taken a liking to one of your closest friend and you had an issue with it, believing she deserved better, she did. you could almost hear the anger coursing through his veins as he screamed at you that night

"you can't just fucking do that! i liked her and you..you messed up everything! i wish you would just-" the brunettes words echoed through your head, he was furious, frustrated and deeply hurt, you couldn't see that at the time. you wondered if you were wrong in trying to protect your friend. you wondered if he had good morals. you wondered if you made a mistake, did you make him hate you?

you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts, your teacher calling on you to present your assignment to the class, the eyes of your classmates staring into the back of your head as you made your way to the front of the dull room. you began your presentation, a lame low effort articulation of your view on mental health until you met his gaze. the brunettes eyes pierced through your soul, that look of pure concentration was bothering you, it was somewhat troublesome, he wanted you to mess up, he knew the eye contact would make you lose focus, you pathetically stammered over your words. you forced the rest of your speech out of your mouth, returning to your seat, he smirked to himself, his eyes following your body as you walked. you wanted to crawl into a hole and die, you hated public speaking or expressing your feelings vocally, it was something you'd struggled with as a child, he knew that.

it was a cold night in august, fall dawning upon the small town. the leaves slowly dying, sweaters being worn, pumpkin spice becoming the not so new trend. one of your close friends had offered you tickets to the game tonight, held at the school's ice rink. you were hesitant. she gave her ticket to you because she had gotten sick and didn't want to put the ticket to waste. you had no plans tonight, never mind getting ready to actually leave your bed. you took a hot shower, the scorching water streaming down your body. you blow dried your hair, straightening it and tying a low ponytail, lacing a black bow around the brunette locks. you threw on baggy jeans along with a black tank top, small silver hoop earrings and white sneakers, along with a black jacket draped over your arm. you drove to the venue with heavy eyes. you touched up your mascara and lip gloss in the mirror, the remnants of your makeup from earlier still evident on your face. you made your way into the school stadium, the cool breeze of the ice hitting your skin.

the game was somewhat boring to you, you had no idea what it meant to shoot or what dribbling was, but you tried to make the most of it. there he was, only a few meters away from you. the boy skated around the ice flawlessly, the void-like pit in your stomach felt full, your insides fluttering. you couldn't help but be impressed, you had never seen him play before, you never realized he was so good. he scored a few goals, the score was 7-5. his team was ahead, until the opposing team knocked matt out of the way, causing him to tumble over, falling on the ice. the crowd gasped, the opposing team scoring three points for their goal. matt hit his mouth against his helmet, blood leaking from his lips, he skated to the bench, cleaning up. you felt suspense building in your stomach, his appearance disheveled, hair scruffy, face sweaty, you couldn't help but think he looked..different. were you enjoying this?

apparently you were, you didn't exactly like matt, you just enjoyed watching the games, the games where he was the most important player, over and over and over..seeing him get so frustrated, it was like some kind of amusing pastime. after one of the many games you'd attended. during one of the mid-season games, his team on a winning streak. he had "finally" spotted you in the crowd while on the ice, he nearly choked on his spit, seeing you watching him play, he felt a sense of cockiness rush through him, the urge to win now unbearable. he needed to prove how good he was, but why? he scored the winning point, his team cheering and celebrating, his friends lifted him up over their heads. on their way to the locker rooms. you took in the familiar sight of his disheveled, ruined appearance, drinking in the sight. he caught you staring, however, a cocky grin spreading across the boys lips. you attempted to mask your embarrassment but it was too late, he kicked off his gear in the locker room, changing everything but that hockey jersey. the short sleeved top hung off his body perfectly, the color contrasting his eyes.

"stalking me now?" he teased, sitting next to you on the bleachers, the way he sat so confidently all of a sudden, not like his usual self, his demeanor was alluring, you had never felt this way about him until now. well maybe since last month. "i wasn't stalking you, i had nothing better to do tonight" you tried to protest, he simply chuckled. "yeah? and last week, the week before..and before.." he drawled cockily, he had seen you, every game, gawking at him. how could you not have noticed? "you don't talk much, hm? didn't get taught how to communicate growing up?" you went quiet, you hated talking, you were never allowed to growing up. you had developed this "don't talk unless spoken to" mindset and it carried on into your school career, resulting in you having little to no friends. it was a very touchy subject to you and you hated how badly it got to you.

matt was only teasing, trying to make a conversation until the tears brimming your eyes almost instantly made matts cocky grin disappear, his expression now evident with worry. you felt the familiar feeling of your throat closing up, your heart began to throb harder. you couldn't even mutter out a word, you got up and headed out in fear of breaking down in front of him, the last person on earth you'd want to look weak in front of. you settled on the grass by a small garden on the school grounds outside a now locked and empty classroom.

the second you took off matt knew he had made a mistake, he rushed after you, somehow losing you in the process. he found you eventually, sitting down with your knees to your chest, calming yourself down. and in that moment, he saw himself in you. he knew how it felt, the horror washing over you as the air deflated from your lungs, your throat tightening, he hated that feeling. he knew it all too well. he needed to provide you some sense of comfort, solace from his touch. he made his way to you and sat next to you, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. "hey..breathe, you're okay." he whispered reassuring words into your ear. you weren't having a full blown panic attack like you usually would, but this was still bad. you felt the feeling slowly ease out of your body, you felt like you could breathe again. "thats it..doing so good.." he whispered into your ear, stroking your arm. his words went straight to your core, something about the tone or the resonance of his voice in that moment did something to you, you felt your inner thighs become drenched, your heat beginning to ache.

"i'm so sorry, yeah? i didn't mean to make you cry tonight, or that night last year, i liked her, a lot. she never spoke to me or even looked at me, i just wanted her. i was right there but she was busy doing other things, she was everything to me, her smile, her teeth when she smiled, her hair..that haircut, the way it shaped her face..i..i was in love, okay? and i couldn't have her." he rambled out. the things he had described were some kind of literary illusion. this "girl" he was describing was nothing like the girl he so called wanted. this "girl" he was describing didn't resemble her at all actually. this "girl" was you.

all along, he wanted you. you never wanted him back, but you wanted him now. was it too late? did you miss your chance? did he still have feelings for you? why did he ignore you for a year? your thoughts rushed through your brain scatteredly as you tried to form a single word. he tilted your face towards his, seeing that panicked expression written on your face. he wiped the tears that stained your cheeks, trying to make it up to you. you gazed up into his eyes, noticing the different shades of blue and slight haze of grey in them. you noticed the tiny freckles on his face, so slight you could only see them under the moonlight, you noticed the way his curls fell over his forehead so perfectly as if sculpted in God's vision precisely. he was so perfect. you held eye contact for a few seconds, you wished you could, taste him, savor him. you batted your eyelashes at him, and that was all it took to drive him insane; your eyes. the specks of color in them were so beautiful.

he noticed the pleading look in your eyes, as if you were begging for him to do it. it did him in. the last bit of his conscience telling him to stop fell away, and all that was left was his urge to kiss you. he got a bit closer, his hands still resting on your face as he inched his face closer to yours. he tilted your jaw and pressed his swollen lips into yours. your eyes fluttered shut, giving into his touch. the kiss lasted for what felt like hours. he prodded his tongue against you, silently begging you to let him kiss you deeper, his hands finding their way to your jaw, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue massaging yours. you felt yourself gravitating back toward the grass, him laying you down gently. his hand cupped the back of your head before you hit the ground.

it felt like sweet relief, pain and pleasure coursing through your body. you felt like you were on fire from how desperate you were for him in that moment. he hovered over you, gently kissing you. you tugged his jersey, pulling him further into you. your nails scratched down his back, almost hard enough to draw blood, drawing a guttural moan from him. he looked down at you desperately, your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips

"i want this"

you whispered softly, finally vocalizing your wants. a new experience to you, yet it felt perfect with him. he looked down at you for reassurance. "yeah? you want this, pretty?" he cooed softly, your pussy ached. you gave a weak nod for him, giving him permission to touch you. "i want this, please." he sucked and nipped at your neck, pressing against you more, his touch gentle but eager. you writhed underneath him, the sensations throughout your nerves becoming unbearable. "matt..do you want this?" he paused briefly, staring at your face. "yeah pretty, i want this, i want you." his lips latched onto yours, trailing hot open mouthed kisses along your neck. his hips subconsciously rolled against yours rhythmically.

you felt his now hard cock pressing against your thigh, causing you to moan softly. you couldn't describe how badly you wanted him, he wanted you just as much, he was just hesitant to take you right then and there, in the middle of a garden. he wanted it to be special, but his need was overlapping his thoughts. he kissed you once more before pulling away. "need to feel you, fuck- pretty..please?" the boy begged, you nearly salivated at the sight. you gave a quick nod to which he quickly took his shirt off, hooking his fingers under the loops in your jeans, tugging them down. you quickly pulled your shirt off as well. he slowly stripped you of your clothes, leaving yourself in nothing but underwear. he groaned at the image, tugging his own pants down, his hard dick slapping against his stomach. it wasn't huge, but it was definitely big. his cock twitched in his hand as he pumped it a few times, pre-cum leaking furiously from the reddened tip.

you watched him in pleasure as he slowly approached you, lifting your hips a little. "lift your hips f'me" he mumbled, holding you in place. he pulled your panties down slowly and teasingly, you winced as the cold air hit your pussy. he rubbed his tip up and down your folds, admiring you. "such a pretty girl, hm? all f'me.." you crumbled, whimpering pathetically. a small smirk tugged on his lips as he eased into you, stretching your walls out. you groaned at the burn, it was uncomfortable but felt so good. he pulled out halfway before gently thrusting his hips into you again, letting you adjust a little. "fuck, angel youre so tight..have you never been fucked before?" he mewled, feeling you clench around him. you shaked your head weakly, pulling a desperate moan from him. he gradually picked up his pace, his cock going deeper with each thrust.

your pain faded into pleasure, small gasps leaving your swollen lips, he watched your tits bounce with each thrust, finding it incredibly endearing. he leaned his lips down to your nipple, sucking at the flesh gently. you laced your fingers through his loose locks, tugging the curls. he loved it, moaning against your breast. a string of saliva left his lips as he pulled his face up to look at you, your fucked out expression causing his cock to twitch harder. he buried his nose into your neck, speeding up more. the sound of skin slapping echoed through the halls, he panted softly. "shit, angel..'m so close..gonna cum, can i cum inside you, baby?" he whispered into your ear, how could you deny him when he begged so sweetly? you nodded, threading your fingers in his hair, the knot in your stomach beginning to unwind.

his thrusts grew sloppy, his cock twitching desperately. your walls enveloped him deeper and deeper. you gripped his shoulders, a pathetic whimper fell from his lips as his orgasm washed over him like a wave. cum spurted from his tip, painting your insides. your orgasm soon washed over you as well, both your liquids mixing at some point in the process. he slowly and carefully pulled out, looking down at you nervously. "was that okay? did i do good?" your jaw almost fell open, how could he ask that? "matt..that was fucking amazing" you mumbled softly, drawing a smile from his lips. he giggled softly, collapsing on you. he was like a whole new person, you barely recognized him. "yeah? i did good?" he giggled. you smiled sleepily. "mhm, so good."

he planted a gentle kiss to your lips, brushing a strand of messy hair out of your face. "pretty" he whispered admiringly. "can i take you home?" you nodded a little. you couldn't believe your life. you just had sex with the guy who you thought hated you for nearly two years, then again, how could you expect to be anything when you don't try to be anything?

. . .

tags !

@mattscoquette @blahbel668 @emely9274 @pearlzier @wompwomp-1

[tryingahandinholdingapen]

I'm flattered /gen

glad you like my silly little au fjbsjfh

okay. I mean I said I'd write more of this anyway, so...

let's add even more tropes into the mix actually

- The Senju clan's healing ability is ridiculously superior to the Uchiha clan's, which is actually pretty shit really. They're doing their best but they don't have nearly as much knowledge or inventions or justu relevent to healing and prevention as the Senju, meanwhile the Senju clan's ability to heal horrendous injuries+illnesses is absolutely unbelievable. Neither party is quite aware of the extent of this discrepancy tho,,,,the Uchiha are slightly more aware of it than the Senju are but. Yeah big knowledge gap

- Hashirama et al has lowkey been planning to Get Rid Of Butsuma and take over for like, ages. He's not old enough or experienced enough to take over the clan yet but he + Tobirama + others have quietly been working towards the eventuality in which Hashirama IS old enough to do so for. years

- Tobirama has leopard summons which okay yeah does make him act a teeny tiny bit like a cat sometimes. The instincts are there

okay now I need to backtrack to my original post because now that I've added these tropes in I wish to expand on the ending paragraph. the bit about the Uchiha clan at large attempting to befriend the young Blessed like he's a stray/feral cat, meanwhile Tobirama starts dropping metaphorical dead mice on their doorstep as he gradually warms up to them? that bit

okay so after that encounter that broke the stalemate, in which Tobirama was wounded and the Uchiha gave the young Blessed medical supplies to try and help, there's a few realisations. The Uchiha realise this Blessed is almost certainly a recognisable (and therefore probably important?) member of a neutral or, more likely, enemy shinobi clan. Tobirama realises, after a few similar encounters (Butsuma has a few months of beyond usual paranoia and keeps sending Tobirama on missions that are too difficult/dangerous for him really), that based on how bad the Uchiha seem to think his injuries are vs what supplies they give him....the state of the Uchiha's healing supplies is possibly a bit shit. hm

(Tobirama's also warming up to the concept of peace with the Uchiha due to these encounters. He already wanted the war to stop, because it was killing so many of their people and didn't make sense to continue when they didn't know why it STARTED and it almost got Itama killed (he survived, but now stays in the compound learning to be a healer and that's Tobirama's baby brother that nearly died!) buuuuttt now Tobirama's not only like "we should stop the war" but "we should start an era of peace", you know? Subtle but very important difference. He's willing to be more proactive now and maybe if he does nice things for the Uchiha then if/when he reveals his identity as Senju Tobirama it could help cement peace? He considers talking to Hashirama about the possibility but uhhhh then he'd have to admit he's been sneaking onto Uchiha lands sans disguise and he doesn't want to do that. Not because he doesn't love and trust his Anija, of course he does! But this is HIS thing he wants to keep it to himself,,,plus Hashirama would get so emotional about it he just KNOWS he would and he doesn't want to get sobbed all over again, thanks)

Anyway. After the Uchiha found him injured that first time and determined the Blessed was almost certainly from an enemy clan, they decided plausible deniability was the way to go, on the theory that if they pretended he wasn't an enemy or even that they hadn't noticed him, he would also pretend he wasn't from an enemy clan and therefore 'why would I spy/hurt/disadvantage the people who let me hide on their lands and give me free medical supplies? enemies? who? the Uchiha aren't my enemy don't be stupid'

This tactic is incredibly successful actually. Tobirama hadn't wanted them to know that he was from an enemy clan at all, if possible, but the moment he picked up on the fact that a) the Uchiha clan likely knew he wasn't exactly from a neutral/allied clan and b) they were pretending they didn't know in order to avoid conflict, Tobirama was very happy to play along. Thanks for solving the problem he had no idea what to do about! Plausible deniability is absolutely something he can do, he's great at that actually (fuck you Butsuma)

(Sighs of relief on the Uchiha side of things, when they realise the Blessed is happy to play along despite being discovered)

One of the ways this plausible deniability manifests is that the young Blessed is gradually demonstrating a number of preferred places to hang out/hide on their lands. The Uchiha steadfastly pretend not to be aware of this, sometimes walking by and COINCIDENTALLY not seeing the kid scrambling up the tree to his favourite perch for example, but by some happenstance a few of their patrol routes have altered ever so slightly so that the kid's preferred places are more strongly protected than they had been previously. Wow what a weird coincidence am I right

Anyway after that first encounter that broke the stalemate, subsequent encounters with the Blessed now routinely include giving the kid (11-14?? idk man I'm still undecided on ages) a shirt. Because for some reason whenever he's injured he's also absent proper clothing. They really aren't sure why this is the case? He wears proper clothing when he's not injured! Injuries and lost clothing do not normallt have such a strong corrlation as they seemingly do for this kid so like, what the hell is hapoening there?? But they're not gonna leave the kid to freeze when a shirt is one thing they have plenty of sooo shirt and medical supplies it is

The Uchiha have no way of knowing this, but the reason Tobirama keeps ending up needing a shirt whenever he's injured is because when Tobirama plans in advance to go hang out on Uchiha lands, he can ensure he's dressed appropriately with outer layers etc that don't have the Senju mon on. But if he hasn't planned it in advance, and is just trying to hide because he's injured and doesn't want to go home (partly conscious planning to avoid Butsuma and partially unconscious cat instincts to go hide somewhere nobody (that he really knows personally) can find him) then that usually means that his armour and outer layers etc all had the Senju mon on, since that's somewhat required for missions, and therefore he has to discard them before he can safely go on Uchiha lands. Thus any time he's injured on Uchiha lands he's also usually more or less just in his underclothing which...okay, honestly? He rarely cares at the time because yk injuries but looking back on it thinking about the sheer number of random Uchiha who have seen him in his under things is pretty embarrassing. Mm. Let's not dwell on that

Tobirama isn't so proud as to refuse the clothing they offer, because that would be stupid. It's fucking cold without his outer layers and yeah yeah he could stay warm using chakra circulation but that would use energy and chakra that he really ought to be dedicating to healing those injuries. So a shirt is better

However! He can't really keep the shirts? The younger and cockier/stupider Uchiha keep giving him shirts with the uchiwa fan on, which obviously Tobirama can't risk being spotted with back home because it would be impossible to explain, and depending on who found him with it he probably wouldn't even get a chance to try and explain himself. If it's one of the older/more experienced Uchiha who offer a shirt then he usually doesn't have to worry about them giving him something with the uchiwa emblazoned on it, but then it's also usually big enough on him that it's not reeeeally worth keeping since he can't exactly wear it regularly

So instead, he starts using the gifted shirts to wrap up medical supplies from the Senju healing halls (stuff that's better than what the Uchiha have been able to gift to Tobirama, but he's careful to ensure it's neither so good as to be obviously Senju nor marked in any identifying way) and occasionally also food, during times he has reason to believe the Uchiha clan (who do not have mokuton on their side) may be struggling a bit with that e.g. in the middle of a particularly harsh winter. So yeah he uses the gifted shirts to make little parcels of food + supplies

And then he starts sometimes leaving these little return parcels near any of the hangout/hiding places that he knows the Uchiha know of ('plausible deniability' does not mean 'so subtle Tobirama can't pick up on it' and it was never intended to be, and all parties know it). Only on times he's sure he hasn't been spotted though. Kami forbid he doesn't want to risk being spotted leaving them gifts or, even worse, having to explain himself. Let him have his own plausible deniability here, please, he's just returning the favour of the shirt+medical supplies gifts

Welcome to the 'Tobirama leaving the Uchiha clan gifts like a cat depositing dead mice on their doorstep' era

The Uchiha clan did NOT expect their gifts to be reciprocated but they're very excited about it! I mean the Uchiha patrol that were (un)lucky enough to find the gift were also somewhat embarrassed because now they have to admit the full goings-on with the Blessed to their higher-ups and the clan at large (the various shinobi routinely on patrol may not have yet confessed to smuggling the kid shirts and medical supplies. maybe. they also maybe weren't supposed to have some of those supplies and got in a fair amount of trouble for stealing from the limited healing halls surplus. oops) which was almost physically painful tbh,,,the disappointed stares for stealing from the healing halls,,,,but the return gifts the Blessed left pretty much redeemed them so like. It's fine it's all good. And hey, they even got the shirts back?

(Seriously what is going ON with that kid and his clothing. He clearly has clothes, so why isn't he always wearing them? Or if he doesn't have ENOUGH clothes to always wear them, or something [admittedly Tobirama does have a fairly limited number of outdoor clothing absent his clan mon so if any Uchiha was paying enough attention they may notice he was cycling through like, three shirts and two pairs of pants or something ridiculous like that], then why doesn't he keep the clothing they offer him?? What??)

Anyway they're very grateful for the medical supplies, and the food in mid-winter is a fucking BOON let them tell you that. Woo some actual fruit+veg instead of just fucking rice for the last stretch of winter! Some of their healers are sparing as much time as they can to try and reverse engineer the medication the kid left them, but it's really difficult and so far they haven't really had any success. The young Blessed helpfully used the same (knots? colour?) code as the medical supplies they left him used, for painkillers vs sedatives vs antibiotics and stuff, which is excellent

They try leaving him a thank you note near one of his hiding places once, but decide NOT to do that again because it fucking spooked the kid. He had been routinely hanging around about a third of the way between their outermost patrols and their compound, but after the Uchiha found disturbed ground by the note (which he notably did not take with him) the young Blessed a) vanished off the face of the fucking planet for like, two months and b) returned to lurking around the very very edges of their lands instead of coming further in

So outright straightforward communication is a bust, they guess.

Damn.

Somewhere in the distance Tobirama is quietly panicking because he can rationalise leaving them gifts as simply returning a favour/debt but writing to a clan his own are still enemies with? That's a bit too close to treason for him to deal with calmly

(Yes this is irrational when he is involved in actively planning much worse treason against their current shitstain of a clan head, but emotions are rarely rational, to Tobirama's eternal frustration)

So the Uchiha clan abandon direct communication as an avenue to winning this Blessed over, but they refuse to fall into ANOTHER stalemate with the quiet exchange of gifts and plausible deniability, they want to keep making some sort of progress towards winning the kid over

There's a lot of discussions back in the compound about this, throwing around various ideas. I think it should be someone from the main family (your choice who) who eventually suggests that making some of the young Blessed's hangout spots more hospitable may be a good move. After all, he's spent a fairly large amount of time on Uchiha lands, but considering he never comes inside the compound or outposts...he can't exactly be all that comfortable

(this is true he isn't, he just deems the discomfort worth it)

This is deemed a high risk, high reward idea. It might work really well! It may also just spook the kid again, probably badly enough to scare him off for good. They'll try it, but they'll only target one (1) of the kid's chosen places, in the hopes that even if he elects to forever abandon it once they actually acknowledge they know where it is and have even meddled with it, he might still use the other places. Also, whoever suggested the idea REALLY wants to help with making a cozy place for the Blessed, or tag along to see his reaction to it, or SOMETHING, but alas is strongly outvoted on the basis that altering one of the Blessed' safe spaces AND introducing a new Uchiha shinobi who doesn't routinely patrol and from the kid's perspective would have no reason to be there,,,could only end badly

There's a lot of whining about this, but they stand firm. No tagalongs. Yes even if it was your brilliant idea in the first place. Can't risk scaring him off. Eventually Tajima backs them up on this and the whining stops. Good

Time to go go spruce up a ridiculous hiding place for a young enemy Blessed shinobi

(how have their lives come to this)

let's combine some tropes

- red eyes are blessed (and therefore Tobirama has been hiding his face (and possibly generally his appearance via seal) bc they're not sure what Uchiha do with red-eyed people)

- Tobirama is a v strong sensor

- He finds Uchiha chakra in general and Madara's chakra in particular to be v pleasant

- He sometimes hides at the edge of Uchiha land borders when he's having a bad day, or just when he feels like it, in order to better immerse himself in chakra he finds comforting

- (and also Butsuma Sucks. he's abusive to his kids, esp Tobirama bc woe red eyes akin to sharingan and Butsuma's never been the most rational about his hatred. on a related note he's a passable clan head but he'd be a lot better if he didn't let said hatred guide his actions more than his reason)

...I don't think this post will get too long but I say that every time and then it does so maybe I should just preemptively stick a read more here??

basically au in which, from a p young age, Tobirama sneaks off to chakra bathe when he's sad or stressed. the Uchiha clan haven't actually found any red-eyed people in a while so the Senju aren't sure what they do with them but rumours still abound and all the rumours Tobirama have heard have generally been... well they've been bad. very bad. but they've also all had a common theme of 'the red-eyed person is not immediately killed on the spot', which is better than Tobirama could hope for from Uchiha as the Senju surety heir. so anytime he's hiding/skulking around the edges of Uchiha land, he makes sure that, unlike usual, his true appearance+eyes are on display as well as ensuring he doesn't have the Senju mon on him anywhere

he absolutely does not want to get caught by the Uchiha but also it's only sensible to take precautions so that if the worst case scenario happens and he IS caught trespassing, he should at least have a bit more time to try and escape, bare minimum, right?

so that's Tobirama's side of things

the Uchiha side of things is more like

okay they haven't found a Blessed in some time now and it's not like there's a strict manual what you should do if you find one. it's more like "these people are important, don't hurt them if at all possible, help and protect them if at all possible, bringing them into the clan and teaching them abt all things Uchiha including our religion would be a very good thing". so there's like some guidelines but it's fairly vague

this means the patrol predominantly made up of fairly new shinobi has absolutely no idea what to do when a while after sun-down they come across a Blessed child fast asleep, but slowly blinking awake, in the branches of a tree near the edge of their lands. like. hello?? small child?? why are you here how are you here do you want some soup

they're only standing around in confused and slightly awed shock for like, 3 minutes MAX but unfortunately that's long enough for the child to wake up properly, take one look at the patrol and then fucking bolt off Uchiha lands

cue surprised and self-recriminating cursing from the Uchiha shinobi. they can't just abandon their patrol route and they're somewhat wary of a potential trap for (relatively) newbie shinobi, so they don't all go after the child. but they do send their fastest after the kid because cmon that's a tiny Blessed!!

no luck, they return empty handed

apparently the Blessed child is unreasonably fast and tricky

damn

what now?

baby Tobirama returns home absolutely furious with himself. he can't believe he fell asleep!!! of all things! yeah he was exhausted and yeah he was snuggled up in warm comforting chakra but to fall asleep in enemy territory! he's so mad at himself. it was stupid and it was reckless and it was incredibly selfish of him to risk such a thing when his family, his clan, need him and- (continues telling himself off for like, 3 hours, until his brothers eventually manage to distract him from his horrible mood)

he doesn't return to Uchiha lands for ages after that. but he does, eventually, return

he isn't spotted every time he sneaks onto Uchiha lands, far from it, maybe one time in twenty or less, but it definitely happens enough times that they must know there's a little red-eyed child who keeps skulking around their territory and then bolting whenever he's spotted. oops. regardless he's very stressed and very sad because one of his little brothers is now gone (I kind of want this to be an au where his brother lives but is now stuck in an arranged marriage/learning to be a diplomat in the capital or smth, but regardless of how Kawamara is gone now and baby Tobirama is very sad abt it) and despite how many times they've spotted him, none of the Uchiha have actually managed to catch him yet, so he deems it worth the risk. (he maybe is not thinking incredibly rationally rn and just willfully disregarding anything against what he wants to do. give him a break his life sucks rn let him have this one thing)

meanwhile the Uchiha are like. where is this tiny Blessed child coming from/going to and why does he keep running away from us? like okay we know there's some horrendous rumours abt what we do with Blessed and we can't correct those rumours bc doing so risks others using Blessed against us but like....if that was the reason this kid was running from us then surely either he'd be trying to hide his features or he'd stop sneaking onto our land?

.....maybe he's not worried abt us noticing there's a Blessed child on our lands. he doesn't seem TOO bothered by us getting glimpses of him in the relative distance after all. so...he doesn't want us to see him close up? why?

..maybe he's like, really obviously from a neutral/enemy clan or something when you get a better look at him? hmmm

maybe he'll let us talk to him/catch him eventually if we keep trying. I mean it doesn't seem like he plans to stop sneaking onto our lands and WE'RE certainly not going to stop so surely its only a matter of time before he realises that if we wanted to actually hurt him we absolutely could have been throwing jutsu or weapons at him from this distance or senbons laced with sedatives or-

(should we do that instead actually? hit the kid with a sedative, deal with the rest later?

no, then we might permanently fuck over any chance of him ever trusting us and that would make helping/protecting/integrating him SO much harder

urgh. you're right I guess. okay)

anyway. maybe the little Blessed kid will relax eventually

(Tobirama does not relax eventually)

they've fallen into a frustrating stalemate in which Tobirama will fairly frequently lurk around Uchiha lands and occasionally an Uchiha will spot him and halfheartedly attempt to catch him, only to fail because Tobirama is unreasonably fast (....part of me wants to start spouting my mokuton secondary agenda again here to explain his Speed) and also they're trying not to hurt him in any way which makes it a lot harder

Tobirama has technically relaxed somewhat in that he's now significantly less worried about the prospect of the Uchiha hurting or catching him (as long as he's obviously red-eyed and absent any Senju mon, at least, all bets are off on missions/battlefields) and has as a result started to a) gradually creep further into Uchiha lands each time bc hey if the Uchiha aren't too much of a threat then it's better to be within the patrols who would stop any bandits or rogue shinobi right? and b) has started wandering off to Uchiha lands whenever he feels like it instead of just when he's near his breaking point. like now whenever he has a free moment he's like 'hmmmm do I want to spend time fucking about with research or with Touka/brothers or do I want to go chakra bathe' and they're all weighed up near equally in his mind

(assuming that said free moment would also give him the time/cover/distraction needed for him to reach Uchiha lands and back without Butsuma noticing, ofc. he isn't stupid nor does he have a death wish. That Man assuming he'd gone traitor would be.............bad.)

so I mean the Uchiha were sort of right in assuming he'd relax once he realised they weren't incredibly intent on hurting/catching him. they were just wrong in hoping he'd relax ENOUGH to let them catch/talk to him

they're very disappointed. however they're also cautiously pleased that the Blessed child has not stopped coming back over and over again, and also that he is gradually coming further into their lands and two months ago when some (significantly less welcome) trespasser turned up and tried to attack the kid he even ran to an Uchiha patrol for help! Admittedly he didn't say anything, or stick around after, but hey he at least trusts them a tiny bit to go to them for help against an enemy, right? Progress! It might take a billion years at this rate but they WILL win over the Blessed kid eventually!

at this point it's been like, at least two years since Tobirama was first spotted. probably significantly more. the stalemate truly is getting a bit ridiculous but neither party is willing to break it for fear it would end badly (and probably specifically end badly for Tobirama/little Blessed child, realistically. given he's a small child and they're an entire clan whose land he is trespassing on, there's v few ways they could break the stalemate which wouldn't risk - at best - the kid simply never returning again or at worst the the kid/Tobirama dying or living but hating+distrusting the Uchiha forever or Tobirama getting kidnapped and suffering [unspecified bad fate bc Tobirama doesnt know which rumours may be accurate but he hates them all])

eventually, fucking years later (I'm imagining Tobirama somewhere between 11 and 16 but truly can't pin it down further it depends if/what plot I include later in this theoretical fic) the stalemate does get broken, but not exactly by choice

Tobirama was on a mission and fairly badly injured. not enough that he's at risk of dying, unless he does something truly incredibly stupid + fucks up his own condition further, but he's in a lot of pain, his adrenaline is sky high, and he generally had a shitty time on the mission. he completed it successfully- barely - but it sucked and he's pretty miserable at the moment. he knows what he SHOULD do is go home and report to the healing hall to be fixed up and then go recount the mission (and his many failures/perceived failures on said mission) to Butsuma but.

but.

he doesn't want to do that

to put it mildly

anyway, the Uchiha is significantly closer than his own clan due to the direction the mission led him in, and he's exhausted and hurt, and his disguise is compromised..

(if it's something physical like a mask/contacts/dyed hair/etc then he lost it on mission or it got washed out due to how So Many Things Happened. if it's something chakra based like a jutsu or seal then he's too low on chakra and too hurt/distracted to maintain it)

...so trying to get all the way past the Uchiha, in his Senju armour but clearly a red-eyed child, when he's too exhausted and injured to guarantee he could succeed in doing so, would be a really bad idea, right? right. like they'd probably see him at best and then they'd know there was a red-eyed Senju kid and far more realistically they'd successfully catch or kill him in this state

so obviously it makes more sense for him to discard everything that marks him as a Senju, whilst he's still conscious+has the chakra to seal it away surreptitiously, and then go nap on Uchiha lands until he's recovered enough to make it home safely

yeah, that's a good idea. he'll do that

(tbf this is a fairly decent tactic but he's also trying to convince himself because when the options are 'soak up the most wonderful chakra he's ever felt and have a nap safely on territory he knows he probably won't be hurt on' or 'go home and get horribly mistreated by Butsuma for doing so badly on a mission before he even gets a chance to rest' he knows which one he wants to pick)

so Tobirama discards his armour and most of his equipment (urgh why is the Senju mon on EVERYTHING he complains to himself) and seals it away, making sure said seal also isn't at all obvious. all the moving he has to do to get this done really sucks because ow. injuries. most of them aren't that bad, a lot of surface wounds, and none of them are fatal, but OW moving so much aggravates almost all of them

this more or less just leaves him in pants, an undershirt, shoes and a kunai pouch. it's....Not A Lot and the paranoia and vulnerability is prickling at him even once he's within Uchiha patrols on their lands and he keeps trying to assure himself he's safe there but it's not working. he's hurt and exhausted and he barely has any chakra left and now he's not even wearing his armour or most of his weapons and he doesn't USUALLY wear his armour on Uchiha lands but he's also usually wearing more and NOT INJURED and more heavily armed and-

to appease his panic so he can actually rest like he'd intended to, instead of just kind of hanging around or scaling some branches/outcropping, he instead finds a tree that has a small burrow at the roots, just big enough for him to fit and evidently not currently in use by whatever animal made it, and curls up in there. he's careful of course not to let any open wounds meet the dirt, that's just asking for infection - thankfully his pants are long and his undershirt has long sleeves, so he just has to curl his hands up in his sleeves and ensure his head is cushioned on the lightweight cloak that thankfully had no clan mon on it - but he feels a lot safer when he's hidden away in an enclosed space

he reaches out to the warm-spice-passion chakra signatures within the Uchiha compound, shifts a bit for the comfiest position he can find in his little hiding place, and finally feels able to relax for the first time since that horrible mission started

there. safe

he falls asleep

meanwhile a Uchiha patrol has found spots of blood and a lot of scuffed up footsteps along their border, plus one spot that's just, a mess of leaf litter and kicked up moss (Tobirama tripped over a tree root when trying to take his chest plate off, immediately felt irrationally angry about it, and kicked at the stupid root to get it back. he then felt stupid himself and pretended it didn't happen. the rest of the mess is bc he was p carelessly dumping his shit on the floor before sealing it away) and they're concerned about it

is this from a fight?? no signs of jutsu tho, or discarded weaponry....hm. at the very least, someone was injured and (given that as far as this patrol knows, all their clan members are accounted for or shouldn't have returned from their missions yet) probably also trespassing

better go investigate

so they do and they find....that's a Blessed. that's the same Blessed that keeps wandering onto their lands, and he's asleep in a fucking hole and bleeding everywhere. oh shit. also where the hell is his shirt?? that is not a proper over-shirt that is underclothing what-

ah fuck what do they do

ah fuck

they know they're supposed to help this Blessed but they also know that a) he's scared of them for some reason. possibly bc he may technically be an enemy to their clan? they have no proof but its a persistent theory over the years and b) he's definitely a shinobi there's no way he could have outran that trespasser without training nor ended up in some of the ridiculous places he's been (hello?? tiny Blessed?? why are you 30 feet up a tree) without the ability to tree-walk

so like. they want to just take him back to their healing halls or something, but if they try that they'll probably just scare the shit out of him and he'd likely hurt them - and more crucially - himself in trying to get away

so they probably shouldn't do that. but they also can't just leave him injured in a hole. he's a Blessed! they can't leave him like this!

so

what do they do??

they have a quiet argument/discussion and ultimately determine that some of them will stay guarding the injured Blessed and some(one) will run back to the compound to firstly explain what's happened + that someone else needs to take over their patrol route and secondly gather what medical supplies they can spare and bring those back here

when the assigned shinobi returns with the supplies they end up accidentally waking the Blessed, which unfortunately immediately confirms their worries because he freaks the fuck out. he seems to want to run but swiftly determines he couldn't get out of the fucking hole + past them without them letting him, and instead twists with a pained hiss, bringing his hands up to hide his face and build as much as possible

which is interesting. he doesn't go to hide his hair, nor specifically to hide the red eyes that mark him as Blessed, no he goes to hide other potential identifiers....which kind of suggests he is indeed from an enemy clan. hm. damn. doesn't make him any less a Blessed but oh boy that may complicate things later on

(hc for the purposes of this fic that as a kid/early teen Tobirama looked fairly generically (mainline) Senju, apart from his colouring, and it wasn't until mid teens when he got a massive growth spurt and his face started changing more that he began to look more like his (outclan) mother and taller+slimmer+narrower than the average Senju, with pointer facial features, and just generally look a lot less like Butsuma+less obviously Senju)

the Uchiha silently and unanimously agree that this would go better if he DIDN'T feel like the wounded cornered animal he currently is, so they get the fuck out of the way. they don't go too far away, still within view, but they make sure the Blessed has a clear run out of the hole and off/away, if he wants. they also ensure that the medical supplies are very visible within that cleared space

a minute or so later they're rewarded when the Blessed stops cowering, and shoots past them faster than they would have believed possible. he takes the medical supplies on his dash past though - victory! woo!

they have a little discussion whilst they wait for him to get whatever he feels is a safe distance away, and decide that yeah that behaviour definitely indicates he thinks some sort of familial resemblance or something is a) noticable and b) gives him reason to fear the Uchiha's discovery of such. so. probably from an enemy clan

but...he's Blessed, and he hasn't tried to hurt any of them or actually get far enough into their territory to spy, or anything like that at all as far as they've noticed, so...?

plausible deniability, they decide. plausible deniability is going to be the name of the game, here

they'll just pretend not to notice he's present/a potential threat and hopefully he'll pretend right back

(also, interestingly, when they send someone to try and follow after the Blessed from a distance, they find that he hasn't bolted away from Uchiha lands as he has every time previously he was spotted. as they expected him to do now, when he's probably feeling cornered and threatened as well as being injured. no, instead he's stayed well within the area the Uchiha patrol (if anything he's actually gone further within Uchiha territory which, what?) and has found another substandard hiding place in which he's using the offered medical supplies to clean and tend to what injuries he can, and then he actually goes to sleep right there. he leaves when he wakes up a few hours later, and they don't try to stop him - REALLY not the time - but. hm. interesting)

anyway that whole encounter pretty thoroughly breaks the stalemate

after that, the Uchiha clan (specifically their patrols) and Tobirama somehow develop a whole new dynamic which honestly is almost identical to the Uchiha attempting to gradually befriend and lure a feral cat into their home, meanwhile Tobirama gradually starts leaving metaphorical dead mice on their doorstep

it's...yeah, it's really weird, actually, but. it's working?? so??

[osakiharu]

AND I DON’T KNOW IF I’LL EVER SEE YOU AGAIN !!

— saying goodbye to those certain people at school/college that you’ll probably never see again </3 (yes i wrote this because i finished college and this is how i felt about leaving some people and i’m sensitive)

content : gender neutral reader, i dont think this is angst so i have no idea what it is, its : :((, thats the genre y'all, me using a couple personal experiences to add in some accuracy

characters : mikey, kazutora, senju

notes : hey guys !! i finally finished my exams and college meaning i’m now on summer break and i finally have time to write ! thank you so much for sticking with me throughout this academic year esp since i was struggling a lot </3 i luv all of y’all so so so much and i hope y’all enjoy this EVEN THOUGH IM LOWKEY RUSTY ASF RN JUST TRUST THE PROCESS Y’ALL MY WRITING MAGIC WILL COME BACK SOON </3

˗ˏˋ MIKEY

- mikey is thee iconic class crush that everyone has (unless you’re not into mikey then that’s too bad you gotta change the character i’m sorry 😔)

- the type of person you’re friends with and is in all your classes, but you get a little rush of excitement when you see them

- the type of person you talk to like you’ve known them for years face to face, but wouldn’t dare ask to meet up with you and you can’t message them for shit because you think too much about your responses

- the type of person who somehow makes your ears burn but you can’t put your finger on why or how they do that

- you and mikey were always class friends - even teachers knew you guys as class friends and would hate when you sat with each other, knowing very well no work would get done

- he would always find a way to talk to you when you walked past him, to make a joke to you, possibly bully you a little (all with a kind heart and no malice of course) - and you always found a way to do it back which he loved <3

- you cherished him as a friend for some reason - out of all your class friends (not including closer friends that is) he felt special to you, and you could never and will never know why

- and so when the end of your time at school/college was getting closer you started to cherish your little interactions with him and got more and more excited to see him everyday :( - the way you guys interacted never changed, you just held it closer to you and appreciated it more

- on your last day you didn’t see him until the end of the day - he probably didn’t bother coming in early since it was the last day and he’s lazy 😒

- he approached you quickly with a little spring in his step, smiling widely at you like he always did (he was always happy to see you, you just never really realised) — you were very much prepared for a usual interaction; a little small talk, a clever joke of his, a laugh, and departure

- oh. a hug 🎉 — you literally could’ve cried. and don’t say no. yes you could’ve okay.

- “don’t get soppy on me now, y/n, hm? it’s not the end of the world, is it?” — TO YOU ☹️

- even though you wished he did, he didn’t spend any extra time with you, simply walking away with a goodbye and back to his friends — however he did message you when he got home <3

hey i just wanted to say i enjoyed being friends this year :)

in case i never see you again remember me by this <3

i’ll miss you, make sure you look after yourself !

- it was a video of a cat eating dorayaki and purring ?? makes sense 🫶 - although you were more surprised at the concept of a cat actually eating something like that

- though you appreciated and loved his messages, and responded with the same amount of appreciation, you kinda wish he hadn’t messaged you with his own little goodbye — although it wasn’t like losing a lifelong best friend it still left a little hole in the pit of your stomach, knowing you’d miss him, knowing you’d still talk about him with your friends sometimes

- probably wondering if he actually liked you as much as you liked him, wondering if you were simply just a person in his class or more of a friend ?

- you hope one day he’ll ask you to meet up and your friendship can be strengthened in the future but its unlikely to happen :/ - mainly because you’re probably not about to make the first move YEAH

˗ˏˋ KAZUTORA

- in your final year of school/college you ended up being together for a class - you could say he was kinda like your study buddy in the end 🤷‍♀️

-one day he saw you in the library and he asked if you could help him study for the upcoming test since he was struggling with the topic and he wanted to do well this time — lets be real, we all know kazutora would not take classes seriously 😭

- eventually it became a common thing for the both of you to do; meet in the library and go over the things he wanted to do (and it was convenient for you because it meant you could also simultaneously go over the difficult things too 🫶)

- you guys had a spot mikey called the ‘secret spot’ because it was hidden at the back behind a couple bookshelves — despite always being late to classes he was usually on time to your meet-ups

- he always greeted you by saying “hey, teach!” with only a pen and a scrap piece of paper

- as much as you liked seeing kazutora and becoming friends with him, studying with him was very hard sometimes — you could tell he was trying hard but he would kinda just stare and nod his head rather than listen because he would zone out

- once you guys finished studying, he’d simply ask you when you were able to meet next and would say his goodbye’s and thank you’s — sometimes you wanted to ask if he felt like meeting up outside of college or at least studying at your house since you guys got on so well, but you never did

- and he would make out of pocket jokes (they made you giggle but he doesn’t have to know that) — “is there anythin’ else i can do to get an A, professor? 🥺” boy 🤨

- you guys never ate lunch together or spoke to each other outside of lessons - it was almost like as soon as you guys left the classroom or library you didn’t know each other :(

- you had his socials and sometimes you’d receive messages at 12am about a theory he couldn’t understand 😭 — they always made you smile though and sometimes you guys even had little convos (mostly small talk though ugh)

- once you guys face timed 😟 — he thought you looked so pretty under the light of your desk lap and it made him kinda nervy so he was quieter than usual </3

- when exam season came around y’all were stressing over exams together like. the poor boy was SCARED — however, before each exam he would always come up to you when you were with your friends to ask how you were <3

- “i don’t know why you’re stressed, you’re the teacher here, sweets.”

- although you were excited for all the exams and college/school to end, you were also kinda dreading it — you knew the fact that you and kazutora wouldn’t have another study session again left a little ache in your chest

- when the final day arrived you thought he’d neglected to show up since you hadn’t seen him all day :((

- when the exam finished, however, he showed up out of nowhere asking how it went :0 - you guys had a long talk about the exam and how you guys hated whichever questions

- “well, i gotta get going now, my friend is giving me a ride home and i don’t wanna make him wait too much, i’m really sorry!” oh ☹️

- there it was. the feeling that came over you told you you’d probably never see him again, possibly never speak to him again except for some small talk at 11pm when he saw a funny post and decided to send it to you. the knowledge that you were losing a friend that you’d cherished your limited time with over the stressful year </3

- “yeah, it’s fine, don’t worry about it!” idiot.

- “i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

- you just nodded, despite there no longer being a tomorrow :(

- BOOOOOOOO

˗ˏˋ SENJU

- she was your friend in all of your classes <3

- literally since the first day of school/college she decided that you guys were gonna be friends

- every time you come into a lesson she’s always sat in the seat next to yours, and if she’s late she always looks for you with a bright smile on her face — even if other people changed seats in the class, you guys always stayed in the exact same seats next to each other

- “do you wanna do it together?” — y’all always worked on projects or class work together, especially presentations since senju said it just turned out better if you guys did it together

- y’all would also always panic together over presenting posters or presentations to the class and then talk about how good you did afterwards

- you guys always laughed together in classes and giggled at dumb jokes </3

- she would always make you walk with her to exams too — it’s not like she was ever panicking or worried, she just wanted to walk with you into the exam and talk about it after

- and once she bought you candy for your birthday even though you don’t remember telling her your birthday 😭 - “i got you these, i don’t know if you like them but you can try them!” me personally i’d cry

- also !! you guys would also talk outside of classes yay !! — on messages that is

- often she would message you about work, whether that was asking when homework was due in etc etc — but you guys would also message each other if you found out any gossip about people in your classes 😭😭😭

senju : babe, y’know that girl we were talking about the other day?? i found her boyfriend on tinder 😟

you : there’s no way… they’ve literally been dating for almost a year, his account should be deleted by now ?!

senju : wait what ?! how did you find out it’s been that long ☠️

you : oh i looked on her instagram yesterday lmao

- but 😁

- you guys just… didn’t talk to each other outside of class in person ??

- as soon as the class was over y’all didn’t really talk to each other, you never ate lunch together, you never studied together etc — you guys also never made plans or spoke to each other over summer breaks ?

- like y’all basically didn’t speak to each other for three months but when you came back after it was like no time had passed

- when the day of your final exam came around you guys walked to the room as usual, talking about what you did or didn’t want to come up

- before she went into the room she hugged you. you guys never hug. — “you’ll be fine, babe, you got this.” sobbing.

- when you came out of the exam she was gone as usual — it was rare for you guys to wait for each other at the end of lessons or exams anyways

- but that time you felt a little wave of sadness wash over you, perhaps a little ache in your chest as you realised that was probably the last time you’d ever walk down a corridor with her, to stress over something together, hear her little pep talks before doing exams, to do anything with her

- you took her hug as a goodbye </3 (for a while it seemed to leave a little hollow feeling in your chest when you thought of her) though it didn’t feel complete without hearing her say it

- sobbing tbh

reblogs appreciated <3

[amorevolousfaith]

Mando Fic Recs

Basically a collection of Din Djarin Smut listed under slightly specific categories that I've probably read more than twice.

SO MINORS BEGONE

Blogs - authors I follow and frequently read from

@the-scandalorian - Their writing so raw and in depth to me and I honestly could not recommend a better writer than this one right here. I’ve list lots of their fics below but make sure to check out their blog masterlist and follow them.

@mandos-sluts - does a lot of fics that involves exhibitionism and more than one person. Which personally I always struggle with so this writer is like a god in my eyes. 

@absurdthirst - Pollen Fic ROYALTY right here guys, love all their fics and would recommend ANYTHING on their masterlist. Their little day to day rants and blurbs are great too.

@man-slut-mando - Man is out here doing god’s work, and if that god happened to be named Sin that’s fine with me. This man’s voice is top tier work it’s self the fact he can modulate it makes it even better. Can not and will not recommed a better blog for audio works.

Pollen/ Drugged Fics which can also double as The Breeding kink Fics - Because those ALWAYS come out good.

Chemical Feelings by @absurdthirst - I really like this fic, if your new to the concept of pollen fics I recommend this one first, because it gives you an idea of whats going on before you get into the heavier stuff. All in all a great starter fic for the category. 

Dosed by @absurdthirst - First of all I’d like to point out this is one of my Favorite authors. Second, The plot line of how this all came to be was just too funny to pass up. Because who wouldn’t read how Mando got drugged at a Gas station and Shan’s lowkey gremlin behavior.

hunting on a foreign planet by @mandalorianfantasy - like the fic before the plot line of how this came to be is just too funny to pass up, only you just don’t know it until you read it. The reader is a fucking idiot but hey we love her effort. The smut was just as entertaining because Mando is just like what the fuck is happening but fuck it. And I’m living for it.

Fever In my eyes by @221bshrlocked - another good pollen fic then one a little more serious than the last two, once again breeding kink! There’s quite a bit of Mando’a in this one which I can appreciate, and I love how reluctant Mando starts off as before slowly its being chipped away. The header is to die for too.

Unfettered by @the-scandalorian - There are two version of the this fic, this one tell what happens if the chains hold. That’s all your gonna get because honestly it’s just so good I don’t wanna ruin it. But I will tell you the switch between Mando and who ever the hell that other guy was is so amazing, like fuck I wish I could write like that.

Unrestrained by @the-scandalorian - this is the other part to the two version fic, telling about what happens if the chains DON’T hold. Like I said before I don’t want to ruin it. BUT the blood rushing chase scene is so fucking amazing, a master piece really.

Antigen by @djarinsbeskar - oof when I tell you guys this fic is feral I’m telling you its FERAL. Like I’m talking raw animalistic instincts and this fic is probably one of the best pollen fics out there. Like breeding kink on POINT, and let me tell you as someone who consumed just about every breeding fic she can get her hands on defiantly one of the best. This fic alone is in my top three.

Periods - Because I’ve been there done that, and highly recommend, If not then just read these.

Kinktober Day: 28 by @mandosbinkie - I really loved the progression of mando slowly figuring out the little ins and outs of a womans cycle. Like This is a thing now? to I could go along with this! I also loved that snip of aggressiveness at the end because fuck ain’t that a mood.

Period Request by @mandosbinkie - loved how this one was wrote that Mando being the caring man he is ACTUALLY did his research, plus the side commentary was golden. But then we got along to fact where he just like FORGOT until it came time to put it use. But for some reason or another I just really like what he says at the end, I don’t know I just like it.

Threesome or More - because sometimes you need a little more spice to that spicy life.

Troublemaker by @housekenobi - Because Din is a tired dad just trying to sleep but he also deserves to get laid. Not to mention Boba out here being a fucking fiend like we don’t already know the man doesn’t possess a single ounce of shame in his body.

Open Hatch by @mandos-sluts by far one of my most favorite pieces simply because of the dynamic. Mando comes off a little dick-ish but hey I’m not complaining. The degradation is out of this world guys like, I’m pretty sure I learned a new way to write rough smut from this fic alone.

Boba and Din by @saradika - one of the authors I follow. This was requested and doesn’t even have a title but its my favorite threesome fic so I don’t care. SO let me tell you, this was the first threesome fic I read for this fandom and I have not read one that can top it. I love how it starts off and love the cute little snippy prompt, but fuck let me tell you when Din got thrown into the mix I was hooked. Like YES I want them to flirt with each other, YES I want them to spur each other on, BUT WHY isn’t there a part 2. I really need a part 2 guys.

Din, Luke, and Reader By @bsxcrxts​ - Not really a fic more like a headcannon in a non headcannon fashion. But look we ALLLL look for that Mando-Jedi parallel and lets face it the whole concept is hot. A Mando who doesn’t know how to stop giving and a Jedi who doesn’t know how is just the thing we all dream of being caught in the middle of. 

Bets/ On the Job - sometimes we fight, sometimes we just need to fuck it out.

The Ambiguous Bet by @mandos-sluts - another one from my favorite author. Not gonna lie when I started reading this my thought was this bitch done bit off more than she can chew and Mando’s gonna have to come save her ass. Well, Mando did come, but it was NOT to save her. The man got every little credit worth of what he spent in this fic.

Beskar and Lace by @firstofficerwiggles - not really a ‘bet’ kinda fic, but the reader is like 'Bet'. Its a kinda 'sure okay MANDO let me just DO this for you' kinda vibe. You’ll understand when you read it but, if you are looking for the tension fic OF ALL tension fics its right fucking here. Like this author DRAGGED it out, and its fucking beautiful.

Happenstance by @the-scandalorian - this fic is more on the ‘on the job’ side of things. Classic there’s only one bed, but I’m living for the reader's I’m too fucking tired to care attitude. I also like how theres little clipped scenes where both of them wake up with their hands on each other. It eventually leads to the smut we all want and I love this kinda sleepy but not sleepy stress induced sex haze.

Sequins And Wounds by @djarrex - I think why I like this is because even if it would suit Mando he not about matter of convince. He’s a very cautious man and would normally NEVER just go for it the way he did here. Another thing I liked, something I just got a kick out of, was the costumer service conflict. I can not TELL you how many times I’ve needed a shot before dealing with a costumer and if I knew I wouldn’t get fired there would be a bottle of tequila in my bag before I go into work. so after all that the Smut was just the icing on the cake. I loved the ripping of the dress and the buying of the new one, top tier good boy behavior right there folks.

Fluff/ Softness- Because it what we DESERVE.

Light Sleeper by @honeymandos - because the kid isn’t the only reason why Mando is always grumpy and tired. The reader, unlike me, is a light sleeper, Mando goes bump in the night, smut insues. Over all just soft and well deserved for Mando.

The ‘We Have To Blend In’ fics can also double as Jealously fics - I always love these because you never really know how things are going to go or how they’ll end.

The Salacious Cantina by @mandos-sluts - another author I follow. In this particular fic the reader is NOT happy. She gets over it. But anyway they’re trying to ‘blend in’ but these two still idiots still get called out. Totally worth it though.

Make you Mine by @xcertaindarkthingsx - another great example of going under cover but someone has be an idiot. Otherwise known as Mando get Jealous at work. Pretty much reader gets pushed into the frey for one job and it all goes to hell, man can’t keep his hands to himself so Mando gets possessive. 

Bite Marks by @sirius - Jealous Mando strikes again, loved that part of What is that? When the reader pulled out the dress she was gonna wear. Not to mention the term dudbro was used which is comedy gold. But then tension gets high and Mando nearly fucks the mission, a fight will result, then aggressive smut then after because that’s what we came here for.

When Shit gets Real - basically a collection of fics where shit goes down and theres smut.

The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight by @beskar-cowboy - This smut is apart of a series, but I’m just gonna list this right here. So basically one poorly timed moment causes a very oh-shit-what-the-fuck moment. The helmet has been was removed, I repeat the helmet was removed. Then there’s a moment where its like I don’t really know what to do with you so I’m just gonna fuck you. so yeah, I fucking loved it. 

Rage by @the-scandalorian - I think this is one of my top three all time favorites. Like I read it once then lost it and I went of six hour search through tumblr to find it again. But basically a job goes south and Mando being the fucking WARRIOR he is basically goes feral. Like the fight alone is ALL the foreplay, tension, and build up you need. And then , AND THEN, the smut is so raw, so full of need. Just fucking read the fic, you’ll see why it’s in my top three.

Series- because one post isn’t enough and I need more.

A very good night - @prolix-yuy THEE BEST™ Smut Series. Like Its a THREE part saga. but anyway each little series if basically one big smut fic where it’s broken down in the most delicious of ways and no I will not get over it. I what to be burned with this fic and take it to the afterlife with me. If you are reading this now I DEMAND you go read this fic and support this author because their mind if fucking magical. 

Bloodlust by @dindjarindiaries - This one is not finished, and I’m not sure if it will have a smut but his does get spicy. This is one of my favorite Mando series outside its cannon storyline. It has some Book Of Boba Fett spoilers so be warned, but other than that it’s mostly its own timeline. I love this because Din is finding the courage to function without his helmet, and even though he’s kinda a nervous wreak he still my favorite morally grey man who would kill you for a bag of credits. Boba Fett and his sidekick Shan are still being written in true gremlin behavior and I’m living for it. But my favorite thing about this fic is that it’s a whole undercover mission where the reader and Din find excuses to get spicy with each other and that my friends is Prime We have to blend in trope. My last and final note I will say is that Jealousy is a bitch but fuck she has a great sense of humor, no I will not elaborate.

Prompts/ Request Fic - Because sometimes the best thing come when you have nudge in the right direction.

show me, feel me, teach me by @parker-razor​ - Ooooh honey when I say innocence Kink I mean INNOCENCE KINK! I don’t know if I love more the learning process or the fact that this just started as a drinking game. The humor is one point too, love the fact that Mando had asked if she was saving herself, which those words specifically  paired with the awkwardness of the tone cracked me up. But from there it just escalates and I really don’t want to spoil anything so yes Read this. 10/10. would recommend. 

The ‘How Long Have You Been Standing There’ Fic by @just-here-for-the-moment - This is one of those fics where the tension will kill you before the smut does. It doesn’t help that this fic in particular is a double whammy with the breeding kink I practically LIVE for. But this fic was requested/ prompted so it goes here. But let me say this if Mando said half the shit he says in this fic he won’t be walking either if I had a say.

#15 and #9 by @letterfromvienna - its just a cheeky little fic with some bite to it. you know you have your usual bickering, can’t keep your hands to yourself kinda smut. Honestly its a great fic you don’t want something super soft or super rough.

Gold Chain by @queridopascal - I don’t know guys there's something I find extremely hot about this, I don’t even think I can explain this one. But hey, this author did a great fucking job writing this out for me, and honestly I’d be the person to pull on it like a collar.

Headcannons - because I like to be angry when there isn’t a fic about a fantastic idea.

Running Make-up and blindfold by @winchesterxxi - because running make-up is a tell tale sign that they know their shit. Mando may not seem like the type but I bet he’d get a kick out of seeing a little bit of smudged make-up and this headcannon only feeds that theory.

Fucking you in front of a bounty by @mandosbinkie - this may have more than one person, but it’s written as a headcannon so it’s gonna go here. Anyway alpha male front and center, one bounty doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up and YOU have to pay the price. Not really much of a price, I’d let him keep talking of Mando continues to retaliate in that way. 

Audio - No will not be taking questions at this time

The Mandalorian Hunts you and then he fucks you - look I found this and one of my philosophies in life is Don’t diss it til you try it. Well...I tried and hot damn did this man pull out all the stops. Highkey recommend listening to it alone with thick headphones though.

Don't have the link but the guy who did the audio from before posted a new video and let me tell I straight thought he was reading off a fanfic. Holy shit don’t come at me but that shit was amazing

Good Girl by @man-slut-mando - its literally two words but its so much more. I recomend anything by this blog but this is the first one I ever listened to so it’s going on the list.

Not titled but Ima call it weapon by @man-slut-mando - cheeky dialogue is my drug and no I will not be changing my mind. The tone he used is sending me and I don’t think I’ll ever get over this like ever.

[yonemurishiroku]

Please tell me you actually plan to write that Time Travel Nico AU or if it's written somewhere. I also wonder in this AU, how Older Nico would manipulate his younger self to act around Percy and the others. Would he tell him to tell Percy about his crush before so they can be real friends from now on or just to be a true lone wolf?

OH MY GOD someone's interested in my Time-Travel AU!!! 😭👀 Hiiiii I just want to say that I'm so glad you like it jadhsajkda

To answer your questions:

Technically, I have no plan for the Time-Travel AU with Nico as the antagonist, since, you know, I don't even have a plot. 🤣 All I have is concepts and random scenes I think would be cool if I were to write that. I don't do multi-chaptered, long fic either. I did once and it didn't end well, so I have been writing oneshots every since.

HOWEVER, I am planning to write a Time-Travel oneshot! 🤗👀✨ It won't follow the outlines I posted but is basically a rewrite (does it count as a rewrite if technically Rick didn't even write it?) of what transpired between The Titan's Curse and The Battle of the Labyrinth; featuring:

1/ An Older Nico, who is a God and cares a lot for his younger self.

2/ Luke Castellan (and Minos if I have enough willpower)

3/ A little bit Hades in Nico's childhood in Venice.

It would take some time since I'm snowed under with schoolwork atm but I'd definitely write this just bc no one else would but me. 🤣 This is a lot different from my original Time-Travel AU plot. If anything, I do hope you'd like it. 🥺

To your second question: I think it'd depend a lot in what kind of people the Older/Future Nico is, but ultimately, he wouldn't force his younger self - both in the canon universe and my AU.

Because more than anyone - he understand the clearest how painful it was to hold that crush, and how horrible it felt to have your secret ripped out of your chest. The Older Nico know how much his past-self was struggling, and he experienced Cupid too. He absolutely would not bestow it upon himself.

The only thing he would do regarding the crush is perhaps reassuring Nico, that it's fine - and it'd be fine. Things may be hard (lowkey foreshadowing Cupid), but there's nothing wrong with him or his feelings. The F!Nico - knowing the challanges awaiting - wouldn't alter the course of events as he believes it'd cause consequences, but he can offer the Present Nico some support he knew would be appreciated to overcome said challanges.

I did write in another post (in the same Time-Travel AU), that the Future!Nico would demolish Cupid once the god finishes his business with the Present Nico. The F!Nico wouldn't stop Cupid - the past needs to stay as the past - but whatever doesn't affect the Present Nico's experiences, he can do as he wants. Including taking revenge on Cupid.

As I've said - it'd be widely different if we follow the canon universe and imagine the F!Nico as a happy person, nonetheless, since we're taking this in MY AU - aka where the Nico of the Future has fallen to his devastating fate, I'd say all concepts of friendships and companions (with Percy or the Seven - Hazel is a bit of a special case) are unforgivable to him.

Since I've built this AU with the Older Nico as the antagonized antagonist, it's natural that this Nico would be filled with despair and vengance. He would know better than be outright hostile to the Seven or the other demigods, but he doesn't have any reason to be peachy with those who would later betray him either. So yeah, basically more of a Lone Wolf.

He'd also manipulate his younger self, yes - that's the whole thing why I came up with this AU in the first place jashdjkahdksa. The Nico from the Future has gone through horrible betrayals - he definitely wouldn't wish that on his younger self, now that he's here to warn him.

But time has its course, and the Older Nico would know better than accuse people of something they technically haven't committed yet - we all know how protective Nico is of his friends. He would stay by the sideline, planting seeds of doubt in Nico's head whilst preparing him of what's waiting.

That's everything I currently have in store for this AU. 🤗🤗🤗 Again, thank you a lot for the chance to ramble LOL this AU is my dedication and I'm dedicated to it on a spiritual level, the same goes to every Time Travel AU that has Nico taking care of his younger self ajksdhkjd.

If anything, don't be hesitate to share with me what you have in mind for time travel AUs too!!!