#I thought they would add a different line on full release for this scenario but they didn't.

[silver-horse]

I find it hilarious that in full release Beldron still comments "thanks for offing that drow" after I save them from suffocating. And Nere was casually walking in circles back and forth, having an existential crisis right in front of them. lmao Beldron, are you sure I offed that drow? are you sure about that? Beldron, didn't you see him strolling away with his head still attached?

I imagine they probably left the grymforge together on the same boat. what a fun boat ride that must have been

[dreamii-yume]

not a request but, Idia seems like the type to make a hentai game based on his darling correct? so he uses that as a base to have experience to woo his darling. but now as he tries it irl, he's confused it worked in the game. so why is the darling crying? is there a glitch somewhere? thoughts?

It all started when he thought that you looked like a character from an anime he watched once. He was a fond of the character so, he couldn’t help but to observe you more than he should, hiding his excitement throughout. There, he found out that you don’t just share a similar appearance but a similar personality as well, the perfect embodiment of that character. Idia almost thought that you were some kind of base for that character, cosplaying even, but you were from another world, weren’t you? Could it be that you’re actually that character and just got reincarnated into his world without knowing that you’re an anime character yourself!?

Reverse Isekai, was it? A twist in that overused genre where the fictional character is the one who gets to be trasported to the normal world. Idia was there on the peak of its popularity, reading all the manga, novels that he can find, watching all the anime adaptations along the way. Then the premise just gets redone over and over again that it slowly became boring. Even if they add twists here and there, it still ended up the same.

But now comes you, a real person that got transported into his world! A person who just happens to look and act like the character from one of his beloved shows! You can’t blame him for being this intrigued by your existence! Because how can he not!? This is an otaku’s dream coming true right here!

And best of all...You have his favorite character archetype! How awesome is that!?

Before he knew it, he was all over you. Well, not really...Since he was too shy to actually talk to you, and all he was just doing is either hide behind that tablet of his and a wall at least five meters away. He had already embraced the joys of being a loner and is practically a master of running away from social gatherings or talking in general, but now that it came to this, it became a double-edged sword.

Ortho said to just build up the courage to talk to you if he so badly wants to and he does. He really, really wants to talk to you, at least once...Or twice...Or thrice- The point is that he really wants to. But as supportive as the little brother of his is, he makes it sound so easy. Of course, someone who doesn’t know jackshit about making friends would never be able to master that skill that easily. He cringes at the thought of doing so without any experience, you’d probably see him as another creepy otaku.

Then, it came to him...A thought that proves that he was actually the genius that everyone claims him to be.

Experience. Of course! He’ll just have to gain experience so he can level up! With that, he can conquer your route doing just that! And what better way to do this than to combine it with something what he’s well-experienced with?

So, he started working. His fingers worked on the holographic keyboard faster than he’d ever been, creating a dating simulator game in less than three days. Ortho himself was surprised to see his usually unmotivated and borderline depressed brother having this intense look in his eyes. Idia barely ate or sleep during all of that, but he doesn’t care, what matters is that he finished it.

He finished the game that can finally help himself out, a dating simulator with only one character to focus on. A character who’s basically a spitting image of you and named after you, he even sneaked in some voice lines that he secretly recorded you saying. Idia had observed you longer to know what to write in the game script, which choices you would make, which words you would say, there was even different sprites and assets of you, depending on your emotions! Though, his hand seems to have slipped and before he knew it, he had already hired some Top-tier doujinshi artists to draw some Not-Safe-For-Work CGs of you for some Not-Safe-For-Work scenes. Yeah...He thought so far ahead that it just kinda turned into...Those kinds of simulation games.

But he regrets nothing.

...Other than the fact that he should probably keep this game away from Ortho as much as possible.

Anyway, it was probably one of the games that he took his sweet time with. Even though it was a game that he himself created, it was like he had developed some form of amnesia and was marvelled at his first time playing such masterpiece. All the twists and events left him in awe, squealing at every single CG when your character goes as little as holding his in-game character’s hand. The more...special scenes had him gulping down his own saliva as a physical reaction, the moans and groans that he recorded from you was when you were stretching in the morning, or when you’re startled or exercising, and yet, it fits so well with each sex scene. His face flushed and his pants felt so tight as he read through the dialogue box, his hand later slipping underneath them just so he could relieve his excitement.

“(Y/N)...Hehe, (Y/N)...♡” He blissfully moans as his hand goes up and down his cock, biting his blue lip in anticipation. Sweat was dripping down his forehead and his flaming hair burned a brighter blue, expressing his excitement. His imagination was going ballistic, imagining your own tightness around him as he slid in and out of your slick insides. The closer the scene reached its climax, the faster his hands became, determine to release at the same time as your character. “Haa...(Y/N)~♡ It feels so good...So good...Haha...”

With a satisfied moan, his own strings of semen shoots against his screen, perfectly coming just in time as your character appears, all flushed and exhausted. Idia let out a sigh, calming down from his high with a few strokes here and there to make sure of a satisfying release.

“Haa...Idia-kun, I love you ♡”

That was his favorite dialogue, no matter how many times he replayed this scene, it never fails to arouse him, making him all warm on the inside. A huge blush covered his cheeks as he smirked, slowly building up into an unhinged chuckle. He brushed his hands down the tainted screen, smudging his cum even more as he imagined it as your face. “Aah...Me too...I love you too, (Y/N)~” He whispered, shivering in excitement. “Aw...I can’t wait to have you for real...Wait for a little while, ‘kay? Hehe...”

This plan was a success and certainly helped him gain the confidence and experience that he needed to finally talk to you properly. Memorizing all the available scenarios and route he can go to, he just felt like he can do just about anything right now. With all these knowledge in mind, you surely won’t be weirded out and things wouldn’t be as awkward as he had already formulated a full conversation on his head. A bad end flag was still left arise, but it was placed so low that Idia can’t just spend another batch of his precious time with it, nothing would go wrong if he just do what he practiced, right? For that reason alone, his birthday was coming up and for the first time in forever, he could use a party as an excuse to talk to you. It doesn’t matter who comes anyway, he’ll have Ortho to accommodate them, Idia’s main focus should only be directed at you.

Plus, if he was going to confess on his birthday, then that’s just a major advantage! Plenty of stuff happens when it’s your own character’s birthday in any game, developers becomes extra generous with the drop rates in gachas, they give you more game currency to spend, and extra scenarios with your favorite characters! Sometimes even free stuff of your choice! This would definitely put his chance rate well above what he expected, it’s you after all!

“Happy birthday, Idia-senpai. I brought this gift for you, I hope you like it.” Ah, there it is, his goddess’ voice echoing through the walls. You said that you were going to conduct a birthday interview with him which got his heart beating like crazy. W-Were you going to start the confession event here!? With all these people!? That’s too daring! Though, that’s really charming of you, and a part of him actually wanted that to happen so he could finally point his fingers to these losers-

But no, unfortunately, he doesn’t have that much confidence to give and so, he ended up having to push you somewhere more secluded. Somewhere more...private. Like his room for example- that’s a good place, right~? Nobody can interrupt this interview that way and...and they can do play all sorts of games right after too...That’s fun, isn’t it!?

The interview was surprisingly fun, although it really just consisted of him ranting to you all about his interests. He ended up spilling all facts about his favorite idol group, games, and movies, his big mouth going off on a tangent once again because of that one question. This wasn’t exactly part of the plan, he was planning to give off a smooth vibe to it but he guessed he was just a tad bit under-level for that. Anyway, you ended gracing him with an adorable giggle so, it doesn’t really affect his motives! He’ll still conquer your route like he did with the game!

A few more questions about his favorite and least favorite food comes, Idia couldn’t help but be impatient. When were you going to activate the scenario, huh? The love confession event, it was the one question that he was waiting for. His heart was ready, his body was ready, his everything was ready...So, why were you standing up with a satisfied look on your face? Aren’t you forgetting something here?

“And that concludes our Birthday Celebration Interview! Idia-senpai, thank you for answering all my-“ Idia’s heart skipped a beat as his hands automatically grabbed your hand and pulled you down, rather aggressively.

“W-Wait! Wait, wait, waitwaitwait-“ Idia stumbled over his words, his face flushed as he stared at you with a crooked but nervous smile. “U-Um...! T-There something else...That I want to tell y-you...”

Oh, no...This was that one scenario in the extreme difficulty mode of the game, where you’re not triggering the confession event at all. You’re probably so conflicted with your emotions that he has to do it himself as the main character. It’s not the original route that he’s going for, but it’s fine, he has the script of this mode in memory too, he should be able to pull it off...That’s weird though, he never remembered activating anything to play in this difficulty...Whatever, real life really is something else, isn’t it?

You were surprised and quite honestly, bothered at his sudden outburst but that’s fine. You were the same in the game too, he just had to take control of the situation. “I-I...” He gathered the words in his head, his face heating up than it ever did before.

“(Y-Y/N)...I like- No...” He stammered as he tries his best to form a nervous smile, his heart was beating so fast but that’s not really something new. “...I love you, (Y/N)...”

Idia heard a slight gasp from you but delusions took over his mind before logic can come bursting through, rendering him practically heart-eyed at the situation. He was distracted, but he still waited for your response even if he was already a hundred percent convinced that his confession was a success. It has to be, he had already seen this exact scenario in the game for a millionth time. “...D-Do you...love me too, (Y/N)...?” He fiddled with the tip of his burning hair, leaning close to you as he knows that it’s a special skill that increases his success rate up to at least twenty percent. “...You l-love me too, don’t you~? Hehe...♡”

Yes. You’re going to say yes. You always had said yes in the game as there was absolutely no reason for you to say otherwise. Everything that happened before this went according to plan, he followed every route, said the correct dialogue choices, so there’s no way that he can fuck this one up. He had definitely conquered your route for real this time!

“Ah...” But he had to wonder though, why were you averting your eyes for? That’s cute, but you don’t have to be shy...Just say that you love him too, he can hardly wait! “Idia-senpai...”

“...I’m sorry.”

Idia blinked, his body freezing on its spot as you bowed in front of him so respectfully. Your mouth began to move to deliver more words of explanation for him to understand, but he just couldn’t hear anything else anymore.

What did you say? You’re...sorry? Haha...For what though? That’s weird, that’s not what you were supposed to say, even if this was set in extra hard mode. He did everything correctly so, no matter what difficulty he’s in, you should be able to accept his confession every time.

...Is it a bug in the system? A glitch that he didn’t see?

You called out to him once again, you called out his name and upon looking up, he could only see your face. So full of concern and pity, but no signs of falling in love whatsover. No...You shouldn’t be looking at him like that, what the hell just happened?

This is all wrong...!

Before Idia could even properly process anything, he had found himself on top of you, both frustration and anger building up inside him. His hand, albeit really shaky, had found itself a dangerous clasp around your neck and your expression suddenly turned white. You’re struggling underneath him, like a deer caught by a hunter, kicking and scratching his arms away. But you were scared, he could tell by that look in your eyes, he could easily squeeze your neck in this position after all.

“I-Idia-senpai...!” He heard you call out but your voice just bounced off his ears, he was too distracted by his own shock. This was not in any of the scenarios that he formulated inside his mind, and he created thousands, for Hades’ sake! His breathing became unstable as he began to hyperventilate, sweating immensely as he tries to wreck his brain for whatever the hell he was supposed to do in this scenario. This wasn’t how the game continues after a confession event! Was he too inexperience or under-level to conquer your route? Did he miss a side quest from you or something? What did he do wrong? Was it the lack of gifts of affection? Normally, you were supposed to say that you love him too, embrace him before the two of you share a kiss and-

...A kiss?

Oh...Oh, that’s right! Maybe this is where the code got rewritten and that the kiss should come first now? Maybe your character was taking a different turn, you were probably shifting to other character types to accommodate your new-found feelings...You’re being a Tsundere, aren’t you~? So cute, but you don’t have to push him away though, he’ll keep coming back to you anyways.

...And so, in hopes of desperation, that’s exactly what he did, he leaned down at you as he smashed his lips onto yours. You widened your eyes with a muffled scream coming out of you, but Idia kept your mouth busy as it is. He was on cloud-nine, enjoying your soft lips against his chapped ones so much so that he just instinctively started grinding his hips against yours. You were starting to panic, but that’s fine, that’s a normal reaction. Both in real life and in-game.

By the time that he finished selfishly sucking up your lips, ultimately creating a little bruise on the side, he pulled away with a string of saliva connecting both your tongues together. Idia giggled to himself, the feeling of your lips and tongue was still lingering on his that he can’t help but be hungry for more. However, looking back at you, he blinked as tears suddenly began to stream down your cheeks. Your chest heaving up and down as small hiccups comes out of your every sob.

It made him panic slightly at first, but then remembered a scenario like this once in the game...Though, it wasn’t a scenario as drastic as this one, that he’ll admit. “A-Ah, you shouldn’t cry...” He tried comforting, letting go of your neck and wiping your tears away with a nervous smile. “Y-You’re not supposed to cry after a c-confession event, it’s not in your file...”

You flinched at his touch. “S-Stop, please...L-Let me go...” You whimpered, lifting your arms up to try and shield yourself away from him. “I-I won’t tell anyone, I-I swear-!”

Idia’s hand twitched, quickly covering your mouth as a nervous rection so that he wouldn’t hear the words that he doesn’t want to hear anymore. He felt scared to touch you now, seeing how defensive you got, his little angel’s crying and it’s all because of him. Your words certainly impacted him, but he shook his head instead, he has to keep himself from looking down.

“...You shouldn’t say that either, that’s not in your script.” He said with a bit of stricter tone onto it, attempting to show you how capable he can really be. He grabbed your wrist and forced your hands open, revealing your terrified expression. “Don’t worry...It’s just a little twist on the story, I’m sure. I just have to restart the system, right...?”

“I-I’ll fix you up soon enough, H-Honey~” You watched him with eyes slowly widening in realization and terror as he started to untie his tie, to remove the birthday outfit that he clearly dislikes. You were frozen, you can’t move, not like you could do much with someone as big as Idia straddling above your stomach but you were left immobile with fear. His use of love words sounds extremely clumsy and Idia himself cringes at the sound of it coming from his own mouth but he’s enthusiastic. That doesn’t make it any less terrifying for you at all.

The game’s not finish yet. It’s just as he expected, there was a little glitch that needs a little fixing. It was the cause of a scenario as unreasonable as this one to appear. But it’s fine. He can fix it all up, he can fix you all up and when he’s done with that, he’ll definitely conquer your route for real this time.

After all, there’s no game that he can’t finish, that would be a shame to his Otaku title! It doesn’t matter if it’s his birthday, he’s going to work all night to fix this very unpleasant glitch in you. What a pain~ Idia wonders what kind of price he’ll get from you after this.

...Not that he’s going to complain anytime soon lol

Idia has the personality of an ugly bastard. Just saying *cough*

[alyblacklist]

Hey!!

I am new to your tumblr but I read your fics all the time (and reread them more often than I should admit lol)

I think you’re really amazing!

I’m so relieved that you answer asks and discuss speculation because I really need someone to talk this through.

So, I have watched a couple of other thriller series along the same lines where the makers don’t have any issues killing off major characters off the show.

There are a couple of things that are happening in this show which I think (and I honest to god hope I’m wrong) are building up to them killing off Ressler.

They get together, they partially admit their feelings (which we’ve been waiting for too Damn long) - so they get closure. Ressler is in the hospital, they show him deteriorating, he goes into v-fib.

And all of this is not that much of a game changer but hear me out. The task force is being dismantled and they need to give the viewers sth that they won’t expect. And bring some new spice in s9. With Liz going full time into crime, it seems a lot easier for them to kill off Ressler.

My only counter debate to my point is that they would have killed him off the moment he got shot (like they did with Meera) rather than show him being treated.

I really need to know what you think. Please tell me he’s not gonna die cause honestly who on earth will watch the show then?

Hi there! I have to say a special thank you to you, @alrightygirl, and to my anon (above) who I have lumped in, for the shoutouts on my stories. I came to Tumblr in the first place during the hiatus between S2/S3 in part because I realized some of my fav fanfic authors (@aussieokie !) were here so I am especially happy to read this.

I'm not sure people realize how much we fanfic writers thrive on feedback, and especially on the multi chapter works we invested so much time into. So thank you, and I have to say I really am looking forward to the end of the season so I can step away from the BTS hunt and my inbox and get back to just creating. Hopefully the writers will leave things in a good place in 8.22 so there's plenty to work with. Ok, on to the substance of your ask and I'll put in a jump because I can already tell this is getting long.

I really do NOT think Ressler will die. I didn't think so before 8x19 and I still don't think so after the "medical drama" of 8x20. Because that's what I think they're doing - they're creating drama because it's the end of the season and they want people freaking out and guessing over who will survive. Call it the curse of cable, or thrillers or whatever, but we as audiences have been conditioned to believe that major characters have to die every year, even if it's pointless.

The thing is, The Blacklist has never been that show. They have killed three "main characters" in the life of the show. Meera in S1 (and I later read Parminder only had a one-year deal), Tom in S5 (with huge fanfare and foreshadowing and an entire "hero" arc following a failed spinoff with a new series eagerly awaiting him at NBC), and Samar in S6 after the actress specifically requested to be released from her contract after S5 and gave them time to write her character an appropriate conclusion arc which also had huge foreshadowing.

Could they go a different route this year? Sure. We're late in the life of the show and twists and cliffhangers and budgets all come into play but the thing is - I just still really don't see it when it comes to Ressler.

For me, the characters' perspective is always paramount. What purpose would Ressler's death serve? It would make Liz more upset (because, you know, Sam, Tom, Katarina, her sister, her whole team weren't enough?). And other than that......?

The audience already knows the gravity of the stakes. So does Liz. So does every other character. The only purpose Ressler's death would serve that I see (and to be clear, I am focusing only on the characters in the show not the irrational fandom hate for his character) is to "punish" Liz more, to make her feel worse about what she's done, to deal another body blow on top of all that she's suffered already.

I don't think Liz needs that. (I'm positive nearly all of Reddit disagrees).

She turned herself in to Cooper because she recognized the bloodshed needed to end after she FEARED losing him. She stayed by Ressler's side and spoke her entire speech in the hearse and by his unconscious side because she can't handle losing him too. This is exactly the scenario the writers teased when Eisendrath teased all those months ago that maybe he would use her feelings for him to get her to come back.

Source (X)

He didn't overtly "use" her feelings in the end because that is not Ressler. He is not that guy. But in the end, her feelings for him were EXACTLY why she turned herself in.

I don't think Liz doesn't need to be punished further or suffer more in anyone's eyes except those who still can't come to terms with her war against Red. I don't think the writers feel that way about her character. To the contrary, they introduced a hallucinated Kaplan to try to give her a pass and also had her give lengthy explanations to both Ressler and Aram defending her behavior. I think from all I have read and seen that the writers view Liz as a victim of circumstances caused by Red - something Cooper has also articulated to Panabaker along the way in defending why Liz has done what she's done under extraordinary circumstances. We can all agree or disagree on the why and the method and the extremes but the bottom line is that I think the writers still view Liz as more "victim" or "forced criminal" than diabolical villain so killing Ressler, on top of everyone else Liz has lost, is just another deep blow on top of all the blows that have turned her into who she is. I think we're past the point that that is necessary and we'll be even further past that point after 8.21/8.22 when Liz learns some truths.

This has gotten crazy long so I'll just add these final thoughts which I have also articulated in prior posts:

- I think if the writers were going to write out Ressler - an original character from the Pilot - they would do so with more hype and fanfare and story than what he's gotten this season. Sure he was present in 8x19 a lot but it was really Liz's story. She was the heroine saving him and moving them from place to place while he suffered. I think the writers have enough respect for Diego to give him at least as much substantial story as Tom and Samar got in their sendoffs if this was really the end. He's a good guy and a good character and he deserves more than for his final moments to be a quiet fade to black in Vfib in a hospital with only Park present (or even Liz present for a final, vague, goodbye). A show that can't do that isn't a show I'm interested in watching, you know?

- his agents congratulated him on the S9 renewal back when it was announced. Hardly an indicator that a major character is getting jettisoned.

-You'd also think, if he was leaving this season, that he'd be doing more to elevate his profile on social media like he did at the end of Homeland to gear up for a new gig. He's done NOTHING.

-Finally, there has been literally nothing in JB's recent interview with The Blacklist Exposed, any of the BTS, the press, the episode descriptions, the crew photos, or anything else to date to indicate that a major actor/character is leaving. I know people can hide the ball but usually in this show, something slips through. So far - nothing. (No, I don't take Megan's thank you's or wrap party photos that way).

Anyway, hopefully we'll all be here at this time next year (or a few weeks earlier if things are back to normal), analyzing S9 and all that has happened. Thanks for the ask!

[failedintsave]

I tried the MTL pairing generator for rarepair month...aaaand it told me to stay in my lane lol. And then it told me to write some Rachel/Roy Cornickleson which I just don't think I'm ready to take on 🙃 So here's some Skwistok set just before Doomstar that I've been fiddling with.

(gets just a little nsfw near the beginning)

Stages

Everyone handles grief differently.

Skwisgaar groaned as muscular arms pushed him against the wall, the reinforced metal door to his room on the submarine banging shut as they cleared the threshold. Hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place while lips and tongue and teeth worked over his neck. He clung desperately to the body pressed against him, fingers twisting in blue cotton material and yanking it upward. The mouth latched onto his throat pulled away as the t-shirt was hauled over his head and Toki's fevered eyes found his before rushing forward again, mashing their lips together with sloppy abandon. He gripped Skwisgaar by the belt, half dragging him as they stumbled their way to his bunk and collapsed. Breathing came in gasps and sighs as Toki's weight pinned him down into the mattress, the pressure both exhilarating and mollifying, an anchor to hold onto as the life he'd known for so many years turned upside down and twisted away in the wind.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of innocence, loss of trust, loss of opportunities. It was all meaningless, really. In his experience, something new always came along to fill the space so why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

Boots thumped to the floor, kicked off in haste. His shirt was peeled away before sturdy hands lifted his hips to free him of his jeans, calloused fingertips gliding back up his thighs and making him shiver. Toki climbed up to kiss him again, hungrily, as if trying to swallow him whole, their teeth knocking against each other. Skwisgaar ran his hands over every inch of skin he could reach, the hard lines of Toki's shoulders, the raised ridges of overlapping scars on his back, hip bones where they ground down against his own. Heat pooled low in his belly like magma aching to erupt. He wanted this, needed this right now, more than he'd ever needed anything in his life. How long had they danced around this, stealing moments and blaming it later on booze or post-show adrenaline, walking right up to the line and peeking over before backing away again? In the name of preserving band dynamics? A lot of good that had done, they'd still ended up where they are now, Dethklok tipping over the precipice into self-destruction.

Another loss to add to the list.

Toki pulled back, glacier blue eyes raking over Skwisgaar's features with manic light, chestnut locks of hair falling in disarray to frame his face. Skwisgaar reached up and tucked a strand behind his ear and Toki's expression shifted, the wild yearning softened into something gentler, less wolfish. He sat up to kneel between Skwisgaar's legs, hand skimming from his collar bone to his navel and leaving a trail of fire, over the inside of his thigh and dipping beneath, pausing until Skwisgaar breathed his assent, whispered his name.

Fingers tested gingerly, gradually increasing in depth and pressure before he gripped him by the waist and hauled him onto his lap. Skwisgaar canted his hips, lip catching between his teeth at the feel of Toki against him, his pulse hammering in his ears. His head angled back into the pillows and a wordless moan escaped his throat when Toki eased forward, back arching as lightning raced up his spine. Skwisgaar's fingers knotted in the bed sheets as Toki released a shuddering breath over him, rocking into him slowly, building rhythm into a steady push and pull.

Loss of professional boundaries. Definitely not something to be mourned.

The devastating sensation of fullness where they joined drove all coherent thought from Skwisgaar's mind and his eyes rolled back under closed lids, panting nonsense and expletives, begging for release. His toes curled as Toki matched stokes with his hand to the tempo of his thrusts, coaxing him through his climax until tipping over the edge after him with a whining sigh. Call and response, Skwisgaar thought dazedly as his superheated skeleton melted into jelly. When he could open his eyes again, his gaze landed on Toki's face above him, watching him with an openly heartsick expression.

"I… hads to do dat… at least once before dis ams all over." The broken whisper settled over him like a burial shroud.

Skwisgaar shook his head, holding out his arms. "Come heres."

Swallowing thickly, Toki obeyed, winding his arms under Skwisgaar's shoulders and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Skwisgaar shifted to find a comfortable position, their sweat-slick chests sliding against each other as he angled slightly onto one side, hand cradling Toki's skull to keep him near.

"Seem pretties stupids we aments been doing dat dis whole time, honestlies."

Loss of time.

Toki held him tightly and Skwisgaar felt the tremor in his grip. He rubbed his cheek against the crown of the other man's head, humming tunelessly as he waited for him to speak, knowing already the fears plaguing his mind. He'd faced them often enough in his younger days, even if the scenario now was more complicated. It was hard to compare wondering where your next gig, your next meal ticket, might come from to wondering where to go after you'd already stood at the top.

Sniffling preceded the feeling of wetness against his shoulder, Toki mumbling against his skin. "What happens now? Ams we all just gonna says 'fucks you, see ya laters' now dat de band ams done? Even now dat dey tells us we gots to plays music to saves de world?"

Skwisgaar fiddled with a strand of brown hair for a moment before answering. "Well, I don'ts know abouts all dis saves-de-woirld business. But whats I do know ams band break ups. And, euughh, ja dat ams a pretty standords opseratings procedures."

"But does it has to be likes dat? We coulds all stays pals, right?"

"Dat ams...compslickateds." He dropped the lock and let his hand fall to Toki's shoulders. "Somet'ing like dis...people tends to ezpecks yous to euughh, picks sides. It ams messy. And it never warks out, t'ings always comes apart in de end."

Loss of the longest working relationships he'd had in his life.

Toki said nothing, so Skwisgaar continued if only to fill the silence. "But it coulds be worse, you knows? We gots more moneys den god, what's so bad what cants be fixed wif dat?" The statement produced a cold feeling trickling down behind his ribs, like swallowing a heaping spoonful of snow. "Nones of it acktualies matters. Just goes on to da next t'ings."

"I just... don'ts know what to does if dere aments a Dethklok."

"Whatevors you wants! You coulds buy de whole stores of airplane models, or you coulds builds you own splasharoonies water parks. Hell you coulds probablies starts a new bands wif dose guys from dat T'underhorse group."

"No," Toki murmured, face still compressed against Skwisgaar's neck. "I don't wants a new band. Dis was da one."

The possessive satisfaction he felt at those words tied his stomach in guilty knots.

"Ja it ams was a pretty good gigs…"

Toki shifted, laying his head on the pillow next to Skwisgaar's, his forlorn gaze searching his face for answers. Skwisgaar rolled so they were laying face to face, legs still twisted under the sheets.

Not everything was tied up in the feud that caused the band to split. What if it didn't have to be a total loss? Surely there were parts here that could be salvaged.

"Okej...so who says we haves to do anyt'ings at all?"

Toki's brows cinched. "What you means?"

Maybe, just this one thing, he could keep.

Skwisgaar's lips curved with the ghost of a smile. "I's already mades it to de top, ams de fastest guitarist alives...coulds be I shoulds just quits while I gots de title, ja? Retires, takes my ball and goes home wif it."

Toki snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Builds mineself a giant house up in de mountains or somet'ing. Or travels and just fucks off on de resgiduals forever, not worries about a deadlines or demos ever again. Plays guitar just for funs."

He saw his grin mirrored on Toki's face as the other man nodded dreamily.

"Maybe you...comes wif me?" Fluttery nerves tickled behind his sternum. "If you wants to."

Toki's eyes widened. "Wait. Whats?"

Just this. He could be happy with this.

"Y-you means it? You aments just messings with Toki?"

He shook his head. "How long dids we waste before nows? For not'ing. I'm sick ofs waitings. Let's just goes."

A heartbeat passed, and then Toki's mouth was on his again. Less frantic this time, hopeful rather than desperate. He cradled Toki's jaw, taking his time as he returned his affections, deepening the kiss and tracing languid strokes over his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Their limbs wound together in a twisted bramble, bodies drawing tightly together, fitting like puzzle pieces.

A repetitive, discordant riff sounded from the pile of clothes abandoned on the floor and Toki's head jerked away. Flashing an apologetic grin, he rolled away to fish his phone from his pocket, sliding his pants up loosely around his hips.

"Sorries, be rights back!" He whispered, pressing the screen to answer. "Oh hei, Rockso!*

"Hows do you even has signals down here?" Skwisgaar called after him as he stepped into the hall, then flopped back onto the pillows to stare at the ceiling, counting the shiny rivets in the metal plating.

This was doable. Tomorrow they would bury more than just a mentor, they would lay to rest their careers as the biggest metal band in existence. The world at large would mourn their passing, but Skwisgaar wouldn't dwell on what's done and over. Not if he had new prospects to look forward to. Something always came along, and he never looked back.

"I tolds Magnus dat I woulds sit wif hims tomorrow." He heard Toki's muffled voice through the crack he'd left in the door.

A shadow passed over his thoughts at the name, like someone walking across his grave. It was uncomfortable to say the least, to have their former guitarist back in the fringes of their lives. Toki had a habit of finding friendship in questionable places, but where the clown was mostly an annoyance and sometimes a financial drain, his relationship with Magnus left Skwisgaar apprehensive. It didn't ease his mind when Toki insisted the older musician was different now. How could he know? He hadn't lived with the man, hadn't walked on eggshells during every rehearsal or songwriting session, hadn't watched as he plunged a knife into a bandmate.

But Magnus had also saved Toki with his insulin. He'd been there for Toki as a shoulder to lean on when the band had started to fall apart, too preoccupied with their own issues to spare a minute for their youngest member.

So maybe Toki was right. Things change; he'd never expected that a wedge could be driven between Nathan and Pickles far enough to end their friendship in such a catastrophic way, but here they were. And if Magnus still harbored any resentment for the band, their breakup was probably a balm to the old wound of rejection. What else could he wish on them? He was probably loving this.

The door scraped shut and Toki slipped back into the blankets gingerly, as if expecting Skwisgaar to be asleep. When he saw that he was still awake, Toki leaned in with a grin.

"Sorries...now, where was we…?" He murmured, capturing Skwisgaar's lips tenderly. "Oh ja, you was tellings me how we's gonna runs away togedders into de sunsets."

"Pfff. Dat am hardlies what I saids."

More kisses peppered his cheek and jaw. "Dats what I heards."

"Well I always knew yous was tone deafs, I didn'ts realize you ams just all de way hards of hearingks." His arm encircled Toki's back as the brunette nestled in again.

"Tells to me about wheres we gonna goes. Tells me about our house on tops of de mountains."

Skwisgaar snorted. Of the two of them, his was not the more vivid and fanciful imagination. But staring up at the blank canvas that the brushed metal panels of ceiling created, he envisioned a future for them to share. They squabbled playfully over locations and home design styles. They named off outlandish things they would fill their home with, like an even bigger ruby metronome or a trampoline room or an indoor pool shaped like a guitar and filled with champagne. They listed places they'd toured that they wanted to visit again, and locations they hadn't been yet but had always hoped to see.

"Can we gets a cat?" Toki asked suddenly, making Skwisgaar laugh airily.

"If we haves to?" He laughed again as Toki nodded against him. "But I'm not cleaningks up after it, dat ams all you, pal."

"Okei." Toki sighed deeply, settling in more comfortably. "Okei. I feels a lots less scareds now about all dis."

His hand glided up from where it had been resting at Skwisgaar's hip to lay warm over his heartbeat.

"I'll miss Dethklok. A whole lots. But now I t'inks I ams acktualies looking forwards to what comes next."

Still staring at the steel plates above, Skwisgaar grinned at the pictures they'd painted in his mind.

"Ja, me toos."

He covered Toki's hand with his own. However much they stood to lose after tomorrow, his heart felt lighter at what they were about to gain together. There was no reason to dwell on what was gone.

Everyone handles grief differently.

Laying on his bunk, Skwisgaar's eyes roamed the scuffed plate ceiling overhead, lingering on rusted rivets and water stains. The imperfections seemed to move and writhe like crawling insects under the influence of whatever handful of pills Pickles had given him. A half-drained bottle of vodka lay cradled against his chest, the mouth stoppered by his thumb. Fire burned in his belly from the alcohol, but cold fury pulsing through his veins tempered it.

He'd been prepared for Dethklok to end, had even accepted the idea that his career as a guitarist was over, diminished to a hobby. Playing guitar was his lifeblood, his purpose, and he'd been about to let that go. What had he been thinking? How had he gotten so wrapped up in fantasy that throwing away his entire self had seemed like a plausible course of action.

Loss of objectivity. Fortunately it seemed to be temporary.

He took a long pull from the bottle, dribbling a little and not bothering to wipe it away. Stupid Toki, needing to be comforted like a child with make-believe bedtime stories. He couldn't just man up and move on like everyone else, like Skwisgaar had been doing since he was a teen, finding his next audition, his next couch to crash on, his next temporary alliance with subpar musicians to make ends meet. It couldn't have been an easier landing for him either, no concerns about hunger or homelessness or deportation hanging over his head. He was set up for success and still couldn't handle it.

Fucking idiot needed so much attention, so much coddling, he'd even run straight into harm's way to try and make a friend. Of all people, he'd had to choose Magnus, that vindictive bastard. Of course he'd still been carrying a grudge, when had he ever let anything go in the past? And they'd known it.

A pair of divots on the ceiling stared back at him, one dark, one catching the light. Glaring back at him mockingly, winking at his impotent rage.

They'd known. They'd known, they knew, they knew.

Skwisgaar knew. And he'd said nothing.

Then he'd watched again, frozen, as Magnus drove a knife into someone close to him.

Skwisgaar thrashed upright, a strangled roar bursting from his lungs as he flung the bottle at the wall. He kicked at the bedside table bolted to the wall, denting it from below, then spun around to tear the sheets from his bunk and hurl them across the room. This wasn't the trade he'd prepared for, this wasn't the deal he'd made with himself.

His eyes fell on his Explorer propped in the corner. He reached for it, wrapping both hands around the ebony fretboard, holding it like an axe and swinging it against the wall. He bashed it into the floor, the dresser, screaming until his throat was raw and the guitar was cracked into useless chunks of wood and fiberglass connected by twisted strings. He dropped the pieces in a heap, sinking to the ground to lean against the side of his bed, his shoulders heaving with labored panting.

The door of his room scraped open, and in his periphery he saw a figure standing, backlit by the dim red glow in the corridor. Broad-shouldered, straight hair dangling about their head. His heart seized for a moment before the figure spoke, shattering his hallucination.

"What are you doing in here?" Nathan's gravelly voice was cautious.

Skwisgaar didn't turn, eyes still focused on the debris ahead of him. The stainless steel guitar strings seemed to wriggle like worms in grave soil, consuming the corpse of his instrument. He waited until he caught his breath before trying to respond.

"What does it looks like I'm doingks?"

Nathan shifted in the doorway. "Losing your mind."

He chuckled mirthlessly.

Loss of sanity? Maybe.

"You've been locked up in there a while. Maybe you should, you know. Come out here. With the rest of the band."

"Fucks off."

Nathan didn't move. Skwisgaar felt the urge to rage at the other man rise in him, to shout in his face, demand to know why it had taken him so long to patch things over with Pickles, why he let it go so far that he'd upset all of their lives so horrifically. But the feeling passed, his body drained from his previous outburst and from trying to filter a pharmacy's worth of substances through his liver.

"We're gonna find him, you know. Charles has people everywhere looking already."

One shoulder rose and fell in a halfhearted shrug. "Whatevers. Who cares."

They could have been a four-piece. If he really wanted to rage at someone it would be his past self. How different would things be right now if he'd never given that gutter rat a chance after missing his audition time? How much of what they achieved would they have really missed out on? How many rerecording sessions and stupid arguments and publicized blow outs could have been avoided? What would they really have been missing?

He certainly wouldn't mourn the loss of a constant source of annoyance. Of an immature tag-along with a hair trigger temper. Of a loud and boisterous whirlwind of silliness and color and sincerity.

Loss of his shadow. Loss of his muse. Loss of his best friend. Loss of his future. Loss of…

Loss of…

He couldn't breathe.

"Just leaves me alone. Please." He gritted out, proud of the steadiness of his voice as his stomach began to roil and his eyes prickled with tears.

Nathan hesitated. "Should I...close this?"

Skwisgaar nodded and after another moment the steel frame clanged shut. His vision blurred as tears welled and spilled over, his breath returning in short gasping puffs which rolled over into sobs that rattled his frame.

They'd had one day. Not even a day. An evening. Hours.

He wept until he was sick, vomiting clear liquor and not much else onto the floor next to the remnants of his guitar. He wept until his tears were spent and his head throbbed in tandem with his heart, even though he didn't understand how the muscle still carried a beat when the rhythm had been taken away.

Eventually he had nothing left. His face felt swollen, his eyes were gritty. Skwisgaar rolled to his hands and knees, avoiding the puddle of sick as he rocked up onto wobbly legs. He looked at the door, wondering if the others were still awake. If they were sitting in the lounge, drowning their sorrows. He felt like he wore a lead weight around his neck, bowing under the pull of it. It might be better just to sleep.

He turned to the naked mattress, but a scrap of blue on the floor near the foot of the bed caught his attention. A faded cotton t-shirt lay where it had been discarded. Skwisgaar stared at it for several long moments. He stepped closer to the bed, to the shirt.

And kicked it underneath the frame and out of sight before turning for the door.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of purpose. Loss of self. Loss of connection. Loss of…

It was all meaningless, really. So why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

[masonscig]

go

pairing | mason x sofía

word count | 4.3k

warnings | angst, blood, body horror, gore. please let me know if i need to add any other tags!

tags | @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @masonsfangs, @queerbrujas, @nerdferatum, @peonylon, @yoru-no-nekousagi

author’s note | sorry in advance – i know this wouldn’t happen in canon like. at all, but i just love making mason do some introspection :-) 

read on ao3!

•─────────────────•

He was sure that he’d ground a line into the linoleum floor from how fast he was pacing. Nate’s voice was long gone from his subconscious – at this point he couldn’t be comforted.

For fourteen days he’d been outside that room, day in and day out.

He left for the basic necessities like… showering when absolutely necessary, but if anyone dared to try to relieve him, he was a gnashing, snarling mess. After the first couple days, they just left him alone.

They wouldn’t allow him in.

The most he’d heard from her was a mumbled greeting (said to someone else) through a cracked door.

He slumped into the chair he’d parked outside the door, fatigue curling around his muscles, winding its way up his nerves, the brute of it settling on his eyelids.

Fighting sleep wasn’t that hard – it’d never been this hard.

He’d been a tense ball of both rage and distress for so long that the first time he unclenched – there, hunched over in an uncomfortable folding chair – was due to pure exhaustion.

The metronome on the other side of the door was the only thing keeping him awake.

As long as he could hear her pulse through the walls, he wasn’t leaving.

He had to do something to stay awake. She could call him in any minute now –

So he started counting. One, two, three.

This is so fucking stupid, he thought, curling his hands into fists so tight that his skin screamed at him to stop before he broke through.

But he kept counting, kept counting until he was well into the thousands, not caring how much time had passed.

Thankfully, her heartbeat was steady, strong, so he knew she was still on the other side of the wall. That’s all he could ask for since he’d been kept in the dark for days.

Counting at least kept his mind off of the things that (rightfully) tormented him.

Mason could count on one hand the times he’d been truly terrified in his life. Most of them had happened the past few years.

Lots of times if he tried hard enough, he could feel the fragmented remnants of fear from a past life he knew nothing about, but those moments were rare and fleeting.

He usually pushed them down, deep down, until they bobbed to the surface like some deep sea anomaly that was trying to tug at his curiosity. It normally didn’t amount to much, but every once in a while he divulged in it, experiencing that bone deep ache of something he didn’t even think himself capable of feeling in the first place.

Since he met Sofía, though, fear was interwoven into his everyday life, like the ashes of his past were meticulously sprinkled across Wayhaven and he couldn’t do a single thing but feel it over and over and over.

Nonchalance and deflection couldn’t shield him from the shit he’d been through the past two weeks.

He’d taken the worst tongue lashing from Rebecca he’d ever gotten – it was the first time he wanted to curl into himself and hide.

“You knew how she felt about this,” Rebecca whispered furiously, her eyes well past brimming with tears.

She blinked them away, tearing into him as they streaked down her cheeks and onto the linoleum, not even pausing to wipe them.

“Our policy has always been to turn those who are one hundred percent consenting to the process, and you deliberately breached protocol when you knew this wasn’t what she wanted.”

Agent Olmos was sobbing through her anger, striding towards him while he backed farther and farther down the hallway towards the exit.

He let her continue, as did the rest of Unit Bravo, watching wide-eyed from behind her as she tore him to shreds in the same warehouse she aided in making their home.

“I hope you know that you cannot run from this. I plan on pursuing punishment to its full extent,” she said through stuttered breaths. “The worst the Agency can give.” The threat tacked on at the end of her tirade haunted him for days. And he’d never forget the look of absolute dejection tugging at every inch of her body.

Unit Bravo had stopped trying to console him days before.

Well, Nate and Felix stopped.

Adam was… vastly less understanding. He was furious, nearly as furious as Rebecca, but for different reasons.

He’d shut Mason out the second he’d chosen wrong, siding with Rebecca immediately.

Nate was still on the fence, opting to try to maintain the peace.

Felix was the only one who’d stood by Mason through it all.

“We’ve been kept in Wayhaven to protect her, right? Well, he did what he thought was protecting her at the time. And she’s alive, right?”

Mason overheard Felix defending him in hushed tones, trying to plead his case to Adam.

Well, he was right. He did exactly what he thought would save her at the time.

But he really didn’t think, he did.

Seeing her in a crumpled heap of nothing but limbs and blood triggered the worst of that feeling he tried suppressing.

If he had to put a name to the feeling, he’d probably say it was like being struck by a lightning bolt. Fear zapped him, violently so, each nerve ending in his body on edge, leaving behind a painful sting.

He’d sunk his fangs into her neck before they could stop him, releasing venom into the bite as Adam’s hand grabbed at his shoulder.

“Let me fucking go –” he yelled, thrashing in Adam’s ironclad grip.

“Is she breathing?” Nate asked in a raised voice, directing Felix while trying to keep Adam from crushing Mason.

Felix crouched next to Sofía's bloodied form, pressing fingers to the other side of her neck, shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Yeah, she’s breathing.”

“We have to get out of here now, Adam,” Nate shook his head frantically. “We might not make it back in time –”

“We will.” Adam said matter-of-factly, jaw firmly set.

“Let him carry her.”

“Absolutely not, he deliberately compromised the mission –”

“There was nothing deliberate about it. Please, we need to go –”

“Guys?”

Felix’s timid voice tore them both out of their argument and Mason stopped thrashing for a moment to look where he was pointing: her neck.

The scar was shrinking before their eyes, the crescent moon disappearing, replaced with her smooth, warm skin.

A low groan of pain echoed through the room. They collectively winced at the sound.

“She’s healing.”

The first crack was the loudest, reverberating off of the walls like a gunshot, startling everyone.

But with each one an even scarier sound came from her lips, the garbled broken moans filling the space between them and sending chills up Mason’s spine.

“We have to go, now.”

Nate was demanding, not asking, at that point. Adam gave him a curt nod before releasing Mason, one hand still grasping his arm.

“Take her to the warehouse. We have to prepare for the worst case scenario. Be on guard.”

“She’s going to survive,” Mason growled, shaking out of Adam’s grip.

“We don’t have time for arguments, guys, she’s turning right now –” Felix was nearly shouting, frantic and unprepared to witness what was happening in front of him.

Mason’s arms were curling underneath her back and the bend of her knees before another word was uttered.

“Felix go with him –” Nate called after them.

“Got it,” he nodded, already rushing to keep up with Mason’s lightning fast gait.

Felix smashed the large glass door open with pointed feet, trying desperately to clear pathways before Mason could get there.

One of the shards split the skin of Mason’s cheekbone open, but he barely winced, determined to push himself to his absolute limit to make it back to the warehouse in time.

The way every muscle in his body screamed at him like they never had before was nothing if it meant she’d be safe.

He could ignore the pain, sure.

He couldn’t ignore what was happening in his arms, though.

Crack after agonizing crack, she was breaking apart in his arms, her body shattering and putting itself together.

All he could do was grit his teeth and push himself harder.

Felix was clearly more affected, his expression one of horror, trying not to react to her cries of pain.

By the time they made it to the warehouse doors, she was shrieking, her animalistic screams slicing through the dead of night.

“Where do we – what do we do –” Felix was panicking, looking to Mason for an inkling of guidance.

“My room,” Mason grunted, forcing himself to sprint the last hundred feet to his bedroom.

For the last few minutes of her transformation, he and Felix sat by her side, trying to hold her down while she thrashed through the pain.

Her body stretched and broke and grew underneath their palms, her entire frame changing before their eyes.

She was still bloodied, but not battered, all of her lacerations from their last fight zipping up until there wasn’t a trace that she’d taken any damage.

The room was tense, even more so when Adam stepped in, his gaze steely, his glare cutting.

By the time Nate joined the room (thankfully) the worst of it was over, and she stilled, transitioning from loud moans of pain to labored breaths.

“Is it over?” Felix whispered, his tear streaked face glistening in the light when he looked up at Adam.

Adam nodded, lips set in a firm line. “If she comes to, she’s survived. If she turns feral, we’ll have to finish her off before Agent Olmos arrives.”

 Mason’s voice was guttural, eyes wild, coming from a place of protectiveness that surprised even him.

“You’re not touching her –” he pushed off of the bed and stood at his full height, chin tilted slightly to eye the other man with a menacing glare. “– not if I have anything to say about it.”

“It is not up for debate. We will not risk keeping her alive for your ignorant, selfish reasons,” Adam nearly spat, voice unwavering.

When he said he’d kill for the Agency without hesitation, Mason didn’t think Adam would take it this far. 

She was a part of the team… she was one of them.

“You’re that comfortable killing one of your own?” He shouted, his own volume foreign to him.

He wasn’t that guy.

He was the laid back one. The one who didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone.

She’d done this to him. She’d snuck her way into his life a fucking song Felix played on loop until it was on repeat at the back of his mind for months and months and months.

“I’m comfortable following protocol, despite your apparent imperviousness to rules.”

“Adam, Mason, please,” Felix whispered from below. “She wouldn’t want this.”

Icy green and grey eyes were downcast, almost in shame at their outbursts.

Mason turned away from Adam, rolling his lips. “You’re right.”

“I apologize for arguing, but I will not change my mind.”

Mason nodded once, kneeling down next to Sofía's form as Adam slipped out of the door.

When she finally awoke, she was surrounded by the entire team – Unit Bravo and her mother.

She blinked slowly, adjusting to the dim lighting.

“Mason?” Her half lidded gaze stopped on him and her brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here – what happened – last thing I remember is getting knocked out –”

Struggling to sit up, she shifted her weight until she was upright. “Did we finish the mission? Did you guys make it out safe?”

“We have a lot to discuss, Sofía,” Nate said cautiously, stepping forward until he was looking over the bed.

“About the mission?”

“Not exactly.”

She stiffened at Nate’s tone, appearing a bit more alert, her eyes darting across each person’s somber expression.

“What’s going on?”

“You almost died, Sofía,” Felix murmured, struggling to keep his voice even.

She still looked puzzled, her eyes flitting between everyone in the room, gauging their reactions to what Felix said.

She landed on Mason, gaze pleading. 

Tell me. Be honest with me, they said.

“Dammit, I had to – I couldn’t just let you –” He couldn’t finish his sentence.

Mason knew he didn’t fuck up, but it sure felt like he did.

She crumbled before him, her expression one of a person who’d realized her humanity had been stolen from her.

Fisting the sheets, she looked down at her clenched hands, before ripping the cloth away, staring at her body in sheer disgust.

“This can’t be happening –” she whispered, her breathing becoming more and more frantic.

She rotated her hands in front of her face, scanning her long slender fingers (that weren’t before) with wide eyes.

A choked sob silenced her, her shoulders, hands, lips trembling.

“I know this isn’t what you wanted, but we can work with you. We can accommodate you –”

She cut Nate off with a half-laugh, half-sob.

Whatever retort she was going to spit in his direction wasn’t coming, instead replaced with hysterical cries.

And whatever Mason planned to say to her wasn’t coming either.

He wasn’t one to preplan speeches, especially ones that were… apologetic (to say the least). His mind was completely blank as he watched the woman he thought he’d saved shatter in front of him.

He’d never seen her cry like this – he’s not sure anyone had.

She didn’t cry, not really, unless she was angry. Passionate.

Hadn’t seen her cry in a while, though. Couldn’t remember the last time she did, it’d been so long. He was to blame for most reasons she spilled tears.

And this time it was because of him. Again.

“Please let us try to help you,” Nate said, finally, somehow the bravest in the group, crouching down until he was on a knee, nearly eye level with her hunched form.

“There’s nothing we can do to undo your turning, but we can make you comfortable. It’s a little bit of an adjustment, but we can coach you –”

“A little bit?” She shook her head, wiping the back of her hand across her cheeks.

Her head tilted up to survey the room again, her expression pained. “Why didn’t you just let me die?”

He stepped forward impulsively, jaw clenched. “Don’t say that.”

“You knew I didn’t want this – all of you knew I didn’t want this. Why did you let him change me?”

Change. But she was the same old Sofía.

“He’d already sunk his teeth in your neck by the time we noticed him move. We couldn’t stop him in time,” Adam said from the corner, brows furrowed, clearly uncomfortable.

Rebecca and Felix remained silent, clearly the most affected.

“I need all of you to get out.”

“We cannot do that, detective. There’s much we need to talk over –” Adam started, but she cut him off with a yell.

“If you don’t get the fuck out of this room right now, I’ll make you get out. Rebecca, that includes you. Get out. Now.”

The collective shock followed them out into the hallway as they straggled out of the room.

“Not you, Mason. Stay.”

The tone of her voice was enough to rattle him.

As soon as Felix closed the door behind him (after giving a worried glance back at Mason), she was pushing herself off of the bed. She struggled to stand upright like she was relearning how to walk again on new legs.

When she stood at her full height, she appeared to be tormented by the revelation.

She’d become taller than Felix and only an inch or two shorter than Mason. Her limbs were gangly, her body type completely different. 

More tears fell, more sobs came, and with each cry he couldn’t help but feel himself cracking too.

“I did what I thought was right.”

“Did you? Did you really?” 

“You were dying right in front of me. I couldn’t let you go, not like that –”

“Have you always intended on changing me? Do you care that little about me and what I want? Are you that selfish?”–

Fear – he was engulfed in it. The repressed storm – the one he’d always stood at the eye of –  shifted, and he was engulfed in the monstrous waves, colliding with his worst fears at the same time he realized what they were.

He was going to lose her. And it was his fault.

He gritted his teeth, trying to come up with some kind of justification that didn’t sound selfish.

She spoke before he could collect his thoughts.

“My body is… different. It doesn’t even feel like mine anymore,” she whispered, plopping back onto the edge of the bed, head hung low.

“You’re still a detective. You’re still you. Nothing else around you’s changed,” he said.

He hoped that restating facts would be some kind of replacement for whatever jumbled mess was going on inside of his mind.

“No. I was supposed to decide who I’m going to be and you made the decision for me.”

His whole body stiffened, glued in place at the vitriol dripping from her words.

“You made my choice for me. I didn’t want this,” she repeated, shaking her head, hugging her arms around herself.

“You don’t have to be a detective –”

“Can you not just say you’re sorry? Is that really not in your vocabulary?” She asked, making a sound that sounded almost like a laugh, but not quite. “Have you seriously gone a hundred years without apologizing to anyone?”

She wasn’t exactly wrong.

Admitting fault was a weak point of his. Truth be told it cut his pride deep to say “I was wrong,” because he always had some kind of justification.

He was painfully stubborn. That didn’t bother him too much – not until those rare moments (like that one) where no matter how much he knew the other person was in pain, it was exceedingly difficult to form those three words and push them past his teeth.

The one time his impulse doesn’t kick in, and it’s when he should be desperately apologizing and groveling and begging on his hands and knees for forgiveness.

He’d thought for the longest time that a hundred years of an immortal lifestyle had wiped away all traces of his humanity, but it lingered.

Maybe that’s why she was a breath of fresh air – she was drawing those irrefutable human emotions that he didn’t believe himself to have anymore and tugged them to the surface.

She wasn’t a breath of fresh air – she was air. He’d been drowning for so fucking long, unchallenged, unchanging, and she came along like an otherworldly presence that wholly stilled his water.

God, was she his moon?

Did she hold that much power over his waves?

This revelation couldn’t have come at a worse time, as she continued despite his silence.

“I wasn’t supposed to come back here… now I’m trapped. I can never get out.

“I was supposed to be a doctor. I was supposed to be someone.”

The arguments he thought he’d spit out dissolved, as whatever he said next had to mean something. It couldn’t undo the damage, but it might could quell a sliver of her pain.

“You’re someone to me.”

She sank her teeth into her wobbling lip, no doubtedly harder than she intended, blood dotting the pink skin.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you for this,” Sofía murmured, voice surprisingly steady with her usual resolve, despite not being able to meet his eye as she said it. “Please go.”

And just like that, he was engulfed again.

He’d been nearly disowned by his teammates and prosecuted by his former boss, his entire immortal life in shambles, but he didn’t fucking care.

The only thing that mattered to him was whether or not she was going to speak to him again.

He squeezed his hands into tight fists again, trying not to think about what she’d said to him after she’d turned – she was understanding. She was kind. She was forgiving.

She was Sofía.

He’d robbed her of her humanity, sure, but he could’ve never taken away what made her Sofía. No one could do that.

“Hey, Mason. We’re having a meeting in thirty minutes,” Nate had said, sympathy written on his features like Mason was a tragedy and he’d already read the ending.

He thought if he waited long enough he could catch her and say what they both needed to hear: I’m sorry.

When the door finally opened (a minute before the meeting started), she stepped out, bookbag slung over her shoulder, not sparing him a second glance.

He stumbled after her, exhausted still.

He found himself hesitating to speak first, worried he was going to say the wrong thing, and nervous that she wouldn’t hear him out.

She was vastly more intimidating after her turning than she was before – her body had rearranged itself to be more predator-like. Of course he was scared.

But he didn’t fear her.

Her long legged stride was less determined than usual. Her posture was worse, like she was trying to hide. Her presence didn’t hold the confidence she used to have.

It was getting harder and harder to find what made her her.

But he still didn’t fear her.

As soon as they were settled in for the meeting (him perched against the seat she used to sit, her standing on the opposite side of the room), Rebecca commanded the meeting, demanding silence with nothing but a look.

“This will be our last formal meeting in Wayhaven, as we’ve all received new assignments.”

Mason’s chest twinged, his grip on the arm of the chair tightening until the fabric tore. No one else appeared as surprised as he was.

“Agent Du Mortain, Agent Sewell, and Agent Hauville, we’ll be relocating for the time being on a minor assignment while the Agency finds us something longer term,” she continued, surveying the room, not sparing Mason a glance.

“Sofía will not be joining us.”

The statement hung in the air like a thick fog. 

“I’ve received special clearance for the time being. The Agency is giving me time to sort through my feelings before I decide whether or not I want to continue working for them,” she said, nodding towards her mother, both of them smiling ever so slightly.

When had they gotten so close?

“That’s awesome, Sofía,” Felix grinned, seemingly happy for the first time in weeks. “I can’t wait to visit you and have a sleepover for old times’ sake.”

She didn’t answer, her eyebrows furrowed instead like she was trying to break the news to him gently.

“I’m afraid this is the last time we’re going to see Sofía, Felix,” Nate murmured, reaching out to pat his bat cautiously.

“Ever?” His voice broke with the second syllable. 

She dropped her bag and strode across the room, wrapping Felix in a tight hug. When she pulled back, her eyes were watering, too.

“I can’t come back here. Even if I choose this existence and I work for the Agency, they’ll never let me set foot back in this town, and… I don’t think I’d want to, either.”

“She’s right. I’m sure she will have to wait until the townsfolk die off until she can come back,” Adam nodded sympathetically despite his bluntness.

They were talking about her future – she was, too – without including Mason in it. Like she’d already made up her mind and everyone in the room knew but him. 

No, he didn’t fear her. He feared life without her.

“Sofía,” he said, finally, voice low, ignoring the boring gazes of Adam and Rebecca.

She met his eyes, and for a split second he was relieved – her eyes were soft, forgiving, human, like the old Sofía.

It didn’t console him for long, though. She wasn’t looking at him the way she used to. She’d forgiven him, sure, but it was more than just that.

She looked at him like she’d moved on, her forgiveness magnanimous in nature, like she’d put it behind her – put him behind her.

Rebecca’s voice snapped him out of it, her tone biting. “Mason, you’ve been ordered to stay behind and stand trial. For the time being, you’ve been stripped of your title. If you’re granted amnesty, your Agent title will be restored, but for now, you’re to be taken into custody and prosecuted as a rogue. If you try to run, lethal force will be used without hesitation.”

Adam’s heavy hand on his shoulder made the situation much more realistic.

He really was losing everything. It wasn’t some horrific nightmare that he could shake himself out of.

The cuffs Nate clicked into place weren’t too tight (he made sure of it).

He couldn’t do a thing but watch Sofía say her tearful goodbyes to everyone.

She cried with both her mother and Felix, but pulled it together for Nate, snuggling her face into his chest. She even managed to get a hug out of Adam, despite his awkwardness.

When she made it to Mason, she tugged his shackled hands upward, slipping underneath his arms, tucking her nose under his chin.

He was stunned, the lump in his throat aching with regret.

He gripped her tighter, burying his nose into her hair. He knew exactly how she smelled, how she felt, how she tasted, but he was committing it to memory since it was the last time.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, arms trembling.

“I didn’t want the Agency to press charges. I tried stopping it. I’m sorry,” she whispered back, hands rubbing at his back in soothing circles.

“If I could take it all back, I would. I’m sorry,” he said again and again, trying to pour all of himself into her to show that he knew he was wrong.

“Maybe in another life.”

And then she was gone. And they were gone.

And he was still there. Still afraid.

[closedafterdark]

Can you write about a scenario where Olivia Hye is performing a morning blowjob?

“That was… amazing.” Son Hyejoo said, panting heavily.

“I always forget how tight you are.” you replied, squeezing her breast softly.

Hyejoo inched forward and kissed your lips gently. Her hands rested on your chest as you wrapped an arm around her body and pulled her closer to you.

“You know Heejin will kill you when she finds out you didn’t go home after game night.” you said after parting your lips from Hyejoo’s.

“Oh well, it was worth it. You always fuck me so well.” she said, kissing you again.

Your right hand moved from her face down to her bottom, squeezing it gently. She smiled through the kisses, giggling as she looked at you lovingly.

“Oppa, you’re always so horny.”

“Can you blame me? You showed up to my place in extremely short shorts and a tank top with no bra. It’s like you wanted me to sleep with you.”

“Oh no, you caught me.” she teased, pretending to be surprised.

“Oppa?”

“Hmm?”

“You know what I really love about you?” Hyejoo asked.

“How I’m always willing to have sex with you?”

“Oppa, I’m serious!” she laughed, hitting your chest playfully.

“What is it?” you asked, peppering her with kisses.

“You always know how to make the girls feel comforted and loved. Heejin unnie is your girlfriend, but you always take care of the rest of us. I’m jealous of her, sometimes I wish you were my boyfriend only.”

You pinched Hyejoo’s cheeks softly and smiled.

“I care about you girls. Yeah Heejin’s my girlfriend, but through her I got to know some pretty awesome people in you all.” you said, planting a kiss on her forehead softly.

“Oppa?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you stay?”

“Stay where?”

“Here. In bed, with me. Just like this.” she said, hugging you tightly.

“Forever.”

“You know we can’t stay like this forever, Hyejoo.” you teased, softly poking her nose.

“But sure, I love cuddling with you.”

“Thank you, oppa.” Hyejoo softly said as she closed her eyes.

Both of you held onto each other tightly, still naked under the covers as you listened to the sound of her soft breaths. Heejin couldn’t spend the night as she had work early the next morning, otherwise she’d be the one you were cuddling at the moment. It was a minor problem though, besides the fact that you loved Hyejoo’s body, you were the closest to her out of Heejin’s friends. After she let you take Yerim’s first time away, Heejin had no problems letting the others use you as a booty call whenever they needed it. But a part of you worried. Was Heejin truly okay with it? You were truly in love with her, and she felt the same about you. A million thoughts played out in your mind as you felt Hyejoo snuggle closer to you. You kissed the top of her head softly before closing your eyes and joining her in deep sleep.

You woke up the next morning and felt Hyejoo’s side of the bed empty. Tapping on the bed sheets, you look around and see no trace of her or her clothes you roughly tore off the night before. Feeling something heavy on top of you, you removed the covers and found Hyejoo grinding her crotch on your lap.

“Hyejoo?” you asked, still half asleep and rubbing your eyes. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she teased, smiling sweetly at you. “Your cock was poking my thighs while we were sleeping.”

She leaned down and planted soft, tender kisses on your chest. You laughed, Hyejoo loved starting the day off with sex.

You looked at the clock on the wall. It has barely become 8:00 AM.

“Hyejoo, we have to be quick. I have a date with Heejin later.”

Hyejoo pouted, moving her body down until her face was lined up with your dick. She pouted before slapping her face with your cock repeatedly.

“But I wanted to spend the day draining your balls.”

“Was last night not enough?”

“Was it enough for you?”

“Touche. But I really do have to get ready for my date soon.”

“Fine. But why don’t I start off with a delicious breakfast in bed?” she asked, wrapping her slender fingers around your cock and stroking you up and down slowly with a subtle pressure. You moaned as Hyejoo saw your precum dribbling out and sticking onto her fingers.

Hyejoo’s eyes were glued to your cock. She puckered her full lips and began planting soft kisses across your entire shaft. She made sure to add long, aggressive licks from your balls to tip as you felt yourself being covered in her saliva. The sensation was satisfying, starting your day off with a beautiful woman relieving your morning wood.

Her gaze was pure seduction as she refused to break eye contact with you. Hyejoo loved teasing you, using her lips and tongue to play with your needy cock before taking it in her mouth. She saw your facial expressions and giggled, knowing you wanted her to take you already. With one final kiss on your tip, Hyejoo parted her lips with your cock and took you inside the comfort of her warm and inviting mouth.

“Hyejoo… that feels so good.”

Your moans escaped your lips as you felt the softness of her full lips glide up and down your cock. Hyejoo was having fun, sucking just your tip. She hollowed out her cheeks, her tongue running across the underside of your shaft. She has taken you inside her mouth enough times for you to know this initial foreplay will be worth it when she finally begins sucking your cock.

“Hyejoo, please keep going.”

“Yes, sir.” she said, giggling.

Hyejoo normally enjoyed you using her mouth as an outlet to release pent up stress, but she also loved dictating the pace of the blowjob. It allowed you to observe all of the techniques she used and how different it was from Heejin’s. Hyejoo’s lips were much fuller, which were perfect for sucking cock. She earned a reputation around the girls of being a cumslut since she loved showing photos and videos of her giving head to any guy she batted her eyelashes at. Her hand jerked your cock painfully slow as you enjoyed the feeling of her warm mouth and tongue on your shaft.

Son Hyejoo gave you a blowjob the first time you two met. Heejin introduced you to her friends one at a time, with Hyejoo being the first. As Heejin was busy in the kitchen making lunch for the three of you, Hyejoo saw her opportunity as she dragged you to the bathroom and got on her knees. Despite your protests, she told you to do your best to be quiet as she yanked off your jeans and took you in her mouth. You weren’t that experienced with women, Heejin being your first. Naturally, it didn’t take you long until you cummed inside her mouth. She looked up at you and smiled, swallowing your cum and sticking her tongue out to show nothing was left. She kissed the tip of your cock and made sure to exit the bathroom first.

The feeling of her lips on your cock sent waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body as you watched her long, black hair bob up and down between your legs. She loved sucking your cock, making sure to use her full lips to take you all the way to your base. Any semblance of a gag complex was not there as you entered and exited her tight, wet mouth. That combined with Hyejoo’s naturally seductive eyes made for a wonderful start to the day.

You held onto Hyejoo’s head and guided her rhythms as she smiled at you through a mouthful of cock. She sucked you from base to tip until she released you from her mouth with a loud and wet pop. Hyejoo giggled as your cock glistened through the sunlight coming from the window. Tilting her head slightly, her nose brushed against your base as her tongue painted strips of saliva on your balls.

“Fuck, Hyejoo…”

Hyejoo teased you by blowing hot breath on your balls, puckering her lips as she planted sloppy kisses on each of them individually. Your moans and pleas for more motivated Hyejoo to pleasure you as much as she could. Planting more tender kisses, Hyejoo smiled before tenderly sucking on your balls. Another groan escaped your lips as you felt her wonderful warm mouth take one inside like a vacuum. Her hands rested on your thighs as your cock plopped onto her forehead. Hyejoo loved giving you sloppy blowjobs just as much as you loved receiving them. The feeling of her saliva dripping onto the bed sheets or floor turned you on. Hyejoo made sure to give equal attention to your balls, but you subtly noticed that she loved sucking your left ball more. She was harsh in her ways, sometimes you were afraid she might rip them off from how aggressive she was being. Heejin preferred only sucking your cock, and while you didn’t mind, sleeping with Hyejoo always meant your cock and balls were both going to be satisfied. She took both balls into her mouth fully at the same time before releasing them with a pop louder than when she released your cock. She always took this as practice, always wanting to improve her techniques. It seemed she was satisfied this time, smiling at the performance she just gave you. The look on your face further supported the notion that she did a good job.

As Hyejoo planted kisses on your thighs and abdomen, you felt a bit sad her mouth left your lower body before she straddled your stomach and began softly rubbing her crotch back and forth.

“Oppa?” Hyejoo traced a finger on your chest.

“Yes?”

“What did we talk about last night before you came in me?” she asked, pretending to be confused on what she said.

“I think you know what you said, Son Hyejoo.” you teased, placing your hands on her milky soft skin and wide hips.

“Let’s see…” she said, pretending to think hard. “It may have gone something like… ride oppa so hard he can’t walk?”

“That sounds like something we would say.” you said, your hands now softly squeezing her butt.

Hyejoo bit her lower lip as you pushed her body down towards your cock. Feeling it poke her butt, she giggled before standing up slightly. She reached below and carefully guided you in. As you slowly sank into her, you felt her warm and tight walls wrap themselves around your shaft. She was extremely wet, allowing you easy access inside her as her pussy swallowed your cock whole.

“Oh fuck… oppa.”

Hyejoo let out a loud satisfied exhale as her eyes shut and her hands firmly planted themselves on your chest.

“Oppa… please.”

Hyejoo tossed her hair back as your hands remained firmly planted on her ass. She started off slow, wanting to establish a rhythm before she began violently riding you. She moved her body up and down your cock, her screams filling the room as she fucked you while you slapped both of her round ass cheeks. The sounds of your skin clapping each other was satisfying to your ears. She would switch up the pace occasionally, relishing in grinding slowly and sensually on your cock.

“I want you, oppa.” she said, rubbing her thumb across your cheek.

“You have me, right now.” you said.

“Don’t stop, okay?” She pleaded. “Fuck me like this whenever I want.”

You slowly exited Hyejoo’s pussy and placed her gently on the bed. Now behind her, you spread her legs apart before pushing your cock back inside her.

“Yes…” Hyejoo said, her eyes closing. “Harder…”

You gathered her hair together and held onto it with both hands.

“Yes, just like tha-”

Her walls squeezed your cock as you watched her full breasts jiggle as you fucked her hard like she wanted. Her hands gripped onto the bed sheets as she felt you thrusting into her, her mouth slightly open.

“Fuck me, oppa.” she cried out. “I’m also yours.”

Hyejoo was always so wet when you fucked her, her juices leaking out of her pussy and onto your thighs and the bed as you buried your cock deep inside her, feeling every inch be wrapped by her walls.

Just then, your phone began to ring notifying you of incoming messages.

“Hyejoo, my phon-”

“No!” she screamed. “Keep fucking me!”

You continued to pump Hyejoo as fast and hard as you could, your body shaking as the bed began to creak from how fast you were fucking her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she screamed. “Harder! Fuck me until I can’t walk!”

As you placed both hands on Hyejoo’s hips and roughly pounded her, she was your only thought in the moment. After going several more rounds including an extremely long shower, you were going to get ready for your date with Heejin when you finally checked your phone.

Jeon Heejin♡ 26 missed calls

Jeon Heejin♡  [08:45 AM]: Oppa, goodmorning! ♡ Last night with the girls was fun, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay over!

Jeon Heejin♡ [08:46 AM]: Did Hyejoo get home safe? I know she wanted to talk to you about something.

Jeon Heejin♡ [09:00 AM]: I can’t wait for our date today, oppa. There’s a new cafe I wanted to visit!

Jeon Heejin♡ [09:20 AM]: Oppa! Sooyoung unnie told me Hyejoo didn’t go home! Is she with you? Are you fucking her?

Jeon Heejin♡ [10:46 AM]: OPPA, I KNOW YOU’RE STILL FUCKING HYEJOO. YOU BOTH ARE DEAD WHEN I COME OVER.

[lunahoneydrop]

Guys...

Calm down for a little.

I didn't want to comment on the new leaks before the official release date but I feel the need too, so bear with me. 🤣

First of all, what makes you so sure that all these scenes are happening after Mikasa's last scene in the og ending? Listen, all these info are quite suspicious. Why would Isayama alter the ending this much? Especially the titan powers reappering again? It would mean all the efforts made no sense. All the deaths were for nothing. Would it be a satisfying ending? Definitely not.

My theory is all these scenes are Eren, Armin and Mikasa's visions. In Eren's imagination Jean is the person who marries Mikasa because Eren wanted the best for her and he was well aware of Jean's crush on Mikasa. Eren also wished her to never forget him which happens as Mikasa's wearing the scarf even in her deathbed. That's what Eren was hoping for. The worst case scenario is that Paradis gets destroyed anyway. Wasn't it already claimed to be Eren's vision though? Another worst possibility is the titan powers appearing again. That was Eren's worst fear in my honest opinion.

Seemingly Mikasa talking with Ymir is canon too. The worst scenario for her is if it turns out her love for Eren wasn't strong enough (this leak might be fake so I take this with a grain of salt). Anyway this scenario definitely happened before or right after Mikasa cut Eren's head.

And finally, we have discussed thoughts about the possible Armin and Annie separation on Discord. Remember, Eren talked to Armin in PATHS before Armin confessed to Annie, thus the supposed separation appeared in front of Armin showing what would've been his and Annie's fate if he hadn't confessed his feelings or some other circumstances occured. Luckily he did confess, so that they're seen together in their final panel with Annie giving him the LOOK lmao. If it wasn't the case what would an Aruani break up add to the ending?

Not to mention Kasumi's tweets on Twitter, who said the overall ending won't be different than the original one. Which means these scenes are not supposed to change the ending. The titan powers reappearence is too much a change which is not in line with Kasumi's words.

So let's wait for the full chapter as we don't know THE CONTEXTS OF THE PAGES YET.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.14 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Hey, Stretch might hate to see Edge leaving, but he sure does love to watch him walk away.

~~*~~

Read ‘All In The Jeans’ on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch let Edge lead him outside, towards the winding front walkway. But instead of heading down the stone path to where Stretch’s bike was sitting there like a steampunk nightmare invading their gingerbread fairytale, he drew Stretch down to sit on the front steps of the porch. The bricks were soothingly cool beneath him in the waning heat of the day and Edge sat next to him, his knee bumping lightly against Stretch’s.

“You don’t have to rush off just yet,” Edge told him quietly. “There’s still some time before sunset.” He still had a hold on Stretch’s hand and a bony thumb rubbed gently across the backs of his knuckles. “But you looked like you needed some air.”

“yeah,” Stretch agreed, numbly. He stared down at yard in front of him, the riotously colorful flowerbeds amidst rocky outcroppings that led their way up the little hill to the house. It was a little cooler here in the woods out of the stark sun overhead in town, closer to another season than summer or so it felt to him. It was all so inviting, welcoming, and his first thought upon seeing it that this was a trap of some sort seemed a little insulting now that he’d been fed and released. He’d eaten Red’s food, hell, moved right into his home without a qualm, and a well-kept cabin in the woods was where he drew the line?

But then, it wasn’t the house where the real problems lay, was it, it was the people living in it.

Monsters and a Human from another multiverse, again, and not just any Monsters, but another set of mirror images here in the Aboveground. He’d been worried about a Stephen King effect around this place and it turned out he should’ve been more concerned with Isaac Asimov, ‘cause the shift from gothic horror to sci-fi was not one he’d been braced for, with a ‘little invasion of the body snatchers’ vibe tossed in for extra flavor.

Only, that wasn’t fair, was it. Doppelgängers, Edge had mentioned earlier almost like it was a joke, but it was true, just like Sans and Papyrus were and he’d adjusted to them okay. It hadn’t been easy hanging out with someone who wore his brother’s face, but he’d adjusted. And despite the somewhat otherworldly location, these guys had been nothing but kind to Stretch, kinder than the Humans who’d greeted them when they’d popped out from the mountain, for sure.

Hell, Red took him in like a mama dog adopting a stray kitten. The glossy veneer of Stretch’s knowledge-dump panic was cracking and with it his weird sense of numbness, the void it left behind filling with dawning horror.

They were the only three who got out, Frisk said, they’d lost everything and everyone, and fled all the way here, and Stretch was the one about to have a panic attack about it. Exactly what kind of asshole was he trying to be here?

When Sans and Papyrus showed up under similar circumstances, he and Blue opened their lives and homes to them, all tea and sympathy. Well, mostly the tea was from Blue, but still. He was out here in Backwater crying in his soup over a breakup and he couldn’t even dredge up some compassion for versions 2.0?

“i’m sorry,” Stretch blurted thoughtlessly. He turned his hand in Edge’s, shifting to grip his slender fingers tightly. Bare bones against bare bones, weirdly intimate for all that they were only holding hands. He didn’t think he’d ever touched another skeleton like this except his own brother, back when he was little and Stretch was still trying to keep him from running off after every other damn shiny thing he ever saw.

Holding Edge’s hand was a lot different than trying to hang on to his squirmy wormy little brother. Edge only held on just as tight, his brow bone furrowing. “You don’t need to apologize, it’s a lot to take in. You’re honestly taking this all much better than I expected. Theorizing about a multiverse is a great deal different than being confronted with living specimens.”

“no, not that. i get that. i mean—i’m sorry.” Stretch waved his free hand around them vaguely, trying to indicate the entire world with one helpless gesture, “for everything. it must’ve been rough.”

Yeah, nice to see that Stretch’s gift for understatement hadn’t been affected by his personal traumas. Rough was a really great way of describing being the only survivors of their entire world. Next, he’d describe water as slightly damp, maybe fire could be ‘a little burny’.

Edge’s expression cleared, a certain tightness forming around his sockets. “Ah.” He looked away, eye lights rising to the sky where scattered pools of blue showed through the leafy branches. His eye lights were the orangey-red glow of a banked campfire, the crack running through his left socket lent him a sort of strangely thoughtful look. “It’s all right, it was a long time ago for us.”

“about ten years, right?” Stretch winced inwardly, yeah, sure, keep on talking about his painful past, that was a great payback for a yummy dinner. “i mean, that’s what i got from the book you gave me.”

“Yes,” Edge agreed. He didn’t seem to mind talking about it, maybe time really did pad on the emotional distance; Stretch’d have to check back on his own history in a couple years, give his memories a poke and see what bruises came back. “A third of my lifetime.”

Huh. If the math was right, that actually put Edge as a little older than him, who would’ve thunk it, the little brother mythos tipped on its axis, just for him.

Edge slanted a considering glance his way. “We knew other Monsters came to the surface. I kept tabs on the news from the world outside Backwater, just in case—” he hesitated and whatever awful scenario he was thinking about got lost in a shrug. “Well. Just in case. We saw you and your brother on the news with the other Human, and realized you were from a different Underground. They referred to you as Papyrus and Sans then and before you ask, we’d already changed our names before you came to the surface. When we came to this town, actually, and if you ask me why, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. Sometimes in Backwater, certain things simply make sense. One day, everyone started calling me Edge and that’s who I’ve been since.”

He stretched his long legs out in front of him, his slim, bare feet next to Stretch’s grubby sneakers. Edge’d changed out of his grimy gardening clothes before dinner into a fresh t-shirt, still only plain black but the way it clung to his ribcage and along the line of his broad shoulders was worth a second look. His jeans, too, and Stretch was hyper aware of his own baggie shorts and t-shirt that declared he was the taco king of Minnesota, of the differences between them.

“so you already knew about me,” Stretch said, “i mean, before i got here.” There was an unfair advantage if he’d ever heard one.

“In the abstract, yes,” Edge shrugged. “It didn’t seem very important until you showed up in my brother’s living room and tried to hit me with a lamp.”

Fair. Stretch looked back at their feet, at the visibly healed cracks in Edge’s metatarsals, nothing at all like his own undamaged bones. He understood the multiverse theory, wasn’t exactly that complicated. In theory, he and Edge were different version of the same person, each another facet to a complex jewel; that was the theory, anyway. After hanging out with Sans and Papyrus, Stretch had a few theories of his own and the most important one was one he wanted to be sure Edge understood.

“you aren’t really me, you know that, right? not me me.” It seemed important to him that Edge knew that or maybe Stretch had it backwards, maybe it should be that he wasn’t Edge, since Edge was here first by several years. He sort of had dibs, didn’t he.

For some reason, that statement made one corner of Edge’s mouth curled up in a smirk. “That seems rather obvious,” Edge said dryly. “For one, as fascinating as you seem to find my jeans, you wouldn’t fit in them very well.”

“no!” Stretch sputtered, holy shit, abort, abort, do not look at his hips right now, do not do it, “i mean in the context of the multiverse! like how chara and frisk are alike, right? they look alike, but believe you me, chara ain’t like frisk. you and me, we might’ve had the same names once, but we aren’t the same, not really.”

“Chara and Frisk have some ten years of distance between their ages that might account for that,” Edge pointed out, “but I’m no scientist, not even on the weekends. It isn’t me you should be discussing this with.”

Then who…? “i’ve got some data to back it up, i’ve met someone else from another multiverse, you know. two someones, other versions of…well…us.”

Well, now, looked like it was Edge’s turn for a shock, how about that, nice to see it on someone else’s face for a change. “You have?”

“yeah. another set of Sans-and-Papyrus skeleton brothers ended up with us before we ever got the surface. they wanted to stay out of the news and the queen let ‘em.” Stretch shrugged, “i don’t know all their story, they don’t like to talk about it. but it’s been a couple years since they showed up and we definitely aren’t very similar past being skeletons and having brothers.” For one, Blue might not cook as well as Edge, but at least his spaghetti never landed anyone in the hospital with acute food poisoning like some other skeletons who would not be named coughpapyruscough.

But Edge didn’t seem interested in another set of skeleton brothers to add to the collection, not even in the interest of making a full six-pack. He’d shifted to his knees and faced Stretch, his sockets wide, “There’s another Human that fell, then? Into their Underground?” Edge asked, urgently.

“probably, but not that came with them,” Stretch shook his head, “i. uh. i get the feeling their story is a little like yours, only more so and a lot more recent.”

That urgency faded. “Ah.” Edge settled back to sit on the step again. “I see.”

Stretch didn’t ask why Edge was so interested in there being another Human kid, that was a surefire way to wander off the path, but he made a mental note about it. “what i’m getting at is, you knew who i was when you first saw me. what i was.”

“I’m hardly going to mistake the framework of my own face.”

Yeah, see, that was another mark in the column of the differences between the ‘verses not simply being nature vs nurture, but them being different people entirely despite the whole names-and-also-skeleton thing, ‘cause Stretch had been looking at his own face in the mirror for a long damn time and he didn’t look like Edge, fuck no, he’d be the first person to know if he was that gorgeous.

Probably better not to bring that up. “and you guys have been here on the surface for ten years now, taking care of the town, and you never tried to contact anyone?”

Edge only shrugged. “What was the point? It isn’t as if we actually knew any of you. I expected that more Monsters would find us eventually and you did.”

“yeah, by accident.”

Edge slanted him another look, coolly raising a browbone, “You’ve been in Backwater a little while now. Do you truly believe you’re here completely by accident?”

Yeah, okay, that was a pretty good point. “but if you were expecting other monsters to show up eventually, then why didn’t you want me to stay?”

“Maybe because my brother was very quick to adopt a person who is wearing something like my face?” That stung and Stretch looked away, his fingers going helplessly stiff in their shared grip. “Or maybe because the longer you stay, the less likely you’ll be able to leave,” Edge sighed. “That’s how Backwater is.”

“wait.” Hold on, back that up. “you can’t leave?”

“I didn’t say that.” Yeah, and that was a backpedal if Stretch ever heard one. “Frisk has willingly tied their life to this town, and I’m sworn to protect them. I can hardly do that from another city.”

“but nothing is physically stopping you from leaving.” Because if the corn was gonna sprout little legs and come after him if he drank the water here too long, that would be important information to have.

“Where would I go?” Edge countered. “Back to Ebott? Unlike my brother and I, you have ties there. We do not and I’ve very little interest in revisiting the mountain ten years away from it. I have everything I’ve ever needed right here and as for wants, I’ve long since accepted the truth.”

There was a certain bitterness there and Stretch should let it go, he’d already poked that wound enough. He should, but he still ended up asking, softly, “what truth?”

“That sometimes people don’t get what’s coming to them.” The words were so loaded that Stretch winced and hunched down, almost expecting to hear a gunshot. Instead, Edge sighed, let his anger go on an exhaled breath and he sounded calmer as he asked, “Now you’ve heard my secrets. What about you?”

“me?” Stretch snorted. He kept his gaze on the flowerbeds, tracing the flat round stones of the path, and did not meet Edge’s crimson gaze. “heh, you guys are determined to ferret something out, aren’t you. i keep telling you, i don’t have any secrets. my boyfriend dumped me, and it brought me down, couldn’t get past it, so i left town. ended up here…i should be writing this down, it’s like the start of a country song. shame i don’t have a truck.”

“You’d look terrible in a cowboy hat. And your soul?” Edge asked, gentle but implacable.

“that’s not a secret,” Stretch muttered, “i just don’t want to talk about it.” He’d talked about it plenty back in Ebott, for all the good it did him, and he’d hoped to leave those chats behind when he got on the bus.

“Fair enough,” Edge tugged on his hand suddenly, pulling Stretch to his feet, “Come on.”

He barely gave Stretch a minute to catch his balance before he started to run, heedless of his bare feet as Stretch stumbling on after him. His brief, absurd surge of fear that they were, ‘oh, fuck, running from something,’ faded as Edge laughed aloud, pulling him past trees and through flowerbeds, around the corner of the house into the backyard again. Off to the side of the garden beneath a large tree was a massive pile of fallen leaves in a messy sprawl of browns and golds, and Stretch only realized what Edge intended when it was too late to stop him, barely stuttering out a “wait--!” before he leapt and yanked Stretch along with him.

They landed together in a cacophony of brittle crunching and the blinding, whispering surge of leaves launching into the air. Stretch sputtered and flailed, wallowing in the pile that was somehow soft and weirdly crisp at the same time, billowing around him as he floundered.

Somehow, he managed to find out which way was upright again and burst out on the surface, swimming through leaves, and through the madness, he could hear Edge laughing, that deep, rich voice sharing out happiness. For the first time in what felt like an endless dry spell, his soul felt like it was full, joy pouring into it, filling up the empty space in his chest.

“you’re crazy,” Stretch laughed, spitting out a leaf, and watched as Edge flopped back in the leaves, arms and legs moving and sending up another wild swirl of crunchy browns and golds.

“Perhaps,” Edge called, raising his voice over the cronch. “But I made you smile.”

“the technique could use work, but i can’t argue with the results.” He looked up and for the first time, Stretch noticed that not all the trees here were loaded with green. His grin slowly faded. “the leaves are falling.”

“Yes,” Edge’s smile eased down, understanding dawning, and he shuffled through the leaves to Stretch, reaching for him, “It’s a late summer heat right now, but yes. The corn is ripe, autumn is coming and soon.”

Autumn was coming, too fast, and there was nothing Stretch could do to stop it, but that didn’t mean he had to let it go. He was a little sick of letting things just happen around him and Backwater was getting him into the habit of doing something about it. “i want to see edgar allen again. you think if i went back to the field, the corn would give me a pass?”

“I think that a visit can be arranged without that being an issue.” Between the two of them, they managed to wade out of the pile onto solid ground, both of them shedding leaves as Edge headed back into the garden. He skirted the wall of sunflowers, leading Stretch deeper into the rows. Right into a small patch of corn, the tips of the leaves already yellowed and curling.

Stretch stopped abruptly, his sneakers sinking into the soft soil as he stared, “is that…?” In the middle of the little field there was a scarecrow hanging from a crossbar. It looked exactly like Edgar Allen, from the greasepaint face down to the plaid shirt, only now, there was a scarf looped around his neck, the very same one Stretch left in offering.

“It is,” Edge agreed softly. “He is every scarecrow. They awaken when needed or summoned.” He gave Stretch a nudge, hard enough for him to stumble forward a step deeper into the field. “Talk to him. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Talk to him. Right. Stretch swallowed hard, trying to shuffle aside his sudden misgivings. His voice creaked like a rusty hinge as he managed a weak, “edgar?

Then he watched, fascinated. He could nearly see the life filling those limp limbs, the burlap sack of his head lifting as he raised it, and he knew the exact moment Edgar caught sight of Stretch in front of him.

“Well, hey pal! Good ta see ya!” That croaky voice was the same as Stretch remembered and he smiled helplessly, watching Edgar unwind an arm from the bar that held him up to touch the bandana around his neck, “Wanted ta thank ya for the new gear!”

“it looks good on you,” Stretch managed. The turkey-red fabric was bright against the faded plaid of his shirt and Stretch wondered how long it would take for the sun to bleach it out. Would there even be time before Edgar…ended? Did his clothes vanish with him or was he left out in the field to rot after his seasonal duty? He didn’t know and found he didn’t want to ask. For fuck’s sake, Stretch barely even knew the guy, if he was a guy, and still his soul heavy with sorrow.

“Corn thought so, too,” Edgar Allen said gleefully. “Nattered on ‘bout it for hours. Kept me awake for an age, I tell ya.” For all that his face never changed from that greasepaint sneer, Stretch could almost feel the sudden surge of sleepiness rising in the air, the way Edgar took hold of his support again, and slumped back down, “Still restin’ up from it. Thanks, again. See ya around, pal, give me a call if ya need me?”

“i will,” Stretch said and as he watched, that animation faded, life seeping away and leaving behind a nothing but straw-filled bundle of clothes.

A gentle hand settled on his shoulder and Stretch turned to look at Edge, trying to swallow down the thickness of absurd grief in his throat. He’d met Edgar Allen for a total of ten minutes, tops, and it still hurt.

“It’s difficult for him to stay awake when he isn’t needed,” Edge told him softly.

“yeah,” Stretch managed, blinking hard, his sockets aching. “he’ll be dying in a few weeks.”

“Yes, for the season,” Edge agreed, “It’s not really a death, but it is something like it.”

“that sucks, big time.” He understood it, sure, the whole ghost of gyftmas present sort of visit. Didn’t make it suck any less.

“He’s earned his rest and his spirit will return. Perhaps in the spring you can came back to Backwater and meet his recreation.” Edge held out a hand and after swiping angrily at his sockets, Stretch took it, folding their fingers together again. “Come on, it’s starting to get dark.”

It was, Stretch saw dismally, the sunlight creeping through the trees faded and soft with oncoming dusk. He’d already been here a helluva lot longer than he’d meant and it might be an interesting trip back to Red’s if he didn’t hurry; he’d be wandering off the path simply because he couldn’t see the damn thing and he really didn’t feel up to testing the monster bear theory, not today.

The two of them hurried their way back around front. He’d left his bike on the side of the driveway and before Stretch could reach it, the hand in his that had been faithfully leading him all afternoon betrayed him. Suddenly, Stretch found himself yanked around, a tree trunk hard beneath his back.

He looked up with wide sockets and all he could see Edge looming in front of him, stark crimson eye lights boring into his own and arms braced against the tree on either side of him. They weren’t touching, not quite, but he was close, so close Stretch could feel the warmth pouring off of him and it was ridiculous that it made him shiver in the waning heat of the day, an uneasy trill tickling its way up his spine. Something that was not fear was swelling inside him, not fear at all.

“What is it about you?” Edge said abruptly. His eye lights were burning, bright coals in his dark, narrowed sockets.

“what do you—” Stretch started, too weak and a little lost.

He broke off on a confused sound as Edge leaned in suddenly, tried to jerk back but there was nowhere to go as Edge murmured close to Stretch’s audial canal, his breath damp, nearly as solid as a physical touch, “If you think I haven’t noticed your attraction to me, you may wish to redefine the word subtle.”

“uhhhh.” Not that it wasn’t true but getting called out on it right now was a little unexpected, hell, he hadn’t even been looking at Edge’s ass this time. Any reasonable answer slipped away from his fumbling reach. “that’s…i mean…”

“It’s not that you’re unappealing, but as you’ve said several times, you’re getting over a breakup.” A gentle thumb slid along his cheekbone in defiance of what Edge was saying, making Stretch suck in a sharp gasp of breath.

‘Not unappealing.’ Wasn’t exactly a glowing endorsement but eh, reviews didn’t always match the product.

“yeah,” Stretch said inanely. “yeah, i am.” As if that meant anything, as if he could even think of anything outside this singular moment. Edge was so close to him, the lines of their bodies separated by bare inches as Stretch breathed out a faint, “sorry.”

He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for.

“I’m not. You aren’t alone in this,” Edge exhaled a soft half-laugh. “I’ve felt an attraction to you since the moment you tried to hit me with that damn lamp. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

“yeah, uh,” Stretch swallowed hard, trying to add some starch to his voice, but it was so damned hard (fuck, don’t think that, don’t, shuffle that pun right to the end of the queue). Edge was so close, and the bark of the tree was rough through the back of his t-shirt, lighting digging into his ribcage like a goad, urging him to move, to step forward, to complete that circuit. Stretch didn’t move. “i mean, the way the multiverse theory goes, i’m sort of you. or you’re me. something like that.”

A low chuckle filled the air between them and Stretch closed his sockets, holy fuck, that voice rumbled through him like a miniature earthquake, “That isn’t what I meant at all. You don’t want to talk about your past and that’s fine. But that doesn’t mean the effects don’t linger.” The very tip of Edge’s nasal nodule brushed the side of Stretch’s skull as he sniffed delicately, his warm breath gusting.

Slim fingertips came to rest on his sternum over his damage soul and that single light touch affected him more than the entire groping session in the library. “I can smell your pain, such a deep hurt in your soul. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“edge,” Stretch whispered, closed his sockets against the answering whisper of his own name. There was the slightest pressure of a knee against his own and the temptation was there to spread his legs, to give it a place to rest, and he shouldn’t, they shouldn’t, but that warning voice was getting softer, distant, caught by a shepherd’s hook and hauled off the stage. He’d gone through half a dozen shocks since he woke up this morning, added them to the pile he'd gotten since he’d stepped off that bus. What was one more?

“I know all of that. I know it. So why am I so drawn to you?” Edge murmured distractedly, “What is it about you? Why can’t I leave you alone?” He reeled back, shaking his head as if to clear it, then, nearly pleading, “Don’t let me hurt you.”

A warning, a plea tangled together as one, and Stretch lurched after him, arms reaching with purely reckless intent, “you won’t, you aren’t, don’t go—"

The sudden klaxon of a horn made them jerk apart, Edge stumbling back and putting space between them. Stretch looked up see a rusty old pickup truck making its bumpy way down the path, coming to a stop with a wheezy squeal of brakes.

They watched it together, Edge with tight annoyance creasing his face and Stretch with panting confusion, struggling to get his breathing under control. It turned out to be a hell of a lot easier when the window rolled down the window and Red poked his head out, like getting doused with a bucket of ice water as he called with deliberate cheer, “hey, you two.”

“Brother,” Edge said, the greeting coming from between clenched teeth.

“you have a car?” Stretch asked, outraged. Shame was taking a hasty backseat because holy shit, he’d spent all afternoon on that bike when Red already had a set of wheels?

Red only grinned, a slash of a smile with his golden tooth winking in the dwindling light. “nah, i got a truck.”

“you never said!”

“you never asked,” Red countered. “it was gettin’ late and i got worried. didn’t want ya trying to scooter your way home in the dark, ya didn’t add a headlight to that rustbucket. toss the bike in the back and hop in.”

It wasn’t a question and yeah, somehow, he didn’t think Red was gonna buy that he and Edge were only talking, not this time.

Stretch felt a guilty flush heat his cheekbones, meekly obeying. It was for the best, he told himself, holy shit, yes, he should be grateful that Red showed up when he did, no matter what kind of protest his crotch was currently bleating up at him. The last thing he needed right now was any other attachments and not only because he felt like getting into another relationship right around never, (yeah, never worked for him) and rebound sex with the boss’s little brother was supposed to be off the table.

Getting into anything past friendship with Edge was a Bad Idea all the way around, ‘cause when it came down to it, Edgar Allen wasn’t the only person leaving, now was he. Stretch didn’t want to think about it, kept trying to avoid it, but the knowledge still came up in the back of his head, readying itself to bite him in the ass.

Eventually, Stretch was gonna have to find his own way home.

~~*~~

tbc

[ambientstars]

A little ambitious, but could we pleeease get 33 from the prompt list with 13 AND w!master? ✨

I love a challenge so thank you for this request!  “kiss me.” ““What?” “Just kiss me.”

Gif credit: @twelvethirteens

Note: I got a little carried away with this one, I hope you don’t mind? Also I’m sorry for the sloppiness towards the end, but ya girl just loses focus sometimes 🤷🏻‍♀️

-   -   -

Your hands were slammed into the pillow above your head, her fingers laced with yours. Quiet moans slipped easily from your throat, her lips on the underside of your jaw encouraging you.

Your legs wrapped themselves around her hips, your pelvises pressed together. Her hands were warm, one placing itself firmly in your hair to keep you still, the other roaming freely across your skin, skimming over the goosebumps and igniting a fire in their wake.

In the pit of your stomach, a butterfly spread its wings and fluttered around frantically, growing as desperate for escape as you were becoming for release.

The Master raised her head, her eyes dark with mischief and her lips pinker than usual from the tender assault on your neck. “You wait right here, I’ll be back in a moment.”

She leant back down to capture you in a kiss so deep, so scorching, it almost made you see stars. With your face flushed bright red and your eyes half closed, you allowed her to untangle herself from you and stand from the bed.

She looked down at you, a smirk displayed proudly on her flawless face at seeing the effect she had on you. “Don’t move. Have you got that, love?”

You nodded and gave a lazy smile, your fingers clutching the sheets beneath you in anticipation of the wait.

The Master would often get you hot and bothered, worked up beyond belief, and then leave you on your own whilst she busied herself with something else, all for her own enjoyment of seeing just how long you could last before begging her to come back and finish what she started.

She loved it when you begged, the desperate pleas were like music to her ears. She adored the way you’d grab onto her clothes and hold her close like your life depended on it, your body practically vibrating against her own. The satisfaction of controlling everything you felt and when you were allowed to feel it gave her the biggest thrill of it all, using her words and her actions to manipulate you in ways that made you melt in her arms.

Time passed as slowly as it always did when you found yourself in this situation, the minutes turned into hours, your muscles aching in hunger for touch, head dizzy with thoughts of possibilities.

Eventually it all became too much and you couldn’t stay in your place any longer, your feet carrying you down long twisting corridors in search of The Master.

You were good for The Master, almost always doing as you were told even if it took a little more encouragement sometimes, your whole being desperate for her praise.

But you were human after all and sometimes that meant you were disobedient and too curious for your own good. You often found yourself in trouble and received punishment for it, but despite how frustrated The Master would get with you, deep down she enjoyed having someone around with a fiery spark to keep things interesting.

That’s not to say you weren’t predictable, of course you were, to her anyway. She would know your next moves before you even thought of them, her brilliant mind always one step ahead. She got a kick out of having full control over you and giving you a sense of freedom even though there was none.

You reached a room, one you’d never been in before. It was different to the rest of The Master’s TARDIS, more whimsical and less lavish. It crossed your mind that perhaps the ship had built a new room and wanted to show you, proud of her efforts, but the thought was brief and not very detailed.

The Master popped her head out from the other side of the console, a brow raised as if she was confused. “Hello?”

You bounded forward, buzzing with energy, determined to feel her skin on yours again. You vaguely noticed that her outfit was different, something blue and loose replacing the suit, her hair straight and her height lowered a fraction due to the lack of heels, but in your need, you brushed that all away.

“Kiss me.” You pleaded, grabbing ahold of her coat and pulling her toward.

“What?”

“Just kiss me.” You yanked her into a kiss that made her stumble back a little in surprise. Not like The Master at all, but your judgement was clouded by relief.

After a moment, she relaxed into the kiss, her hands sliding around your waist and pulling you in closer. Your hands found their way to her hair, brushing past her ear and feeling a chain that definitely wasn’t there earlier.

You pressed yourself against her as much as you could, your lungs screaming for air and your mind burning with sensation. The blonde picked you up and carefully placed you on the edge of the console, spreading your legs so that she could stand between them.

“Excuse me.”

You broke away from the blazing kiss in fright, your heart pounding for a new reason. You looked over The Master’s shoulder to see… The Master?

You looked between them breathlessly, confusion setting in. “What?”

The woman between your legs stepped away with just as much bewilderment on her own face. Her face that looked identical to The Master’s, with more of a natural look adorning it.

“Do you mind not making out with my pet, Doctor.” The Master came forward from the doorway she was standing in, her lips pulled up into a playful smirk.

“Your what?”

“My pet.” She clarified, standing beside you and moving a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

You didn’t move, didn’t speak, too astonished by what was happening right in front of your eyes. You were half convinced that this was all a dream, a scenario made up in your own head by your feelings for The Master. Two of them in the same place, both of them wanting you? Definitely a dream.

The other blonde frowned, her soft lips in a tight line. You got the feeling that they knew each other well, a history between them albeit not a positive one. They seemed to speak without words, their eyes conveying everything they wanted to say to each other.

You noted a spark of jealousy in your stomach as you watched them, wanting nothing more than to have a connection with The Master like that, having her speak directly into your mind and your delicate human form being able to accept it and reply.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” You asked, slipping off from the console and standing between the identical women.

“This is The Doctor, an old friend of mine.” The Master began to explain, moving her attention over to you. “I wanted to try an experiment, for fun.”

“Experiment?”

“I fixed the doorway of the bedroom to be a teleport so that you’d walk right into The Doctor’s TARDIS. I wanted to see what would happen if you saw someone who looked like me, but wasn't.” She shrugged, speaking with a nonchalance that made your spine tingle. “And I wanted to see what The Doctor would do with a stranger on her ship without any knowledge of how they got there, being thought of as me.”

The Doctor scowled, her eyes turning darker than before. “I never want to be thought of as you.”

The Master laughed lightly. “And yet, you were.”

You blushed, embarrassed that you had kissed a stranger and enjoyed it too. You tried to reason with yourself that you didn’t know she wasn’t The Master and your actions were justified, but that didn’t stop the uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

“Let me tell you both, I was thoroughly entertained. I had thought there would be some conversation, a little plan of action and possibly a hint of sexual tension, but oh my!” She placed her hand on your shoulder roughly, her face lit up with excitement. “And you, Doctor! I’ve never seen you like that before, so wild and hungry, so careless as to who this person was.”

The Doctor looked at her feet, shuffling them nervously. She turned to you slightly. “I’m sorry.”

You mumbled a me too and bit your lip, ashamed.

“Come on, love, let’s go.”

The Master took hold of your hand and pulled you into her side. You didn’t fight, resting your head on her shoulder and completely submitting to her, just like always.

“See you around, Doctor.” She saluted her could-be-twin. “We should do this again sometime.”

You didn’t dare look up at the stranger you had just been attached at the lips to, opting to stay quiet rather than face her and feel another rush of embarrassment.

-    -

“Please don’t be mad.” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper.

“Mad?” The Master closed the door behind you as you entered the bedroom once more, pushing your back into the wall beside it. “I’m proud of you.”

You’d experienced a lot of confusion as far, but this took the prize. “You are?”

The Master leant down to continue her work from earlier, a purple bruise forming on the side of your neck. “You did exactly as I wanted you to.”

Your eyes fell closed, your head resting on the wall behind you. You held onto her shoulders as anchor to keep you grounded, your body relaxing so much you couldn’t stand up straight. “I did?”

She lifted you from the floor and took you back over to the bed. She hovered above you, smiling warmly. “You showed me how much you want me, how much you need me, and even though subconsciously you knew that wasn’t me, just seeing my face on her was enough to stop you questioning and submit to me.”

The Master had always had an odd way of going about things and this was just another thing to add to the mix. She could’ve just asked you, it wasn’t a secret, but you were too pleased and ultimately relieved that she wasn’t mad, you didn’t speak up about it any more.

She lifted up your shirt a little to reveal your stomach, planting soft kisses there, her hands on your hips. “You’re such a good pet, I think it’s time we finish what we started. Would you like that, love?”

You needed eagerly and relaxed into the mattress beneath, finally getting what you had wanted all along.

[sun-daddy-yoriichi]

Can we get Hc's of a severely injured Inosuke after the whole battle with Muzan, he's physically and emotionally drained and s/o takes him in to help him feel better. Help him with food, walking, baths, bandages etc. S/o is very loving and motherly with him so he gets more sad cause he's thinking about his mom, s/o reassures him his mom loves him and would be proud. When he cant sleep she would hold him and sing him to sleep. He felt better eventually overall fluff w/a gentle, sweet s/o he loves

Yooo you must make me wanna cry. Really, since I caught up with the manga, all I can think about is what the aftermath of this battle will be. Hopefully, nobody else dies, because my heart could NOT take that.

This was pretty fun to write! I almost made it a scenario rather than headcanons, but I decided against it. I wouldn’t be able to fit everything in if it was a scenario. Enjoy, lovies!

▃▃▃Warning(s) : Swearing, mentions of anxiety, some spoilers

Inosuke x Reader : Tender Love and Care (Headcanons)

From what we’ve seen from the manga now, it’s pretty easy to see that most Demon Slayers that fought in the final battle will definitely not be okay.

Inosuke is no different. He’s one of the more worse off, as he fought Muzan first-hand with the Pillars, but he can’t use his breathing to stop the bleeding from his wounds, like the Pillars can.

Cleanup after the battle against Muzan is stressful. Blood, body parts, and shattered nichirin blades dot the streets from the battle. Most of the survivors are missing limbs, or are in terrible condition even without it.

I would assume that (Y/n) would be an apprentice under Shinobu, being taught how to give medical attention to others. Even if she wasn’t a Demon Slayer that fought on the front lines, she was still rather crucial to the Corps.

(Another thing to note is that Shinobu knew that she would die, which is why she took on an apprentice to pass her knowledge down to. She especially drilled her disciple on more advanced medical treatment closer to the final battle, knowing it would benefit the corps if the girl knew).

Let’s just say, she had her hands full.

It was good that she was drilled to work under pressure, or the girl would have collapsed from stress.

She handled the Pillars first, making sure that they had at least stablised, stitching lacerations and stemming the blood flow from severed limbs (she had Kakushi watch over Tomioka and Himejima, in case they began to act abnormally in their sleep).

Then, she dealt with Inosuke and the others. She was particularly gentle with Inosuke, telling him how proud she was while she stitched his injuries, and set any broken bones.

When all of the work was done for the time being, she sat by his bed and held his hand, talking about anything and everything until he fell asleep. She herself could not sleep, because she had to make sure her dozens of patients were okay during the night. But she would check up on him every so often, singing him back to sleep whenever she found that he had woken up.

The road to recovery after such an intense battle is a long one. But (Y/n) is willing to walk with Inosuke every step of the way.

He most likely won’t want to talk after such a battle, and losing so many people close to him, so she’ll sit with him in silence, absorbing all of the bad thoughts he may have with just her radiance alone.

Getting him to stand is one thing. Getting him to walk again is a complete train wreck. It takes (Y/n), Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho to pull him up, and plenty of coaxing from (Y/n) to get him to take his first steps again. Of course, they know he’s in pain, but it’s a process that needs to be completed for all of the patients. Sooner or later, they have to walk again.

Rehabiliations will be overseen by (Y/n), making sure that nobody gets hurt when being stretched or pushed to work harder. Sometimes, her special attention to Inosuke will disappear, as she has to work with every single survivor to make sure they get back to the state they were in before.

After that, all of her attention is focused on him.

Inosuke, usually the loud and rambunctious type, has suddenly become quiet. The mental stress put on the Demon Slayer Corps during the final battle might have hurt his conscience, as he wasn’t able to save those that he cared about.

Lots of nightmares. Reliving the entire situation is like walking through hell, but (Y/n) is always there to wake him up, and hold him as he comes down from the adrenaline rush. She’ll always be there to sing him back to sleep, embracing him and offering what little assurance she can.

(Y/n) ends up taking him in after he is released from the Butterfly Estate, at least until he gets back on his feet.

It starts with the little things to make Inosuke feel like himself again. The small, silly things, that he would remember on a calm afternoon, or in the middle of the night, when he was overcome with emotion and sentiment.

Except, these little moments were to help fill his heart again, rather than to add to the overflowing pile.

“Inosuke, let me put my butterfly pin in your hair. Please?”

“Look, the koi fish are so lively today. Maybe because it’s sunny today?”

“Your boar head got dirty again. I’m gonna wash it for you, okay?”

Slowly, but surely enough, Inosuke begins to return to himself. The louder he gets, the more relieved (Y/n) feels, to have him back.

She’ll have to keep him from bouncing off of the walls, honestly.

Yes, there is the occasional slip-up, when he finds himself curling back into the shell he carved for himself, but (Y/n) will always be there to pull him back out.

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets IX

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing, (Italics are memories when they’re in bulk, but if it’s one line it’s a thought!)

A/n: Yes I know, a bit of a confusing chapter, I will clear it up as the story goes on. 

•••

“Okay, so, in this example,” Mike pointed to the paper he’d drawn on in red pen, of a line, like a tightrope, with a stick figure and a crapily drawn bug. “We’re the acrobat, Will, Barbara, that monster and you are this flea.” the dark haired child told you, pointing to the paper. “And this is the Upside Down, where you hid, and where Will is hiding. Mr Clark said the only way to get there is through a rip through time and space, that’s how you got there, even though you’re from the future.”

You nodded without much though, brows furrowed. You didn’t expect such a detailed lecture from a twelve year old, yet, here you were.

“Caused by a gate.” Dustin added. 

“That we tracked to Hawkins lab.”

“With our compasses.”

You nodded again. “That would make sense. . . It would probably have a stronger electromagnetic field than the north pole, so the needle would point you to the gate.” You weren’t good in science class, but you did still know things. 

“Exactly!” Dustin explained. “See, guys!” He told his friends, gesturing to you. “Even the time traveling weirdo knew!” 

“This gate underground?” Hopper asked. 

The girl, who’s name you learned was Eleven, looked to Hopper with a blank expression. “Yes.” 

“Near a large water tank?” He asked again.

Her answer was the same. “How did you know all that?” Dustin questioned.

“He’s seen it.”

You looked to your grandmother who’s grip on your hands tightened as she began to speak to Eleven. “Is there any way that you could. . . that you could reach Will? That you could talk to him in this-”

“The Upside Down.” Eleven corrected. 

You knew that Joyce was holding onto you so tightly because you were her granddaughter, and just a kid, but you also resembled her son in many ways. 

“Down. Yeah.” Joyce whispered. 

“She did it with me. . . When I was there. I saw her.” You told them. “She saw me too.”

“I didn’t do that.”

•••

What were you supposed to be thinking about while emptying a bag full of salt into the large kiddie pool with Hopper and Jonathan? That this was normal? That any of it had you feeling like you were perfectly sane. You felt like you were losing your mind. 

Maybe you were. Maybe you were really in 1983, but you’d imagined what that boy had said to you. That you imagined that entire scenario of buying a kid water balloons. Maybe you never did see Eleven in the Upside Down, as the middle schoolers liked to call it. But she remembered you too. 

Maybe you weren’t crazy. Maybe you were just. . . having a fever dream. That had to be it, right?

No, this was real, you were just trying to deny it, find any semblance of hope that you weren’t really there, filling up a kiddie pool with salt that Hawkins used for the roads. 

There was no explanation for how you could have possibly seen that boy in August, even though you didn’t show up in 1983 until September 5th. There was no explanation as to how you could have seen Eleven in that place, when she wasn’t the one who made it happen. 

But now you could clearly remember quite a few moments where things didn’t seem to add up in Hawkins. Like how you’d been walking with your dads and your brother, and stopped at the crosswalk with two girls who didn’t seem to know what personal space was, talking about Madonna as if she was new. Their clothing way out of date, with a pair of Levi’s, and , but you were never one to judge. 

But maybe they were talking about Madonna as if she was new, because she was to them. There were so many ‘maybes’ that you could dwell on, theorize over, analyze like you were good at, but that was exhausting. You’d barely eaten that day, just two donuts and a coffee and that was earlier in the day, it was late now, you were tired, and wanted to sit in the shower. 

The realizations just kept coming to you, though. Memories of being in Hawkins and seeing people who were out of place, or like the time you’d gone to a cafe with your family in what your dad used to be the arcade he always went to as a kid, and you’d blinked once after getting your smoothie, and the entire cafe was replaced with arcade games and children happily playing them before you blinked again and you were back in the cafe. 

The same happened when you’d been walking around Hawkins the afternoon before the incident in the restaurant that made you run off, and end up in that place. You’d been minding your own business when it happened, once again, you blinked, and everything was slightly different, hazy, yet clear. It looked like 1980’s Hawkins instead of the one you’d been in. 

Pulling the empty bag away from the kiddie pool, you tossed it onto the floor and looked at Joyce who nodded a bit, holding the goggles you’d found in a science lab that Joyce covered in duct tape to make it dark for Eleven. 

You then looked to Dustin who lowered an egg into the kiddie pool, and to your relief, it floated. “Okay, Kid, let’s get you in.” Eleven nodded a bit, taking the watch off of her wrist and handing it to Mike who put it on his wrist. Joyce handed her the goggles. Grabbing onto Eleven’s hand, you helped her into the pool while everyone surrounded the pool, watching as she lowered herself down to float in the salt water. 

Joyce took your hand, holding it in her own. Her spare steadying Eleven in the water while your spare reached out for the girl’s hand, which she grabbed onto and held tightly in her’s. 

“Barbara?” Eleven questioned. Your eyes looked to Nancy whose gaze was focused on the twelve year old female. 

“Is Barb okay? Is she okay?” 

You gave Eleven’s hand a gentle squeeze, the kind your Pa taught you how to do. She squeezed your hand back but didn’t relinquish her grasp, which told you something was wrong. 

“Gone. Gone! Gone!” Joyce released your hand and grabbed onto her shoulders while Hopper grabbed the girl’s other hand.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Joyce kept repeating while Eleven calmed down. But Nancy wasn’t calm, instead holding back tears of her own while Jonathan held her. 

“Castle Byers. Will?”

Your ears perked up, and so did Joyce’s. “Tell him. Tell him I’m coming, Mom is coming.”

From the walkie that you’d brought and placed on the medal cart holding the bags of salt you could hear his voice “Hurry”

•••

“Hey, Pa, Look at this!” Daniel said excitedly, holding out his phone for Pa to see the new high score on Tetris. 

“Kid, I can't, I’m driving.” Pa reminded, gesturing to the empty road. You were close to Dad’s hometown now. Hawkins, Indiana a small town in northern Indiana, but not anywhere close to Lake Michigan. 

“Yeah, Danny, Pa’s driving.” You told him matteraffactly with a smile. You were the older sibling, it was your job to antagonize your little brother. 

“Shut up!”

“Daniel!” Dad scolded, turning to face the two of you from the passenger seat of the Chevy. His usually soft and kind eyes, clearly annoyed with how the two of you had been treating each other the entire trip. “Stop telling your sister to shut up all the time. It’s rude, and annoying.”

You chuckled a bit and the tip of Dad’s pointer finger was facing you, causing you to just smile brightly at him, thoroughly amused. 

“Will, c’mon, you know her ‘fear sensor’ is broken. Remember when Danny threatened her with a fork?” 

You chuckled again and Dad just sighed at the memory, turning back to face the windshield. You’d all gotten back getting fast food, Daniel ordered boneless wings, and it came with a plastic fork. You’d said something to annoy him, and flat out, in front of your fathers, Danny threatened to stab you with it. To which you responded ‘Do it, Punk.’ You weren’t scared of your brother. 

The car grew quiet except for the music playing on the radio, which quickly turned to mostly static, which drew everyone’s attention. “Can I connect my phone?” You asked, holding up the device. 

“Uh. . . yeah, yeah sure.” Dad told you.

“What? Why can’t I ever connect mine?” Daniel demanded. Offended that on the way to Indiana only you and your parents had played things from your phones. 

“Because we actually have good music!” You shot back. 

“What? Mine’s way better!” 

“Dubstep isn’t music, asshole!” 

“Hey!” Pa and Dad both shouted at the same time, Dad holding the cord out to you to connect your phone, and the moment you reached for it, the static shifted a bit. 

“August fifth 1985-”

Your dad reached to the volume knob, turning it to the right to turn it up, amplifying the static female voice over the airwaves. 

“September- Castle by-”

“Dad?”

“Sh!” Dad told Daniel. Your brother’s hand found your own on the center seat while the two of you watched your Dad staring at the radio intently while Pa stole frequent glances to his husband while still trying to keep an eye on the road. 

“I’m sorry- Mist-”

“Will? Babe, what’s wrong?” Pa asked. He was freaking all of you out a bit with how intently he was listening to the familiar voice. 

“Sh!” He repeated, stunning you all into permanent silence. 

“No word for- Explainat- Ste-”

The radio went back to normal, and you saw the unreadable expression on your dad’s face and he leaned back into his seat, eyes still on the radio as Ed Sheeran’s name came across the screen, as well as the name of the song. 

“Dad? What was that?”

He stayed silent.

“You know, Sweetheart, sometimes when we’re in a lower area than before, the signal doesn’t reach us as well. . . It kinda changes between two stations.” Pa tried to reason, his hand holding Dad’s as he continued driving. 

“Yeah. . . Right.” You agreed, though you weren’t convinced, something about it wasn’t right. 

•••

“Name please? Your full name.” 

Looking up from the iron tabletop you met eyes with the man who had a few papers sprawled around on his side of the table, a fountain pen at the ready to write. 

You hesitate for a moment. “Y/n Byers L/n.” 

Everything was too much, trying to process how Joyce and Hopper left you, Nancy and Jonathan with the kids, and then Nancy and Jonathan left which resulted in all of this. The trauma of holding Mike in your arms as tight as your could on the ground as if he was your own brother while Eleven and that. . . thing both died. 

You remembered his tears and how he clutched onto your shirt in that seventh grade science class classroom, his heat against your chest while you tried to soothe him. You remembered how Dustin and Lucas came to you for comfort as well. 

“Year of birth?”

“2004.” You relayed blankly. The sounds of Mike’s muffled sobbing echoing around in her head while you sat in front of the government official. 

“Home residence?”

“425 Culpepper Lane, Weehawken, New Jersey.” The voice that you’d heard while running with Eleven in your arms also still echoing. 

‘Today is just another day of trying to get by without her.’

It was your brother’s voice. But not as high pitched, or squeaky. 

He asked your age. “Fifteen.” Was your response, looking down at your hands, where Eleven’s dried blood was smeared over your palm when you wiped it away from her nose. It was caked into your skin. 

“Alright Miss Byers, correct me on anything I might have wrong. Y/n Byers L/n born 2004 aged fifteen, raised at the address of 425 Culpepper Lane in Weehawken, New Jersey?” You nodded a bit and looked back up at him, 

“Biological daughter of William Byers?” He asked. once again, you nodded.

“Alright, Miss Byers, we need to go over a few more things.” He told you, taking out a large file and placing it on the table in front of you. 

“LIke?”

“How your new life will look. Unfortunately, we can’t get you back home to your time, we’ll help you build a new life here. We’ll give you a birth certificate, emancipation papers, and we’ll give you a monthly stipend for however much minimum wage is where you’re from.” He told you, taking out a calculator from the folder, ready to calculate how much you’d be getting from them. “How much is it per hour?”

“Like, ten dollars.” You shrugged a bit. Now not only trying to process the sobbing and tears that had stained your shirt and the girl who had disappeared before your eyes, probably dead, but now you had to process that the government was going to try and buy your silence. 

“Ten dollars?” He questioned, looking up at you from the calculator. “That’s outrageous!”

You tilted your head a bit, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. “Yeah, out of everything about my life so far, the most outrageous thing is the minimum wage in New Jersey as of late 2019. Inflation’s a bit of a bitch, isn’t it?” 

The man’s pale skin went flush, as if he just remembered who he was talking to. That you weren’t just an adult he was negotiating with, but that you were a fifteen year old girl who wouldn’t see the world like you knew it for another 36 years, where, biological, you’d be a fifty-one year old woman who lived her entire life in the past, instead of the fifteen year old girl who had her entire future in front of her. 

“I apologize. . .” He spoke, typing into the device and then taking out a check book and uncapping his fountain pen, writing down on the small rectangular paper. Ripping it off, he handed it to you. 

You just stared at the check for a moment before reluctantly taking it from him. Holding

it between your thumb and index finger, staring down at the beige paper without much thought, your vision not focused on anything in particular on the sheet. 

“We’ll have you moved into an apartment by the end of next week, and pay for rent for the first few months. We’ll give you a budget for furniture,-”

You began to zone him out, going back to a few hours prior. How when Eleven threw Mike back he landed against the cabinets. You were by his side in an instant, holding him while everyone watched in shock as Eleven sacrificed herself. 

Even twenty minutes after it was all over, you still held him on the linoleum floor listening to his crying while he held onto you for dear life. To him, you were a stranger, yet he trusted you enough to cry in your arms. A twelve year old version of your Uncle Mike, who you knew well. But you barely knew this boy. He was just a kid. He wasn’t the man guy you knew as your Uncle Mike yet. He was just a scared and sad kid. 

“Miss. Byers.”

You looked up snapped out of your train of thought, meeting the ice blue eyes that the men held. “You’ll be going by Y/n L/n, only. Byers is no longer your name. And you have to stay quiet about all this. We’ll talking to Mr. Sinclair, Henderson, and Wheeler, as well as Mrs. Byers and her son. We’ll speak with the chief as well as Miss Wheeler. No one can know you’re from the future. Or anything that’s happened due to Hawkins lab. We need you to sign this NDA. You can never speak about this again. Is that understood?” His question was assertive as he put the fountain pen in your hand. 

“Okay.” It was a whisper, but he understood it while you signed the papers, handing them back to him. 

“You and the Byers boy will come to the lab periodically to get checked up, mentally and physically-”

“Excuse me?” You questioned, tilting your head a bit. 

He cleared his throat, “You and William were in that place for extended periods of time. And we’re concerned about your health. The atmosphere there was toxic. We’re afraid that it could affect your long term health. Especially yours. How long were you there exactly.”

“A while.” You started recounting the amount of times the hands on your watch went by. “A month? Maybe?” 

His face shifted as he stared at you, before writing something down on his paper. You could remember how many times you’d counted after the Demogorgon busted its way out of the wall in the middle school. You could remember plenty about it now. How you’d take a few sips of water from your water bottle to make sure you were at least a bit hydrated, but you were conserving it. 

You’d always retained a bit of your baby fat from being an infant, but you’d crawled out of that place without any of it, and your baby face was practically gone. Cheeks a bit sunken in, barely noticeable, but you’d noticed it. You’d also noticed how you could see the bump where your ribcage ended without having to stretch up. You didn’t look like you. You didn’t look like the little girl who ran around the house while either your pa or dad chased after you. You didn’t look like the kid who you’d seen in the mirror the morning you called yourself an expensive disappointment. Now you supposed you were an expensive missing disappointment. 

“Alright Miss L/n. Send in Henderson when you leave.” He gestured to the door. It didn’t seem right, everything about it was slightly off as you stood from the chair, grabbing your bag and leaving the room into the brightly lit hospital hallway. 

“Dustin.” You called to the waiting room, seeing the curly haired boy look up at you in curiosity before seeing you gesture to the door with your head. He got up and went in.

•••

You were sitting on the floor, your back against the wall and your walkman playing Queen at full volume. You needed it. It was the only thing keeping you sane while the boys were with Jonathan, Joyce and Will. 

You’d sat with the boys before they were able to go back. Being the emotional support that the three needed. Even if their parents were there, they’d never understand what the boys went through. You did, and you’d be there for them as best as you could. 

But the moment they left, and Nancy and her mother had gone to get something to eat, you’d gotten up and went over to the vending machine, which refused to work. So you’d opted for the ridiculous look of having your walkman clipped to the collar of your hoodie, hair a mess and dark bags under your eyes, a scowl on your face. 

Eyes closed you just listened to Freddie Mercury’s voice, your foot tapping to the guitar rift. And even though you were completely absorbed into your music, you weren’t oblivious the feeling of someone standing next to you before sitting down. 

Opening your eyes you turned your head to see Steve sitting next to you. His face bruised and a few cuts from how harshly Jonathan had punched him. But you were pretty sure the small one by the crease of his nostril was from you. 

You pulled the headset off of you ears and stared at him while he said nothing, the music now being heard by both of you. 

“I’m a giant prick, huh?” It made you smile a bit, tilting your head in confusion as he turned his head to look at you, eyes soft. “I mean- I fucked up. I over reacted over Jonathan and Nancy, I’m. . . I’m sorry that I was mean to you.” 

You shrugged a bit, keeping quiet which left him confused. You always had something to say to him, always was quick to playfully insult him, or give a come back, you usually said something witty to keep up the banter and conversations. 

“Y/n, you gotta give me something to work with, I don’t know how to talk to you right now. You look like you want to equally cry and punch me again.” 

“I don’t wanna punch you.” You finally said, turning your head back to where the wall and ceiling met in front of you. “Just a bad day overall. I mean, i go to very early this morning, like two am, and then Jonathan had the fucking audacity to wake me up at seven. And then you and your shit-stirrer friends pissed me off, I bruised my hand.” He said, lifting up the fist you’d used to punch him, maybe a bit too hard. “Got arrested, only ate two donuts in the morning, then I. . . deal with a lot of mind-fucking bullshit, then I filled a kiddie pool with salt. Fucking salt. It wasn’t even really a kiddie, it was giant. And then! Oh and then, I ate a fucking can of choclate pudding! I hate pudding! I was just hungry! And then I held a twelve year old in my arms in a empty science class while he cried.” 

Steve stared at you, seeing the stress that had been put on your shoulders throughout the entire day. He didn’t know what to say. What was there to be said? You were trying to cope with something, and he couldn’t see what it was. 

“Yeah, that. . . sucks.” Was all he could say but it got a frustrated and annoyed groan out of you. 

“Yikes! Just say yikes! Or if it’s really bad ‘big yikes!’” You’d said it so many times back to back that it didn’t sound like a real word to you.

But Steve found it interesting while he stared at you, examining the way the hoodie fell around your silhouette, and the ridiculous way you had your walkman clipped right under your neck. The pink medal being a very stark contrast to what you were wearing

“Yikes.” He repeated with a smile. 

A brief grin came across your face as he said it. 

“So, we’re still friends?” He asked, sitting up straight and turning his whole body to face you, his legs crossed like a kindergartener on the class carpet, in his own colored square. 

“We were friends before?” You asked teasingly, doing the same to face him, and like you were as a kindergartener, sticking a leg out. Which always got you into trouble. 

“Shut up.” 

“Y/n!” 

Turning your head you saw Jonathan coming down the hall, A piece of stained paper in hand as he came over. You didn’t miss the way that both Steve and Jonathan glanced at each other, though. 

“Jona-”

“Here. I think you’ll want to see this.” He told you, holding out the folded piece of paper out to you, which you hesitantly took as Steve picked up on the cue to leave 

“I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you later?” You nodded as a response, watching as Steve stood up and went back to the opened waiting area while Jonathan squatted down next to you as you unfolded the paper only to be met with a photo of your own face. The word ‘missing’ right above it in all capital letters, your name, age, and facial description on it, as well as what you’d been wearing when you’d ran off that night. The date of your birth, and the date of that night. 

“Mom said she found it in there.” Jonathan informed you while you kept examining the photo of yourself. Your hair pushed behind your ears, a smile on your face in a pale blue sweater around Christmas time. 

“No. . .”

•••

Add yourself to the taglist!

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers​ @jxnehxpper​ @yllwtaxi​ @songofcosplay​ @potatopooper05​​ @cheesecakeisapie​​ @robinsdolan​​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​

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Björk DISCOG REVIEW Part 1

One of the most recognized avant-garde singers in the world, Björk Guðmundsdóttir is an Icelandic artist who has been releasing critically acclaimed albums since the early 90s, and an icon in the experimental music scene. I thought it’d be an exciting experience to dive into her discography to find out if her music resonates with me, and to understand what this revered singer is all about. I decided to start with her major studio albums first, then moving on to her early work with Icelandic band The Sugarcubes and whatever else she has out there.

 Debut

Björk’s properly titled debut is a wild amalgamation of sweet love songs, upbeat house music inspired by the UK’s early 90s scene, a hint of jazz, and of course, Björk’s enchanting voice. I won’t pretend to be a music university graduate or whatever, as I know close to nothing about what 90s music sounded like, what could have potentially influenced Björk on this album, nor will I try to give some sort of lecture about what is going on here; I’ll just cite what I enjoy and what I don’t, and why.

Debut feels authentic, it’s a finely crafted album, from its musical styles to its production to its songwriting. What spiked my interest immediately in it were the drums, and how fresh and varied they were; this is a very percussion-heavy album, the UK beats Björk implements are all about the infectious rhythms that enter your body and seem to control it, but even on tracks not so influenced by the nightclub life, the percussion is very good, in songs such as the opening Human Behaviour, with its fat bass drums, or the iconic, soothing Venus As a Boy, featuring tambourines, strong kicks, some rattle instrument, a prominent sampled echoing sound and a hint of bongos; these are all alongside various other rich instruments, violin passages that flow with the track perfectly, what sounds like xylophones peppering the track, all of this making this the best song in the album, in my opinion.

And when these instruments are not there, of course Björk herself makes up for it. Like Someone In Love is a beautiful ode to, well, love, comprised only of a harp, the singer’s eye-watering performance, and some ambient noise; it reminds me a bit too much of her cover of I Remember You, mostly because they’re both based on harps, but it is still very beautiful on its own. The Anchor Song is the emptiest on the record, closing the album up with some tension and overall introspection. It features only one verse from Björk sung two times, and like three saxophones? Definitely two at least, I’m not sure how they work, but it makes for a great, simplistic finisher (even if latter editions include Play Dead, a beautiful song, but not exactly fitting after the song before it).

Throughout the first handful of tracks, the pattern of “inward emotionally potent song sequenced by urban-life dance anthem, and back again” became apparent to me, but then broke after One Day did not transition into a dance track. Basically, my instant perception was that the record was this rollercoaster showcase of the hopeless romantic experience in a metropolitan, nocturnal city, and it may be, but if it is, it’s not as in-your-face as I initially thought. What catapulted these thoughts was the live version of There’s More To Life Than This, probably the most commercially-adept instrumental tune in the record, performed by Björk in a version purposefully awkward and weirdly personal, where she sings her second verse directly into a mic while the beat faintly plays in the background, fading further and further until the song flawlessly transitions to Like Someone In Love. It really makes you feel like your are at the Milk Bar, the night is packed, and Björk just pulls you into the bathroom and starts singing the rest of the song (for some reason); it reminded me of all those YouTube videos where the uploader takes a popular song, adds some background chatter, and soaks it all in reverb to give you the experience of listening to the song from the bathroom of a party. It is a distinct, creative way of spinning the original dance track around into something more, something that conveys this feeling of slight loneliness, even when surrounded by people, the central topic of the second song, Crying. The lyrics describe the big city, the huge crowds, but conversely the feeling of solitude and missing your loved one, or maybe even a place, it’s not explicitly told who or what Björk misses.

Romance is ever-present in Debut, through many incarnations. Big Time Sensuality, one of the most upbeat tracks here, is about a fresh romantic relationship, and the growing sensation of “something important (...) about to happen”, assumingly between Björk and whoever else. The house beat paints the scenario for this relationship as a club, by default. It brings you into this exciting nightlife, only for you to be pulled away immediately after by One Day, a track so cheerful it’s irresistible, and holding tight to the theme of romanticizing a loved one, then reaching Aeroplane in yet another beautiful transition. I have to admit this is the first song I don’t love in the album, I think it is good, and in the context of the album, definitely brings something new. What sets it apart is, this time around, the bongos are being used to their full extent, paired with birds chirping and a comfortable bass, incremented by occasional saxophone passages, this track ends up very tropical. After this, Come To Me is another passionate song, this time, Björk sings of comforting her partner and nurturing them, which naturally creates a super chill aura to the song. Accompanied by the violins and the lowkey guitars, it makes for a solid track, which in the context of the album I think eases the mood a bit too much, but is appreciated as a solid production, and closes out by bringing out the bongos once again, in a very nice outro (I should also note this is the first appearance of a real drum set on the album [I think]) (I should also also note the bassline sounds a little like early studio versions of True Love Waits by Radiohead, just some trivia).

Violently Happy right afterwards is the least interesting of the house tracks, with a mostly simple instrumental, and vocals Björk seeming to be compressed, or dowsed in some other effect. It’s not a standout in the tracklist to me, but the beauty of Debut is that the worst song is still solid as fuck. I think it’s a very consistent album, that delivers a unique and one-of-a-kind experience.

I didn’t expect this type of sound from Debut, but I was pleasantly surprised. It took me a while to like, but it definitely grew on me on with this 4 a.m. listening session I just had. I look forward to everything else I will listen to by Björk.

 FAVORITE TRACKS: Venus As A Boy, Like Someone In Love, One Day, Big Time Sensuality, Human Behaviour

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Violently Happy

 8.7/10

“Lately I find myself gazing at stars, hearing guitars like someone in love.”

 Post

Going into Post, I was aware this would be quite different from Debut. I had listened to Army of Me and It’s Oh So Quiet before, seeing as they’re two of Björk’s biggest songs, and they obviously sound nothing like the acid house beats and soft, calming ballads in her debut, and that’s what is good about it, the sudden shift from a relatively safe musical environment to aggressive, chunky electronic production in Army of Me and Enjoy, and the absolute turnaround that is It’s Oh So Quiet.

The bold production decisions are what make this album exciting and surprising, in tracks such as I Miss You, mixing a synth-line with super loud bongos and some addictive synthesized drums, and trumpets at the end of the song, or the famous use of the Locrian mode in Army of Me, creating this menacing, dissonant melody, which perfectly fits the song and serves as an appropriate intro to the album that succeeds it. But they don’t always have to be out there to be notable and great: what I can tell from around the internet is that you can ask every single Björk fan ever what their favorite track by her is and it feels like at least a quarter will answer Hyper-ballad, and (even though I’m not nearly done with her discography) I can I say it’s with very good reason, as it is an amazingly composed song; same with Possibly Maybe, an enheartened slow jam which progresses from a cute love song about desiring to be with the one she’s flirting with, to disappointment in how they treat her, to the breakup, where she states she started wearing lipstick again, sucking her own tongue in remembrance of her once lover.

The album is very love-centered, specifically focused on the desire to be physically with someone, with how Björk mentions her love interest’s touch in plenty of tracks, such as I Miss You, a song about missing someone she apparently has never been with, where she literally asks her significant other “when will I get my cuddle?”. uwu.

(also what is this cover art lmao)

Also including this thirst for deeper contact are the songs Enjoy (“I wish I’d only look, and didn’t have to touch”, “How can I ignore? This is sex without touching?”) and Headphones (”They start off as cells that haven’t been touched before, these cells are virgins”), but the subject matter isn’t always literal and spelled out, as the tracks Isobel and Hyper-ballad seem to play with the idea of a hermit lifestyle, whether it’s at the top of a mountain or in the heart of a forest, with different meanings between the two, however. In Hyper-ballad, she’s isolated from the world alongside her lover, while in Isobel, she’s completely alone, married to herself, as she says. I enjoy the theme, but I think the vocals and instrumentation, while interesting, aren’t as good as many other examples from the album, same with the track previous to it, You’ve Been Flirting Again, which employs very faint and uniform violins under some soothing yet stagnant lyrics by Björk; it serves mostly as an interlude, I suppose, but it could go a little further, in my opinion.

To end the album, Cover Me and Headphones subdue the atmosphere by a lot. They’re very toned down, the first features some really nice windy background noise, and what I think is an oud. It’s an amazing section of the album, and from what I can gather, seems to be about her own experimentation with her music, describing a journey into what I think is this very album, a big departure from Debut for sure. It then transitions seamlessly into Headphones, which, on par with its title, is a much better experience if you are wearing headphones. The buzzing bass, Björk’s nearly ASMR vocals turning into gibberish at the end, and bubbly percussion are all super pleasing to the ears, and it continues the theme of her own musical creating process, singing how her headphones saved her life, and how nothing will ever be the same; it’s almost prophetical, and definitely one of my favorite songs here.

Post is much more colorful, daring and wild than Debut, but I don’t know if I like it better than its predecessor. I feel like Debut is obviously much more comfortable and pleasing than Post, and that even though Post has amazing tracks like Hyper-ballad, Enjoy and Possibly Maybe, as an album, I’m not really feeling it as much as the last one. The sense of cohesion in the last one, and how it used the UK beats to the best of their potentials, mixing them with much more soothing tracks and beautiful vocal performances is what attracts me to it so much. I really appreciate the direction Post took, as I don’t suppose many people were doing anything close to this in the 90s or before, and it certainly has its highlights, but I think Debut just got a tighter hold of me, and I just enjoyed it more, if looking at it from a purely superficial standpoint. The experimentation here is great, but I enjoy how fresh Debut sounds slightly more.

 FAVORITE TRACKS: Hyper-ballad, I Miss You, Army of Me, Headphones, Possibly Maybe, Enjoy

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: You’ve Been Flirting Again

 8.5/10

“This is really dangerous, cover me. But worth all the effort, cover me.”

 Homogenic

Alright shit got real.

This is way better than the last two albums, and they were amazing to begin with. But this album is insane. It’s focused, but also so loose and free. It’s an amazing experience, and I think Björk in her most comfortable style yet. She doesn’t miss the mark in one track of this album, they’re all at the very least good.

It starts off with the delirious drum patterns and violins in Hunter, and I tell you, I haven’t seen a better streak of amazing songs in an album yet: from the intro to 5 Years, all the songs between it are fucking fantastic, and that is only broken by Immature, a track which I don’t think is supposed to be much more than an interlude anyway; then it’s right back with Alarm Call.

I really don’t think I have anything to complain about in this review apart from 5 Years and Immature. On the first listen, I thought Howie B’s version of All Is Full Of Love was inferior to the original, which I had heard and loved a while ago, but I can’t even say that, because this one is perfect as an outro. With the drums gone, the track feels like a goodbye from Björk as you slowly descent from heaven after listening to this album; plus, it comes right after Pluto, by far the most aggressive song in Homogenic, with the singer yelling over her glitchiest production yet. Then it suddenly gives way to that incredible outro. Other amazing transitions include Unravel to Bachelorette, decorated by the overlapping violins, and from 5 Years to Immature. The serene, gorgeous sound of Unravel against the energetic, cinematic Bachelorette orchestra is easily one of the best moments in the album as well.

I find that whenever I find an album really good, I have problems describing why, but I promise this time I’ll try harder than when I listened to MAGDALENE. To start, Björk’s singing and the instruments backing her have never been more in harmony with each other, mainly due to Björk’s and her producers’ focus on maintaining a homogenous sound throughout the record, as its title implies, and this style is the mix of strings and other orchestral instruments (including an accordion at some points) with the odd, sometimes glitchy (All Neon Like, 5 Years, Pluto) other times fleshed out and bulky (Hunter, Immature, Alarm Call) production of Mark Bell, Guy Sigsworth, Howie B, Markus Dravs and, of course, Björk herself. Jóga and Unravel are my favorite Björk songs so far, and the fact that they come back to back, right before Bachelorette, is still crazy to me.

Alarm Call is a beautiful song about how your music impacts the world, and just an anthem of euphoria basically, which might be a little out of place surrounded by the very specific sound the album goes for, with its bop qualities and dance rhythm, but I appreciate it a lot just for how easily Björk can pour her feelings onto a track and make it work out of seemingly nowhere. This song demands happiness from the listener, and it’s extremely difficult not to give in to its groove (“I’m no fucking Buddhist, but this is enlightenment”).

In my opinion, All Neon Like is the perfect embodiment of Homogenic’s atmosphere: it’s not as brilliantly and enormously produced as the songs before it, but it is frigid and ethereal, the lyrics are sung fairy tales, continuing the genius metaphors in Bachelorette.

It’s slightly futile for me to try and dissect Björk’s lyrics one by one, but they do stand out more than in her previous records as well, even though the focus on Homogenic is mainly in its aesthetic. 5 Years is the first song that features lyrics that point themselves against someone, a former love interest of Björk, accusing them of not being able to handle her, and while Immature’s lyrics don’t go anywhere due to them consisting of a verse repeated twice, they follow the theme of abandoning a lover, and this time, the questioning is to herself, wondering how she thought her significant other was a cure to all her personal issues. Hunter, an amazing intro to an amazing album, centers its lyrics around some of the same topics as the outro in Post (Cover Me and Headphones) which describes a voyage into the unknown that was Björk’s musical endeavors at the time, her will to go the distance to create something brand new and exciting. In this intro, she compares it to hunting and bringing the food to the table. It starts: “If travel is searching and home what’s been found, I’m not stopping”. It’s fucking brilliant man holy shit.

Now that I write this, I realize, from 5 Years onward, the songs cease to be about idolizing another person, with tracks such as Immature and Alarm Bell being introspective looks at Björk and her current feelings, and Pluto being about batshit self-change. Even All Is Full Of Love, with its first lyrics being “You’ll be given love, you’ll be taken care of”, seems to be addressing more of the ambient surrounding the person than the person themselves, as if they’re a placeholder for all the angelic ambience around the listener. Maybe the song is literally about placing the listener in this scenario, who knows.

Definitely best album I’ve heard yet, and what excites me is that people praise the next album so much, I’ve never seen someone talk much about Homogenic. I literally don’t know how Björk can top this, but I’ll see.

 WORST TO BEST: 5 Years, Immature – Mark Bell’s Version, Hunter, Pluto, Alarm Call, All Neon Like, Bachelorette, All Is Full Of Love – Howie’s Version, Jóga, Unravel

 Fuck it, 10/10

“I’m a path of cinders burning under your feet. You’re the one who walks me, I’m your one-way street.”

 Vespertine

I am pleased.

This is insane, man. I think I’ll be a huge Björk fan after I’m finished with this discography. Vespertine is meticulous, it’s enchanting, it’s all-around wonderful. You can tell Björk and her team put incredible effort into this album, for it to sound as effortlessly beautiful as possible; not one idea or song here sounds forced, out of its element, or simply put bad. They unite to create one of the most astounding listening experiences I think I’ll ever get in my life.

Vespertine is proud, but introverted. As a sequel to Homogenic, it serves as its lighter half: where Björk described Homogenic as “confrontational”, “active” and “warrior”, Vespertine flips that upside down, and brings microbeats, music boxes and harps to the table. This is a very effective alternative to songs such as Jóga and Bachelorette, where the instrumentals and the singer seemed to try and outdo each other, creating these grand, empowering songs; in this album, they merge together into living, breathing and deeply personal lullabies. One of the most impressive talents of Björk is that she seems to take the identity of her album to heart, and mixes her unique songwriting and singing talents and her otherworldly personality into the project’s own personality, becoming an artform much greater than the sum of its parts.

Songs like Hidden Place, It’s Not Up To You and Pagan Poetry are Björk to the bone, with their more elaborate and ear-catching production, their humongous vocals, and would be comfortable if they were to be pulled from this album into another; however, deeper cuts such as Aurora, Cocoon, Undo and An Echo A Stain are the embodiment of this album’s aesthetic, its frigid atmosphere and tiny, fragile surroundings. They are like symmetrical, unique snowflakes when softer, or huge, arctic blue glistering caves when grander. They’re precise; stable, but at the same time would not work if they weren’t organized exactly how they are.

It’s easy to get too comfortable listening to Vespertine. The tracks are almost spiritual in a way, they convey an unparalleled bliss to the listener, and getting lost in the album is almost part of the experience. Especially in the second half of Vespertine, where things get real lowkey. Songs merge into each other, starting with the wonderful music box interlude Frosti into Aurora, which features one of Björk’s strongest vocal performances, proceeding to An Echo A Stain, a standout for its weird, suspenseful and eerie instrumental, evoking a dark vibe, it sounds like a deep underwater exploration into the darkest abysses of the ocean or some shit. The lyrics are also uniquely confrontational, they don’t portray the undying passion of songs before it, instead proclaiming “Don’t say no to me. You can’t say no to me. I won’t see you, denied.”. With all the vague and spacey lyrics, and the uneventful instrumental, it’s impressive this song progresses so well, mainly due to its weird, unsettling tone that sets itself apart from the rest of the songs. In a way, these odd and abstract lyrics mixed with the ethereal and bittersweet instrumentation remind me of some Radiohead songs, such as The National Anthem, How To Disappear Completely and Ful Stop, and I’m realizing this is a style of music I’m prone to liking.

Sun In My Mouth is not much of a standout topically or sonically to me, as it doesn’t do much to expand upon the sexuality of the album, with lyrics once again referring to inserting fingers into wherever, and closing with “Will I complete the mystery of my flesh?”, the themes seem to have nowhere to go. Heirloom depicts a reoccurring dream about Björk losing her voice, and having her mother and son pour a glowing oil into her mouth, which is a cute and artsy way of saying they’re her fuel for continuing with her craft, I guess. The lyrics don’t go anywhere with themselves after this though, but the instrumental is very creative and memorable, it creates a neat little bubble of involving, resonating synths.

Employing some heavy strings for Harm Of Will, Björk doubles down on the romance of the album, in a rather stripped-down song, with a few vocal highlights from her. It finds its place in the tracklist, I guess, although the oral sex line comes off a bit too strong for the smooth sentiment of the song.

To close Vespertine off, Unison, the longest song in the album, lays back on an ambient sample by Oval, and features one of Björk’s most unique vocal harmonies on its chorus; overall a nice, upbeat outro for a wonderful album.

I will say I felt more excited listening to Homogenic, as I think Vespertine’s romantic, sexual aura doesn’t expand into much after some of the many heavily sensual verses, while Homogenic wasn’t as tight and claustrophobic for me. Vespertine, however, was freer and left a bigger impact on me, It’s Not Up To You succeeded in making me cry. At the same time, none of the songs here felt like they didn’t belong, like they took away from the experience; every sound and line collaborates to make something bigger, something I don’t think I’ll get from many other albums in my lifetime.

 BEST TO WORST: It’s Not Up To You, Pagan Poetry, Undo, Hidden Place, An Echo A Stain, Unison, Aurora, Heirloom, Cocoon, Harm Of Will, Frosti, Sun In My Mouth

 It is a 10

“I can decide what I give, but it’s not up to me what I get given. Unthinkable surprises about to happen, but what they are, it’s not up to you.”

 Medúlla

Björk’s 2004 Medúlla is, surprise surprise, an acapella album. And to further surprise, I liked it.

After Homogenic and Vespertine, I guess there was nowhere to go but towards the more experimental. You can’t really outdo those two albums in their own game, so you gotta branch out, try different things; and trying different things is exactly what Björk excels at, apparently. With Medúlla, all that wild, bombastic or serene instrumentation her previous albums were peppered with is gone, giving way to backing vocals ranging from super deep male bass to angelic choirs, beatboxing, and occasionally an isolated instrument. The album is rooted on the most primary form of music: barely any instruments, almost no effects or audio manipulations, just many voices uniting to become one; lyrics about childbirth, the human body, oceans and, of course, love.

Listening to Medúlla is interesting because it is very familiar, while also being a completely different experience from Björk’s previous albums. Songs like Who Is It and Mouth’s Cradle are unmistakably her, while at the same time being coated with an extra layer of experimentation, and with this new direction, Björk and her team are able to channel an energy that stands shoulder-to-shoulder with some of her best production. Where Is The Line? and Oceania are intricate and complex, showing just how much can be done with only the human voice. The low male vocals and beatboxing structure the songs, the choirs in the background give them depth, all the sounds link with themselves to amount to some incredible songs.

On the flipside, however, few songs fail to achieve that, in my opinion. Desired Constellation is notably bare and empty, with few aspects to its composition. The mystical lyrics that characterize Medúlla are still here, describing Björk playing routinely with stars to form whatever she desires, but apart from that, there isn’t much to experience. Mouth’s Cradle and its successor Miðvikudags are also not of much significance to the rest of the album, as they drift from its acapella compositions by employing some pleasant, but unnecessary synths as the basis of the songs. The simpler, shorter interludes that are peppered through the album are pretty much the standard sound for this record, fleshing it out with small little vocal passages and, of course, gibberish. Show Me Forgiveness, from my interpretation, is Björk apologizing to either herself or her daughter (as implied by the last line, “The girl might live”), for letting her interior voice be drowned out by the exterior; Öll Birtan is a simple buildup to the aforementioned Who Is It, but the best of the bunch are Sonnets/Unrealities XI, the poem it may not always be so; and i say by e. e. cummings over some of the best backing vocals in the album, Vökuró, where Björk sings a traditional Icelandic song in a very intimate and gorgeous moment in the album, and Ancestors, which features some passionate, odd and intriguing growls all throughout it.

It’s remarkable what Björk came up with in this album, the mystical aura surrounding it and forming its lyrics, in particular the verses in Oceania where she takes the role of the Ocean, exploring its perspective of Earth, time and the continents, Pleasure Is All Mine, which describes motherhood and childbirth for a sublime intro, and Submarine, featuring Robert Wyatt, evoking a sense of rebelliousness and urgency. Great album.

 FAVORITE TRACKS: Oceania, Sonnets/Unrealities XI, Where Is The Line? Pleasure Is All Mine, Vökuró

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Mouth’s Cradle

 8.8/10

“When in doubt: give”

Outro

I postponed ths review for like 2 months or something, I don’t even know. Basically, from Debut to Vespertine was probably a one-month span of time, while it took me about double that time to actually write about Medúlla, because of what I think was a depressive episode. In the meantime, I started just reviewing shit on RateYourMusic (my username is fantaguarana, if anyone cares). I thought of stopping, I had this feeling that the whole “writing about everything I listen” thing was really forced and starting to become a chore, but now that I actually got to it, I think I notice how much it helps me organize my thoughts on music, compared to just listening to an album and never really reflecting on what it really means.

I’ll probably stop writing about everything I listen to, and leave this blog for the albums that really change me as a person. Have a good day yall.

[huicitawrites]

Would it be very bad of me to ask for more ThorkellXfemale reader? :3

“Thrill of The Battle”

Yandere! Thorkell x Female! Reader

scenario

warning: obsessiveness, possesiveness, fighting.

———————————————————

“I won’t duel with you.” her response came out dry and cold, [e/c] hues fixated on the sword as she brought up the small stone up its blade. She tried to ignore the man standing before her, but the shadow his monstrous height casted upon her made it difficult to do so. Moreover, she could feel him eyeing her up. His intense stare sent shivers along her spine, still, she kept her composure.

“C’mon [Y/N],” as always he chuckled. Is everything a joke to him?, she rolled her eyes. The blonde viking huffed and crouched down to her level, seeking for her sight. However, she stilll kept her pretty eyes on that stupid sword. He could not believe he was getting jealous of a sword.

Without a word’s warning, the man snatched the sword out of her smaller hands and lefther with that little stone alone. The [h/c]’s opened mouth shut in a pout he found adorable, and immidiately she stood up.

“Give it back.” ordered the female warrior opposed to him, but the other paid no mind as he played around with the weapon. His big hands fidgeted with its hilt and his calloused fingers ran up through the blade, examining its sharpness and strentgh. It was almost weightless to him, even shorter than his own legs.

The viking continued to observe her sword, ignoring the demanding stretched-out arm and making her opened palm wait. “What, paying me with the same coin? Really, do you think that’ll work on me?”, but the man kept her cherished sword on his hand.

“Thorkell, don’t make me repeat myself. Give. It. Back.” this time, [Y/N] clenched her fists and straightened her back; feet strong and firm while her shoulders were held wide. Lastly, she tilted her head upwards; glaring into his eyes.

The giant merely giggled, finding your attempt in intimidating him pathetically cute. His slim cheeks adopted a slight, rose colour with how you looked at him determined.

The smaller warrior growled and reached her arm upwards. Quick in motion, the blonde lifted the sword high; making it impossible for her to grab it. After all, she was no match for his terrific height.

“It’s mine! Give it-“ the maiden was silenced by a single finger on her rosy lips. “Shhh, I’ll give it back”, for a second her [e/c] eyes glimmered and she accidentally gifted him a smile. The viking lowered the sword, but just when she was about to take it, he rose it again. “However,” he said with emphasis- “You have to defeat me in battle”. She froze, lips shut and eyes wide.

She forgot he’d do something like this, try to deal his way into battling her. Try to force himself on her in all ways he could.

Moreover, she despised battling with him. He is a lunatic, a battle maniac. Many believe he has giant’s blood running through his human veins.

“What do I get in return?”

“Well, I’ll return this cheap-stick”, suddenly, a new-found sense to beat him invaded [Y/N]. He crossed the line by insulting her sword, a warrior’s most trusted companion- the most precious treasure.

A weapon that had accompanied her throughout life. A gift from the village’s harald to symbolise her honor.

“And if I lose?” she asked. The possibility, she acknowledged, was high yet not that greater than hers. Aware this was Thorkell, she surely could not afford to lose.

“I keep this sword- I’ll give you a better one. Plus, I get a kiss.”

The woman hissed in disguss, “That’s unfair!”

“Not really. I will fight bare-handed whilst you-” the tall blonde advanced toward the little warrior and clasped his fingers around her chin, pulling her face to his side and cooed sickengly sweet, “-will use a shield. Aren’t you a shield maiden, the best in your village to add?”

Perhaps other warriors would have been honored to be recognised in such a way, boasting up their pride and returning the favor. [Y/N] begged to differ, for it was far from a compliment but a taunt. And damn did it work, it would be humiliating to refuse.

“Alright, I agree to your terms.” said the brave woman as she spun on her heel and walked towards the small arsenal that laid a few meters away. From the shelf, she took out a round, wooden shield and hooked it on her [right/left] arm.

Thorkell stood on the opposite side awaiting with an eager grin plastered on his face. If she had squinted hard and observed the look on his eyes, she’d get scared at the adoration they held. In his eyes, she was the prettiest valkerye- [h/l], braided, [h/c] hair waving along the light breeze of the air meanwhile her long skirt danced along with those hips. The armor that hugged her delicate form perfectly hugging all curves as the chains added a radiance to her figure.

The petite stood her ground as she locked sights with the giant, she knocked on her chest with the shield and dared “I’ll bring you down, Thorkell The Tall”.

His grin only grew and he laughed between teeth.

‘I am shorter and weaker, but faster and more agile. I have to be, one punch and I’m doomed’, she tightened her hold on the shield, ‘Two punches on the shield and it’ll surely break into splinters’.

The second they stood at arms reach, her blonde opponent and captor threw a punch which she dodged by a strand’s distance. She ducked below it with a twirl and saw his rib cage’s side. Fast, [Y/N] bashed her shield’s edge into the opening; causing the viking to tumble. Without a pause, she continued; taking advantage of the little time she had before he’d recover his breath.

The man twisted his feet to root his stance on the ground and brought his other arm to jab it into her gut, however wiser, the shield-maiden bashed his wrist away and diverted the hit. Following the blocking up with a bash that pushed on his shoulder. [Y/N] then push-kicked his hip, creating an aliviating distance between the two.

The [h/c] huffed and puffed, for it took a lot of strength in her moves to do any harm to the monster before her. Let alone push such mass. Thus, in terms of stamina Thorkell had the upper hand.

The man felt a little pain, nothing more than a sting on his side. Where he touched, it hurt more. He laughed, “Oh, [Y/N]! You really did it!” his sudden outburst startled her, “You broke some of my ribs! I want to make you mine even more”

The sentence sent shivers crawling through her spine. “I will never be yours, or anyone’s for that matter”

“Mhmm...Whose name was engraved on that sword? It certainly wasn’t yours, ást.”

He insinuated something else, something darker. The way his tongue rolled of the sentence, he laced it with venom. Hatred evident.

The response came fueled by raw rage, a blank mind and an adreline energised body. The warrior maiden dashed to him, a battle cry escaping through her lips. Sweatless, Thorkell tipped sideways and stretched out his ankle. You had been so, so predictable.

She tripped over, head diving down to the ground. Just a second before contact, and getting a serious concussion, she covered her head with the shield and bent her elbows and knees; lessening damage with a roll. Still on the ground, she slided her shield on beneath his feet. He fell backwards with a thud and a cloud of dust.

Certain of victory, [Y/N] lifted her shield and brought it down on his stomach.

He caught it, grasped it with his fingers. Before the [h/c] warrior could react, the sound of cracking wood and the sight of tiny splinters filled her senses.

The giant snapped in half the little warrior’s shield, all she had to protect herself from him. As her eyes widened in surprise, she urged to get away. Nonetheless, the little warrior was no match to the giant’s strentgh as he tugged her by the armor’s collar. He pulled her tiny form flush onto his broad chest. Arching his back, he flipped them over.

There she laid, vulnerable beneath him. A thick, muscled arm pressed threatly against the lump in her throat. She thrashed and squirmed, trying to flee his hold. The lack of oxygen did not contribute to her favor, and while she gasped for sweet air - right before all she could see would be pitch black, the man moved his arm away.

[Y/N] coughed as air filled her lungs once more, her mouth opened big and puffing. Thorkell raised his upper-body from her, making the heavy weight that caged her body disappeared. Even so, he kept his limbs around her; each knee beside the corresponding leg and each arm next to its matching shoulder.

She was trapped, unable to do anything in her situation. No matter how much she squirmed or thrashed, the blonde did not flinch at all. A malicious smirk sat on his lips as he admired the display below him.

“I win, [Full Name] the War Maiden!” he exclaimed joyously. Her struggling ceased and she accepted defeat. For a few silent minutes, Thorkell gazed on the pink flesh he had been craving. As well he took notice of a thin, crimson trail that fell down from its corner.

It enticed him furthermore.

There was no warning when he crashed his lips on her. His slim tongue ran over the trail of blood to lap it up. He slided it over her lower lip, asking for entrance. Yet at her denial, he thrust his way through; igniting a passionate kiss in which his lips danced along hers. The man’s tongue explored her mouth with greed, getting at every corner of the wet cavern. If it were a battle, he thought, it would be even more relishing. Hence, he proceeded to wrestle with your tongue.

Various times she tried to push him away, palms using all force they could against his chest. Howbeit, boulder-like, he remained intact and unfazed. Once again she found herself running out of air, subsequent to the harsh tapping on his chest; he broke the steamy kiss.

A string of saliva connected both lips. The petite gasped quietly, trying her best to avoid the giant’s intense eyes. Content and satisfied with his actions, he released the imprisoning hold and stood up.

“Now, onto that pesky sword”, she had completely forgotten; cursing at her own distraction. He turned around and made his way towards your sword, mockingly unaware of the weight he dragged across his leg. She was clinging desperately onto him.

Thorkell grunted, annoyed with her resistance. There could not simply be another name engraved on the sword, least of all another’s man name. Not when she belonged to Thorkell. Its mere existence drew him mad, wishing to hack such scum into a pile of mauled flesh and bones.

He shook the leg she held onto, leaving her behind and spectating while he walked toward the weapon and grabbed it. For a second, she could see a sour frown as he grasped the hilt- then came a wicked, toothy smile.

Utilizing his bare hands, he placed both of them on the steel and began to bend it. He paid no mind to the small cuts that the blade did to his palms, and proceeded to curve the sword in ways that deemed it useless. The weapon became so deformed of its shape, it finally snapped in half. A loud, out-of-pitch clang met her ears and she broke down. Silent tears cascaded down her cheeks as glistening hues glanced at the broken sword.

“What a weak sword,” he scoffed at the pieces and then flung them to who knows where, “oh don’t cry, darling.” Thorkell’s heart tightened with pain at your sorrow, “I’ll get you a new sword. A stronger one. A weapon worth of a grand valkerye, fit for you”.

Somehow, at his statement she cried harder. [Y/N] attempted to pick herself up, nevertheless her shoulders dropped and your form became hunched.

The tall blonde approached excruciatingly slow. He crouched, again, to her level and whispered in her ear “You have to understand, I could not let my future wife use such a puny stick to defend herself. The one I’ll give you will be much more useful.” Her distress did not vanish and in hopes of cheering you up, he lifted her off the ground in a warm, gentle hug.

“It’ll be crafted of the best steel we can find, with a blade so sharp it will cut down whole ships.”

I want it to cut down giants, she thought.

“And we will engrave it our names! Wouldn’t it be a dream come true? Fighting together, you baring my last name...Yes...that’d be a dream come true”

At least your tears halted, be it in terror or not.

———————————————————

A/N: Sorry for the delay! I had a few ideas as to what to write about but they did not seem original from the headcanon I made. Aand, I didn’t know in which point of view to write ‘cuz you said female reader and I thought that ‘You’ would spoil it. Anyways, hope you liked it!

[bangtanblurbs]

love is not over

song: love is not over (full length edition)

first experience: what do we qualify as the first experience? the release in HYYH pt. 1 or the full length release on young forever? with almost a year in between the releases timing does bring about different memories for me. 

the 2015 release of HYYH pt. 1 found me a few weeks after a rather terrifying trip to the emergency room with a diagnosis that would forever change my life - the way i live physically and emotionally. this album was the first album i experienced as ARMY. i found BTS through I NEED U, and quickly devoured the HYYH pt. 1 album in may. love is not over was a track that immediately stuck with me. i remember laying in the grass of my university quad, outside my dorm building, soaking in the sun - putting it on and smelling the spring air. it was tremendously comforting for me. i didn’t immediately look for a lyric translation, i didn’t feel like i needed it. i felt every emotion through the song without even knowing it’s true intended meaning. hindsight - i wish i had looked up those lyrics. 

as for the full edition release in 2016, i was actually working in macau at time time as a researcher. i’d been there for about two weeks when young forever dropped. i have the funniest story about me running through the streets of hong kong, completely lost, in mad pursuit of the physical copy of the album. that is for another day though. (also plenty of fun stories of attending the HYYH epilogue concert in macau - i’ll include my horrible video of love is not over from the concert as well). i was so happy to see an extended version of love is not over on the album - i never could have imagined or anticipated it... it was such a delight. having the extended version was almost like what getting young forever was to bookending the saga of HYYH pt. 1 and HYYH pt. 2. i associate this song heavily with my experiences falling in love with macau, falling in love with myself in a way i hadn’t before, and falling head over heels with the world. a very difference first experience considering the low place i was in with the original release. 

it is important to note that the extended version of the song adds in the rap verses for all of rapline, and offers us a very different conclusion than the original release (which was a source for debate among 2015 army for it’s place in the larger HYYH saga and the interesting *jibberish* at the ending of the song, more on this in the lyrics section). 

feelings: lyrically, love is not over is a breakup song. it’s that kind of song where the singer is begging their significant other not to leave, not to say goodbye. it’s the kind of song you listen to after you get dumped. you’re devastated, the other person seemed perfect... whatever comes next for you, you can’t imagine that person not being a part of it. love becomes nothing but pain in that moment. you lament it. you beg for love to fade and fall away. but... in some ways it’s not. to me, in my view the song is also about one’s relationship with themselves. or at least i see it that way. the song isn’t so much about this one specific girl -- it’s about love in general -- it’s about how they’re upset at the fact that love is always pain for them, it’s goodbye after goodbye, there’s no stability, there’s nothing but pain. i’ll make this point in the lyrics section more clear.

it’s this very point that makes the song resonate with me. at this point in my life, and even now, goodbyes terrify me. i carry the baggage of years of goodbyes, those that were intentional and those that happened for reasons outside of my control. they’re damaging. they make you start to see love as pain. why let others in? why love? what’s the point if it’s all going to end abruptly. you’re left with grief, broken dreams, despair. i’ve been through even more at this point in my life than i had when i first heard love is not over. i should be hardened by the pain i’ve felt over the years. yet - i am not. not completely. i haven’t let bitterness taint me completely. 

strangely, when i listen to love is not over, i can’t help but feel in love - the beat - something about the pure R&B sound of it, it’s the perfect build and smoothness, it sounds like what love would sound like (if in fact emotions could become sound waves). the beat is calming and smooth, never loud, never melancholy. the song makes me feel, once again, comforted - like even though i’m hardened, even though love is pain, even though it has the capacity to hurt, it’s not over - and it’s still an emotion that i long to feel and express to those who inevitably come into my life. the song makes think about how i’ll always have the capacity to love and accept love. even if there’s moments i go through where i want to scream that love is dead - i know it’s not, i know that i’ll always love again. 

personal connection: i probably relate to this song in a way that very few others do. maybe i’m interpreting it differently, or perhaps it’s because for me, the song doesn’t map neatly onto a life experience for me - yet i still love it dearly and it’s brought me immense comfort. it’s not a song i cry to with the thoughts of a past relationship in mind. it’s more about my internal discoveries and my relationship with how i love, express love to others, and how i experience and process rejection and change in my life. 

for me, listening to love is not over brings me to a point where i’ve realize that despite being a hopeless romantic i’m a complete cynic. i’ve taken all the personality tests, i know my star sign... among all of that i can tell you i am deeply idealistic and i live inside my head where i build fantasy worlds and scenarios, where i romance everything. i fall in love with the world around me one-hundred times a day. i’m deeply in love with my friends that i hold dearly close to me. yet, and probably because of these visions of grandeur, i’m often let down. i expect the fantastic, and when things fall short i’m hurt. to make matters worse i’m a deep devotee to the church of self-loathing. i know it’s all my fault that i put so much love and care into everything around me, everyone around me, so when things fail, when inevitably the goodbye comes, i place the blame squarely on my shoulders. 

at the point that the extended version of this song came out i was in the process of falling in love with the very world around me. i was out of the US, experiencing something so new and foreign for me. a place that i quickly took in. a place that changed me, made me so much better. healed me to a point where i could leave a toxic relationship - without fearing that goodbye - the goodbye i feared far more was leaving macau, heading back to the states to start my masters degree. i wasn’t in macau for a long time but that experience, i fell in love so many times. not with people per say, but with feelings, with my surroundings, with a slower way of life. when it came time to say goodbye, it was like breaking up with a new life for me. i felt pain. i almost wished i hadn’t experienced a life where i was so happy - only to go back to a world where i had to confront the reality that was my life. the tatters i’d left back in atlanta.

when i came back home things weren’t as i’d left them. i was returning to do my master’s degree at the same institution where i received my four year undergraduate degree. nobody was there that had previously been. i felt abandoned, i felt alone, the love i had in my heart both for a foreign place that was now out of reach, but also for the friends that my university had previously held, hurt. it was pain. i longed and yearned for those places, times, and people yet again. so much so that i hurt myself in the process. i spent nights alone with my wine bottles and emotions. it took a while to get out of the place i was in, but i did in fact love again - love wasn’t over. i learned to fall in love with new people, fall in love with the old in a new way, fall in love with my dreams. for me, love is not over is almost like the story of learning to love yourself, learning to love how you love. and not just in a romantic way, but how you love more generally. if the song were meant to only speak to intense romantic relationships why would namjoon’s verse allude to the shallowness of the relationship at the heart of the song? for me -- i’m still learning how to get back up when love becomes pain, how to recover from putting love into the world and not always receving it back. love is not over. it’s a process. it’s always with me, even if it’s not always returned. even if it’s not always right. it’s there. 

song breakdown

musically: i would like to make the assertion that the full length edition of love is not over is one of bangtan’s best songs. every member’s performance shines through, it’s a perfect dramatic ballad song but the rap verses perfectly complement the perfection of the vocal line portions of the song. 

the slow and soft start with the piano - it fits the mood of the lyrics perfectly. the way in which the harmonies work together to highlight the emotions of the song. stunning. the introduction of the drum beat at the chorus and the R&B undertrack that runs from the chorus through the rap verses is soothing ~ it picks up the mood completely, infusing the song with hope. the playful beats throughout hoseok’s verse which go in time with “stop” and “dot” it’s complete genius. the melodic backing track that picks up with yoongi’s verse is unexpected but completely complements his increased rap pace. the return to the slow for the bridge as we get the upper-ranges of vocal line... it’s hard to put into words how *perfectly* produced this song is. and -- produced by jungkook. i believe this is his first producing credit, and what a song for it to be. it’s genius in every way. in the outro: version of the song jin is also credited in production and songwriting. it seems that this duo are R&B geniuses along with slow rabbit.

the smooth pick up of the beat - it’s classic R&B at its very very very BEST. the asian style is not something to be skipped as well. there’s clear elements that are echoed throughout the entire HYYH series. the song feels old school, nostalgic for some kind of 90s R&B but with the new twist to it. it fits the mood completely, wishing and longing for something that is now in the past. the song builds around the choruses and in the rap verses, expertly moving the emotions of the song along. much like the song is kind of about the ups and downs of love, the loss and the hope, the ugly and the beauty, the music matches this with it’s changes in tempo and sound. but it’s not overwhelming at all. love is not over is smooth - incredibly so - and it is the kind of song you can put on when you’re down, when you’re up... something about that makes it a complete masterpiece and a never skip.

vocally: i don’t have too much to say here other than love is not over is an OT7 song that showcases the talents of both rap and vocal line beautifully and equally. the balance in the song is one of my very favorite aspects of it. it’s not heavy on either side - we get the raps and we get the beautiful crooning - it’s a masterpiece in songwriting and production. it’s a masterpiece in performance. jungkook’s beautiful higher range is showcased in the opening of the piece and leads off the chorus and is felt throughout with adlibs. taehyung’s velvet lower register often follows jungkook in a beautiful contrast - offering us a soulful sultry sound. then jimin and jin take over and moves the song into the chrous with their beautiful high-registesr.  jimin builds the prechorus with power, which then is sung line by line and beautifully with all four voices complementing one another. vocal line harmonizes with one another throughout the song - offering plenty of stunning ad libs as well. 

rapline brings emotion and pain to the song with slower tempo raps in the second verse, started by namjoon and concluded by hoseok. namjoon’s gentle rap voice delivers a sense of understanding and comfort. meanwhile hoseok follows him up with a soulful rap, playing with the beat and building into a pleading tone at the end of his verse. the final rap verse is then taken by yoongi - he starts off slow and building to a more quick rap pace, adding in more emotion and bleeding in to jungkook’s crisp delivery of a modified bridge/final chrous. both jimin and jungkook provide several heavenly high notes throughout and the piece is ended with the solemn repetition of love is not over. it’s stunning, the vocals for all members truly shine in love is not over - there is no dominance, and the song makes for the perfect showcase of the group’s total talent. 

lyrically: jungkook is listed as the primary songwriter for love is not over, but he was assisted by jin, pdogg, slow rabbit, and rapline contributed their own raps. i think it’s important to note because jungkook was only 18 at the time of the full length release, and even younger likely when he wrote the song. impressive. 

now - onto pulling this masterpiece apart completey. 

the slow and beautiful start to love is not over is grounded in a feeling of time passing, time flowing, as one sits through a “long night” that they can’t seem to escape. offering us both a headspace we’ve all been familiar with - sitting alone in your room late at night pondering life - and a feeling of something quite dark, the long night that going through a hard time can feel like. the lyrics then move to ask “why are you getting farther away? / so far that i can’t reach you?” these lines are clearly calling out to someone that was at one point very close with the speaker - a lover, perhaps a close friend, an emotion, a past identity... the options can be endless. it’s like as in the previous line, time is fading away, everything is going dark, and so is the relationship at the heart of the song. the song then asks “can’t you see me in your eyes anymore?” the line almost begging, what has changed, why am i no longer someone you consider, no longer someone you’d like to have in your space? in your view? it’s crushing. the speaker can sense the relationship and the other pulling away, their once held affections and desire melting away to darkness - to a lack of presence. 

the song then moves into the chorus - almost a chantlike chorus which brings more emphasis and importance to the words. the lines begin: “love is so painful / goodbyes are even more painful.” beautifully outlining that opening oneself up to love, that vulnerability, it hurts - and when loves walks away from you, when the goodbye comes inevitably it’s even more crushing than the initial feelings of fear, anxiety, the nakedness that comes along with falling into love. “i can’t go on if you’re not here / love me, love me / come back to my arms” the speaker begs, pleads, feels completely powerless losing something so precious. when juxtaposed with the title of the song - love is not over - you begin to wonder, perhaps these words are just that? they’re words. there’s ultimately a piece of understanding that love is worth the pain and struggle, there is a hopefulness to this song, but we can’t find it in the chours.

the piece then moves into namjoon’s rap - lyrically powerful and delivered with nothing but raw emotion. he starts off telling an intimate story “you said goodbye to me / every night before i went to bed” emphasizing the closeness of the subject to him -- “i hated that even more than dying / it feels like this night is the end of you and me.” he laments those goodbyes, he’d rather have stayed in those beautiful moments, full of love, full of promise. instead things have gone dark and they’re ending now - the longest night has begun, with a simple “goodbye.” despite having emphasizing the closeness of the subject to him, namjoon then calls into question that “i don’t know you, you didn’t know me” perhaps he says this as an explanation, if they’d truly known one another then they’d have worked things out. made it all okay again. there’d have been no goodbye. it’s the realization that perhaps he’d been in love with someone he’d create in his head all along. he then moves along to say “you’re like hello and goodbye / at my beginning and my end / there” emphasizing that things with the subject had been up and down, all over the place, bliss and pain. this goes back to the statement about love being pain, it’s something the speaker wants desperately, yet it’s causing them pain? thus emphasizing the volatility and absolute confusion that happens to our emotions when they’re tangled up within another.

hoseok’s verse follows with its own beat and style. he emphasizes the separation in the first two lines “everything stopped like our red light / stop” and “nothing more to say, it ends with my tears / dot.” clearly he is drawing a line here, there’s no need for any more interaction between the two. it’s over. which in many ways contrasts with the begging nature of the choruses. which leans me to be inclined to think that this song is more about being in love with the emotion of love, a yearning for the emotion and feeling of love rather than a specific person that didn’t even know you. hoseok continues “i’m not okay i repeat this denial / recite, if you can recite my mind” asking the subject to recognize his emotions, his feelings towards concluding their relationship. “you are my endless love and my girl” the verse finishes out. bringing us back to the true story at hand, but not taking us away from the idea of wanting love for the overall feeling of love rather than for a specific person. 

the chorus repeats once again, then we are brought to yoongi’s verse. the emotion builds both in the sound of the song but also lyrically. hope is infused throughout this verse following strongly after more sad toned lyrics previously. he starts off “i always smile at you / even the love is a tragedy for me.” this line makes me think that the speaker recognizes that even if things are falling apart, there was something beautiful about being able to feel at all. that’s a major theme throughout the HYYH series. feeling, experiencing, not necessarily for the sake of others, but for the sake of exercising your youth, for growing, strengthening and building yourself. this part of life is the perfect time for it. “i always cry after it’s over / farewell even though it’s a comedy for you.” yoongi recognizes that the other party doesn’t carry the same emotions as him, it’s completely the oppostie for them. “yes nothing is everlasting / i live without you even i feel like dying” while not exactly hopeful, this line does contrast with the other lines about not being able to go on - yoongi specifically uses the word “live” he goes on, life goes on, he will continue to experience and it is at this point in the song where the first utterance of the song title is made. “over, over, love is not over” emphasizing that even if this is over, love lives on. it might be pain, it might be an unpleasant emotion, but it continues. finally yoongi ends his verse with a plead “please take me out of this endless maze” signifying that he finds the interactions with this particular type of love, or person, or moment in his life confusing and disorienting. but the thing is, mazes have exits - there’s a change he’ll find his way out and onto whatever is next. 

the chrous repeats one more time before the song in concluded with the beautiful chants of “love is not over, over, over” flipping the way in which yoongi uttered the line - ending with the word over. offering hope to the listener. the chant urging the speaker to believe their own words. there is a change, love is not over. it will happen again and again - “over and over” as the lyrics provide through the repetition of the lyrics. it’s understated but it’s a powerful message of hope, cycles, and avoidance of a true end. 

performance: you can easily find live performances of love is not over, most notably from the EPILOGUE in JAPAN concert. i also attended the HYYH EPILOGUE concert, but in macau back in 2016. i was really fortunate to experience love is not over performed live. i’ve uploaded the video here for you all the enjoy. please don’t mind any screaming you hear, i was clearly beside myself. i remember the emotions i felt hearing the song live - the vocals were pristine, the emotion in each voice was on display, the stripped down live band backing was beautiful. everything about the performance screamed emotion.

all seven bangtan members were seated on stools, dressed in black jeans and white blouses. behind the members a beautiful HYYH logo was lit up with the signature chain-link fence print. the beautiful understated nature of the performance amongst a sea of high-energy performances including baepsae, save me, I NEED U, and fire... the contrast was enough to make every ARMY at the show completely transfixed. did i cry? maybe. did i cry with a strange girl i’d met off of twitter only hours earlier? ...okay i’ll be honest - i really did. the song is powerful just as a track on an album, but experiencing it live, or even just watching the performance on youtube -- it’s powerful. the talents of these men are on full display, both rap and vocal line are able to highlight their abilities beautifully. 

tl;dr: love is not over is beautiful. it’s an earlier bangtan song, and it’s earned its place as a complete classic R&B bop. the sounds of each member’s voice, the lyrics, they’re melodic and soothing. the song is about heartbreak, but the interpretations in the context of the greater HYYH saga make it hopeful. love is something we often associate with youth. falling in love with others, ourselves, and our world - it can be painful... especially when we’re young and we realize that things aren’t always as we percieve them to be. but it’s all a part of learning. we will love again, and love isn’t over. it’s a cycle. 

[misc-headcanons]

NS.FW Kid/OC Scenario: The Old-Fashioned Way

"Remind me again why I can't just use my Devil Fruit to make us both orgasm instantaneously?" Minerva crossed her arms while she looked up at Kid from his bed. He was at the door to his quarters, locking it to prevent any of his other crewmates from interrupting him--well, interrupting the two of them. 

The first time he'd tried to make a move on Minerva, she'd returned his sloppy kiss and used her Devil Fruit to stimulate his brain as she ran her fingers through his hair; just as he'd started to unbuckle his belt, he'd felt an orgasm jolt through his body out of nowhere, causing him to fall back and nearly black out from the sudden-yet-pleasurable shock. When he managed to form words again and ask what the hell she did, she simply shrugged. "I figured we could save time if I simply gave you an orgasm now," she'd replied matter-of-factly. "Why spend a long time trying to get to a result that I can give you instantly?"

Kid had stared at her, confused. He'd appreciated how efficient she was as a crewmate, but...come on, part of the fun in fucking was the buildup to it! Yanking clothes off each other, leaving all sorts of marks on each other, making her voice get louder and louder as she begged for him to make her cum…

From then on, any time he'd tried to sleep with her, she'd cut him off by making him cum instantly using her Devil Fruit and then continuing about her business. After a month of this, he'd decided he'd had enough and had pulled her into his quarters, leading to where we are now.

Kid strode over to her and threw his coat off onto the floor before scooping her up in his arms. "Because," he insisted, kissing her neck as she shivered and tried to stifle the pleasurable sigh coming from her lips. "I'm sick of cumming in my pants all the time when you do that weird brain thing. And I wanna show you how fun fucking the old-fashioned way can be." 

Minerva raised an eyebrow as he tossed his metal arm aside on top of his coat. "Eustass, you're going to scuff your prosthetic if you toss it so carelessly," she scolded. His remaining hand traveled lower and lower to cup her backside. "How many times have I--"

Kid cut her off with a rough kiss that muffled her surprised squeak and the moan that came afterwards. Minerva wondered if all embraces between couples were so primal as his tongue snaked around her mouth; sometimes it felt like he was trying to eat her face whenever he kissed her, and this time was no different. When he pulled away to bite at her neck and collarbone, she felt lightheaded and laced her fingers through his hair. As nice as this felt, she didn't want to spend time doing something so "frivolous" when she could be doing something more productive on the ship. 

Just as she was about to use her Fruit, Kid swiftly pinned her arms above her head and towered over her. He used his own Devil Fruit to keep her pinned with his prosthetic metal arm while his other hand tilted her head up to face him. He frowned at her disapprovingly. "Oi, what did I just say? No brain shit this time," he said. "Never thought I'd have a chick get me to say this, but I actually want to take it slow." 

Minerva rolled her eyes, but there was a small curious smile that turned up the corners of her lips. Truth be told, she'd never done this the old-fashioned way before; it would be interesting to explore something new, even if she wasn't so used to learning something in such a "hands-on" way. She relaxed her arms and looked up at Kid. "Alright, alright," she conceded. She shifted her weight and pursed her lips. "But if we're doing this, I want to be the one to take off my clothes. Knowing you, you'd just rip them off."

Kid smirked and released her arms and kissed her neck again, and Minerva bit her lower lip as he traveled down to her chest. She reached down and removed her blouse, revealing a simple dark bra underneath. He cupped one of her breasts and felt her breath hitch as her nipple hardened through the fabric. "You know me pretty well," he teased. Before Minerva realized what he meant, he hooked a few fingers underneath the center of her bra and easily tore it, exposing her bare breasts.

Minerva's mouth dropped and she glared up at him while smacking one of his shoulders. "I specifically told you not to tear my clothes, you brute--Ah!"

Kid cut her off when his tongue swirled around one of her pert nipples, and she moaned at a higher pitch than before. His other hand lazily kneaded her other breast, and he felt her hips rise up a bit as she rocked against him. "You say I'm a brute like it's a bad thing," he said with a smirk. He quickly undid his pants and Minerva followed suit by tossing her ruined bra aside and shimmying off her shorts, leaving her in a pair of noticeably damp underwear. She glanced at the tent in Kid's boxers and her face flushed as he palmed himself a bit before leaning down to prod at her underwear with his fingers. "See? I told ya this was better," he said smugly. He pulled her undergarments aside, and when he pushed one of his calloused fingers inside of her, she gasped and sighed. Her own hands ghosted over her breasts as Kid explored her with his fingers, and her hips rocked back and forth.

"Ah, Eu-Eustass," she murmured, clenching her thighs in anticipation every time his fingers curled and grazed a particularly velvety spot inside of her. She knew enough about anatomy to realize just where he was focusing, and one of her hands trailed down to her clitoris to add even more stimulation. "Right there, p-please…"

Kid smirked and nudged her hand aside, and she whined in frustration. Why would he not want her to focus there? When he quickly leaned his head down to circle her sensitive button of flesh with his tongue, she forgot any sense of annoyance or indignation as she bucked her hips; her own strokes had been soft and feather-light, and the sudden roughness of his tongue against her left her seeing stars. Normally he wouldn't care about getting a lover "warmed-up" before fucking them, but...Minnie was different. She wasn't a fuckbuddy, and the whole point of this was to show her how satisfying sex could be when you took some time. 

Even if his oral technique was sloppy and all over the place, he definitely didn't hear any complaints from Minerva. She'd used her Devil Fruit on herself countless times before when she needed to relieve some stress, and was familiar with the burst of pressure and pleasure that came with an orgasm. Still, this newfound sense of pleasure bubbling up inside of her was new; she'd experienced a climax before, but this sense of buildup and tension coiling in her was brand new. Even if it was taking longer to reach that inevitable conclusion, these new sensations left her breathless as she begged for him to keep going.

As he pumped three of his fingers inside of her while his tongue swirled around her clit, she snaked her fingers into his hair and dug her nails into his scalp. The sensation made him moan against her, and her eyes rolled back slightly. "Eustass," she panted, "I'm s-so close to...Ah, please, keep...Oh, Eustass…"

For someone who was normally so eloquent, she was having trouble stringing a full sentence together. Kid chuckled to himself and slowly removed his fingers from her aching cunt. Minerva let out a desperate shiver, and her already-warm cheeks felt even hotter when Kid wiped her juices off of his chin before licking his hand clean, refusing to break eye contact with her. Normally she would have been embarrassed at such a shameless display of lewdness, but all she could think about now was how empty she felt without his hand inside of her. She bucked her hips impatiently. "Eustass, please," she sobbed, reaching up to grip his hand and bring it back down to between her legs. 

Kid slid off his boxers, and Minerva's eyes widened as she looked down at his cock for the first time. It was a bit odd that she'd made him climax so many times in the past without ever seeing a glimpse of it, and she hadn't realized just how large it was. "Y'know, usually I hate when ya call me 'Eustass' instead of Kid like everyone else," he muttered with a small devilish smile. She looked up eagerly at Kid, and as he lined himself up with her entrance she felt the head twitch slightly. "But hearing ya say it like that isn't as annoying as it usually is." He leaned down to kiss her, and she gasped through her nose as she tasted herself lingering on Kid's tongue. He stroked himself as he kissed her, wanting as much lubrication as possible to avoid making her hurt too much when he finally entered her. Keeping himself from just shoving his dick inside of her was torture, and he growled impatiently a bit as he tried to restrain himself; self-control wasnt really in his nature, but he knew it'd be worth it in the end. 

Minerva wrapped her arms around him to pull him closer, and she let out a small shivery giggle. "If it bothers you so much, we c-could compromise then," she teased, stroking his back with her fingers. "Why don't I call you...Captain?"

Kid stared down at her, and that dam inside of him broke the moment he heard her call him 'Captain'. He entered her with one slam of his hips, and Minerva gasped sharply before moaning at this newfound sense of fullness. His pace was fast and rough, and to his surprise she wasn't asking him to slow down or be a bit more gentle; in fact, she was begging him to keep going. She gripped the back of his head with one hand and dug her nails into his shoulder with the other, and when he grabbed her hips just as harshly he felt her walls tighten around him. He left a series of bites and harsh bruising kisses on her neck and collarbone, and he relished in how her moans grew louder and higher. 

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he growled, the head of his cock brushing against her cervix. Minerva hiked her legs around his waist, desperate for Kid to hit that particular spot inside her over and over again. As he thrusted into her at this new angle, he looked down at her expression. She was normally so cool and composed, but now...now, she was a mess. Her lips were parted as she panted and moaned every time he hit that sweet spot inside of her, unable to talk or even think about anything but the pressure building inside of her. Her eyes crossed a bit every time his cock met her cervix, and a trickle of her (or was it Kid's?) saliva fell down one of her cheeks. Her purple hair, normally neat and tidy in a ponytail, fanned out behind her and stuck to her forehead with a thin layer of sweat. 

Minerva managed to realize in her cloudy haze that Kid was looking down at her, and the corners of her open mouth turned up into a small smile. Normally she'd be mortified to be seen in such a state, but with how good she felt right now, she didn't care at all about how foolish she might have looked right now. Her chest rose and fell as Kid's pace quickened, and she rocked against him to match his speed. "Mmm, Eust--ah, C-Cap...t-tain…" She blushed deeper as she said the 'wrong' name once again. "S-sorr--ah, C-captain…"

Kid used his Devil Fruit to reattach his prosthetic arm and push her thighs forward until he had her in a mating press, and he felt her walls get even tighter around his cock. He left another series of bruising kisses and hickeys on her other shoulder. "Call me whatever you fuckin' want, Minnie," he groaned, feeling himself getting closer and closer to cumming. "Fuck, fuck, you're so fuckin'..."

As he feverishly pounded into her over and over, she raked her nails against his skin and he made sure to look at her as he felt her getting closer to her own climax. "Eustass," she moaned, "I...I…" He slammed his hips against her as fast as he could, and he felt her tighten and squeeze around his cock as her voice became more frantic. "Eustass, y-yes, I'm about t-to--Oh, yes, Eustass, yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyes--Ah, fuck, Eustass~!"

He groaned loudly as he came inside of her, continuing to fuck her through her climax and his. A wave of pleasure roared in his ears and when it had finally subsided, replacing the sound of his own heartbeat with Minerva's heavy breathing and incoherent murmuring, he buried himself to the hilt inside of her and looked down at her again. Her chest rose and fell as she panted, and her eyes were half-lidded. Her face was flushed and radiated warmth like the rest of her body, and he could feel her hands trembling on his head and shoulders. 

With his cock still inside of her, he guided her legs back down onto the bed and rested his head in the crook of her neck for a while. He sighed contentedly, almost purring against her. Minerva shifted around a bit underneath him, and bit her lip when she felt a small amount of Kid's seed drip out of her around his softening cock. "Er...Eustass…"

"Mmm?"

"Why haven't you...er...pulled out of me yet?" She wasn't used to having sex like this, and had no idea about what was typically done afterwards. Her anatomy and biology textbooks hadn't mentioned anything about what was typically done post-coitus. 

"Feels good," Kid muttered. He nuzzled her neck, and she let out a small sigh of agreement. He felt his eyelids lower a bit, and he struggled to stay awake; he tended to fall asleep immediately after sex, but as nice as she felt around him, he didn't want to fall asleep while he was still inside her. A few minutes of silence later, he slowly slid himself out of her. Minerva's eyelids fluttered and she let out a small moan as she felt more of his seed trickle out of her now that she wasn't completely stuffed. 

Kid groggily reached up with his arm and held her against him as he lay on his back, and Minerva rested her head on his chest. As he fell asleep, he absentmindedly stroked her hip and smirked. "See? This is way more fun than your brain thing," he said smugly.

Minerva let out a small "Mmm" to agree with him. "I admit, it has its...advantages," she said slowly. She rested one of her hands on Kid's. "But now I'm curious to see what would happen if we tried combining both methods." She cuddled up to him and smiled with her eyes closed. "I wonder what would happen if I made the two of us climax like this over and over in a short span of time while you're still inside me…"

The thought of that alone made Kid's cock instantly perk up a bit, and Minerva felt it poke against her backside. "Buuut, I'll save that for another time," she said with a smile. "We're both a bit too worn out for some of the experiments I have in mind."

Kid heard her breaths become more and more heavy, and so did his eyelids as he fell asleep with a small grin on his face. If this is what it felt like to fuck her before these 'experiments' of her started, he was more than happy to help out with her research.

[chidoroki]

Would any of TPN kids kill another human?

I first had this idea back with ch160 but didn't give it that much thought. That has changed ever since the kids raided Grace Field House. More demons, more plot twists, more guns. As my worries constantly grew, so did the amount of human enemies; Peter Ratri, his men, Isabella, the mothers and sisters. While a human enemy isn't anything new (Isabella & Krone at Grace Field and Andrew & his men back at B06-32), they are far less common than all the demons we've encountered up til this point. The children have no trouble hurting or killing demons when they've come across them. Humans, however, are very different. In most cases, the kids have survived by escaping, so harming another human has rarely crossed their minds. With everyone now stranded on the Grace Field plantation, their usual tactic won't be possible. Sure, the reforged promised will (probably) allow the kids to finally escape, but being trapped on a dangerous plantation with a group of highly intelligent and armed humans in the meantime does make you a bit anxious.

Of course, my worries have lessened with recent chapters. Isabella & her ladies are now helping the children, which is huge. Peter's followers are still around (i assume?) but don’t pose much a threat. The major concern that remains is Peter himself, especially with his most recent scheme to kill our best girl. We know he has no issue with pulling off such an act, but what about Emma?

I've seen people get really excited about these panels, hoping that Emma would shoot the bastard. While I fully support the idea of this boy getting the pain he so rightfully deserves, I don't think he'll get it at this moment. As I've said, humans are different. The kids shooting a demon? No problem. Killing one? Absolutely. Shooting another human? Rare. Actually killing a human? Unheard of. The series has given us glimpses of murder in the past (the shelter raid and Andrew) so expecting it again wouldn’t be too farfetched. I'm not saying there will definitely be a moment where in happens in the near future, but if there would be, who do I believe would be capable of committing such an act? Allow me to ramble..

Emma: No. This is the girl who has trouble killing demons. Yes, she's fully capable of doing so in order to defend herself and her family, but she doesn't normally wish death upon anyone, or anything (events at Goldy Pond being exceptions). She can be reckless but killing an actual person just wouldn't fit her character. If it had to be done, she would most likely regret it immediately. Fear of making wrong decisions tend to weigh heavily in her mind. In this scenario with Peter, I have no doubt she'll try to talk him and change his heart. We've seen her talk-no-jutsu Yuugo and Norman, even attempted to do so with other villains such as Lewis and Andrew. If she were to fire her weapon here, it would probably be in self-defense and would only cause injury, but not kill. (unless, something happens that makes her completely snap)

Don, Gilda & the Grace Field kids: No. Most of them are far too young. Don may have the physical strength but I believe he avoids killing if it's possible, fancying the run away tactic more (ch138). I don’t recall Gilda ever killing a demon herself.. or shooting an arrow or gun. Correct me if I’m wrong.

Norman: No...? Like Gilda, I have yet to see this boy use the gun he's been given. That's not to say he isn't capable though. He miraculously escaped Lambda somehow, right? He also had absolutely no doubts when ordering a civil war, killing the royals and the extinction of the demons. He isn't against the idea of killing or having the blood on his hands (figuratively and literally), however the deed has never been done by his own hands. He had his Lambda crew and a ton of poison for that. If the series wishes to throw me through a loop and surprise me, then go for it.

The Lambda crew: Yes but no. These kids have so much pride in their power that killing demons is seen as a simple task. Hell, some of them even enjoy it. Their animosity towards such creatures is well known, and I believe they might hold such feelings towards the humans who experimented on them as well. If the opportunity arises, they could pull it off. The issue is that they all follow Norman's command. It's rare they don't follow his orders. Not only that, but.. aren’t they all like seriously injured right now? Cislo, Barbara and Zazie from their fight against the Queen and Vincent was recently shot at too. Hayato seems like too pure of a boy to do such a thing, same thing with Jin.. wherever he is.

Oliver & the Goldy Pond kids: Yes and no. Remember how I said it was rare for one of the kids to shoot another human? Well that occasion belongs to Oliver, back when he shot Andrew's shoulder and hand with wonderful accuracy. Taking it a step further to actually kill someone? I think he would be the only one out of the Goldy Pond group to commit to that, especially after holding a gun to Peter's head during that whole “you’re not our father” nonsense. I can imagine any of the others following Oliver's lead and cause harm to another human, but that's as far as it goes. Well, at least the half of them that aren’t being kept safe in the storage room at the moment. I have my doubts, but if any of them did shoot to kill, I would only be mildly surprised.

Ayshe: Yes. Humans killed her demon father figure. It's natural that she wants to kill them in return and get some sort of revenge. She claimed she could never forgive them. Granted, those humans were Norman and his crew and they're now all working together during the Grace Field raid, but she could still hold a grudge. Honestly, I'll be all for it. Having her kill a human (preferably Peter) in order to feel that satisfaction and to allow herself to let go of that hatred would be nice. Maybe she has already, idk, she doesn't say much. I just love her and want to see her get more attention.

Ray: Yes. Ray is the reason why I kept thinking so much about this idea. Back when ch160 released, we saw just how angry he is at the Ratri clan for being the sole reason why all of this suffering even started. Suffering that lead everyone around him to live such harsh lives and take the lives of people he cared about. I couldn't help but notice the fury in his eyes. Such an intense look that we've seen several times before.

That look usually surfaces whenever someone's life is at risk. He showed that same animosity after Lewis stabbed Emma, and we know for a fact that Ray had full intentions to kill in that moment. Granted, Lewis is a demon and killing one is reasonable, but that shows us how merciless he can be towards an enemy (something not all the Grace Field kids are capable of) and just how important those people are to him.

When emotions are running high, we see just how strong his desire is to protect his family, no matter what it takes. He never really dismisses the idea during a life and death situation, whether the threat is a demon or another human.

It shouldn't be too surprising. Like Ayshe, Ray has shown us his hatred towards certain humans for a long time and the idea of killing them has never been a foreign concept to him. It may be subtle, but it's there. We can go back as far as the first arc if we wish to see it.

He knows how unethical the act is and how serious one must be to commit to it. He understands that such a concept would be way too hard for most of the children to carry out, Emma included. In order to achieve safety and happiness for his family, he'll protect them not only from a physical threat but from doing something they might regret and hurting themselves mentally & emotionally.

He was once so close too. I don't mean a simple injury either, I mean a full on headshot. Dead. One-hit KO. He finally had the resolve to throw all moral aside in order to save an innocent life, because he would rather deal with such a trivial burden that would only affect his sanity than have any more casualties in his family that would ultimately weigh everyone down. Ah, if only it weren’t for that wild demon..

Some might think that one of the kids killing another human may be stepping over the line, but if any of them had the chance in a dire situation, my bet would be on Ray. He shares that hatred towards certain humans like Ayshe. He's shown his hostile side like the Lambda crew, as well as Emma on occasion. Speaking of our girl, the two of them are both highly protective of their family. While he may not be as reckless as she is, he still had his moments. From his suicide attempt, to using himself at bait in the demon forest. He snuck into a demon hunting ground in order to save our best girl and eventually fight alongside her and others against one of the best villains I've seen. He chose to escort a large group of children to safety, knowing he would be on edge for three weeks constantly worrying about Emma's condition, instead of making the quick trip back with Yuugo because he knew how important it was to her that those kids, new members of their family, remained safe and feel what true freedom is. He also journeyed to the Seven Walls knowing full well there would be a low chance of returning or even making a new promise. He took all of those chances so others could survive and have a better future. (am i giving him too much credit? idc i love him) He's willing to do so much for his family and I'm so proud of him. So if Ray were to pull the trigger now, when his family is face to face with the savage man who caused his loved ones to suffer their entire lives, I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest.

Now originally, my thoughts stopped there, but with the return of a certain someone.. I shall add one more possibility.

Isabella: Yes. Please. Having her own the shot that claims Peter's life would grant me much happiness. It would be the best payback for not only having her suffer, but her wonderful children as well. I feel like it would be an act of kindness (i guess thats what i'll call it?) similar to Yuugo and Lucas agreeing that they alone should shoulder that heavy burden of dealing with Andrew's men in the shelter while the kids escaped.

Of course I could've just been rambling for no reason at all because who know if anyone is even going to actually kill someone? If the moment ever comes, I can imagine Emma trying to talk them out of pulling the trigger, too. So, there we go. These thoughts have been whirling around my mind for weeks but now I'm free.