#Which I maintain they should have waited a few years on bc that shit was traumatizing

[astrellium]

In fifth grade we had lessons on Greek and Latin roots that we'd like, go through a unit in a book from every week, alongside grammar lessons and shit like that

We also read a book about the nastiest, deadliest diseases in the world

So I can bumblefuck my way through reading things written in Romance languages pretty well

Still not super clear on how leprosy works, though

[cannibalisticskittles]

got home a little after 1:00 and then launched into updating my sub plans bc. no way am i going to be good to work lmao. i normally wake up at 6 and it's 2:39 right now, even if emotionally i'm keeping it together, i will be so sleep deprived as to be less than useless

so. the deal with tonight. i'm working some shit out here and it's the gory details so. you've been warned.

my parents' neighborhood have a christmas celebration each year and they hire someone w/ a horse-drawn carriage; i think they work at one of the ranches nearby. buncha family came up for that.

i came back to the house earlier. i swap some laundry. i come downstairs and my dad is carrying my grandma onto the couch. surprising for several reasons; they had stayed back to ride the carriage and they shouldn't be back yet and... why is she being carried.

he's calling her name. she is... not responding. but he says "we need the inhaler" and leaves her with my grandpa so i think oh damn, okay, an asthma attack. the inhaler is found. but he's still calling her name trying to get her respond. she is... not responding. he says it sounds like she's maybe got something in her mouth or is trying to spit something up. at this point i have my phone out and i am mentally preparing to call emergency services. i figure he will tell us if/when that's needed but for now he seems to not think that's necessary.

...and then after a bit it becomes apparent that maybe he's not in a state to make that call. someone notes that my grandmother does not appear to be breathing at all now. "we should call," I say. "you or me?" to my mother. she doesn't know what to do; she's never called. i have; I call. my sister and her friend come down at that moment. my sister's friend is immediately leaping to help and checking her breathing/identifying a pulse.

emergency services says, based on my description, to start on cpr. i tell them this. my father is still trying to get grandma to respond. she's drooling out spit now. i repeat that cpr should be started. he's focused on trying to get her to spit out whatever he feels is in her mouth. i am trying not to scare him but if cpr is needed -- and it is -- then it is needed NOW. i repeat myself again and my sister's friend also urges this. this time, he listens, mostly bc of the friend i think, who gently shifts my grandma to her and then quickly takes her fully into her arms and sets her on the floor. i am cpr certified but my arm strength is fucking weak; in the trainings I've done, i can only maintain sufficient depth for a short period of time. even so, i am trying to answer questions over the phone while preparing to do compressions -- but the friend jumps into them

they are fucking flawless. perfect technique. enough that I immediately know that I can shift my full focus back to the phone call because she's doing everything exactly right. tho it's hard to shift my FULL focus; grandma is vomiting listlessly onto the carpet; i have to tell my dad to turn her head to the side bc the friend is putting her energy into those compressions

paramedics get there fast. they're there within 4 minutes of the phone call. i realize that we have a whole host of family members who went on that carriage who will be coming back soon so go to check in on that as there's nothing more I can do but be in the way inside

unfortunately people are already coming back. I spend some time outside, gently explaining to both teen siblings, one at a time, "grandma isn't breathing. paramedics are here. it's your choice to go inside or not but it might be a scary sight." and then fielding questions from the rest

it's probably soon after that that she's wheeled out but it felt like a long time. couldn't have been more than 5 minutes later tho.

then I spend a few hours with my teen siblings. waiting for further word from my parents. my sister gets a text that is not a sure sign of bad things..... but probably is. she goes upstairs to "put the kids to bed" which is mostly just saying "hey. stop. go to bed. you have school. turn your lights off. seriously stop playing for a while, go to bed" and then she hollers for me to come up. it's obvious what comes next but. yeah. grandma has a DNR on file which we didn't know about. grandpa makes the decision to honor her wishes. up to us if we want to be there. up to the teen sibs too.

sister wants to be the one to break the news to them. both think it's too hard to be there. sister and i decide yes we will go. even if not there for the moment, we will be near.

god. she looked. god.

i'm used to seeing people all tubed up. my cousin got the full course of tubes in her time in the hospital. more, even. but god it's a hard sight to see.

she never regained consciousness. by all accounts, she was likely not in pain. and when they pulled the tubes she breathed for a bit but passed quickly after, within minutes.

just. jesus. we don't even know what happened. i mean, she was 74. she semi-recently battled cancer. we knew it was coming. but like this? so sudden? walking and chattering and drinking cocoa and then unresponsive in her son's arms? vomiting in unconsciousness as her sternum is broken from chest compressions?

it's been a hard night. i compartmentalize. i am. okay. there was some grief. there will be grief again. but i struggle to conceptualize death and it never quite feels real to me so it will be. well. not a fully linear path out of this.

i didn't even say hi to her beforehand. i was in the shower when she got there and then she left to go to the carriages before i did, and then we weren't in the same group. jesus.

[clarenecessities]

1/14/2023

im trying not to be biased bc like i waited 7 months without a response from gbagok & i only DMed him once & i was v patient despite what my friends frequently describe as “stalker” instincts (i maintain that it’s not my fault so many people have such publicly available addresses & it’s not like i’m going there or using streetview or something, it just shows up! blame google!) BUT.

toyguru is bugging the shit out of me. like i am trying to think kind thoughts here because he has information i want very badly but he is just being kind of a douchebag. straight up when he took a while to respond to my email i was like okay cool, that’s fine, i will settle in for the long haul, but then he did respond saying he’d be posting videos about it “soon”. when is soon. he was posting daily videos at the time & he’s since dropped off to 5 a week, but like?? surely information which ONLY he holds, literally only he, would give him more fucking views than an unedited, 8 minute ‘how minimum order quantity works with action figures’ video. who is going to CLICK on that scott. it is a one sentence answer on the first fucking page of google!

okay deep breath. deep breath i’m cool.

anyway. he posted this big clickbaity video yesterday about how Origins is cancelled & he has it from three inside sources blah blah blah and that’s, obviously, had a surge in views. but now he’s posted a response video bc people are like “why should we believe your uncited and unverifiable claims” and i guess god forbid he wait until monday to say “wait and see”

what if he dies? what if he just fucking dies and this information dies with him? what if somebody who’s mad he’s talking shit about an action figure line goes to his EXTRA publicly available address (he never shuts up about his town and hangouts) and stabs him or some shit and i never get to know how the fuck i’m supposed to pronounce c’yra

god it’s just like. jesus christ. i would rather he never answered my email. i was already watching his youtube channel, but now i just feel like he’s trying to keep me on the hook for something, the same way he did to the he-fans when he worked on MOTUC. like okay man great i’m on your channel. i’m not going to watch any of this shit, especially the NFT toy commercial? (#girl really) your titles are always too long & get cut off--literally the only videos i can see the full title of are the ‘learn hieroglyphics’ ones (and btw, there are faster and easier ways to do that than one 10 minute video at a time), you repeat topics constantly, and your MOTUC “director’s commentary” are--

wait actually. hang on a minute. i need to look something up.

holy shit they’re in order. okay. okay.

he’s doing one figure a week, right? last few were entrapta, flutterina, NA skeletor, and madam razz. which were all released aug/sept of 2014. and he left MOTUC in october of 2014.

could... is it that easy? is he just going to run out of figures in--well he probably worked on the whole year so--11 weeks (or 4 if i’m real lucky)?

eleven weeks. i could wait eleven weeks. assuming that’s when he’d start the new series? god but catra was the 32nd fucking figure is he going to do one at a time and drag this shit out for three years? it wouldn’t exactly be out of character and like i wouldn’t go to north carolina for this but somebody is going to stab him at that rate

[tossawary]

I need to know more about “SVSSS - Baby Brother Liu Qingge” bc I love tiny and very deadly baby LQG

I have a 3k-ish Shang Qinghua POV that was supposed to be the introduction to this fic concept! So... ah... baby Liu Qingge does not appear in this, but you can see the setup for how an 8yo-ish Liu Qingge was supposed to be introduced. My hope is that this will someday become a "Shang Qinghua and Shen Jiu go on a mission with Baby Brother Liu Qingge" one shot.

-cut-

Shang Qinghua didn't really have the words to describe what it was like having Proud Immortal Demon Way's characters finally come into his second life.

He didn't have the words to describe a lot of his transmigration experience, honestly! His words had described a lot of this world already, haha, hadn't they? Sometimes a person just had to put up with it and keep going.

And then excuse himself later to go scream into a pillow! Many times!

At first, life was just him in a body that didn't fit and strange memories that slipped between his fingers like sand. His memories of a past life had settled eventually, the System finally came fully online, and his relationship with his second family was fully fucked forever. That was fine, though! That was fine! With some unsolicited prodding from his System, he left to go seek his fortune soon enough and he never had to talk to his character's birth parents or siblings again.

But Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had never said much of anything about Shang Qinghua’s family or home village, besides saying that the man had dreamed of more than his mediocre origins, so everything had been unfamiliar and original and real. Getting to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, which he had described in great detail, was a real headfuck. There were no words for the experience of recognizing things that he’d written in another life.

He saw the glistening rainbow bridge and the intimidating sect entrance and the majestic meeting hall on Qiong Ding, and he nearly screamed. He definitely squawked. His vision got really fuzzy for a minute there and he had to sit down on the ground before he fell over. What the fuck?! What the fuck?! He’d made a world! The System had really made a world out of his web-novel! He was really stuck in Proud Immortal Demon Way!

There were upsides and downsides to joining Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Downsides included: the hard training, the harder workload, the dangerous missions, the disrespect towards An Ding Peak, and being surrounded by arrogant and foolish teenagers looking to look down on someone. It was really something else to look some of them in the eye and think, "Bro, I don’t know your name, but you kind of owe your existence to me. Could you stop being such a fucking asshole about leaving your chores for me to do?! Respect your father!"

Upsides included: actually becoming a cultivator (pretty cool, even though the work of cultivation sucked more often than not), better living accommodations and food, and actually getting to see some of the cooler places, plants, monsters, and magic that were a part of his world. Sure, carting a monster corpse brought in by Bai Zhan Peak to Xi Jiao Peak for butchering was smelly and heavy and altogether miserable, but seeing an impossible animal was still kind of incredible. If this unwilling Shang Qinghua could stop being pushed around and stepped on long enough to appreciate the upsides, he’d really appreciate it!

It was interesting and infuriating to log the differences between what he’d imagined, what he’d written, and what the System had created. What sort of author described every single object in every single room? Who had time for that? Who wanted to read that? The System had filled in all the living details of An Ding Peak - the Leisure Houses, the training grounds, the storehouses, the warehouses, the kitchens, the lesson halls, the leisure gardens, the farming fields, the livestock fields, the stables, the cart lot, the water supply, the sewage systems, and so on - so that people could actually live here. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky as an author had done many things worthy of complaint and criticism, but wasting his readers’ time with sewage systems was not one of them!

The System had also filled in all the little details and decorations - the paintings on the walls of sect history, the detailing on the rooftops supposedly offering protections from dream demons, the chipped and faded paint of old storehouses that disciples would be tasked with replacing, the statues in the fields to scare off scavengers, the carvings on the doors meant to reduce resentful energy, the childish etchings of bored students the surface of the lesson hall desks, the old bench where the An Ding Peak Lord liked to sit and eat flatcakes - so that it really seemed like people had built this place and maintained it and added to it for generations.

Shang Qinghua had his quibbles here and there. Sometimes the System had made choices that he objected to! He would have done it differently if it had asked him, the author, to contribute. He really felt as though the System should have asked him to clarify the plot holes and the gaps in detail, instead of choosing precedence randomly or building off random implications taken way too literally.

Sometimes he found out that the System had built things out of throwaway lines that Shang Qinghua himself had completely forgotten about. It turned out that Ku Xing Peak made a lot of purification tools and containment vessels because Airplane had offhandedly mentioned that this was their specialty, and now Shang Qinghua had to cart around delicate ceramics to be sold to city merchants or other cultivation sects. He never would have dared to write that if he’d known that it would one day in another life be his job to do things like take inventory and chase down signatures for successful deliveries.

Places, items, and creatures were one thing, but logging the differences between the people he met and the characters he’d created was something else. At first it was okay, because he was surrounded by nameless An Ding Peak nobodies - his fellow disciples, their teachers, the hardworking managers and merchants, even the peak lord - none of them had ever mattered in Proud Immortal Demon Way. If Airplane had been the one to name any of them, he didn’t recognize the names or remember them.

Then he met Yue Qingyuan.

Wow, it was a worse headfuck than first arriving at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when Shang Qinghua finally realized that this was the young version of one of his actual characters. It took him a minute. As a lowly outer disciple, Shang Qinghua hadn’t received “Qinghua” as a name yet (his name was Houhua, not that anyone ever used it) and the future Yue Qingyuan was still called Yue Qi.

Shang Qinghua was fourteen at the time. Yue Qingyuan must have been around the same age, so he didn’t strike the tall and handsome figure of the sect leader Airplane had described. The boy was broad, but actually a little short. He had freckles. He had acne.

But he also had a warm smile that seemed to go all the way to his eyes when he offered to give Shang Qinghua directions to the right office on Qiong Ding. He had a steady hand when he helped Shang Qinghua up, after the An Ding disciple had suddenly tripped over nothing upon being introduced. Yue Qingyuan - Yue Qi - walked him to the right office and did his best to make small talk, friendly and kind even though Shang Qinghua was having difficulty stringing more than a few words together in his shock.

Even then, it was obvious that the boy was developing the calm surety and the social charm that would make him a greatly admired sect leader someday! It was all Shang Qinghua could do not to blurt out: “Holy shit, you’re REAL?!” Which would be closely followed by: “Hey, is Shen Qingqiu really real too?!” And then maybe closely followed by: “FUCK!!!”

As the years went by, Shang Qinghua met more of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s characters, and it was weird every time. None of them were exactly like he was expecting. He kept expecting… well… he kept expecting them to look like the fanart, like flawless character models, more or less. Instead, he kept getting… people.

Wei Qingwei, head disciple of the sword-focused Wan Jian Peak, was also shorter than he was expecting, kind of stout, with a wide face and a wider smile. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had apparently had the man crack a few jokes upon his rare appearances in the web-novel, usually during tense situations, as he was reminded by the System upon thinking to himself: “Why is this guy LIKE THIS?!” So, because of just a few lines, the real Wei Qingwei had a relentless sense of humor and loved telling jokes.

Upon their first meeting, when Shang Qinghua was fifteen and had been sent over to help renovate some Wan Jian dormitories, fifteen-year-old Wei Qingwei had pretended to fumble a sword and, using a packet of dye and a sleight of hand, made it look like he’d accidentally cut off his own hand at the wrist. Of course Shang Qinghua had screamed and panicked! Anyone would panic! But Wei Qingwei had laughed at him and said, “Got you! Shang-Shidi, the sword wasn’t even unsheathed!” Asshole!

Qi Qingqi, the head disciple of Xian Shu Peak, was much taller than he was expecting. Apparently Airplane had once described a group of some of the peak lords by saying something like: “Each one of them was like a giant to young Luo Binghe.” That group had included Qi Qingqi. The System apparently had taken that to mean that Qi Qingqi was of a height with the likes of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. Shang Qinghua discovered this adaptational choice when he was almost sixteen, when this giraffe-like girl came to An Ding Peak to complain about an order someone along the pipeline had dropped completely, and he accidentally found himself (still waiting on a really good growth spurt) eye-level with Qi Qingqi’s chest.

Airplane had apparently once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that Qian Cao Peak Lord Mu Qingfang appeared a little older than his colleagues, by which he’d probably meant that the man was just tired or something, but this head disciple Mu Qingfang appeared to have ten years on all the other head disciples. Which was good! Shang Qinghua approved of their future head healer not being a teenager and having more training!

On the bad side of things, Airplane had also once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that the Zui Xian Peak Lord Zhang Qingyan liked his drink too much. This was the peak specializing in alcohol, so it had seemed to make sense! It was supposed to be funny, if anything! Well, at sixteen, Shang Qinghua found out that the System had focused too much on the “too much” part of that statement and now the head disciple of Zui Xian Peak was pretty clearly a budding alcoholic. (Sometimes a cultivator’s constitution and ability to “cure” themselves just… made a person drink more. A lot more.) Which was… not good.

At seventeen, Shang Qinghua met Mobei-Jun.

He didn’t know where to get started with Mobei-Jun.

Somehow he’d… forgotten that Mobei-Jun had been originally based on Airplane’s idea of “the perfect man” and not the super pretty, muscular but slim-waisted protagonist type? The real Mobei-Jun was… tall… and big… and thick. Mobei-Jun’s intimidating features were… more striking than pretty. The first time Shang Qinghua had come back to his Leisure House and found this spoiled brat of an ice demon napping shirtless on his bed, and gotten an eyeful of all that heavy muscle and chest hair, he’d nearly knocked himself out on the doorframe trying to turn away before he had a heart attack.

Mobei-Jun really was going to be the death of him, holy shit.

Especially because this ice demon really was a spoiled brat! Airplane had described this character as being arrogant and apathetic, so now Shang Qinghua had to deal with a Mobei-Jun who took long baths and then carelessly dripped water all over the floor and all over fresh sheets! Who ate all of Shang Qinghua’s cooking and ungratefully only demanded more food, sprawled over furniture not really fit for someone of his size, and then watched Shang Qinghua like a fat tiger! Ahhh, this demon really was lucky he was handsome!

Mobei-Jun was also kind of violent, and mean, which was… well, it sucked.

Back to the sect that Shang Qinghua was now actively betraying, however, as far as he could see, there was still one future peak lord missing.

It wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, who Shang Qinghua had thought would be the last one to show up. Shen Qingqiu had shown up and had been advancing through the ranks of Qing Jing Peak before Shang Qinghua had even met Mobei-Jun, which meant that Yue Qingyuan had finally stopped looking like someone had torn out his soul. (Shang Qinghua had been forced to grit his teeth every time that someone mentioned how privileged that Yue Qingyuan was to have been granted that year of secluded cultivation in the Lingxi Caves at such a young age.)

No, of all the peak lords, it was Liu Qingge who Shang Qinghua had yet to meet.

After meeting Mobei-Jun and becoming an inner disciple, the System had given Shang Qinghua three years to make it to head disciple, probably because the deadline for a new generation of peak lords to ascend was fast approaching. He was working hard to achieve that! Not only did he have to sabotage the current favorite, but he had to make sure all his own training, missions, work, and research were as close to flawless as he could get it! All while keeping an intruding ice demon happy! He wasn’t totally sure that he was going to make it at this rate, even though he’d been here for years.

So it was a little concerning that Liu Qingge hadn't shown up yet. There was so much left to do. A world-state that had yet to be established. Liu Qingge had work to do here!

Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu still had to develop a hatred for each other as disciples that would extend to everyone believing that Shen Qingqiu had murdered Liu Qingge as peak lords, after all. Granted, all Liu Qingge really had to do was beat everyone else on Bai Zhan Peak up to obtain the position, and it wasn’t exactly hard to get Shen Qingqiu to develop a lifelong grudge, but the guy was still cutting it pretty close.

It was possible that Liu Qingge was already on Bai Zhan Peak and making good progress, but that he was just so solitary and focused on searching out the next big battle that Shang Qinghua had just never had the opportunity to meet him. Shang Qinghua did his best to avoid Bai Zhan Peak most of the time, honestly! He was curious about where Liu Qingge was, about what the man looked like, but he didn’t let himself sweat at not seeing the future war god, when he already had so many things to sweat about. The System had taken care of bringing in everyone else, so Shang Qinghua was sure that Liu Qingge would follow sooner or later.

Shang Qinghua’s first sign that something was wrong was that, on the day that Liu Qingge finally announced his existence by beating up everyone on Bai Zhan Peak, everyone was saying things like, “I can’t believe some kid managed to topple all of Bai Zhan like that!”

He… may or may not have ignored this sign.

To be fair to this poor writer-turned-disciple, though, he’d been up all night finishing some paperwork catastrophe the An Ding Peak Lord had thrown at him to fix, as some kind of “test” of his logistics skills. Upon hearing the latest gossip, Shang Qinghua thought, “Oh, finally?” And then his overtired brain collapsed from the effort of thinking two words together in a sentence, and all he could manage from there was to feel the intense need to go to bed at a maximum, static-y volume. No words. No more thinky thoughts. Just the need for speedy sleep.

He stumbled through the rest of his day and then passed out for 18 hours straight. In hindsight, this would have been the time when the gossip was at its hottest. He missed all of it.

When he woke up, everyone was still dealing with the aftermath of what had happened on Bai Zhan Peak, but the conversation had shifted more towards replacing Qian Cao Peak’s depleted supplies and the repairs to Bai Zhan’s training grounds. Liu Qingge was the name on everyone’s lips, still, but everyone knew the basic information now. Now, everyone was just exclaiming over and over again how unbelievably young (and pretty) he was to have bested every other disciple on the sect battle-focused peak. This didn't seem too strange.

The System probably would have based the War God's appearance on his sister, Liu Mingyan, a strong contender for the most beautiful woman in all of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Liu Qingge apparently being a very pretty boy fell neatly into line with all the other character design surprises that Shang Qinghua had gotten smacked with so far.

If Airplane had known that he'd be transmigrating into his novel, maybe there would have been even more handsome men! And everyone would have lived happily ever after and nothing bad would have happened ever, probably, but also there might be more sexy guys too.

-

TBC

[ialwaysgobacktoit]

Azriel surprises Gwyn for her birthday PART. 6

Guys just so you know i need to think of a better name for this bc like THIS IS GETTING BIIIIG (I have a playlist on spotify called "what would gwynriel sing" and i think i'll draw inspiration from there lol)

IT'S GWYN'S POV AGAIN (and this one's a little shorter lol i'm sorry... Rhys is in this chapter bc i honestly share the headcanon that Gwyn and Rhys would be close friends!)

MY GIRLS: @starbornsinger @madie2200 @katiebellf here it is!! And check out the Chapter List here

Gwyn couldn’t deny. She was nervous. That morning the words just rushed out about leaving the library, because she truly felt inspired by Diane’s words. She had spent the previous night awake, even if Emerie and Nesta had long fallen asleep, thinking about what she had to do next. She was feeling braver. Maybe it was because that was the best birthday she had since Sangravah, or perhaps ever, due to the circumstances. She still missed Catrin like crazy during the day, still felt that familiar ache in her chest when she worked at the library in the afternoon, or went training in the morning. But somehow, after everything that has happened in the evening, the lingering image of her sister started being more of a comfort, a companion, than the sorrow and guilt she was accustomed to.

Still, she was nervous.

She did really want to leave the library, and Clotho seemed happy, maybe even proud, to let her go. Merrill didn’t care as long as she kept working for her, at least a couple hours a day. One day, Gwyn thought that would change too. But for now, one step at a time. The night she went to the Town House and dined with the Inner Circle was one of many small steps Gwyn’s been giving these last few months towards more autonomy, independence, and strength. Towards the life she wanted for herself. And now, the day where she decided to move out of the library was the day she took another one.

And Azriel… Honestly, she thought she would be more scared about the prospect of having a mate than she actually did. Most of all, she was happy. She felt lucky and had the confidence that if anything were to happen between the two of them, they would take it slow, at her pace. She wouldn’t have it any other way. That if Azriel were to find out about the bond any time soon; or if she would summon enough courage to tell him. Because if he did know, he would’ve said something by now, wouldn’t he?

Yep. She was very nervous.

What she dreaded the most was the fact that Azriel, well, he may not feel the same once he found out. The Cauldron could be wrong, after all. And all these last months of getting closer to each other, training in companionable silence, laughing together, bantering… She was more than grateful for their friendship, but she knew that Azriel still had some things to figure out – about Elain. If he truly still felt something towards her, that was enough to strain Gwyn’s hopes for the moment. To maintain the quiet feeling to herself, and what it meant; that she was indeed worthy of happiness not only alone, but with another one.

She tried to push all those feelings aside as she was getting ready for dinner at the River House, the High Lady and Lord’s official estate. She looked at herself in the mirror, spinning side to side. It wasn’t much – after all, she didn’t have any clothes besides her robes, nightgowns and training leathers – but the outfit the House provided was more than enough. Her baggy turquoise linen pants and her white, loose crop top made her extremely comfortable, even if the latter was slightly shorter than what she was accustomed to.

She still wore the necklace Azriel re-gifted her. When he told her a few months back about the whole story, she truly understood him. He was in a bad place at the time, but so did she. And even if he had indeed made a mistake, she was glad to have it now. To know that someone gave it to her willingly, that was the thought she held on to. First person considered or not. And besides, it looked great against her freckled skin.

A gentle knock on the door of her new bedroom sounded. “Gwyn, you ready?”

“Yeah, come in”

Nesta opened the door and something sparked in her eyes as she stared at Gwyn through the mirror.

“You look beautiful, girl”

She spun on her heels and smiled at Nesta.

“I do, don’t I?”

They both laughed as they linked their arms and left the room.

“So” Nesta begun, as they walked towards the main entrance together “How are you settling in?”

“It’s very cozy, and I just love that view. The House is providing me everything I need at the moment. Thank you for inviting me to stay.” She gave her sister a grateful smile

“Well, I was serious; you can stay with us for as long as you want.”

“That means a lot.” Gwyn couldn’t contain her smile as she gently nudged her head against her sister’s.

“Don’t mention. I know you’d do the same for me.” And Nesta was right. Without thinking twice, Gwyn would have done the same for both of her newfound sisters. She was so grateful and thrilled their paths had crossed this way.

“By the way” Nesta mentioned innocently when they reached the common area “The room you chose, well, that’s three doors up from Azriel’s. If you have a problem with that, feel free to say it.”

And as she was summoning his presence, that was the moment the Shadowsinger came to vision, talking to Cassian in the balcony – waiting for them.

Gwyn drew on a breath, staring straight at him. When he caught her eye, she couldn’t help her smile. And when his eyes glittered, scanning her from head to toe, she answered quietly to her sister:

“No. I think that’ll be fine.”

*******

The River House was beautiful. Gwyn admired it as the four of them stood by the front door. It was big, but the decoration made it seem comfortable and cozy, despite its size. A true home, Gwyn thought.

Feyre opened the door, a warm smile instantly on her face.

“Come in!”

As soon as they stepped on the entrance hall, Gwyn marveled at the big painting on display. It was a portrait of Nesta as she held the line at the Pass of Enalius. Her cunning eyes seemed to look directly at anyone who came in, daring and challenging. “This is amazing.” She said, tearing her eyes from the image at last and looking at Feyre. Cassian and Nesta had already entered the living room and Azriel stood by the doorway, lingering.

Feyre was still smiling at her when she answered. “Thank you very much, Gwyn. I have others I can show you later, if you’d like.”

“I would love to. You have a beautiful home.” And she could barely conceal the emotion in her eyes as Feyre held her hand and sighed gratefully. She, maybe more than anyone, was well aware of how lucky she was to have such a family.

“We do.”

It was just when she reached the living room and beheld all of those who Feyre and Rhysand loved the most she felt Azriel’s presence still a few steps behind her, his eyes fixed upon her. A tendril of shadow curled up slightly at her wrist, as if saying We’re here. So she looked back for half a second before entering further into the room, only enough to meet his cryptic gaze and give him a half-smile. And couldn’t help the sparkling feeling in her chest when he gave her a reassuring nod.

*****

The night was going on peacefully. Gwyn didn’t say much, and it was rather content in observe. That way, she didn’t feel exposed, and also could get to know the Inner Circle better: their dynamics and bantering, how they acted around each other and discussed both serious and light topics. Elain, for example, was sitting in a chair in the corner, drink in hand. She only joined for dinner, ate quietly and then excused herself from the table for a long time. Rhys and Feyre took turns in watching Nyx, since this evening he went to sleep early. Emerie and Mor were having what seemed to be a very intimate conversation, knees touching and heads close, and Nesta and Cassian, well… They were being their usual selves.

And then she landed her eyes on the Shadowsinger. He was definitely the quietest of them all, even if during dinner he had participated in the more serious subjects of conversation and exchanged a few casual words with Gwyn. She could observe enough to notice he didn’t once glance at Elain, or her at him, and that they kept their distance. He actually seemed to have spent the evening doing the same thing Gwyn was, which was observing; except for him it was natural, a second skin. He certainly had enough time these hundred years to know well about the rest of his family, while she was doing that precisely to learn more about them. If it was easy for her to be like this, for him was instinct.

She couldn't stop but detain herself on the details of his face, though, as he now spoke to Mor, who had subtly approached him. He wore that inexpressive mask, but she could see the way his brows were slightly furrowed, his jaw set just slightly... There was something concerning him, making him uneasy. She wondered, maybe for the tenth time, when she would tell him. Or if she should let him find out by himself. And again, her heart fluttered as he put his hands in his pockets and nodded along, listening to Mor.

How could the Cauldron have chosen this? To have defined them as mates... He was the one who saved her, who’d seen her low, who helped her at the very worst moment of her life. And although she would be forever grateful for it, she was aware he had enough on his plate – to burden him with her feelings... She didn't know what to do. It was at that moment their eyes locked across the room. She didn't realize she had still been staring, and quickly darted her eyes away.

Only to meet with Rhysand’s staring at her from across the table.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry.

Oh, shit. Shit. Gwyn contained her gasp. He heard her. She didn't know for how long, but he could read her thoughts.

I was just going to ask you if you were feeling okay.

She knew what he meant. But still...

"Please. Please don’t say a word". She managed to whisper to that presence in her mind.

He doesn't know? She could feel his curiosity. Although they were still staring at each other, his face yielded nothing.

"I don't think so. Please, just…"

Don't worry, Gwyn. I won't tell him.

She could've cried in relieve. "Thank you."

He only nodded at her and raised his glass, and she could feel his presence fading from her mind.

*****

When they arrived at the House of Wind, a few hours later, Gwyn was still a little uneasy. She needed to learn how to shield her mind properly; even if she felt she trusted Rhys’s word, she couldn’t feel relaxed at the thought that someone else knew about what she’d only recently discovered and were still trying to figure out.

She could barely stare at Azriel when they flew all the way back. They remained silent all the way to the House of Wind, and her gaze remained fixed on the city landscape below them, or on the skies above. Never on him or their closeness, even if she’d caught him glancing at her a few times. They landed just a few minutes after Nesta and Cassian. When she meant to let go of his hand, he held it just for a moment longer:

“Did you have fun tonight?”

She nodded, managing to bring a smile upon her face. She didn’t want him to see how nervous she was; they were never like that around each other.

“A lot. Your family is very…”

“Extravagant?”

“I was going to say kind. But they might be a little extravagant, too.”

The corner of his lips tugged upward, and she let out a quiet laugh. “Are you going to sleep now?”

“In a few hours, maybe. I think I’ll hit the training ring first.”

She nodded. His shadows swirled a little at his shoulders. She seemed to forget about her nervousness for a second as she noticed his slightly furrowed brows, as if he was concentrating: “You know you don’t have to restrain them, if it tires you.”

“They should behave better.” It was all he grunted back, slightly annoyed at his dancing shadows.

“Well, I don’t mind at all. I like them. So at least around me, you shouldn’t worry about it.”

The seconds her eyes held his stare were enough to make Gwyn feel like she could burst – or touch him, again. So she turned away and smiled over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Az.”

All she felt before reaching the stairway was a tendril of shadow gently curling around her arm.

[batarangsoundsdumb]

yet another ask dump yeehaw!

do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?

sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.

Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I don’t want a justice league that doesn’t make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.

barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'

john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,

Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen

thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien

AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls

uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background

Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla

wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?

young justice 🤝 teen titans slut shaming batman

tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'

Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)

uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.

in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)

yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.

Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )

as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.

Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan

listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude

Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?

everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.

why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people

what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being ✨italian✨

Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes

well that's a you problem isn't it?

do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?

he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.

holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!

i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird

Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.

Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.

uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho

your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.

actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)

This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )

because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.

Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing

well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.

The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2

oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.

I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)

okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.

The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that

also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson

Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks

because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)

About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.

i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.

Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)

i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck

Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)

fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)

How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot

i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)

So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you 💛🥺 (@katekanebadass)

aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!

The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them 💀😌

i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids

as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) ❤️

thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)

In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"

this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"

honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?

gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.

why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family

bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)

Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy

why would say something so controversial yet so brave.

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position

tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000

dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'

dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it

I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok

i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.

Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk

bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism

you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy

like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.

ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE

thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.

in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman

absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.

need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes

yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days

oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit

okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)

I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free

cw is jared, 19

do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it

uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club

Wait how many languages do you speak??

uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.

You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente 😈 and is tasty

okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the 😈 emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: mingyu x fem!reader | purge!au ⚬ word count: 15,728. ⚬ warnings: weapons, death, drugs, blood. ⚬ genres: ANGST, spicy/nsfw scenes, fluff to mend the heart, romance, action, and whatever else you could fathom lol.

✧✎ synopsis: the annual purge was a system of purification, alleviation, a supposedly psychological device in which people found a moment to unleash their indignation. you never purged until you met mingyu, a boy whose warmth was just as palpable as his darkness. you begin to fall for him, which means involvement with the evil he’s managed to attract.

✧✎ a/n: longer note at the end of the fic! sorry i’ve kept this in the vault for AGES bc i couldn’t figure out how to write in the ‘twist’ or whatever the fuck. you’ll know when you get there. anyways this is for @mihgyu (sorry it freakin took so long!) and @solgyus​ as they are my Resident Mingyu Stans. i also changed the title bc i thought... yknow... it fits better!

You had always wondered what life was like for the previous generation, the generation who grew up without acquaintance to the annual purge. It was an alien concept if any concept at all, one so foreign and inexplicably bizarre that the cogs in your mind would start jamming against each other in a struggle of comprehension. The education system had groomed its pupils into believing it was the only plausible way to recover from an economic collapse, feeding into gullible and malleable minds the possibility of clearing rage through bloodshed.

When your parents disappeared at dawn, leaving nothing behind but the sound of a lock clicking shut and a note advising you to stay away from the windows and doors, it could be assumed they’d return at morning with crimson-stained clothing, crusted lacerations, and heavy weaponry sealed taunt to their hands; or maybe they wouldn’t return at all. Yet you were taught to believe that was okay. At least if you didn’t have your family, you had your friends. 

At least if you didn’t have your family, you had Mingyu. 

As much as you despised admitting to yourself, Mingyu meant to you what the moon meant to the tides, what the sun meant to the meadows. He kept you in perpetual motion, allowed you room to recuperate and blossom into a much stronger version of yourself after your father never came home. When he lost his job your family lost its momentum. The last you ever saw of the man was his backside as he slipped through the door frame, a chortling in the evening air, a black revolver clasped to his hand.

He seemed to disappear alongside your mother’s sanity. She isolated herself and pushed everyone away, even you, the only person capable of nurturing her. In school you’d learned that the purge was supposed to bring purification, it was responsible for cleansing humans of the everyday stresses that slowly crushed them flat. Purging allowed them happiness; a twelve hour capsule to unleash what the law prohibited three-hundred-sixty-four days a year.

Yet when you looked to your mother, you didn’t see any traces of happiness or fulfillment, just an empty shell that sat with sunken eyes in her rocking chair, mumbling to herself like a toddler. Before you even had time to find closure after your father’s disappearance, your mother suffered a similar fate, abducted through the windowsill by a maniac who sought vengeance for the crimes committed beneath your father’s hand. He was a stingy businessman who often scammed to make his money, therefore collecting a myriad of enemies.

Notably, you didn’t start purging until you met Mingyu. The first time you’d ever used a gun with malicious intent was when you ran into the man responsible for abducting your mother. The kick-back from the trigger had you stumbling across the watered asphalt, the silver slick rain that caved down from the clouds washing away the minuscule spatters of his blood that blew onto your face. As he slumped down against the red bricks, the animation draining slowly from his eyes, he spluttered,

“S-She’s dead, she payed for your father’s incompetence, his greed.”

In complete lifelessness you lowered the weapon, not realizing how close the  distant gunfire sounded until Mingyu had to drag you away by the wrist. He murmured his condolences to you when the air was tinged with less bloodshed, carefully nuzzling you into his chest when the reality of what you’d just done had come spiraling forth, leaving a slap so brutal across your face the burn seemed more realistic than the raindrops hitting your skin.

You felt disgusting, enclosed in a body that had been consumed by the purest form of hatred, and there was nothing you could do to evade the feeling of that ugly gun pressed into your hand. But within that same moment, hot tears pumping onto Mingyu’s shirt, you understood a certain satiation that tempted so many people to do what you had just done.

“We can’t stay here,” You felt the vibrations from his deep voice against your cheek, coolness stinging the heated flesh of your face when you lifted your head to meet his gentle eyes.

“Gotta keep moving, alright? It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Mingyu’s composure was definitely an admirable trait. But then again, he’d been exposed to this environment long before you ever questioned purging. At that point you had felt completely numb, allowing him to wind you through the crevices and shadowy tunnels building the foundation of the city, your vision blurred by a mixture of salt and rain water. You felt safe with Mingyu, though it hadn’t always been like that. Before your friendship you were an outsider to the boy, harbouring nothing but a tiny crush toward him and his handsome face.

In fact the first time you’d ever spoken to Mingyu, it was after his fight with Wen Junhui, one of the most infamous, cynical purgers you prayed to never meet.

Two Years Ago –

“I’ll kill you if you come near her again!”

“Is that supposed to scare me?!”

You’d never seen a fist fight in real life before, and you were positive that was a good thing. A large crowd steadfastly increased around two tall, venom-eyed boys caught up in their alcohol. They were spitting profanities, threats, and whatever else their clouded minds could formulate within the gap of the other’s speech. The party had been rather lackluster before that point anyways, so like the congregation swarming to the centre of the room, you etched into the crowd and managed to stand just inside the inner circle.

“Shit – sorry,” you squeaked as you were suddenly shoved into the girl beside you. Your face became hollow like a crater on the moon when you saw that it was Mingyu’s girlfriend.

“What am I supposed to do?” She mumbled whilst biting her nails, “I didn’t know how to stop it.”

“Stop the fight?”

She continued babbling, “Junhui kept coming on to me and Mingyu saw. They’re both competitive, boggle-brained idiots when they’re drunk. I don’t know what to do.”

Her name was Yang Yeeun, born and raised by parents maintaining such wealth that rumours began circulating their bloodstream was crushed rubies. You could see her pearl earrings flashing behind the straight black locks framing her small face. You don’t think she ever took them off. Her father manufactured security systems for the purge; however, the most recent release had been proven to bore many defects and flaws. She didn’t care, as long as she got a slice of the wealth.

In the beginning, Yeeun and Mingyu’s relationship came as a slap to the wrist. How could two people reaping such difference in personality become so close? Yeeun was frank and staid, with cold, cindered eyes that never displayed an eclipse of emotion. Her complexion was just as pale as the pearls she wore and her heart swam darkly.

Mingyu was her polar opposite. 

Sure he was intimidatingly tall, but any menace he constructed with his height was easily derailed through his bubbly nature. He was what you call, “a gentle giant,” and anyone who contacted him for more than a brief period understood this. The warmth was in his honey-brown gaze, the velvet of his tanned skin, the sepia tones that were shaggy in his hair. When he spoke you could feel the gravel roll beneath your feet, and when he said your name heat would flood your face like steam throughout a hot spring. 

Again, Mingyu and Yeeun made a bizarre couple, yet he loved her so deeply you swore the dark coverings in her heart had peeled back a little.

You kept in mind, a little.

“They’re fighting over you?” You questioned carefully, trying not to exaggerate your words so that it seemed utterly impossible for her to be worth fighting over.

“Yes,” Yeeun gritted, her eyes darting around the crowd, strangers pressing into the circle, allured by drunken shouting, “can’t they wait until purge before they start ripping into each other?”

Wouldn’t it be best if they didn’t rip into each other at all?

“Like you said, they’re drunk and stupid,” you opted for the latter choosing.

Mingyu’s mellow stare had been licked over by enraged flames, the remaining liquor still pumping through his system and warming his blood until it sizzled. His fists were balled tightly, fangs peeking past the taunt snarl on his lips. Junhui appeared calmer, though the bar of composure was quite low to begin with. The unkempt ends of his midnight black hair were shaking, his sharp nose crinkled, and his stare so impossibly intense that you were nauseated a vein on his neck might become engorged and pop. 

As interesting as it would be for you to witness your first fist fight, you knew it wasn’t a wise idea for these two to start swinging at each other.

You set a hand on Yeeun’s shoulder, “maybe you should stop thi—,”

Suddenly, her palms encased her mouth as the last few words of toxicity were spat between Mingyu and Junhui, the crowd erupting in brazen cheering as the two lunged for one another in a flash of blurred colour. Your jaw was permanently unhinged, your body set in stone, attention completely spellbound under the boys who were viciously entangled. The world seemed to spin at a snail’s pace whilst the fight flickered faster than lightning. At one point Mingyu had Junhui shoved up against the wall, one hand nearly ripping through the boy’s black-collared shirt as he tore his free fist back and swiftly launched it forward. The hard ridges of Mingyu’s knuckles connected with Junhui’s eye, his head smashed back into the drywall so that an indentation remained.

“G-Get the fuck off me, Mingyu!”

“You fucking asked for this, dumbass!”

In another fuzzy whirlwind of movement, Junhui managed to push Mingyu backward and onto the snack table, bowls and bottled alcohol spilling across the floor with jade shards of glass scattering in flurries. Junhui drew his fist into Mingyu’s face, the collision splintering against Mingyu’s brow bone. You could see the speckles of blood flying off Junhui’s hand as he curled his fingers into another ball, preparing to throw once more. Panic encompassed you from every angle; it drowned you above your head until the crowd’s bellowing became a muffled choir to your ears. 

You could hardly breathe as your sights shifted to Yeeun, the girl with her hands still clasped to her mouth, doing absolutely nothing.

Was that a smirk hidden behind her hands?

She really did have a dark heart. By the looks of it no one was going to intervene. You were most likely the soberest person in attendance. Even if it downright petrified you, letting those two get their hands so bloodied it would look like they doused their arms in red paint wasn’t a viable option.

“Hey!” You barked, slowly etching your way into the clearing, “what the fuck is wrong with you two?! Get off each other!”

Mingyu and Junhui were still a violent mass now buckled to the floor, anger and alcohol swelling through their bodies like a drug. You felt your knees wobble, as though a tight fist had an ironclad grip on your entrails and was squelching them around slowly. Junhui had Mingyu pressed to the floor, and raised in his arm was a sparkling shard belonging to a smashed bottle. You didn’t know what it was, but something inside compelled you to react. In a mere instant you were ripping the shard from Junhui’s hand and screaming at the top of your lungs, the crowd’s cheering turned to hushed whispers.

“Enough!”

Your chest was heaving, fingers grasping the glass piece tightly enough that thin lines of red began dripping down your hand. Junhui and Mingyu had peeled themselves apart, the deep marring of hatred etched so profoundly into their eyes you’d never be able to forget it. Yeeun suddenly blossomed with emotion after standing on the outskirts smirking into her palm, the girl bounding toward Mingyu and snaking her arms around his neck like she’d been downright sobbing with worry the whole time.

“C’mon, Gyu,” she gritted, “we’re leaving.”

Thanks for the help.

You were tempted to call.

The fight between Mingyu and Junhui might have stopped, but the party continued to thrive. You were wandering through the upstairs hallway as the wooden floorboards jolted beneath you, driven by incessant music that became a furthering echo. Fresh blood had yet to stop streaming down the grooves between your knuckles, pooling from the lacerations of that jagged, glass shard and wetting your warm skin. You continued seeking for a bathroom, any room really that might contain a first aid kit, or at least some water and tissues that would help to clean your hand.

Each room was either occupied or locked. A defeated sigh ghosted from your lips as you stood at the end of the hall, weakly knocking your healthy hand against the last door. Scarlet drops were creating a puddle on the wood whilst you waited, until the brass handle jiggled and you were stepping back in shock that someone had actually acknowledged your presence.

Of course, the person doing the acknowledging had to be Yeeun.

“Oh! It’s… you.” She murmured. Behind her slim frame you could see Mingyu sitting on the sink, holding a cloth to his eyebrow.

“It’s me,” you replied, desperately wanting to skip the small talk and use the first aid kit. Didn’t she say she was leaving?

Yeeun finally noticed the red pathways on your hand and nodded, “I see you need to get yourself bandaged up.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You hummed, trying not to sound impatient but utterly failing.

“Well… I’ll be right back then. Just so you know there’s no gauze left.”

“That’s okay, I don’t think I’ll need an—,”

“I’m going to look for some!” Yeeun called as she squeezed her way past you and began trudging down the corridor, “be back soon!”

Mingyu tossed you a lopsided smile when you entered the bathroom. You kicked the door shut with your foot to drown as much noise as possible. Though the small barrier didn’t do too much in regards to sound, it certainly made the bathroom feel one-hundred times smaller. Or maybe it was solely Mingyu and his gargantuan height. Perhaps it wasn’t any of those factors and you were just feeling nervous to be enclosed in a private space with him. Either way, your face turned into magma and you felt like swallowing sand. Without saying a word you turned on the sink and let the cold water stream between your fingers.

“Hey.” He began.

Oh no. If you initiate conversation with me there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I’m going to fall in love with you.

“Thanks for intervening. You kinda saved my life there.”

You scoffed whilst scrubbing the dry scarlet from your wrist, “I think you could have taken him.”

Mingyu took the wet cloth from his brow and folded it over before reapplying pressure to his own wound, sighing deeply. “Fuck this. I hate getting drunk.”

Fastening your teeth into your lower lip, you remained silent and continued swirling around the bloodied skin until the red currents seemed to all drain away, down the white porcelain. You winced a little because there was indeed a stinging sensation, but it was better than allowing the cuts to get infected. Mingyu’s curious gaze was watching the scene intently, and with his body propped right next to the sink, there was really no easy way to avoid your feelings other than to talk with him.

“How’s your injury?”

“I don’t know, how is it?” He peeled the damp cloth from his brow bone. You could see that directly in the centre the skin had spilt, a little ways above the brow and a little beneath it, bright pink flesh gleaming from between the dark hairs and tanned skin. It would definitely leave a scar.

“I’m no doctor, but you might need stitches.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu grimaced. “That fucking sucks.”

You scoffed. “That’s funny. The same kid who socked Junhui in his eye is afraid of getting a few itty bitty baby stitches.”

Mingyu pouted, his thick brows then slanting downward which made him wince petulantly. You couldn’t suppress your chuckling, turning off the sink with a coy smile playing along your mouth.

“I’m joking.”

“I know.” Mingyu said. “I’m sure everyone’s gonna start saying he’ll rake my eyes out at purge.”

You laughed at that too, though deep down you both knew it wasn’t anything flowery to laugh about. Junhui was the definition of nefarious. Similar to Yeeun his family danced in riches, their security systems were top-notch, and his access to weaponry and blueprints of the city could be in his hands within minutes. People worshiped the ground he walked on, but it wasn’t because they liked him. It was only sensible to play nice to the person capable of taking your life away in a single breath. 

Of course, Junhui’s reputation made him a prime target, yet despite all the people who secretly wanted him dead, it was difficult to even lay a scathe on his amber skin.

In your eyes it was better to avoid the boy altogether. That way you never gave him any reason to seek out your oblivious-self during the annual purge. Mingyu had crossed that line to the fullest extent. He laid more than an innocent scathe on Junhui; the boy had given him an entire fist to his pretty, supposedly untouchable face. Feeling your heartbeat thump widely, you quickly willed to change the subject.

“Do you see any cloths? Or Kleenex? Anything?”

Mingyu frowned. “Sorry, nothing.”

You shook your arm out over the sink to shed some water droplets, yet the blood still continued to bead. Mingyu looked sympathetic. He presumed it was his fault you were even injured in the first place.

“Yeeun’s getting gauze.”

“I think I’ll be okay—,”

“Wait!” Mingyu suddenly piped. “This might be super awkward but—,” the boy’s tongue peaked out between his pink lips as he gripped the end of his white t-shirt and gave it a tear, pulling off a strip of fabric.

Your cheeks began crackling and your palms felt oddly clammy, “M-Mingyu, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the boy said, “this shirt’s old and busted anyways. It’s better than walking home, dripping blood everywhere.”

You smiled softly and stared at the floor.

“Here! I’ll even wrap it for you.” He purred, gently reaching for your arm and twining the white material like a roll of bandages around your hand. 

Forgetting about his own spilt brow that began clotting with blood, Mingyu finished his dexterous work with a tender glance that made your stomach flip, his chocolate bangs falling endearingly before his eyes. After shaking the fringe away, he gave you a thumbs-up.

“Now you look like you just got into a fight.”

“Right, because I’m the first person everyone suspects to start a fight. You hit the nail on the head with that one.”

Mingyu chuckled at the heavy sarcasm, blinking his pretty lashes at you with such warmth you keened to melt like an ice cream cone. You supposed after that moment, Mingyu might not be nearly as brutal as his drunken, love-induced mind influenced him to be. For a fleeting moment you even doubted that this was the same boy with his own kill-list. His eyes glimmered like diamonds catching a shaft of light.

“That’s something only time can tell.” He purred

Two Years Ago –

When Mingyu and Yeeun broke up, it was like the universe took its cue to make everything in life feel unreal. If their romance was nothing more than a mirage, then had romance ever existed in the first place? At least to you, it routinely appeared as though Yeeun’s heart had never been within the same realm as Mingyu’s. There was always an island of separation between them, one little ploy that prevented the couple from truly clicking like puzzle pieces. That ploy was exigent in the form of onyx hair, a sultry voice, and bottomless eyes.

In other words the obstacle was Junhui. Yeeun started dating him no less than a month after the break-up.

Mingyu, he was crushed; taking the point of devastation and expanding it an extra nine yards. In contrast with Yeeun’s heart, his was always wide open, warmer than a summer fire and more embracing than sun rays. You swore she would be the girl he took to meet his mother, the girl whose finger he delicately touched to slide upon a silver loop. A part of you crumbled each time you saw them together, before the break-up, and even more so after the party.

Remembering how his rough fingertips skimmed the wet (and surely burning) skin of your hand as he wrapped the cloth around it did something peculiar to your mind. Reminiscing on the soft timbre of his chuckles made your head spin, and replaying the manner in which his eyes twinkled as he gazed at you through his thick bangs brought forth fluttering in your stomach. It was what you were daydreaming about even after their infamous break-up, fingers clacking against the keys on your laptop whilst you finished an essay in the library. To your dismay, the thoughts were scattered by conversation at the table behind you.

“Think Junhui is gonna gut Mingyu at purge?”

“Probably not, Mingyu would be expecting it. And it’s not like he’s hopeless. Did you hear about how he stabbed someone to death in the tunnel last year?”

“Yeah. But Junhui’s clique practically owns the purge. They’ll tear your fuckin’ house down if they can find it.”

“…True. Those two seriously have some bad fucking blood. Do you remember the rumours about how Junhui sho— ”

Unable to listen any longer without this horrendous churning against the walls of your stomach, you shoved your laptop into its carrying case, swung it over your shoulder and began shuffling between the book shelves. Your stare traced the floor whilst a pummeling sensation thundered into your ribcage. Mingyu didn’t seem like the type to kill, though you didn’t know him personally, and perhaps he had matters of vengeance that crooned for redemption. This tiny hope inside you flickered, prayed that Mingyu was unlike Junhui, the kind that tortured for torture’s sake, the kind that shoved a pistol beneath your jaw because you looked at them funny.

Suddenly, you collided with someone. Blinking upward, you gazed at the body you’d walked into, Mingyu, who was in the midst of pulling out a book.

“Sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized.

You hadn’t seen him for a while, but he looked healthy, a bit tired perhaps, but mostly healthy. Dressed in comfy clothing, a grey hood drawn with his earbuds plugged in, he popped one of the speakers out and lent a small smile. His eyes were slightly veiled by his earthy bangs, the coarse fronds wavy in front of his forehead. His scent was a concoction of something tropic mixed with cannabis, and when he spoke his voice was lower than usual.

“Were you leaving?” Mingyu asked.

Yes.

“No, no. I wanted to finish my essay somewhere that wasn’t... back there.”

“Oh,” he sighed, “seemed like you were in a rush.”

“I was just thinking.”

Mingyu stuck the book back into its gap and smiled, “about?”

You sniffled. “What?”

“What were you thinking about?”

Obviously you were not going to admit that you just overheard conversation about Mingyu being gutted under Junhui’s hand, about Mingyu supposedly cramming a knife through whoever’s chest during last year’s purge, about Mingyu’s history of participation in the annual mayhem that plagued the country like a sickness each year. Now that the purge was on your mind, a dark worry skulked in the shadowy crevices of your brain, yet it seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it arrived when Mingyu stared at you so gently.

“How much I hate essays.”

He nodded. “That must be it.”

Without thinking, you blurted, “what happened with your eyebrow? Did you get a scar?”

He simply carded back the bangs covering his forehead and poked at the nick with his finger. It would have been courteous to receive a warning that he was going to reveal his forehead. He had no clue how powerful a mechanism it truly was, how badly you wanted to kiss that tiny scar after seeing the slit through his brow. Swallowing the flushed heat that arose in your throat, you grinned with a closed lip.

“Well, it makes you look like a badass if that’s any comfort.”

Mingyu let his hair flop back into place and laughed quietly. “What’s up with your hand? That cut looked so nasty.”

Looking down at your fingers, you probed the faint lines of where the glass had sliced your skin, engraved almost, like a stone carving.

“Kinda. It doesn’t look as cool as your eyebrow slit though. And you’re way less busted than Jun. His eye is still purple.”

For a brief ellipse you simply embraced the opportunity of being alone with Mingyu. That some higher deity had taken pity on your life barren with romance and granted you this precious exchange to add to your vault of daydreams. The more his hoarse voice lapped at your ears, surely roughened yet equally soothing, you felt your chest create a burrow for him, a gap that only he could fill. It baffled you, that Yeeun could break his heart. But it didn’t surprise you. She was built from titanium, similar to Junhui, and together they were hawks that would make prey of everyone.

“Trust me,” Mingyu said, “it wouldn’t make me feel any better if we were matching.” 

His jaw clenched, and his stare slipped to the floor for a transient moment. A nearly imperceptible breeze tickled up the back of your neck, causing you to rub at the fine hairs as Mingyu’s usual aura slowly dissipated into a much darker nuance. You gulped, attempting to laugh something of comfort back into the air.

“There’s a lot we could match in, like... bracelets! Or a necklace! Or one of those couple t-shirts... Not that we’re a couple,” stuttering helplessly, you felt electricity tingle in your cheeks, “I was just thinking about matching stuff and that popped into my hea—”

“It’s fine.” Mingyu responded, the storm clouds cast in his gaze finally ebbing away. He smiled, and a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“You’re pretty cute y’know? I don’t think I’d mind.”

1 year ago –

You never spoke commonly to Mingyu about the idea of purging until you were thrust into the political nightmare on a whim, a stupid, stupid, moonstruck whim.  The few times the morbid topic arose seriously, neither of you had enlightening stories to exchange. A bitter knot lodged itself into your throat the night you reiterated to Mingyu about the tragedies concerning your parents; the disappearance of your father and the abduction of your mother, a tearful lining glossy in your eyes.

You’d never seen Mingyu express such grief when he returned the storytelling.

He moved out from his parent’s house when he was eighteen years old, his best friend, Minghao, making the journey alongside him. Faintly, you remembered Minghao, more or so from your high school days when you shared the same last period art class. He had always been rather subdue, never really speaking with anyone apart from Mingyu, though there had was a handful of times where you caught him and another boy, Wonwoo, skipping class together. Apparently Wonwoo didn’t have a very good home life. He’d supposedly been forced into purging since middle school, and his psyche never quite recovered. 

You never even saw Wonwoo smile apart from when he was with Minghao. 

However, one day that boy from your art class just disappeared, and the rumours hadn’t stopped swirling since. It was a common fact that Minghao never purged. He didn’t have any bad blood with anyone either.

Not that you were aware of.

In the beginning stages of Mingyu’s purging he used to commonly venture with a group of three friends. Wonwoo happened to be one of them, plus another named Jihoon (who you could recall dawdling around in the background of the party) though Mingyu never named the third. He described it as being pure, inexplicable dread. They were constantly finding themselves in gruesome situations that forced their true colours from camouflage, how they stole burning glimpses of the other when the night came to an end and blood was caked to their clothing. The purge had tainted all of them, some more than others, whether it be with drug addiction, eternal madness, or an unhealthy fascination to mend so seamlessly with the evil that they personified it.

However, genuine fear pitted in the core of your stomach when Mingyus’ fists had clenched in his lap, his features distracted by a look of anguish as he sucked in a breath and spoke in an unsettling, distant tone.

“It was four of us in my car. I was driving, Wonwoo and Jihoon were in the backseat, and he... he took up the passenger seat. It was different... How he reacted to the purge... The rest of us were still somewhat fearful of it but he almost thrived in all the destruction. We were even talking about going purging without him the next year, but...

Mingyu had to clear his throat.

“I guess Minghao was waiting for me to come back to the house. He probably wasn’t even waiting on me specifically, he had this little crush on one of my friends, Wonwoo. They were always messing around together. Minghao probably got excited when he heard us, so he came outside, onto the grass... But then I heard the pop of the gun out the open window... I just... I don’t fucking know if he thought Minghao was a maniac or... If he was on drugs or something... But, God... He just —“

You didn’t allow him to say anymore when his words became warped, when his voice cracked and his eyes split like a sheet of broken glass. Minghao didn’t just disappear - he was killed, and Mingyu knew who was responsible. Instead of pressing him for details, you reached for his hand, rubbed your thumb along his knuckles, made sure he knew that you were there for him. 

And yet you had been thrust into the setting of the same picture during your first purge, the first time you had ever experienced what it was like to harm someone, turning their existence into an irreparable patch in the universe.

This is your emergency broadcast system, announcing the commencement of the annual purge.

At the siren, all crime, including murder, will be legal for twelve hours.

All emergency services will be suspended.

Your government thanks you for your participation.

“This is going to be your entire fault if I die tonight, Mingyu! I just want you to know that!”

“Relax. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

It was nothing short of chaotic. Pitch blackness shrouded the skylight like a heavy cloth, the distant rattle of gunfire and screams sitting heavy in the air as you raced down the street. The horrendous acts were most commonly centred to the city’s heart, where prime businesses, rich corporations, and notorious killers congregated to create havoc. Still, that didn’t make you any less petrified, your nails sinking into Mingyu’s hand like dog’s teeth. Fights were slowly beginning to litter the sidewalk, a store going up in orange flame and hissing embers now glinting behind you.

“I knew that we weren’t going to make it back to your place on time. I knew it was stupid that we even questioned going out on purge in the first place - Ah!”

You shrieked at an unprecedented decibel as two men came tumbling out of the alleyway only meters away from your feet, your body slamming into Mingyu’s backside when he cemented himself to a halt. The men payed no notice to you, entirely engulfed in their own world of vengeance through bloodied fists and messy punches.

“This way.” Mingyu’s words were like a breeze in the midst of a hurricane.

You hardly registered he’d even said anything until his grip lurched you forward and you were stumbling to the opposite side of the street. Then, your jogging pace skyrocketed into running, the breaths just squeezing from between your lips and the pain in your chest aching so potently you felt like vomiting. Your stamina was breaking faster than glass. You couldn’t afford to run any longer.

“M-Mingyu, can we please stop?”

The boy didn’t seem to have a choice as your fingers began unclasping from his hand, your body collapsing on the concrete staircase belonging to the city bell tower. Mingyu anxiously carded his hair back, his eyes moving hyperactively down the street only to be greeted with more and more violence consuming his vision. Gunshots seemed to thunder from every direction, splintered shouts joining hymn. Large trucks blared down the black pavement with ominous members hunched in the open cap, holding weaponry and wearing masks of painted wood.

The boy squatted down, his palm firmly encasing your cheek and keeping your head up.

“I’ll give you a minute. But then we have to keep going. It’s too dangerous to stay in one spot.”

You stared into Mingyu’s face with a tiresome expression, the bronzed and gleaming hue of his skin reflecting the fire that crackled in the distance. His touch became sterner as he moved in closer, his eyes no less than a few inches from your own.

“Trust me, I know you’re exhausted. We’re gonna be at my place soon though, okay? You just gotta hold tight for a little longer.” He pressed his forehead against yours, and met your gaze head on. “I’m going to keep you safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

An intruding shout echoed a little too closely down the street, engendering you to choke on your own heartbeat. Mingyu growled in irritancy, pivoting his head and glaring at the stranger who stepped from an alleyway. Rather than looking frightened (you were on the verge of sobbing bullets), Mingyu’s forehead crinkled angrily, the tiny scar that cut through his brow beginning to slant.

“Stay put.” Mingyu commanded you.

There was a colder lining to his tone that you’d never heard before, malevolent and icy. As soon as his touch fell from your cheek, you knew his hands were about to tend to a much different matter. Your mind implored for you to look away, yet your heart waned for the exact opposite. The man was scraggly and a bit stockier than Mingyu, a mischievous intent welling in his movement as he seemed to dance back and forth like a hummingbird. He wore a smooth, white mask and a heavy brown coat that bore many unidentified stains, a long, curved blade in his hand.

“You’re just a kid,” the man taunted, “it’s always the younger crowd that get so riled about the concept of murder, think they’re all that, but they drop faster than flies when it comes down to it.”

Mingyu didn’t waver. “You should keep talking if you want that knife poking through the opposite side of your throat.”

You inhaled stiltedly. This was definitely not the same Mingyu who smiled with the power of a burning star, his mannerisms filling your chest with laughter and his golden eyes bathing your face with heat. You thought back to the library, the conversation that drawled behind you. This was the Mingyu they were talking about. You had a feeling that the innocent projections in your head were close to changing.

The man chuckled and pointed his knife, shaking it at Mingyu, “you’ve got the same cockiness as that rich China boy’s little clique. I’m sure you’ve heard about them. They’ll be flocking to the streets any minute now.”

Mingyu spoke gutturally in response, the disgust and repulsion so thick in his voice you almost couldn’t recognize it. “Don’t you fucking dare compare me to him.”

The man chuckled darkly, “hit a nerve, did I?”

You weren’t sure what happened next, mainly because it all happened so fast, a series of swift movements (on Mingyu’s behalf) that resulted in your pulse fizzling like hot oil. Ultimately you were going to be exposed to murder one way or another, though watching it reflect in the glassy curve of your own eyes left behind a deep scarring. The man lurched at Mingyu with his hefty blade slashing for the chest, most likely assuming that because of Mingyu’s height he would be quite slow and lack agility.

However, that was severely not the case, to the man’s dismay more than anyone else’s. Within the span of sixty measly seconds Mingyu had tripped him onto his back, snatched the blade from his grip and wedged the knife directly into the man’s windpipe, exactly as he said he would do.

At that point you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. Mingyu’s breathing was level as he rose from the man’s waist, a burgundy pool of blood bubbling at the neck where the blade had punctured skin. Mingyu lifted his jacket, pulled the knife out, and attached the weapon through his belt. He spent an extra few moments patting the fresh corpse down until he uncovered a small revolver hidden in the inside pocket on the man’s coat. When Mingyu handed you the revolver in means of protection, you didn’t realize you were shivering.

“Now,” he pronounced, “we’re going home.”

And at the time you believed him. 

Until thirty minutes stretched into an hour, an hour into two hours, three hours, four hours. The chaos that was the purge had encompassed you both. This supposedly psychological device controlled you like a ventriloquist. Violence sneered at every turn and eventually an unspoken conclusion emerged; that it was easier to join chaos than it was to run from it. Later that night everything came full circle. 

You were the one pointing the weapon, aiming the silver barrel into the face of the man who had broken in your home and abducted your mother last year, on account of stupid, petty crimes your father had committed in the past. Seconds before touching the trigger, all you could picture was his face swathed in moonlight, the horror that clawed in your stomach when you ran down from your room that night to see him yanking her out the smashed window. 

And when you felt the release of the bullet, it became emboldened that it truly was a small, cruel world.

Present –

Squeezing one eye shut, you held the black gun with both hands and aimed the muzzle toward a tree stump that acted as your target, a cheek pressed into the taunt muscle of your shoulder as you inhaled a steadying breath. Delicate winds blew across the meadow, each strand of grass rippling in a hypnotic wave. The horizon lay beyond the tree trunk, a bleeding yellow sun submerging quietly behind the endless terrain, casting a honeyed glow to speckle like rain droplets upon your face.

There was not a single sound apart from the grassy fronds tickling against each other, your concentration solidifying to a mar in the tree bark. Then, your finger ghosted over the trigger, a sharp burst echoing into the pale yellow sky and causing a distant congregation of birds to take flight. The bullet struck the wood, right where you had envisioned the lead entering.

“Look at you,” the tension keyed into your bones drifted away, exiting your body in a shallow exhale once Mingyu’s prideful tone filled the spaces between the winds, “your shot may be even better than mine now.”

After lowering the firearm to face the earth and switching the safety on, a demure smile danced across your lips. Mingyu’s arms were strong and looping carefully around your waist, hauling you back into the broad expanse of his chest. He buried his face into the smooth plane where your shoulder met your neck, his soft locks feathering along your jaw. You giggled the second his lips kissed your shoulder, evening sunlight spilling across the meadow and encouraging heat to caress your skin.

“The student becomes the teacher,” you purred, “I even remembered to turn the safety on this time.”

“You’re damn right you remembered to turn the safety on,” the boy quipped sternly, his palms gliding downward to grip your hips and spin you around, “you almost took my kneecap off the last time.”

Furrowing your brows, you pursed your lip at him petulantly, “can we stop talking about that? It was a mistake you big idiot.”

“I know, I know,” Mingyu cooed, “a very, very, very dangerous mistake.”

You rolled your eyes as he unwound the black firearm from your fingers. He walked toward his jacket that sat on the blanket you’d strewn across the grass, making sure to place it back inside the pocket.

“You still need some more practice, but I think for today we can call it quits. How does that sound?”

The boy then fell back onto the blanket with his head titled to the side, his eyes staring up at you winsomely. With the sun flaring behind you, the vibrant streaks set the grass aflame, making it appear as though Mingyu was sitting in the centre of a fire. His skin twinkled like golden silk and his canines peaked between his lips in a smirk. Shrugging your shoulders impetuously, you stumbled toward the blanket and fell into the boy’s lap, squirming against his broad body until he became pinned beneath your weight. As though he were a glass vase, you gingerly swept your finger along his scarred brow.

“Sounds fine,” you hummed, “since I kinda wanna makeout with you right now.”

“I love how straightforward you are, baby.” Mingyu confessed with his intoxicated gaze drinking in your image, already imploring for a taste of the strawberry balm that defined the pretty arches of your mouth.

Unable to quell how your body yearned for him, you gave your eyes a toss and pressed your lips to his. Mingyu craned his neck forward in immediate desperation to feel more pressure against his mouth; however, he soon gave up his craning and allowed his elbows to give out beneath him. His hands snuck beneath your shirt, to which he placed soft squeezes against your ribcage, fingertips skimming lower and lower until they were running along the back hem of your shorts. You continued to straddle his waist as the kiss drawled further, rhythmically slow and sweet.

You didn’t think it was humanly possible for your chest to be so encompassed with fondness, yet here you were, brushing your digits through Mingyu’s tresses, pressing your forehead to his, encasing his lower lip between your teeth to experimentally tug until the flesh swelled and glistened in garnet. You weren’t really sure how you started dating, it just sort of happened. It was perhaps an escalation of lingering touches, infatuated glances, and hot, fever dreams that kept you both slamming awake at blue midnight.

After your first purge together, the connection between you strengthened, like welding two pieces of molten iron into one. It was an experience that ruined you, stripped you of any innocent fragments still clinging to your bone, and once the night came to an end and you were sitting on Mingyu’s bed with blood spatters sopped into your cloths, you burst into tears. Strangely, you weren’t sobbing out of pain, mortification, you were sobbing because you could. It was the only accurate way to depict the weird melancholic, hopeless lump in your throat.

You squeaked as Mingyu grew impatient of your slow kisses. His want was increasing and he couldn’t bear to hear the quiet mewls that kept slipping from your mouth. His strength effortlessly allowed him to flip you on your back, his mass keeping you slack against the blanket as his lips dotted your jaw, your ear’s cusp, until he craved to taste more of the natural salt on your skin and his kisses ventured further down your throat.

Mingyu began suckling at a sensitive patch near your pulse. The warmth of his tongue combined with his teeth, and you felt him scrape his canines sharply against your skin. It wasn’t until the boy nudged his thigh between your legs that your fingers lurched into his scalp, tugging the earth fronds tightly. You couldn’t help but buck up against him, summoning a growl from his chest that only made him press his fangs into the soft skin with more force; not enough to actually break the petal-thin flesh, but enough to leave deep, possessive indentations. The ecstasy drumming in your veins was insatiable.

And yet, you knew it couldn’t progress.

With a fragile whine you placed your hands against Mingyu’s chest and gave the giant a small push, his mouth regretfully detaching from the beautiful marks he was intent on leaving all over your body. He spoke coarsely, breathlessly, when his rosy face surfaced from your neck, though the glaze in his eyes had quickly softened out of fear he’d made you uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong? I wasn’t being too rough, was I?” He gathered your hand in his and kissed along your knuckles apologetically.

“No, not at all,” You mumbled, still dealing with the blare of crimson running through your veins, “I just… Don’t think we should, do it, in a field.”

The hollow grooves in Mingyu’s features immediately flushed with solace, a large sigh escaping from his chest as he allowed his head to tumble into your shoulder.

“Thank God, I thought I hurt you or something,” he heaved in relief.

Your heart sang wildly, knowing that he truly was a boy gentler than butterfly wings and softer than cotton. It was difficult to imagine him as the same boy who ruthlessly shoved a blade through a man’s windpipe, allowing thick trails of blood to slide from the open wound and create morbid puddles on the hard cement. The evening air seemed to turn cooler, the wind’s peaceful lilting now picking up with more vigor. Mingyu collapsed at your side, one of his long legs still tossed over your waist as you stroked his hair.

With the sun halfway behind the horizon, you gulped whilst watching the yellow sky fade into watered, fierce shades of orange.

“Mingyu?” You hummed.

“Yeah?” His warm breath scattered in a ticklish manner against your neck.

“What’s going to happen with you and Junhui?”

Mingyu stiffened instantly. Nibbling on your lower lip, you watched with sincere eyes as the boy lifted into a sitting position. You joined him, closely monitoring the contours of his face that had surely twisted at the mention of the sinister purger. There was no room to blame Mingyu for harbouring such distaste toward the boy. Junhui did swoop in and steal his ex-girlfriend fresh after the breakup and run purge night like he invented the device himself.

Still, you wondered if there could be something more. If there could be a more profound explanation for why the air was so stale between them.

“Nothing is going to happen,” Mingyu said flatly, “are you scared?”

Caught off guard by his sudden questioning, you stumbled over your syllables for a painful second, his gaze turning back to wrack you curiously.

“N-No, I was- I just- I was only wondering.”

“He’s too obsessed with himself to care about me. Don’t worry, okay? Nothing is going to happen, baby.” Mingyu said in a much lighter tone, his signature, canine smile quirking along his lips. 

Despite his calm protrusions, you could sense that something murky was swimming behind the curve in his eyes. The boy leaned backward and planted his lips against your forehead, leaving a small, adoring kiss. Shaking away the ominous tension that came with simply speaking the purger’s name, you grasped for Mingyu’s hand and smiled.

“Let’s head back into town.”

He set his jacket as well as the blanket in the backseat and climbed to sit at the wheel.

“Don’t forget about that, y’know,” you reminded him whilst gesturing to his jacket, “it’s not like there’s a gun in there or something.”

“A gun with the safety on.” He replied sheepishly, to which you simply huffed and stared out the window.

You stopped Mingyu when you were no less than a block away from your new apartment building, the tires crunching to a halt beside the common coffee shop.

“I’ll get out here,” you told him, “I’ll be fine to walk back to the complex. I just really want caffeine.”

Mingyu leaned over and pushed the car door open for you, his palm tenderly grazing your thigh as he found your lips. He gave you a quick goodbye kiss, and you felt flowers bloom between the bones of your ribcage.

“Text me when you get home, alright?” He reminded when you slid from the passenger seat.

Scurrying into the coffee shop, you already had an idea of what drink you’d like to get. As you stood off to the side waiting for an employee to call out your coffee, you fell into a slight trance, your eyes casting mistily across the cozy atmosphere whilst the sky began darkening beyond the clean window panes. You thought about Mingyu, how laughable it was that you were dating, and yet you knew you loved him like ink loves to kiss paper.

Hm, you chuckled inwardly, that girl sitting in that booth by the window, she looks like Yeeun, and that guy beside her really resembles Junhui. That’s funny.

That’s funny.

That’s… funny…

“Order 24, half decaf, two sugars one cream.”

To your inexplicable terror, heart-twisting dread, and every other repulsive emotion that could have cloaked you in that moment of realization, the couple sitting at the window booth was indeed Junhui and Yeeun. The employee called out your order again, this time a little louder, drawing customers to look left and right with puzzled glances. The nefarious couple was sitting across from two familiar faces, one with jet black hair brushed away from his forehead, the other disquieting with how vacant his face appeared, a grey beanie pulling back the fronds from his porcelain features, and a lollipop shoved between his lips.

It took you a minute, but you eventually recognized the lollipop boy as Wonwoo. He looked insanely different compared to your outdated, high school memories, where he was just a scrawny, fox-faced boy with the straightest black bangs you’d ever seen, always running around next to Minghao, getting pink in the face when the younger so much as smiled at him. It was evident that purging had completely hardened his face, his aura, to which he developed an almost sinister light. Whoever he was now, he definitely wasn’t the same boy. Jihoon sat next to him, impatiently spinning a stir stick between his fingers.

You didn’t know why you weren’t moving. Mingyu’s words rang in your head.

Are you scared?

Craving nothing more than for a sinkhole to form beneath your feet and swallow you whole, you did the sole thing your body permitted you to do; walk sternly out the coffee shop and pretend you never ordered a single thing.

God - I hope they didn’t see me. That would be the last thing I want, for Junhui and his purging buddies to have anything to do with me.

Jihoon and Wonwoo with Junhui was odd. Had they always been friends? Junhui never attended your high school either, rather he used to be a student at a prestigious private school you couldn’t ever dream of getting into.

Your apartment was close. You could distinguish its height amongst the low-cut buildings lining the sidewalk. If you just walked a little faster, you could be up the cement staircase, swinging open the glass doorway, and be safe within the front lobby. Titling your head back you quickly ogled at the sky. It wasn’t completely black yet, but there were distant tinges of dark, oily colours that pressed down like a heavy thumbprint amongst the grey. The wind picked up behind you, slamming into your backside in menacing howls.

Finally, you’d reached the cement steps—

But it was too late.

His tone was smoother than a crystal ball, lower than baritone, and incredibly seasoned at feigning genuineness. Hearing your name cascade from his mouth that was deceivingly shaped as a heart made your breath flatten. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, but it was too late to pretend you never heard his chant. Unwillingly, your body pivoted like a stone statue, your foot taking that one victorious step back as it left the staircase.

“You walk so fast, you could have been sprinting.”

“Exercise is good.” You nearly wheezed.

For the first time, you realized just how tall Junhui was, his body appearing as a shadowy mass as the wind blew the tails of his trench coat. His brows were slanted, lips quirked, his irises so rounded you could hardly see the white bits. He was handsome in the way that some people found graveyards entrancing. It was the eeriness that allured you.

“You left your coffee.” He stated.

“I realized I had somewhere to be.” You tried to hold his gaze, but it was impossible to evade the nervous eye fluttering.

“As anyone would, it’s getting late.”

The wind whistled between you, dark clouds swirling above your head as though the sky were a witch’s cauldron.

“I think it might rain,” you said meekly, “are you looking to ask me something?”

Junhui took a step forward. He’d never been this close to you before, maybe a few inches away from the tip of your nose. Your gaze tripped to his eye, the eye that Mingyu had driven his clenched fist into that one night, causing Junhui’s head to thrust back against the plaster. You swallowed the salty brick in your throat.

“I heard you like to purge now.” Junhui said with a smile. You swore his caramel gaze glinted with excitement.

Your blood froze. How did he know about that? Junhui saw through you like a translucent piece of plastic. He saw how you inwardly panicked.

“I was surprised,” he cooed, “you don’t seem like the type… But I suppose all that running around with Mingyu changed your morals.”

Your heart was beating at such a frantic pace you feared it may dislodge itself from your chest and land in your mouth.

“I’m so elated you found purpose,” his midnight fronds then fell mischievously before his eyes, keeping the candor of his secrets hidden from you, “the purge is a time of cleansing intended to help people like us find a little alleviation in the world. That one person whose been causing you grief? You won’t have to worry about their disgusting discrepancy that makes you so infuriated. It’s quite healing,” Junhui purred, “if you ask me.”

It felt as though someone just ripped your tongue from between your teeth. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. A splash of rain thumped your forehead, and yet you allowed the cold bead to trickle along the side of your nose and run onto your cheek. Junhui’s hand delicately raised, his thumb caressing the droplet away. He stood closer now, eliminating any room in which the wind could whisper through, his bangs tickling your forehead as his onyx pupils bore through your heated face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking toward your lips through his heavy lashes, his fingers pointing your chin upward, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt just because Mingyu can’t take care of you.”

“I-I trust him,” You managed to squeak, though it required every bone in your body to summon equal modicums of courage.

“C’mon,” Junhui seemed to taunt, “you know who I am, right? I can have any weapon, any blueprint, any ctv footage I want directly in my hands, and all it takes is a single phone call.” He grinned wolfishly. “Besides, Mingyu doesn’t have the most durable history of looking out for others.”

His grip on your chin hardened like steel, heart-shaped lips pressed lightly to your ear’s cusp, “you do know what happened to Minghao, don’t you?”

Your body turned more frigid than ice, the warm blood that pumped beneath your skin running colder with every second that Junhui stood, seeing straight through you and to his old friend he’d hurt so dearly. You instantly grew sick to your stomach. The universe beyond Junhui’s shadow was spinning wildly, darting in nauseating circles like a carousel. The images came in flickers; the truck pulling into the driveway, the window cranking down, the crack of the gun as its bullet pierced a shape in the darkness. No wonder Jihoon and Wonwoo were friends with Junhui. He had been the other person in Mingyu’s car.

You felt lightheaded, like you were going to faint.

“I’ll let you go, but just consider your options. Really, truly consider them.” Junhui murmured. “I’m sure you have some personal contentions kept covert beneath that kind tongue of yours. Given your participation, I know you can upheaval your need to feel purification. If you’re wise, you’ll cleanse with us, with me, as you are entitled to.”

Without a single ripple Junhui broke away, his touch drifting like the edges of a silk blanket from your cheek. Immediately afterward, a disturbing burst of wind whipped between your bodies, inducing a long shiver that crept down your spine and fizzled at your fingertips. Your throat felt like cracked sandpaper and your chest bottomed out with a horrendous, wrenching fear.

Junhui knew that Mingyu didn’t fear him, but he knew that you feared him, and he knew that your fear would grow to consume you now that you’d been introduced to the devastating truth. 

The radio was on, high-pitched static and monotonous advisement rasping through the car’s sound system. It was clear that in time, there would be a chorus of other harsh noises leaping to fill the sky, any pockets of oxygen, and the spaces that lingered between your hazy breathing. Yet in the dense heat, you could care less.

This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of The Annual Purge, sanctioned by the government.

It was hot, burning. The air felt like scorching linen that pressed fire into your skin. Mingyu’s teeth scraped along your collarbones, the thin layer of flesh that mapped over them singed with bruises and bites and kisses that still glistened.

Weapons of Class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.

The radio continued to blip. Your fingers tangled through his earth-toned tresses, gripping the thick strands and tugging on them as your throat started to ache. The windows were splotched with oily fingerprints that had been left earlier, when you first climbed onto his lap.

Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Your legs quivered over his thighs, his hands guiding your hips with such a brute strength that the pain welled into numbness and everything that surrounded you seemed nonexistent, save for where your bodies connected like a jewel to its staff. His forehead fell on your shoulder, groans muffled as they brushed your hot skin. He continued to hit deep, and you knew you couldn’t hold on for much longer, the sparks catching a foreshadowing flame 

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

It was then, when your weight came down on his lap for the final time, his hips stuttering upward at the perfect moment, that your head tossed back and you felt the energy rip from your body in a single scream. Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you flush against him, working the pleasure for all its worth. You then buried your face into his neck, a soft sea of your whimpers filling the thick air whilst Mingyu emptied inside you, filling you with warmth.

Police, fire and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7am, when the Purge concludes.

For a moment, you just needed to close your eyes and breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat, feel the familiar heat spread throughout your abdomen. He squeezed your hips tight, and his words were barely audible, attempting to drown over the radio’s static as well as the heavy breaths from your lungs. You heard them, even if your ears really had to strain to decipher the syllables whispered at the peak of his sensitivity. Mingyu said he loved you, and he meant it with every ounce of his soul as he felt your body shake in his arms.

Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and a nation, reborn.

And you would have meekly hummed the words in return, if the sudden cacophony of a siren didn’t shred the air like pastry, startling your system that had just come down from the best cloud nine experience you could ever fathom. It would have been wondrous to bask in the afterglow, to trace patterns on his biceps and run your lips over the scar in his brow.  It had all been purloined from you in an instant. Though your centre still ached, you crept off his lap and into the passenger seat, cleaning yourself up as best you could.

“Here,” Mingyu held out his jacket that he’d tossed in the backseat, probably since your training in the fields, “it’ll keep you warm if it actually rains tonight.”

“Thanks.” You murmured whilst slipping the fabric around your body, noting that something a little heavy was inside one of the pockets. You remembered the gun was still inside. Suddenly, Mingyu started the car, the engine purring lowly and musty clouds of exhaust puffing into the empty parking lot.

He tapped the steering wheel with his palm, “where should we head?”

When the sirens faded away, you looked to him and smiled, “wherever you want.”

The red sun seemed anxious to disappear, for its rays cracked across the sky like bloodied, broken ice, hurriedly pushing itself further below the horizon as Mingyu drove into town. The Purge never introduced an easy atmosphere to stomach, yet tonight, you felt the bile in your throat was more acidic than usual. Maybe it was because you knew a huge secret, one that tied Mingyu’s hatred to Junhui’s existence.

You didn’t confess to Mingyu anything. Every word that seeped like a venom from Junhui’s lips was sealed within you, and only you. It was already painful enough for Mingyu to brace through such a traumatic incident. There would come a time when he told you his reasons for hating Junhui, and that time had yet to come.

Even so, the terror was exhausting. The first few nights after your encounter with Junhui, your slumber was plagued by gruesome nightmares, his comfortable laughter, and the black fire that seeped in his eyes as though he were some underworld creature. You’d slam awake in a cold sweat. At times you’d be so drenched that you needed to take a shower before going back to sleep, that is, if your mind allowed you to. Sometimes you would phone Mingyu and lie to him, tell him you needed to hear the brass in his voice as your nighttime spell.

You never told him about the nightmares, the panic, or the anxiety. Now the Purge had returned after its position was quelled in the nation for a year. Your head turned to glance more thoroughly out the window after you flitted past a man holding an axe tool, a painted mask shielding his face.

It didn’t take long for the streets to begin flooding with people of the same stature, and if their eyes of thirst were hidden behind costumes, then it became more than evident in the weaponry that adorned their guises. Mingyu seemed calm as he stared out the dash, his eyes giving away nothing that would hint toward his inner complex. You sighed and let your cheek rest in your palm, your gaze unable to stop tracing each and every person that emerged from the dark crevices.

About forty-five minutes had passed, driving around the quieter outskirts of the city. Looking into the side-mirror, you watched as the occasional killing occurred behind you.

Mingyu smiled. “The night just started and you already look like you’re over it.”

The echo of a gun pierced the air. You cringed slightly.

“I don’t know if I’m over it or not. I guess I’m thinking about how I’ll ever suppress witnessing senseless murder, y’know?”

The boy gently stuck his arm out, across the glove compartment, his thumb stroking your cheek for a fond moment.

“We don’t have to hang around. I can drive up to the field where we’ll be away from the worst of it. What do you want, baby?” He asked.

You scratched at your knuckles and puffed through your nose. “I don’t even know what I want. Am I supposed to feel this way?”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, “what way?”

“Melancholic, sorta like everything seems pointless. How do you feel?”

Mingyu took a wide turn to avoid a collection of smashed bottles that glinted on the road, increasing the vehicle’s speed steadily as the chaos increased. Like your first Purge, you saw the distant glow of burning buildings appear across the lake, at the other side of the city.

“I don’t even know if I can describe it anymore.” He shrugged.

You turned your head to look at him, deciding to ask something rather abrupt, but a topic you were curious on nonetheless. 

“Why did you start purging?”

The boy’s canines pushed into his bottom lip as he probed his mind.

“Because I was friends with someone who wanted to. Even involving yourself once makes enemies. You can’t hide from it after that.” 

Staring at the side of his face, you felt almost dirty for knowing a pivotal piece belonging to Mingyu’s past.

“Were you friends with Junhui?”

There was a thick silence as you waited for Mingyu’s response.

“At one point, yes.” He admitted, his words sounding distasteful. 

You shifted up in the seat, stretching out your hand to rub Mingyu’s bicep. 

“I don’t care if you were. I know you aren’t the same as him, and that this night changes people. You don’t let it consume you like he does.”

Mingyu took a turn through a wide alleyway to avoid a hostile situation escalating at the far end of the intersection. You didn’t get a good look as the sky was continuing to lose its orange light, but the flash of the group’s masks and weapons was convincing enough to take a different path.

You couldn’t help but note that Mingyu’s eyes had become slightly watered.

“It was never about purification,” he told you, “I never had any specific target, or someone I detested. Neither did Jun. But he comes from a family that relies on purging as their income. His mom designs weapons and his dad works for some underground branch, assigning bounties. He just isn’t the same as us. I was lucky if I could even hold a gun in my hands without trembling. I had to learn how to desensitize myself. For Jun, it was almost natural.”

A familiar sickness made your stomach twirl.

“It’s sad he had to grow up like that.” You sighed, glancing out the window whilst Mingyu remained silent. 

A few minutes later, and you were laughing. “I didn’t mean to make the mood so terrible. I was just wondering.”

“I know,” Mingyu said, his lips curling warmly, “I can’t blame you for being curious, baby. I just don’t think back on my past all that much.”

He then gave you a thoughtful look, and your chest started fluttering embarrassingly fast. “I like focusing on right now, where I have you.”

It was quiet again, to which you let your thoughts roam astray. 

You pictured the night your father disappeared, the night your mother’s life was taken away from her when she wasn’t even capable of defending herself. The feeling of coming down the stairway to broken glass, spilt moonlight, and a dirtied face lugging her away couldn’t be compared to any pain. And daring to unlock that enraged, bitter half of yourself, you thought to applying pressure on the trigger that killed the man responsible for her death.

Those memories influenced your appreciation, your gratitude, toward Mingyu, the boy who you had always admired at a distance, never knowing he could be so tender and benevolent. It was possible that you could have turned out similar to Junhui if you let your indignation take control. Seeing how Mingyu always remained so grounded helped you keep your footing, and you hoped there never came a day when you started looking at the world how Junhui did.

All of sudden, your musing was shattered when a pick-up truck roared from an alleyway and soared into the street, plumes of grey smoke pumping from its pipes as the tires screeched against the asphalt.

”Mingyu, watch out!” You screeched, gripping the steering wheel.

At the same time, Mingyu veered away from the truck, your heart nearly tearing a hole right through your chest as the head of your vehicle rammed into a light post. The collision jolted your body forward, though the seatbelt kept you strapped in and unscathed. Mingyu cursed through his teeth.

“Fuck, are you okay?” He rasped.

“I-I’m fine. Let’s just get the hell out of here.” You replied shakily.

Mingyu’s facial expression relaxed for less than a second. He appeared ready to oblige, though casting another inspection into his features relayed a nauseating truth. Suddenly, Mingyu’s hand gripped the back of your neck and he forced your head down between your legs. You heard it, the crisp echo of a gunshot. Except there was no bullet that punctured the glass and made fragments rain over your body. There was no dent in the metal door either. The barrel was purposely aimed to a different area, and as the second shot fired off, you felt like passing out.

They’re shooting at the tires.

Mingyu whispered to you with a coarse urgency, “this way!”

He’d managed to open his door, your only choice of escape a labyrinth of alleyways that lay beyond the mangled car. The alleys were dark, damp, and most likely rife with impending danger. Your throat closed in when you attempted to swallow. You could see the blade that Mingyu had collected from the console, already tight in his hand. Licking your leathered lips, you squirmed out his side after he’d gone through. He was squatted down, waiting for you.

Just as you joined him, you cast a glance above Mingyu’s head, your blood turning into ice as a slim figure appeared around the back end of the car. It was a man, dressed in a black raincoat, long and glossy. He was wearing a dirtied, white mask, where kohl paint was runny down the large eyes and the mouth was outlined in a red marker. Next to his side was the long barrel of a shotgun, and you felt unimaginably dizzy. Mingyu immediately identified the terror that leaked into your gaze, and with a thick gulp, he dared stare over his shoulder.

“Hey Mingyu,” the stranger mumbled, taking the pointed chin of the mask and tipping it upward, revealing a fox-like face, “long time no see.”

Mingyu wrapped his fingers around your hand and stood up slowly, ensuring your body was sheltered by his size. You breathed as quietly as your vandalized chest would allow, your diaphragm keening to erupt. 

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu echoed, “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Didn’t mean to scare you or anything.” The boy said, his voice very deep and smooth. The depth reverberated in your chest and made your skin crawl.

“Are you crazy, dude?” Mingyu growled. “You shot out my fucking tires.”

Wonwoo scratched the nape of his neck. “I was just following orders.”

You had no idea what was happening. The only piece of concrete knowledge that hadn’t been fogged over in tangible fear was that you could still hear incessant firing in the distant, chaotic screaming and rioting. Looking down to the blade that glinted in Mingyu’s palm, you were able to plant a little reassurance in yourself knowing of his skill and ability to stay grounded. Keeping your mouth shut, you held Mingyu’s hand in a vice grip.

“Following orders from who? What are you talking about? Are you wired?”

“It’s understandable you would think that,” Wonwoo sighed, “but I’m not. If I were though, your death might be a little easier.”

“Since when are you supposed to kill me?” Mingyu sounded flat out bewildered.

It was then that it dawned on you: Mingyu really had no idea Wonwoo was still a part of Junhui’s brigade. 

Grinding your teeth together in contemplation, you finally decided to swallow the grain in your throat and break the truth. Getting close to Mingyu’s ear, you whispered to him what you knew, no matter how much of a fable it may be perceived as. Visibly, his body stiffened. His fingers gripped the blade’s handle with an unprecedented rage. 

“What are you doing?” Mingyu implored, candor in his despair. “Even after what he did to Minghao? What the hell is holding you to him?”

“It’s nothing personal, but as you know already, Junhui is filthy rich,” Wonwoo gloomed, cocking the barrel once more, “and he’s promised me some things.”

Mingyu clenched his jaw. “You mean more of those drugs he keeps stealing from his dad’s lab? Wonwoo, what the fuck happened to you? The last time I heard from you, you were getting clean, you were going to start fresh!”

There was an unorthodox twinkle in his black stare, oddly full of emotion, hurt, repressed pain that cut deeper inside than out. 

“I tried,” Wonwoo stated, a slight anger tainting his voice, “I went to three different rehabilitation clinics. I took a vacation to the rural springs and received lessons in guided meditation and bought myself a journal so I could document my success in getting clean. And you know what? I haven’t touched that journal since the day I fucking bought it. Tell me, Mingyu. How the fuck am I supposed to care about staying clean, how the fuck am I supposed to care about anything when I saw the love of my life get fucking shot right in front of me?”

Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, “Wonwoo, I--, I know that was horrible, I know that hurt you and--”

“Just shut up,” the elder interrupted flatly, “maybe today I’ll actually feel something when I put this barrel between your eyes.”

It was impossible to stand by and remain silent. Chewing on your bottom lip, you gathered a modicum of courage and poked your head around Mingyu’s shoulder.

“So you’re going to kill us just because Junhui wants you to? That’s how you’re going to live the rest of your life? Listening to his psychotic fantasies about purification and entitlement?”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw taunt.

“I know you loved Minghao, I know your life hasn’t felt the same since. Minghao was Mingyu’s best friend too. You weren’t the only one who lost somebody. Do you think when I came downstairs at fourteen years old and saw my mother get pulled away through the window that I wasn’t upset, angry, confused at the world? Junhui just sees you as a pawn to delegate the matters he doesn’t want to dip his hands into, but you’re a real person. Wake up and act like it!”

For even just a fraction of a second, Wonwoo’s shoulders slumped, his finger that was feathering the gun’s trigger drifted from contact, and the stoic cloud in his eyes fuzzed a little. You were starting to feel confident. Yet just as easily as the feeling came to you, you were caught off guard by an arm that slid around your neck and lurched you backward, against a hard chest.

Mingyu barked immediately, his blade drawn and eyes wildly dilated as he turned to face the person responsible for holding onto you. Biting the inside of your mouth, you squirmed and thrashed and kicked, until something cold pressed into your temple and suddenly the energy evaporated from your body like dew droplets on an August day. 

Mingyu’s voice sounded rusty as he gaped again. “Jihoon?!”

Wonwoo piped up suddenly, and his eyes turned cold once more. “Be careful, dammit. She’s the one we can’t afford to bruise up.”

Jihoon’s arm was now wrapped around your neck, pressing against your windpipe and causing your air supply to falter. You knew it was a gun that was poking sharply into your temple. 

Mingyu’s gaze was wild and rife with fire. He growled between his teeth like a wolf. “Don’t even fucking think about it, Jihoon.”

Wonwoo stepped forward and shook his gun at the boy who was closing off on your breathing. “Junhui wants that one,” he pressed the snout of his weapon into your chin, “alive.”

Jihoon sulked, his voice rumbling in his chest, “So what’s our fun tonight? We kill Mingyu and then pack up?”

You wriggled again in Jihoon’s arms, tempted to gnaw right into his wrist. “Can we not kill anybody?!”

“Calm down,” Wonwoo instructed, “I hate shouting. If any of you shout I’m planting a bullet in your brain.”

“You’re such a bore,” Jihoon whined, pressing into your windpipe with more force, painting speckles of white across your vision. Mingyu was bubbling with rage, like a teapot left on the burner for too long, his teeth clamping down so tightly his whole face was aching.

Wonwoo used the muzzle of the gun to tip your chin toward the moonlight. “A word of advice. Stop struggling and you won’t get hurt.”

“H-He’s hurting me,” you attempted to coherently spit past the pressure concocted against your throat. Jihoon was issuing enough force to make your eyes water and your head spin. Mingyu piped up, but Wonwoo was swifter and beat him to it.

“Lighten your grip.” He told Jihoon.

“I’m not even holding her that tightly!” The boy protested. Wonwoo’s face didn’t crack. He just repeated himself with an underlying menace.

“Lighten. Your. Grip.”

“It’s all pretending! Can’t you see? They’re trying to distract you so Mingyu can shove that blade through your back. Don’t be so fucking soft, Wonwoo. Look! I’m hardly touching—“

Bang.

Wonwoo dug his gun right into Jihoon’s forehead and pulled the trigger, the strict barrier against your throat immediately releasing. A fresh gulp of air hastily entered your lungs as you stumbled, Jihoon’s body folding onto the sidewalk from the corner of you eye. Mingyu quickly caught you, cupped your face in his hands and wiped the beaded sweat at your forehead. He kept whispering to you that you were okay, repeated the words in a soothing, husky mantra, his thumbs stroking your jaw in comforting sweeps. The ringing in your ears was unfathomably painful, it stung and stung and stung.

“Well,” Wonwoo announced with a despondent sigh, setting the gun over his shoulder, “I really do hate yelling.”

Mingyu’s kissed your forehead briefly. Your lips were still dry and they struggled to form a word of thanks to Wonwoo. The boy shrugged.

“He was holding you kind of tightly.”

Mingyu gasped, “no fucking kidding.”

Wonwoo sighed. “I guess I don’t expect to live much longer now that I’ve gone and wasted my companion here with my last few bullets. Not to mention I have  prolonged the existence of your life, Mingyu, which I was strictly ordered not to do. It was nice to meet your little partner in crime too.”

“What are you talking about?” Mingyu questioned whilst gathering you into his side.

“I didn’t follow through on my order. I can’t bring myself to do it. ” Wonwoo mumbled. “We’ll catch up in the afterlife or something. Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. You’ll probably be with Minghao while I deservedly rot. One of life’s many mysteries, right?”

There wasn’t much of an opportunity to process the situation, not when a gunshot echoed from down the alleyway and pierced the boy in his temple. The shotgun clamped in his hand clattered against the cold, concrete sidewalk, and his mask clattered off his head. His body joined the likes of Jihoon who’d been staring up at the night sky with dead, glazed eyes, a trail of red leaking down his nose. Your head pivoted and you felt a surge of vomit climb to the back of your mouth, for the person behind the trigger was Yang Yeeun, her pearl earrings flashing against the silver moonlight.

“Horrendous.” Her accent was thick with venom, heels clicking down the alleyway as she stalked in her black trousers and white dress shirt.

Intimidation sweltered against your skin at just her attire. The fact she dressed expensively for the night proved she wasn’t expecting to get in any confrontation that would result in her own blood being spilt.

“I expected Jihoon to cause trouble, but not Wonwoo. He was so promising. I guess he really did need drugs to stay sane.”

She stepped over a corpse you hadn’t noted lying face down in the alley, growling between her teeth.

“Filthy,” Yeeun remarked without a grain of empathy, “nothing but filth.”

Mingyu gripped your wrist and you felt your body stumble behind him. Keeping your arms drawn against his back and softly breathing, you inhaled the musky scents of damp, nighttime air and car exhaust. Though you couldn’t directly see Yeeun, her voice was still audible, lacquered in such a feigned delicacy it reminded you of Junhui. Mingyu hadn’t said a thing. He didn’t have to speak for you to know his heart was decaying.

“There’s my sweet boy.” Yeeun cooed. She was close now, so close you peered between Mingyu’s legs and saw her shiny heels standing in blood spatters. 

She regarded Mingyu like they were still together, like they still reflected the image of romance that was envied by so many people, you included. Her arm extended, pale, numb fingers brushing along his amber cheek. You wanted to scream at her to never touch him again. It was her own mistake to let Mingyu go, when he was positively in love with her and preached their future with honeyed words, like an artist who preaches with paint.

“You know, I miss you,” she hummed, tracing the flint of his jaw, “I’m so terribly sorry you had to witness your old best friends get a bullet to the brain, but, that is what happens when tensions are high, and, you know, we can’t afford to let many errors slip past us. Now, let’s not let that put a damper on the night. It’s still young, and so much has yet to happen. How about you come with me?”

You knew there was a handgun she was keeping pressed to her leg right now, and that if neither of you complied, it would be put to good use. Mingyu hadn’t opened his mouth. His lips were tight and his eyes were concentrated. Maybe he was trying to scheme.

Yeeun stretched out her gun and let the muzzle clink with Mingyu’s knife, trying to push the weapon from his hand.

“Just drop this and follow me, sweetheart. Due to these unforeseen events, there’s been a change and your presence has been urgently requested.”

Quicker than expected, Mingyu complied. He let the blade untwine from his grasp and rattle against the ground. If he did have some sort of plan, you were hoping that giving up his only weapon was part of it.

“She can come too,” Yeeun purred, “Junhui wants to see both of you.”

Yeeun trudged behind you, her weapon drawn, a manicured nail feathering upon the trigger just in case one of you attempted something of trickery. Tall, grimy buildings surrounded you, leading up to the black sky, where the stars gazed down in lamentation. Mingyu’s fingers were wrapped around your wrist with such steely strength that you felt your circulation dwindle, though the tiny, tingling feeling would never surpass the fear that sat like a pound of tar in your stomach. Similar to your first purge, tears pushed at your ducts, though there was a certain exhaustion shrouding your body that prevented them from falling.

Despite your unstable condition, the possibility of death snickering right in your face, the wavering thought that either Junhui or Yeeun could imbue a torturous fate, you were worried about Mingyu.

Yeeun was playing him expertly. She knew it wasn’t her heart that cracked after their breakup, it was Mingyu that suffered independently.  Only he bit the nail, only he felt the salt mix with his wounds, and only he would welt in self-contemplation over a love that he nurtured, alone. If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate? Would he be afraid of hurting someone he used to treasure so dearly? You didn’t doubt his affections for you. His heart was strong, but what if Yeeun’s deceit was stronger?

The labyrinth of alleyways had finally led you to a dead end. Your wrist shook in Mingyu’s grasp, for the man nonchalantly leaning against the solid wall was none other than—

“Junhui,” Yeeun cawed, “you won’t believe what the fuck just happened. Wonwoo popped Jihoon. He’s dead, should have brought more crew instead of displacing them like we did.”

She finished her sentence by fitting her gun right snug at the back of your head.

Junhui spat onto the floor before he unstuck himself from leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark trench coat.  

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, “using Wonwoo and Jihoon was a squander anyways. I could have concluded both their lives at a much more efficient pace. I’m guessing you took care of the traitor?”

Yeeun cackled, “right though the side of his head. He fell like a stack of cards.”

“It’s a real disappointment,” Junhui huffed, “since the beginning Wonwoo and Jihoon have shown the utmost loyalty for me and my craft. But, I guess this just demonstrates how purifying this device truly is. We’re ridding the streets of scum, aren’t we?”

Mingyu released your wrist, and you felt like a bomb had just dropped to the soles of your feet. His lips parted and his voice was deep. Hearing him speak allowed your heartbeat to calm, even with Yeeun’s gun taunt into your hair.

“The streets will never be rid of scum until you’re over and done with.”

Junhui cocked his head, his mouth falling open and his eyes twinkling as though a tiny flame had ignited in their inky depths.

“And here is the biggest traitor of them all!” 

Junhui tossed his head back and ludic laughter echoed into the compressing air, “how do you suppose you’ll rid me, Mingyu? Are you going to give me another black eye? Curse at me? Damn me to hell and back because of what happened that night? Damn me behind my back because I took Yeeun away from you? The girl you once loved and valued with your every essence?”

It was then that Junhui shifted his sights on you, his lips pulling wide in a smile.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mingyu, but your partner and I exchanged a very compelling conversation a while ago. I guess word never got around to you.”

Junhui’s boots dragged over the crumbs of dirt and asphalt that littered the ground, his presence nearing closer and closer. When you tried to lower your head, Yeeun’s gun pressed with a stricter force into your scalp, filling you with enough fear to keep your gaze straight.

“You’re very fortunate, Mingyu. To have such a pretty thing to call your own.”

Junhui’s hand reached for your chin. His touch was colder than the dark shadows that masked his soul, and it engendered a shiver to slither along your spine. 

“Don’t put your hands anywhere near her!” Mingyu seethed, to which Yeeun instantly switched her gun to point against the back of his skull.

You could see his jaw clench from your peripheral vision. But Junhui didn’t listen, and his thumb pushed down on your bottom lip as though he intended to brand your skin with his insanity. He spoke lowly, smoothly, confidence lathered into his every syllable.

“Do you know why I did it?” Junhui stared into your eyes and asked.

“Dd-did w-what?” You warbled.

“It wasn’t because I was jealous of Wonwoo and Minghao, or because I had some personal contention against the boy. I didn’t even think when I pressed the trigger. I spent the whole night adding so much blood to my hands, that the moment I saw another shadow move, my body just - it just acted for me. Like it was an instinct. I wasn’t sad... But I wasn’t happy. I only knew I was no longer myself... I was someone stronger, someone enhanced, and that is the greatness of this evening!”

Junhui clutched your shoulders and shook them, his eyes alight with a certain derangement that petrified you to your core.

“You’re reborn! Don’t you get it? You’re no longer tied down by the concept of goodness, and your free will is truly free. When will you two realize that--”

Out of nowhere, Mingyu shoved into your side so aggressively you stumbled sideways and collapsed on the sooty ground. The air was knocked from your lungs and your heart pumped like it had been electrocuted. Fuzzy splotches of colour coalesced before your watered vision, projecting nothing but an obnoxious blur. There was shouting, the loud crack of a harmless gunshot, and scuffling that emanated from every direction. Before you could separate the blacks from the blues, something cold wrapped around your wrist and dragged you backward. Then, your entire body was thrust up against the brick, scrapes and bruises already forming on your bare skin.

When your head stopped spinning and the world dulled down from reflecting three versions of the same image, you were shuttering, whimpering, as Junhui held you firmly against the wall.

Across the alleyway you could see that Mingyu had Yeeun pressed to the floor, his palm covering her throat whilst he took advantage of his weight to keep her slim frame still. He fought to unwind the firearm from her fingers, but when he did, the weapon was digging into her forehead. You wanted to scream at him to pull the trigger, to fucking end her already, even if your throat felt like it had been scraped of all moisture and scrubbed with a pad of steel wool. You heard Junhui snicker, his mouth twisted cynically. It was evident what he was thinking, for it was identical to your own thought.

“Like hell you’ll do it!” Junhui screamed.

If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate?

Love. It was just as much a weapon as it was a comfort. And as Mingyu stared down at Yeeun, silver pearls of water slipping from her brown eyes, the eyes he had fallen for, you felt consumed by terror, that your life may truly end at this exact location. Mingyu proved your doubts were transparent and his finger jammed against the trigger. Except – there was nothing, nothing at all. The gun had no ammunition left. Yeeun sighed heavily.

“Don’t do this,” she mewled, still wriggling beneath him, full-fledged tears pumping down her flushed, scarlet face, “I never meant to hurt you. It’s just – you wouldn’t understand why – he didn’t leave me any choice!”

Mingyu released his ironclad grip over her throat and used his fingers to sweep the stray hairs from her eyes.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He abruptly snapped. “You lie through your teeth like it’s the only thing you’re good for. You don’t love anyone or anything. I bet you lost that silver spoon you were born with, huh? Daddy’s security systems aren’t as bulletproof as he thought they were? So you had to run to Junhui?”

She gargled slightly on her own saliva, coughing a bit of foam, though she never tried to respond.

Mingyu lifted Yeeun’s head in his hands. Squeezing your eyes shut didn’t make the snapping noise any less gruesome. If anything, it only amplified the sickness building in your gut, it only amplified Junhui’s enraged storm of cursing as his companion’s body went limp, her eyes stained with not even a smidgen of regret. If there was any regret at all, it was that she couldn’t have killed you herself. Hope began trickling back into your body, and, taking advantage of Junhui’s distracted vacancy, you attempted to give him a swift kick.

And yet that thought was a mistake in itself. Junhui lost his composure, his sophistication.

Your struggling only encouraged the anger spilling inside him, prompted him to uncover a blade that was hidden inside his coat, its silver gleam reflecting off your eyes for a millisecond before you felt its sharp edge nuzzle into your skin, somewhere around your stomach. A surge so violent and unbridled soared through your body, forced you to lean over the blade where your eyes soaked up the unholy sight of Junhui’s knuckles pale as snowflakes wrapped around the handle. You spluttered out nothing but air, watched as dark liquid began seeping from the wound and wetting your shirt.

Junhui took it upon himself to slowly, ever so slowly, extract the knife from its crevice, his teeth grinding together as just the point remained in your flesh. Then, he dug the blade back in through its opening, giving the weapon a slight twist. 

When Mingyu had risen from Yeeun’s corpse and tore Junhui away from you, a silent sob wobbled off your lips. At some point that your mind was too fogged to remember, you were sitting, slumped against the wall as thick, grey storm clouds crowded the night sky. When you could no longer find solace amongst the stars, your gaze flitted across the alleyway, to where Junhui and Mingyu were a vicious tangle of limbs that punched and kicked and pulled. It reminded you of the party, the stupid party that had somehow preluded your path to cross with Mingyu’s. They were shouting at one another, at war for Junhui’s knife that kept slipping from their grasps like butter.

Wincing, you stretched an arm to fold over your stomach, attempting to apply even the meekest amount of pressure to your wound. Your brow furrowed when something hard nudged against your arm, a harsh weight that seemed to sit inside your jacket.

Well, it wasn’t your jacket, it was Mingyu’s.

Chewing down on the inside of your mouth, you ignored the pain that cut through your every nerve and fought to wind your hand within the jacket, fingers poking and shuffling around until they brushed the pocket stitched to the inside. Despite your battered condition, you nearly yelped when you gripped the handgun, the same gun that you’d used to practice your aim in the fields. There was not a moment to squander, nor a moment to think. Your whole body screamed as you drew the weapon from its pouch, fingers slippery with blood as you fought to turn the safety off.

Your entire arm shook like a brittle leaf in mid-autumn, yet you still held the gun forth, your head banging, your vision blurred, bile pushing and stinging against your throat. Junhui had Mingyu pinned to the grit, his boot heavy on Mingyu’s wrist. Raised in the air was the knife, stained with red globs of your blood. It was just like the party, except it wasn’t a tiny glass shard sealed between Junhui’s fingers. It was a literal hacking device. There was nothing you could do to stop your arm from shaking. You had no more ammunition apart from the bullet left in the gun.

What if I miss, what if I miss Junhui and hit Mingyu? What if I hit Junhui but it isn’t enough to stop him? I don’t think I can do this. I can’t I can’t I can’t—

“So,” Junhui barked, his vocal chords strained and hoarse, “where’s your little guardian angel now, huh? If it weren’t for your girlfriend fucking getting in the way two years ago, you would have had it, Mingyu. But now there’s no one to save you. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. Finally, I’m entitled to purge how I’ve always wanted.”

The tears finally erupted from their ducts, streaming down your dusted cheeks and dripping at your chin. You felt like a child, a blubbering infant.

But it wasn’t worth it to lose Mingyu.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened when you sucked back the distracting binds of your self-doubt and clamped the trigger down. It didn’t register that the bullet had struck Junhui’s head until his body collapsed off of Mingyu’s lap, lying lax on the pebbles like a sack of flour. It didn’t register that you had saved Mingyu’s life until the first few cold splashes of rain thumped against your forehead, dampened your lashes, and trickled along your scuffed flesh. The gun dropped from your fingers and the whole world went black.

The next time you awoke, you were faced with a pair of glimmering, penny eyes that rapidly blinked, tiny crinkles mapping along wet, amber skin. An instant pain jolted into your gut when you attempted to fidget, and a whine nearly tore itself from between your cracked lips.

“Don’t try to move,” you heard a rough voice, “stay still as best you can.”

“Mingyu?” You croaked, reaching upward to stroke his cheek. 

His fingers coiled gently around your wrist, bringing the scars that were carved like ancient hieroglyphics to his lips. The second he pressed kisses to the old wounds, you smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake,” he rasped, his eyes soft, gleeful, “you fucking saved me, y’know? It’s because of you I’m still here, still breathing. All because of you.”

Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Wait… So, I’m not… dreaming?” 

Despite Mingyu’s earlier advisement to stay still, you forced your body upward, though you faced immediate repercussions as a jarring bolt struck you in the stomach. Mingyu attempted to make you relax once more, but you refused to listen to his cooing. Distant thunder rolled in the distance, and you could see a pale glow beaming behind the flossy clouds that shielded the sky. Seven o’clock was probably on the brink of arrival. You were still in the alleyway. Casting a glance toward your new wounds, you noticed that Mingyu had wrapped his jacket tightly around your waist.

“Now would be a good time for lots of gauze, right?” You smiled.

Mingyu settled his palm delicately at the back of your neck and pushed your lips together, a smile slowly dancing along his mouth as he felt your fingers thread through his locks. Just like Mingyu had predicted, a misty rainfall was spraying from the early morning sky, infinitesimal droplets of glass sitting upon his skin as though he were a springtime rose. You kissed his lips again, and again, and again, until the pain in your stomach became too much of a distraction and your head was falling to the crook of his neck. Stealing a glance around the alleyway, you couldn’t help but notice that Junhui and Yeeun’s bodies had been laid beside each other.

You thought about what Wonwoo had said.

Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. One of life’s many mysteries, right?

Well, at least Junhui and Yeeun would share an eternal fate in the one place they truly belonged, and it wasn’t exactly a mystery where that place was either.

“Mingyu,” you reached for his shirt and gave it a small tug.

He peered down at you through the fanned arch of his lashes.

“Are you still in a lot of pain, baby? I wish I could take it all away from you. I’m sure the medical services will be here soon, I promi—“

“I love you.”

Mingyu stuttered over the humid air. “O-Oh – I, um, I – I love you too… But, I think you already knew that.”

A molten blush crawled up from the column of his neck and flushed throughout his face akin to a raspberry burn. Though it ached to giggle, you couldn’t evade in doing so, your eyes turned to crescent moons as more golden splashes of dawn light ebbed through the clouds. Somewhere in the distance, you no longer heard gunshots, incoherent slurs, riots and the skid of tires creating friction against pavement. You heard the whirr of emergency sirens and helicopter wings, medical services beginning to flood throughout the city like a creek. It was over. Mingyu was still tangible, warm, smiling whilst he pressed kisses against your forehead.

You don’t know how, but you survived the chaos, you survived Wonwoo and his ludic friend, Jihoon. You survived Yeeun and you survived Junhui.

You survived the Purge together.

✎ a/n: ugh. this is just one of those fics where you become v attached to the characters. i was able to write this quicker than expected (MINUS THE STUPID TWIST THAT STUMPED ME) bc i was truly invested in the plot, and i rly adored every moment of it. actually, this fic was supposed to be posted ages ago, i think last year? but last year was terrible in terms of my health and wellbeing, so i kinda forgot this fic existed as i went on my hiatus. anywho, in my opinion, the first purge film was the best.

i haven’t watched any of the newer purge movies tho, so they could be good! since im a horror/thriller fan, i liked the aspect of vulnerability the purge brought and how it forced ppl to invest in their capacity for violence, especially when the ppl they loved were involved. obviously - only for the fic lmao. bruh, during a real purge i am going to lock myself in the crawl space with a blanket and some cheerios. ALSO!!!! A HAPPY ENDING!!!!!! be proud of me!!!! this was an adventure!!! i hope you can enjoy the story as much as i!! hearing ur thots is appreciated as always!

[a-libra-writes]

How the GoT Characters React To Your Kidnapping

No one asked for this & its another weirdly specific long one, bc this is westeros and shit aint sunshine and roses so idk lets just do this oh gods why is it so long

To the Gendry & Mance anons: i got u, fam ♡ 

In this preference, you'll be rescued by: Ned Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Benjen Stark, Jory Cassel, Dolorous Edd, Mance Rayder, Tormund Giantsbane, Theon Greyjoy, Yara Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Missandei, Grey Worm, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Jamie Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn, Petyr Baelish, Stannis Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Margaery Tyrell, Brynden Tully, Edmure Tully, Brienne of Tarth, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Oberyn Martell, Beric Dondarrion, Gendry

NED STARK

It happened many years ago, but the incident still gave you shivers when you recalled it. It was at the height of Robert’s rebellion, when fighting and chaos was at every House’s doorstep. Your family supported Robert wholly; your father and brothers had been away at war since the beginning. You were maintaining your family’s keep in your father’s stead. The Riverlands was a bloody battleground, and you made a point to visit neighboring keeps and their smallfolk to offer food and shelter in your own castle. You were returning from one of these trips when you were taken by brigands wishing to ransom you.

Your father was riding with Ned when he heard the news, and he made it clear he wouldn’t continue on until his only daughter was found. Ned had befriended him in the time they’d fought, and agreed to help. Together they traced the trail you took to the fishing villages, and soon found which abandoned house you were being held in.

You were filthy, exhausted and hungry at that point, and afraid of the sound of fighting you heard outside the door. Then the door opened and a tall Northman came in, gently asking if you were okay and carefully untying the bindings around your wrists and ankles. You remember how Ned wrapped his cloak around your ripped dress and picked you up so gently. He set you on his horse and rode behind you, asking a few questions as you two rode back, like how you were faring and if the horse was going too fast for you. Back at your Keep, he insisted on carrying you to the Maester, all while your parents thanked him. They let Ned and his host of soldiers recover at their castle, even if food was low, and Ned visited you each day to check on you. You kept his cloak curled around you as you watched the Stark host finally leave. Even well after you two met and courted, and finally married in the godswood at Winterfell, you kept that cloak with you. Ned didn’t know, but you liked wrapping up in it when he had to leave for a long time. 

ROBB STARK

It happened at the worst possible moment, in the midst of the chaos of the war. You insisted on accompanying his war camp through the battles, in spite of the danger to yourself. You were newly married, but you didn’t want to hide away in Winterfell. Robb was grateful for the counsel you provided, even if he worried for your safety. You were surrounded by soldiers, you should have been safe. Should have been.

Once Robb discovered you were well and truly gone, with your personal guards found dead, all he could see was red. The young wolf immediately went to gather men and scouts, ignoring the lords who told him to leave the rescuing to soldiers. Robb couldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you - he couldn’t keep fighting the war knowing his wife was in danger, and he’d run himself ragged to find you. Grey Wind caught onto your scent and within just a few hours, they found the makeshift camp you were being held at. You gasped as Grey Wind jumped at the man beside you, tearing at his throat, and Robb wasted little time in dismounting and following his wolf. While his men took care of the remaining kidnappers, he threw his arms around you and pulled you into a crushing hug. 

Once you were back at camp, Robb had you looked after, buzzing with anxiety the whole time. He’d be adamant about sending you to Winterfell for your safety, wanting his mother to go along with you. Even if you’d try to argue with Robb, he’d truthfully tell you he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. He’d rather miss you until the war ended than grieve you for the rest of his life. 

SANSA STARK

Upon hearing about your kidnapping, Sansa immediately felt sick to her stomach. She couldn’t believe such a thing could happen to you - she remembered the last conversation you two had, what you wore, the jokes you both laughed at, the last kiss you shared. It was jarring to contrast that with some terrifying dungeon, and for the next few weeks she could hardly sleep or eat, constantly replaying those memories and thinking of them as “the last”. She didn’t care who tormented her, whether it be Joffrey or Cersei or anyone else. Sansa’s mind was too occupied with terrible thoughts of how afraid you must be and if you were hurt.

She heard rumors of your rescue, and that manifested into your arrival back at King’s Landing. She awaited you anxiously, thinking of what to say, worrying about what you endured. Finally, when Sansa saw you arrive at the Red Keep, all thoughts left her mind. Forgetting decorum, she pulled you into a hug, and even though you were still aching from your captivity, you held her back with as much emotion and strength. 

When the two of you finally got some time alone, and she leaned against you and held your hand as you explained all that happened. From that point, she’d try to be at your side as much as possible, and feeling like she had to appreciate each day with you in case something terrible happened to either of you. Anytime you noticed her worried expression, you’d kiss her brow and reassure her, and she’d just shake her head, insisting that she ought to be the one comforting you.

BENJEN STARK

You’d wanted to accompany him on a mission for months, and he let you go on small trips here or there, but never anything like this. Accompanied with three other brothers, the four of you were assigned an important task by the Lord Commander. In spite of the seriousness, Benjen teased you like he always did, and even risked being cheeky, since the other two brothers knew your gender and your relationship with him. They’d just roll their eyes and joke along with you. It felt freeing to be beyond the wall, and you enjoyed the expanse of snow and trees so much, you forgot about the danger.

You and one of the brothers split off from the group to investigate some odd tracks. It turned out to be a trap, and while he was killed quickly, you put up a fight and were dragged off. The wildlings recognized you as the “little crow” who followed Benjen around, and since he had killed one of their leaders months before, they wanted revenge. It wasn’t until much later that Benjen and the brothers found the corpse the wildlings left, and a shredded piece of cloak you left behind for them. Benjen’s face became unrecognizable as he steeled himself for the worst, and urged the men on the trail. He tried pushing aside his regrets and anger at himself as they followed the tracks in the snow and the small things you left for them, like small rocks or an odd shape in the snow.

They came upon the wildling camp as the sun set, and you used the chaos to escape your bindings and steal one of the wildling’s clubs to help the fight. Once it was over, Benjen wasted no time in pulling you into a painfully tight embrace. The wildlings hadn’t done more than threaten you and hit you a few times, but he kissed you in relief several times anyway. All the tension seemed to leave his body as you held his face and reassured him. As the rest of you brought your slain brother’s body back to Castle Black, Benjen still kept you close at hand. You two knew the dangers of what was beyond the wall, so while Benjen eventually relaxed after a few weeks, it was still an unpleasant fright that he tried not to dwell on.

JON SNOW

Your family visited Winterfell often, what with your mother being friends with Lady Stark and living so close. From an early age you were friends with Jon, Robb and Theon, always running about and getting into trouble with your mother. Especially now that you were a lady, she scolded, you couldn’t talk with whichever boys you wanted. Jon was always different to you, though. You couldn’t imagine not being with him, and he felt much the same, even if you both struggled to express it. Jon was determined to spend as much time with you before he left for the Wall, and you would do the same before you were married off to whoever.

Jon knew you wanted to explore Winter Town today, and he couldn’t accompany you, so he waited impatiently for you to get back with your cousin and one guard. It was late in the evening, and both he and your parents began to worry. It was discovered your guard was slain, and you and the cousin were missing. Ned gathered several men to lead the search with your father, and Jon didn’t shy away as he all but demanded to be allowed to look as well. He wasted no time in giving Ghost a handkerchief to track you, and soon the men were following the direwolf through Winter Town. Ghost’s nose led him to a shack well outside of town, where the men wasted little time in surrounding it and pulling out the failed kidnappers. 

Jon thanked the gods they hadn’t done anything terrible to you, and he was the one who untied your bindings and carefully dabbed your bleeding lip. You rode back on his horse, and he carefully helped you down and guided you to Maester Luwin, as much as it upset your mother. You asked him to stay beside you as Maester Luwin checked over your bruises and applied a balm to your broken lip. Well after your parents had left, Jon risked escorting you to your room, where you gave him a sweet kiss in spite of the pain it brought you. 

JORY CASSEL

A lady was supposed to stay in place and entertain, but you were often restless, especially since your brothers could go where they pleased. One of them finally gave into your pleading and took you with him to Winter Town. Your brothers ended up leaving you to enjoy the brothel, and you enjoyed the freedom to explore the town as you wished. Unfortunately, your fine dress and warm cloak caught the wrong kind of attention. When they finally noticed you were missing, they couldn’t be sure how long it had been.

Rushing back to Winterfell, they went to Jory first. He was skilled and he could get a small handful of men to listen to him - and hopefully, keep quiet about it to your parents. Jory was livid, trying to keep his cool as he swept through Winter Town. It was getting dark, and worry was eating him alive. The attempted kidnappers were sloppy, luckily, and hadn’t gone far. They were no match for trained Winterfell men, and Jory had them taken alive so they could be judged by his lord. 

Before that, he had to take care of you. Jory wrapped his fur around you and held you close, patting your hair and asking how you were. They hadn’t done anything, thank the gods, and you trusted his men not to say anything about the secret relationship you two carried on. Once you were back at Winterfell, he visited your chambers in the evening to keep reassuring you, although his relief and worry was evident.

DOLOROUS EDD

He'd told you not to come on the expedition, he'd told the senior officers not to bring you. You two actually argued about it, and you joined the expedition out of spite. Edd had an awful feeling that something was going to go wrong, and it did. You accompanied a small scouting party, and the three of you hadn’t been heard from in days. To say he felt sick would be an understatement. He brought it up with Jon first, looking as dismal as he felt, and his friend managed to send Ghost on the trail. A day later, the wolf didn’t bring good news. Ghost handed his master a bloodied glove, not your’s, but one of the brothers you left with. 

Sam and Jon tried to assure him, but Edd couldn’t keep the darkest thoughts out of his head. He assumed the worst, accepting that you were gone, even if his brothers were positive the scouts were taken, not killed. That was hardly better. When you and the two brothers returned, having escaped your wildlings captors, Edd bit his lip until it bled to hide just how relieved he was. Hiding your gender and your relationship with him meant he couldn’t run up and squeeze the air out of your lungs and tell you that he knew something terrible would happen, and it did, and he couldn’t ask you to strip away a few layers to make absolutely sure you were alright. So, he did this as soon as you two were back at Castle Black.

Hiding away in a small dingy room, you’d try to coax the worried, tight expression on Edd’s face as you assured him you only had a few bruises and scratches. He’d sigh heavily and pull you in an embrace, which made it difficult to put your clothes back on, but he didn’t budge. He’d be morose for a while, keeping close to you while you worked to make extra sure you were alright. 

TORMUND GIANTSBANE

It wasn’t just your beauty, but your ability to fight that drew Tormund to you. He had an utmost respect for your abilities, so when you were sent on this or that mission, he didn’t worry for your safety - he just frowned that he wasn’t going with you. Tormund didn’t worry when the group of free folk you left with hadn’t been heard from in a few days. This was unpredictable land, after all. The trouble came when scouts came back, reporting that most of the group was found dead, but your corpse was nowhere to be found. They suspected crows, who had been on the move in the area.

That’s when Tormund was ready to spur to action and join the group looking to retrieve you. While they were worried you’d give up information to the crows, he knew you’d die rather than betray your comrades, and that’s what filled him with anxiety and anger. Tormund led the men himself, urging them on through the icy tundra. He was hedging his bets on the crows being soft and keeping you alive. 

They found the crow camp and Tormund had to keep himself from just barrelling straight toward you. As the fight began, Tormund was able to cut his sword across your bindings so you could join in. Even if you had a cut on your face, you didn’t seem worse for wear. Once the crows were dealt with, Tormund was quick to pull you in his arms and loudly tell you how relieved he was, adding with a laugh that he knew the crows couldn’t handle such a woman. He’d plan a careful kiss on your brow and look after any wounds you had before you two would return to Mance’s camp, where Tormund would announce to everyone that you were back, and proudly bragged about the beating you delivered to the crows once he cut you free.

MANCE RAYDER

While he loved your cleverness the best, Mance couldn’t deny you had a lovely grace when you fought. It was unlike the other free folk, who stabbed or bludgeoned or slashed until the thing was dead. You were a born fighter, a good one, and you gladly took the jobs that had you in the thick of it. He rarely worried when there was possibility of danger on one of your missions, because you weren’t worried yourself. However, the tribe you were visiting had a terrible reputation, and he told you as much. Mance wanted to go with you, but you were sure you and your men could handle it.

You hadn’t been heard from in some days, and Mance had a gut feeling that he wasn’t comfortable with. That was confirmed when your weapon and the head of your men was sent back to him, with a clear message that the tribe wouldn’t join his army. The fact they hadn’t sent your head was little comfort. Mance gathered his best men and rode out at once, his face stony and his eyes betraying the terrible fear gnawing at his heart.

When they came upon the camp, it was a hard fight, and Mance grasped the leader by the throat as he demanded where you were. You were carelessly left in one of their tents, bound and suffering more than a few injuries. Mance untied you, wrapped you in his arms and assured you that you’d be home soon. Back at the main camp, he tended to your wounds in your shared tent, rinsing them with warm water, good-smelling balms and soothing you in a soft voice.

THEON GREYJOY

You spent plenty of time at Winterfell, usually playing with Sansa and Jeyne, but Theon was fond of teasing you just to see your cute face flush and yell at him. He wasn’t always a jerk. He’d been helping you work on your archery, and you two could talk on and on about horses. He knew your parents and Lady Stark didn’t approve of your friendship with him, so he always got a little thrill when he stole your attention. Of course, he insisted to Robb and Jon that you were the one with the crush.

His cocky attitude disappeared quickly when your parents came running to Lord Stark in a panic, explaining you were taken right outside their keep and they were delivered a terrible ransom note. Theon joined Robb and Ned on the search for you, trying to still his hammering heart as they followed the scent hounds. He was trying not to think of all the awful things that could be happening to you, and spurred his horse faster once the hounds picked up a scent.

He and Robb were the first ones to ride on the camp and attack the kidnappers. Ned had to remind him to leave them alive to face their punishment - Theon was too eager in beating them to a pulp, and he felt they should be killed on the spot. You were tied up and dirty, but still alright, and Theon hoped because he was the first one to come to your aid, that you’d ride back on his horse. You rode with Lord Stark back to Winterfell, and Theon sat outside Maester Luwin’s room as the old man looked over your injuries. It was hard to act like an ass when you were so tired and shaken, so he sat at the foot of your bed and tried to make you laugh instead.

YARA GREYJOY

She heard news that your host of men had encountered trouble, but Yara didn’t worry like an old woman. She trusted your skills and abilities, and you weren’t the type to want some honorable death in battle. Then she received the message - a warning from the Northmen who took you. She sighed, picked up her axe, gathered a half dozen men and left Deepwood Motte to get your sorry butt. Yara wasn’t going to let you live this down.

She found where they were holding you in a good amount of time, and you bitched out Yara as she walked in the room laughing. You headbutt her in annoyance once she untied you. The Northmen had tried to interrogate you on the Ironborn’s plans, but like Yara expected, you were made of tougher stuff. Still, she didn’t like to see the bruises on your arms and wrists, or your swollen lip and cut brow. While her men stole what they wanted from the hideout, she took a moment to take you aside and take care of those little wounds. You hissed and she told you to stop bitching, even as she carefully patted at your brow and lip. 

During the next few days, when you'd laugh then wince from your lip or shift uncomfortably from the bruises, Yara would slip an arm around your waist and hand you a drink. She'd try to be subtle about touching you more carefully in bed and kissing your lips with less firmness. She didn't want you to feel coddled and mother henned after, but she didn't like seeing her girl hurting so much, either. 

DAENERYS TARGARYEN

To say she was angry was… an understatement. All of the Free Cities would hear of her wrath once she discovered you were taken by her enemies. There would be no negotiating or ransom, period - She’d call for Jorah, Barristan, the Unsullied - everyone to look for you, to find the ones responsible, to get anyone with information. Once you were found, she’d take you into a suffocating hug. Barristan would have to remind her that you needed to be tended to, and she’d hold you just a little longer before reluctantly handing you to him. 

While you were being helped, she’d gather all the culprits in a public space and give them a proper execution with her dragons, a clear warning to anyone with similar ideas. Even after that, she’d be buzzing with anger and once she was calmed, the worry and anxiety would set in.

As your wounds were cared for, she’d ask the care-taker if they were sure about what they were doing, then she’d want to test your food, then bathe and dress you, insisting you to be still and not help. Once you were in bed, she’d still want to keep you in a close hug, insisting that you were safe now and it wouldn’t happen again, but you were sure she was trying to convince herself and not you.

For the next several days, or even weeks and months, Daenerys would insist you not leave her side, or if you did, you’d have several Unsullied for protection. She’d become quite over-protective, and when you’d express that it was getting to be too much, she’d admit she never wanted to feel that fear of losing you again. 

JORAH MORMONT

He noticed you hadn’t been back from your scouting on time, and after an extra hour passed, he began to worry. You two weren’t just lovers, you were protectors of Daenerys, and you always promptly returned from the duties she gave you. When Jorah’s suspicions were confirmed and he learned you were taken by Daenerys’ enemies, he wasted little time in gathering a group of Unsullied to help retrieve you. However, it was Jorah himself who cut through most of the kidnappers once they found the hideout. While the Unsullied finished up, Jorah beelined to where they kept you. 

Since you had kicked one kidnapper senseless and nearly bit the ear off another, they’d had you painfully bound and gagged. The adrenaline was leaving Jorah quickly as his shaky hands pulled you free, and you were pulled into his embrace so quickly, it made you dizzy. You were going to tell him not to hold so tight, but your exhaustion caught up with you and Jorah carried you all the way back to the Great Pyramid. Once you two were back at your shared rooms, he immediately began fretting and worrying, wanting to give you a hot bath and a good meal and soft clothes, completely ignoring his own exhausting and the blood on his cheek and hands. You were only able to calm Jorah down by pulling him into the bath with you, and even then he was apologetic, thinking it was his fault in some way. You kissed him until that sorrowful look finally faded, and he took care of any need you had that evening. For the next few weeks Jorah was quite dogged about following you around and insisted on going with you during your patrols and investigations. Sometimes it was a bit too much, but you noticed how he kept looking at the bruises on your wrists or the cut on your forehead that was taking a long time to heal, and you let him tag along.

MISSANDEI

She didn't want to believe such a thing happened. While Missandei initially feared for your safety when you went out into Meereen's streets, she'd become more comfortable because of your training with Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah. And today you left with several Unsullied, but that hadn't helped. The report came back that you'd been taken by enemies of Daenerys, and Missandei's heart sunk into her stomach as she thought about what could happen. She couldn't even pretend to be alright. 

So she waited, feeling sick and buzzing with nerves, unable to do more than pace. When Daenerys herself came to tell her the news that you were recovered, and your wounds were being tended to, Missandei collapsed with relief. She waited impatiently until you were finished, trying to gather herself, but all the strength left when she saw you sitting up in bed, fresh bruises and wounds on your body. You pulled Missandei into your arms and comforted her, already feeling comforted by her warm presence. Once you wiped her tears and she took a deep breath, Missandei was quick to make sure you had everything you needed. 

She'd continue to tend to you herself, bringing you food, drink and checking your wounds. You'd notice her gloomy expression and try to cheer her, and several times she'd make you promise to be more careful once you were better. Well after your wounds healed, and you announced you were patrolling again. An unmistakable look of worry crossed Missandei's face, and she only smiled after you kissed her and reassured her. 

GREY WORM

He preferred it when you patrolled together, both because you two made a good team, and it was the best way to make sure you were safe. On the days when you two had separate patrols and duties, Grey Worm would seek you out once he was finished. Normally, finding you was no problem - he knew your usual routes and you often told him what your duties were beforehand. But this time, he was having trouble finding you in the winding streets of Mereen. He didn’t worry at first, but after searching for some time, Grey Worm was beginning to get a bad feeling. He trusted his gut instincts and he just knew something was off.

That feeling was confirmed when he found your weapon buried in the chest of a thug, both carelessly left in an alley. Grey Worm knew you’d never leave your favorite weapon  behind, and the scene had signs of a struggle. He gathered several of his men together and with a rigid determination, set to tracking you down. Even if he was steady in giving his orders, his heart pounded with a frightening feeling he’d never experienced before. It made his stomach churn, but he pressed on.

When they found you, it was just in time. Since you had killed one of their men and given another a hard beating, the kidnappers were ready to hurt you even more than they planned. Grey Worm and his Unsullied comrades dealt with them, and as soon as the last spear was shoved in the last one’s neck, Grey Worm was immediately at your side. He insisted on carrying you back, and he watched the person tending to your wounds with sharp eyes. You had to pat Grey Worm’s hand and tell him to take a deep breath and relax. Your wounds weren’t the worst you’d ever experienced, but he was still tense in the next few days, and asked that you stay home until your wounds were totally healed.

TYWIN LANNISTER

It would take a fool to kidnap the wife of Tywin Lannister, but it happened all the same. Your captors were confident he'd give up all sorts of riches for you, but you were anxious, worrying what sort of wrath he'd unleash - or worse, if he was coming for you at all. You tried keeping that thought from you as you stayed in captivity. It was sudden when the rescue came, Lannister men easily slaughtering your captors. You shook in fear as Ser Gregor of all people led them. A soldier carefully helped you to your feet and led to a large tent. As the captives screamed behind you, you were checked for wounds, given food and drink, and dressed in new clothing. The soldier explained that Lord Tywin was sending for you, as if you were just being picked up from visiting a friend. Still in a daze, you were hastily brought back to Casterly Rock in great comfort.

Once you arrived, you were again immediately attended to. Handmaidens gave you a fine nightgown you don’t remember owning, your bed had additional pillows and you were brought your favorite foods and drink. It was all a little overwhelming, so you sent them all away, and curled in bed, wondering where Tywin was. You were stirred from a deep sleep, feeling fingers running across your cheek and hair. You awoke sleepily, and it was odd to see that gentle expression on his face as he sat next to you on the bed, but you could tell he was trying to be stern and calm as he asked after your condition. Tywin would be adamant about you getting proper rest, and you could tell he was holding something back, but soon you were falling back asleep, still feeling the fingers running along your skin.

In the next weeks you’d have guards always following you, handmaidens attending to anything you needed, and he’d keep you close in public, when he could. In private, he’d handle you with care, and hold you much closer when you two were in bed. One sudden night he’d apologize, saying he failed, assuring you that it absolutely wouldn’t happen again. It was a vulnerability he rarely showed, making you realize the experience rattled him as much as it did you.

TYRION LANNISTER

It was wrong of him to assume that just because you two were betrothed - the marriage arranged by Tywin, no less - that you’d be safe from Cersei’s wrath. You were subtle when you defied her, just enough that she knew you were being insolent, yet careful so she couldn’t openly punish you. Tyrion warned you about treading this fine line, even if he admired and loved your courage. It was bold of his sister, downright foolish, and she’d learn that. She’d learn what it would mean to cross him like this, but for now, he was single-mindedly focused on finding you.

He didn’t anticipate her men would kill you, as that would ruin the alliance between his and your’s, but things were worse than death. Tyrion gathered all the hill clansmen he had and a group of city guards to sweep King’s Landing, and he’d even call in a favor with Varys to find out if the spider knew anything. The moment they found you, he wanted to know - the idea of you being hurt and alone made him sick with fear. 

Bronn and a few of his men were the ones who found the small room you were being kept in. Tyrion came at once and had you quietly escorted to a lovely chateau outside of the Red Keep. He brought you everything you could want; food and drink, lovely dresses, a luxurious bed where a maester he trusted attended to your minor wounds. He tried to hide just how anxious he was as he explained you should stay here for a while, with several guards he trusted. While you rested and recovered, he was more than ready to enact the revenge he’d been stewing on.

JAIME LANNISTER

When you didn’t show to the usual secret spot that you two met in during the afternoon, nor in the evening, Jaime immediately felt anxiety brewing. Had you two finally been caught? Was Cersei on your trail, so you were avoiding him? The next day came, and by the second evening your absence was finally noticed by several others. It was a kidnapping, your family claimed, and they had evidence. Jaime was furious with himself at the time he wasted, but he knew he couldn’t leave the Red Keep. He went to Tyrion, shocking his younger brother with how he almost begged for help in finding you. 

The kidnappers hadn’t had the smarts to leave King’s Landing yet. He wasted no time in cutting through them, a sort of ferocity that didn’t often come to him when he fought, and he finally had you in his arms again. It was only two days, only two days, but it felt like longer. It could’ve been longer, or forever, if his sister was truly behind this and wanted a way to have you killed. You had to gently ask Jaime to not hold so tight, and that snapped him out of it. 

Once you were brought back and cared for under a maester he trusted, one who could keep quiet, Jaime didn’t want to bring to your family yet. Tired as you were, you tried to remind him of his sister and his duty, and you were shocked how he didn’t care. He’d stay with you even if you shoved him away, which you didn’t. You were too tired to argue,, and allowed yourself to rest against his chest as you fell asleep. In the next few weeks he’d visit you often, to the point where even Cersei was noticing his distance and you had to remind Jaime not to be so reckless. 

SANDOR CLEGANE

Gods damn it all, you told him. You tried to tell him. You talked of the enemies your family was making, the threats they gave your mother and father. Sandor insisted as long as you stayed in the Red Keep and “didn’t run off to do stupid shit”, you’d be fine. When he didn’t see you for some time one day, he didn’t think much of it - you both were hiding your relationship, and sometimes that meant staying away to keep off suspicion, as much as he hated it. Then your disappearance was brought up by your parents at court, and Cersei more or less dismissed them. Sandor offered to look for you, but he was shot down. Later, he told one of the other kingsguards to watch Joffrey, and when the man argued, Sandor grabbed his neck and nearly throttled him. 

Once he was free of the Red Keep, he scoured through the shady streets of King’s Landing, places he knew well, going off information your parents had and daring himself to hope. The kidnappers had you in a little hovel that he broke through with little regard for his own safety. You heard him, and the sounds of men dying as he cut through them. It wasn’t his usual detached killing; you heard distinct agony as the men were harshly wounded and thrown aside. When he all but tore down the door to the room you were in, you ignored your pain to run and fling your arms around him. 

He should’ve taken you straight back to the Red Keep, to a maester and your parents, but his body moved on its own. He took you to the small house he owned, just outside the Keep. You had scrapes and bruises, a nasty knot on your head, and you both were quiet as he did what he could. You stayed with him the rest of the day and evening, and Sandor let you hold him as tight and as often as you wanted. He hated that he didn’t heed your words, and the thought that you may have been raped or killed had shocked him into something of an angry, sullen silence that only your comforts and soft kisses could pull him from.

BRONN

When he heard about your kidnapping from Tyrion, he nearly dropped the wine he was drinking, and when Tyrion confirmed it he tossed it aside as he jumped up from the table. You had mentioned some enemies your family was making, and he had brushed it off and reassured you, positive you were safe in the Red Keep. He couldn’t believe he wasn’t there to protect you, and cursed himself endlessly as he led the search and rescue for you. Much of Bronn’s humor would be gone, and he’d take it upon himself to do most of the searching.

He tore through the kidnappers with his men, and as soon as he saw you, he sheathed his sword and pulled you in his arms. Regardless of your condition, Bronn would feel all the tension leave his body because you were alive. He’d have a smirk and give you an overly-confident reassurance, as if he wasn’t making himself sick with worry the past few days.

You’d both ride his horse, with you in front of him and his arms wrapped around you as much as he possibly could. He’d still try to remain casual, attempting conversation, giving reassurances that you’d both be home soon. Your tired silence unsettled him. Finally he’d just kiss your cheek and mumble how sorry he was for not getting there sooner. 

Once you two were back and you were cared for, Bronn was quite protective in the next few months, often shirking his Kingsguard duties to follow you around personally, and you’d notice when you two were intimate he’d be attempting to be gentle of your wounds, a side to him you’d never seen before. 

PETYR BAELISH

Petyr blamed himself completely when it happened. There were quiet rumors and distant whispers he heard, your family had upset several Houses and created enemies, and you were a possible target. He took measures to protect you, of course - more of his spies watching you, a few incognito guards that would make sure you made it to your room safely. It wasn’t enough, and the culprits struck faster than he anticipated. Petyr set out to correct his mistake at once.

Your family was considering leaving you to your fate, and he wouldn’t forgive them for it, but ... he’d deal with them at a later time.

For now, Petyr used a considerable amount of his resources to find who took you, and where you were. Normally he would stay distant and let other men do his dirty work, but Petyr wanted you by his side as soon as possible. His plans of a grand rescue, rehearsed words, some sort of gallant action, went completely out the window when he finally had his arms around you again. Not trusting your family or anyone else, Petyr would bring you to his private suite in his brothel, personally tending to any injuries himself and giving you sweet reassurances. If they were serious, he’d call a maester, but otherwise he’d want you all to himself.

You’d notice Petyr would become increasingly more protective, insisting it would never happen again, as if trying to reassure himself more than you. He’d absolutely threaten your family behind your back, trying to contain his anger as he considered punishing them with some made-up treason or strong-arming them into allowing him to marry you. Perhaps he could have both, especially if you were already taken with him.

STANNIS BARATHEON

Once he received word that you’d been taken, the tension and anger in Stannis’ body was so fierce and immediate, his men thought you had been reported dead. Finding the culprits and retrieving you safely became his utmost priority, and as the days would pass, he’d sleep and eat less. He’d grind his teeth until his jaw ached and would struggle to wait for news; he’d have to be held back from just going after you himself. He’d implore Melisandre to try something to find you, and once you were located, Davos would be the only person Stannis trusted to get you back to him safely. 

When you’d finally reunite, you’d be shocked at the strong embrace your husband would pull you into. It was almost be painful, and he’d bury his face in your hair and struggle to express his relief. Stannis would then pass you to a maester, who would check you over, and he’d stare at the both of you with intensity, making sure any injury, no matter if it was just a bruise, was found and tended to. You’d be able to finally rest in your bed again, and you’d wake up to Stannis asking if he could stay with you. Of course you’d accept, seeing how exhausted he looked. Stannis would climb in with you and bring you close to him, and you’d notice in the next few days how deeply he’d sleep and how tightly he’d keep an arm around you. 

In the morning and following days, he’d want you to be by his side as often as possible. He’d occasionally stop whatever he was doing and look over you, sternly fretting about your wounds and sending you to the maester for the dozenth time. From then on, you’d be followed by a regular guard if you weren’t by his side. He wouldn’t budge on this, and when you finally expressed that he was being perhaps too over protective, Stannis would frankly tell you that he didn’t want to suffer a scare like that ever again. You could’ve been lost to him forever, and he failed in his duty as your husband to protect you.Right there, he’d take your hand and swear to you it wouldn’t happen again.

DAVOS SEAWORTH

He wasn't the first person to know, and that made his heart ache. Of course he wasn't - your relationship was secret, and your father wouldn't tell the likes of him about his daughter being taken. At least the man made you a priority: He bluntly told Stannis that he wouldn't join the war effort until he found you, especially since he suspected deserters took you for quick coin. To your father and Davos' shock, Stannis assigned the onion knight to the task. Your father was slighted, but Davos understood. You were taken at the docks of Storm's End, a place he knew all too well. 

He tirelessly talked and bribed each fishmonger, sailor and captain on the docks, trying to focus on his work and not let panic set in. Your father was convinced you were taken away from Storm's End, so he searched elsewhere, but Davos still had a few men. He knew he had to find you by a certain time, it'd be impossible to know which ship left with you. Finally, he got a good lead, and more or less used Stannis' name to board an inconspicuous trade ship. Hidden amongst crates under the deck, you and several other girls were bound and gagged, meant to be sold off in Essos.

Davos' composed, determined demeanor dropped completely once your arms were wrapped around him and he could hold you tight. While the soldiers helped the other girls, Davos stayed with you, trying to keep his voice steady as he asked if you were hurt. The whole "secret relationship" thing flew out the window as you stayed close to him all the way back. When your father irritably told Davos to step back, you told him off right away and explained how he saved you. There would be plenty of gossip, but you were too exhausted and overwhelmed to care. You snuck into Davos' room that evening, wanting his comfort, and he gladly gave it to you. 

MARGAERY TYRELL

She would’ve been one of the first ones to know about your disappearance, as you two were close and you didn’t show up at the secret place you two kept. Margaery went to all your usual spots and your room, and immediately felt something off. She heard you mentioning the enemies your family had made, and although she told you to be careful and maybe come with her to Highgarden, neither of you thought this would actually happen.

She’d act quick, rallying her best household knights and even her brothers Garlan and Loras. Margaery would go to Olenna, trying to logically explain that your House was close to the Tyrells, and being kidnapped while staying with them would look bad. Olenna would play along, although she had plans to find you anyway, knowing how close you were to her granddaughter. Once you were finally brought back, Margaery anxiously waited until you were checked out by the maester and safe in your room. She’d sneak into your room and throw her arms around you, unable to keep her emotion and anxiety in check any longer, and give you several kisses out of relief. 

Once you both calmed down, she’d brush your hair or rub your shoulders if you wanted to talk, and if not, she’d be happy to take you in her arms while you two dozed off. From then on she’d want you by her side all the time, growing nervous if you were gone for too long, and if she couldn’t be there, she’d want a guard she knew and trusted with you. She might even have some handmaidens or guards report on you, to see if you were shaken from the experience or if your wounds were still bothering you. Whatever you like to eat, drink or wear, it would be provided for you. Margaery could come across as a bit excessive, but only because she was still reeling from the idea that you could’ve been gone for good. 

BRYNDEN TULLY

He hadn’t known about your kidnapping until several days after it happened, during the chaos of the war. He nearly throttled the messenger, and then rounded on Edmure, wondering why he wasn’t informed. While he couldn’t leave his command to look for you, you’d be on his thoughts in the night, and he’d prepare himself for the chance of you being dead. He’d think about the last time you two were together, what you said, how you felt and the way you smiled, and he’d try to keep those thoughts away as he fought, hoping that they weren’t the last memories he’d have of you.

It seemed like the gods answered his prayers when his men caught rumors that your kidnappers had fled to a nearby holdfast. Leading the rescue himself, they finally found the little fort you were being held in. He dealt with the men easily, cutting past them like they weren’t even there, hastily sheathing his sword before crouching down to pick you up. He’d hold you so carefully, like you were made of glass, and whisper sweet and comforting words as he’d carry you back to his horse. 

Back at Riverrun, he’d ensure the maester tended to you immediately, waiting impatiently the whole time. Once you were in back safe in bed, Brynden would waste little time in curling up with you, apologizing for taking so long and not being there. He’d be truly heartbroken, and would ask you to forgive him. Even after you reassured him and fell asleep, Brynden would struggle to sleep himself, still overcome by the guilt and relief that was hitting him at once. 

EDMURE TULLY

The Riverlands were safe for anyone, so you and your husband opened Riverrun for the smallfolk seeking refuge from bandits and Lannister soldiers. Edmure confidently left Riverrun and the smallfolk in your hands. When he returned some time later to resupply his men, he was confused by the somber and terrified mood the smallfolk held, then he was told: just two days ago, you had left to help a razed village evacuate to Riverrun, and you were captured in the process.

All the fatigue from marching and battle left Edmure completely, replaced by a frantic panic. At best, they’d ransom you, at worst, you were dead. He knew this, but Robb’s fear was they’d use you to get Edmure to surrender the castle. He sent an impressive number of men with Edmure to try to find you, figuring they couldn’t have gotten far, especially since no Riverlander peasant would ever help Lannister soldiers hurt their beloved Lady. It seemed word of your kindness had spread far, and many peasants were willing to report strange things they’d seen. It meant you were alive, and that spurred him on in spite of his aching body and heart.

The soldiers were just a small group that had overpowered the few guards you left Riverrun with. They’d lured you out with a false report that a village was razed and the surviving smallfolk had too many wounded to leave. You cursed them so much they’d knocked you unconscious to keep you quiet. Edmure panicked openly as he picked up your limp body, and one of his men pointed out you were breathing. Once you were safe at home and your head wound was tended to by a Maester, Edmure finally collapsed next to you on the bed. He increased the Garrison at Riverrun and had to be reassured over and over that you were alright and had no lasting injuries.

BRIENNE OF TARTH

She would be an absolute wreck from the initial report that you were gone, to realizing it was a kidnapping, to setting off with Podrick to find you herself. Several times Pod would have to stop her, telling her to sleep and eat properly, but she’d want to forge ahead. She wouldn’t be able to stop worrying, thinking of worst-case scenarios. Her head would only clear when she had to fight, and even then, she used a ferocity that didn’t often show itself in her. 

More than anything, Brienne would be angry with herself, as she swore to protect you and this happened. Once she finally came upon your kidnappers, she’d swiftly dispatch them, not even thinking as her sword guided her. A calm would settle over her as she found you, checked you for wounds, and led you back to safety. It wouldn’t be until you held her face and cried that she’d finally crack and cry with you, the days of emotional and physical exhaustion hitting her all at once.

Once back home, you’d bathe together and she’d have a maester clean your wounds, although she’d hold your hand the entire time. You could tell a heavy weight was resting on her, and once you ate and were in bed, you’d invite her and hold her close. She’d confess she blamed herself, and how fearful she was, and you’d have to reassure and soothe Brienne that nothing was her fault and you were so glad she came to rescue you. You two would end up snuggling and sleeping for most of the day and night. Once you were feeling better recovered, especially with Brienne bringing you breakfast and more medicine, she’d be even more loyal and dogged in her guardly duties. You couldn’t complain too much, as you liked having her close, but you hated the idea of her blaming herself still, and you had to reassure her often. 

RAMSAY BOLTON

It would take an absolute madman to kidnap the wife of Ramsay Bolton, and the only explanation is that your captors hadn’t the slightest idea of who you were, no matter the warnings you gave them. They caught you while you traveled on the road, seeing you as a dumb and pretty noblewoman they could ransom.  When you didn’t come to dinner that evening, Ramsay was immediately angered, assuming you had run away. Unbeknownst to you, he had trained his hounds on your scent, and fetched items from your room that they could track. He thought he would find you quickly, but the hours passed by, and he finally came upon your dead guards. Ramsay realized it was a kidnapping, and was gleeful, wondering what sort of men would have the gall to take his wife.

As his hounds followed the trail, his glee became apprehension, and that turned to irritation and anger. He wondered what they were doing to you, what they had done already. The thought of your skin being touched or bruised by anyone other than him made his blood boil. When Ramsay arrived at their camp, he and his men dispatched with the kidnappers in a brutal fashion - naturally, he wanted the ringleader and a few others captured alive. He’d find you quickly and ask all sorts of impatient questions - where they touched you and where you were hurt, and you’d struggle to answer. Finally he’d take you back to the Dreadfort, carrying you with an unusual carefulness as he brought you to the maester - he wanted to treat your wounds himself, but his father insisted.

Waiting for the maester to check on you and then for you to wake up wore on his patience, but Ramsay did it, alternating between torturing his captors and waiting at your bedside, sometimes not even bothering to clean the blood from his hands or face. Once you woke, he’d be delighted to inform you of what he already did, and all but beg you to tell him how you wanted the remaining kidnappers punished. 

ROOSE BOLTON

He knew becoming the Warden of the North through unsavory means meant he would have enemies, and Roose took precautions in your safety, having you stay in Winterfell with several guards following where you went. His most trusted were the ones who protected you, and he never anticipated one turning against him. He struggled to maintain his aloof demeanor as he was told the news. When the first night had passed, his facade began slipping as he demanded his soldiers to keep looking. When the third night passed, Roose would go out on his own, even enlisting Ramsay and the hounds. His mind was at odds, the cynical side of him insisting you were dead or had endured something terrible already, but he wanted to hope you were safe.

Once his men finally found and retrieved you, he’d pull the fur off his shoulders and wrap you up, keeping you close as he took you back to Winterfell. He’d want to see any wounds for himself, caring for them and giving uncharacteristically gentle kisses to your temple and your lips. The worry would be evident in his icy eyes, and he’d give you whatever you asked, bathing you himself, dressing you and tucking you in with great love. Roose wouldn’t join you right away, though, insisting you needed to sleep. 

Once he left you, the rage would enter his body all at once. Following his earlier instructions, his men took the kidnappers alive. Roose dealt with the leader, and once his anger was sated, for once he’d allow Ramsay to do whatever he wished to the rest. After that Roose would be particularly protective of you and wouldn’t want you to leave Winterfell for months. No matter how you asked or begged to leave, he’d refuse. He never wanted his enemies getting ahold of you again. 

OBERYN  MARTELL

He would’ve been one of the first people to notice you were missing, given that he loved being around you at every moment and you hadn’t been at any of your usual places for hours. He’d do his own investigating and, being the hot-headed man he was, would immediately gather a rescue party to find you. He’d be seething with anger, wondering who could’ve done such a thing, conflicting with his own guilt that perhaps you were taken by someone who wanted to hurt him. He’d be relentless in looking for you, anticipating the worst, and his men wouldn’t be able to calm him or get him to slow down. 

Once he finally found where your captors were keeping you, they were dealt with swiftly by his own spear. He’d set it aside and quickly take you in his arms, petting your hair and giving you a dozen relieved kisses. He’d try to keep calm so he could soothe you better, but you could tell how tense he still was, like he was on the edge of a breakdown.

Back at your shared home, he’d want to bathe and care for you himself. You’d get plenty of soft and comforting touches, but you could still see intensity in his eyes. He’d promise you he wouldn’t let this crime go unpunished. Once you two were snuggled in bed, he’d keep a tight hold on you, and for the next few weeks Oberyn would be absolutely underfoot. He would want to do all the caring for you, rather than your handmaidens or the maester. He’d want lots of reassurance from you, as he’d be shaken and would want you to feel safe and happy in your home again, and would even feel guilty, as though he personally failed you as your protector. It would be a long time before Oberyn let you out of his sight, or let you go without guards he personally trusted.

BERIC DONDARRION

When he heard you had been separated from one of the Brotherhood’s scouting parties, and possibly taken by Lannister soldiers, the whole camp went cold at once. The most affected was Beric, who felt like ice was clawing at his heart instead of the usual fiery warmth he felt. The sternness from his knight days, combined with an almost frantic strength, led him as he led a rescue party. While a few men grumbled as to why he’d go through so much effort to save one girl, the ones following him had grown to see you as a comrade and a sister. 

To their relief, you had left something of a trail with rocks, small sticks sitting upright in the dirt and even a few scraps of clothing the soldiers didn’t notice you dropping on the ground. You were terrified, anticipating the soldiers would do as they pleased with you, torture you, kill you - or all three, most likely. You heard a commotion, one of the soldiers was shot through with an arrow, and in an instant several members from the Brotherhood jumped through bushes and trees. Before you could even look for him, Beric was beside you, untying you and holding you close.

He wanted to get you away from the camp right away. While his men finished off the soldiers, Beric held you close and looked shaken. He’d take you to Thoros, who’d assure him that you were fine apart from bruises and scrapes, but it didn’t comfort the former knight. You’d curl up to him that evening and he’d sigh deeply, apologizing for what you went through. After that, Beric would be very resistant to sending you on any further scouting missions. His shoulders would visibly tense and he’d sigh again, asking you not to do such a thing.

GENDRY

He always had to watch out for you, because if you weren’t helping Arya with one of her schemes, you were hatching something of your own. While he admired that courage of your’s, he teased you were a bad influence on the already wild girl. However, when Arya came running to him that day, the look in her eyes made his heart sink. She told him no one had seen you nearly the whole morning and day, and she knew Lannister soldiers had been pestering you. She was afraid they’d taken you, like they sometimes took other girls. While he usually wanted to keep his head down, he found himself gritting his teeth, grabbing a hammer from the forge and handing Arya a dagger. Together, they snuck away into the dusk.

At an empty part of Harrenhal, they came across a Lannister soldier who was knocked clean out, and they followed the shouts and yelling. They were just in time: You had hit one of the soldiers with a rock and knocked him out, and the other two were ready to kill you for it. Gendry’s body moved on its own as his powerful arms knocked one of the men dead, and Arya was quick to stab the second. Gendry dropped his hammer and pulled you into an embrace, telling you it was safe now, even if his voice was shaking as bad as your body.

The three of you snuck back into Harrenhal, cleaning the weapons and returning them to the forge. While before he was considering keeping his head down and just working Harrenhal’s forge, now he wanted nothing more than to run away with you. When you said you had a plan days later, he stared at the bruises left on your arms and firmly agreed to help.

[springday-aus]

Superpower!AU with Hyungwon

—

Group: Monsta X

Member: Chae Hyungwon

Genre: fluff, romance, small [very minimal] angst

TW: car accident - don’t worry, no one died 

Type: Bulletpoint AU 

Word Count: approx. 2.8k

→ Inspired by the AU Prompt: “I know you can read minds and I really like you so I’m constantly filtering my thoughts—stop making fun of how I think of fighting giraffes, it’s my go-to when I think about you shirtless” 

so Hyungwon has the power of telepathy

how he got it was rather odd

he wasn’t necessarily born with it—it kind of came to him

despite what people might think, it wasn’t radioactivity

it was actually due to an accident

when he was young, there was a minor encounter

basically, there was a car and semi-truck incident

next thing he knew, his parents were in critical condition and he was being rolled into the ER for surgery

when he woke up, he was in his hospital bed and the ventilator was hooked up to him

he heard the voices of the nurses and the doctors, but their mouths weren’t moving

originally he brushed it off since he hasn’t fully recovered and his vision kept going in and out

but once he did recover… he could still hear them

luckily, his parents were okay

and that was how he was able to confirm his new-found power

he was able to hear theirs first and it was…. insane

he was freaked out, his parents were freaked out 

once they calmed down, they tried to figure out what to do—they eventually came to the conclusion to just let it happen

they can’t control that so they might as well figure it out together 

at first, it was uncontrollable, so he heard these voices whether or not he wanted to hear them

it was always loud and his own thoughts were never heard in his own head

oh, the amount of migraines he’d gotten from a young age…

but, don’t worry, he learned to maintain it as he grew up

now, he’s able to listen whenever he looks at someone and concentrate a bit more

he’s got a better control of it, but it also means he has to be careful as to where he looks bc he doesn’t wanna listen in on someone’s private thoughts

he’s always been getting in trouble when he was trying not to get in trouble when it comes to his telepathy

that tends to happen a lot in general though

because you’re hearing a lot of thoughts that you’re not trying to hear

which is why music became a good route of distraction

at first, the monsta x boys made fun of him for not getting airpods, but, after telling them about his telepathy, they understood why he got those big ass headphones

but, we’ll get to them later

anyways

bruh, high school was extra rough on this man

can you imagine hearing all of those thoughts? especially of hormonal teenage boys?

nasty

anyways

I like to think that this is why he sleeps so much

when he first got it, it was very emotionally draining for him and he slept like twelve hours at a time

unfortunately, he got into this habit and now he can doze off if he zones out enough

he slept a lot in high school, considering that he was trying not to hear his teacher’s thoughts and the other students and focus on the lesson and would end up falling asleep on his desk and then getting in trouble with the teachers

again, it’s that whole getting in trouble without meaning to get into trouble

so anyways

his family are the main people who know and god

the amount of family tea he’s gotten from his parents’ thoughts

while he does hate being able to hear all these thoughts without a choice, his favorite is the family gatherings and reunions

homeboy could make a tv novella with all the information he’s got on his family

because his immediate family are the ones who know, whereas his cousin that’s like twice removed doesn’t, but that’s justifiable

also, his parents have to be careful when they’re talking about him or his younger brother tho

(Hyungwon: “dad, am I not your favorite?”

his dad: “I don’t have have favorites”

Hyungwon: “the lies”)

other than his family, his long time friends also know, i.e. the monsta x boys

I’m talking long term because he’s so comfortable with them and Hyungwon was stupid and let it slip

Jooheon: I know we agreed on Chinese but I kind of wanted pizza

Hyungwon: “we can get both if you want”

Jooheon: “get what?”

Hyungwon: wait a second

oh, whenever they play games, Hyungwon uses this telepathy to help him cheat

and Changkyun was suspicious of how Hyungwon, the guy who falls asleep 20 minutes into a movie, had such good gaming tactics

his suspicions were confirmed when Hyungwon told them but they all also lowkey were confused and didn’t believe him, altho it did fill in a few of the gaps

like how Hyungwon gives perfect gifts for people that they can actually use

and how he can easily solve issues before they can even become bigger issues

there were just bits and pieces that came together and he did get to prove it

Kihyun: “what am I thinking about?”

Hyungwon: “I don’t think you would want me to say it in front of our Minhyuk here”

Kihyun: …… “okay, you pass”

but revealing this also means a lot of questions

especially from Minhyuk, who’s bouncing around and is curious as to how it works

and isn’t like always being verbally asked

like, the questions will just pop into their heads and Hyungwon hears it

actually what he hears is

Minhyuk: can he hear animal thoughts?

Minhyuk: do they speak English? or do they speak in that animal sound?

Minhyuk: should I ask him? or am I going to be bothering him?

Minhyuk: okay, try to be casual and slip it in and-

Hyungwon: “I can only hear people’s thoughts, now can we please get on with the meal?”

Minhyuk: oh right he can hear mine

Hyungwon: “YES I CAN HEAR IT PLEASE BE QUIET”

Wonho: …. “what’s going on????”

this is why he favors you compared to the others

you’re curious, but not like super curious like Minhyuk

but it’s also because your thoughts are the most hilarious ones

it’s primarily because you censor a lot of your thoughts with other thoughts and they are….. eccentric

there’s a reason tho

long story short: you like him

you two are basically childhood friends

you met in middle school and woke him up before he could get in trouble and it was all history from there

it wasn’t until around the college years that the feeling hit you like a ton of bricks

and when it did hit, you were lucky Hyungwon wasn’t around to read your thoughts

because……... oof

he went from that kid with acne that you used to spray water at to keep awake

to a handsome young man that makes your heart pound so loudly in your chest

he had told you about these powers of his about a year into college, when he realized you weren’t going to disappear from his life so easily

but also because you were thinking about how the fbi is definitely listening in on your conversations because you got an ad on instagram about those sleeping bags that make it look like you were being eaten by a shark and he HAD to make a comment

Hyungwon: “dude what the fuck”

You: “what?”

Hyungwon: “how bad is your anxiety that you’re worried about the fbi agent in your phone?”

You: …… **narrows eyes** “I didn’t say anything about an fbi agent”

Hyungwon: ah shit, here we go again

anyways

that’s just a small glimpse of what Hyungwon has to hear

your thoughts were hilarious to tune into, to the point where Hyungwon listens in when you’re daydreaming and it’s like his news for the day

and it only got worse (at least for you) because you were constantly censoring your thoughts after your self-discovery of your feelings for him

you two were studying in the library one time for finals and he got real close to get a good look at the textbook to see where you were

and you couldn’t stop thinking about how close he was

but when he looked at you

you immediately switched your thoughts to think about that time Wonho choked on his ramen noodles

Hyungwon: “why are you thinking about Wonho choking?”

You: “because it’s funny?”

Hyungwon: …… “fair point”

and so now, you have something to turn to each time an incident happens

whenever he says something that makes your heart flutter, you think about Ted Bundy’s yellow buggy

whenever he makes you unconsciously jealous, you think about fat cats sitting on glass tables

you have something for everything

and Hyungwon has no idea because you’ve gotten so fucking good at hiding it

until one day, you were out with the boys, trying out this new restaurant that opened beside the river

Jooheon talks about how nice it would be nice to go to the beach sometime

Shownu tries to start plans and says y’all could plan a barbeque and make a whole trip out of it

but then Kihyun whines, saying he’s not ready because he hasn’t gone to the gym in a month

Wonho: “you haven’t gone to the gym period”

Kihyun: “better than me living there like you do”

Wonho: “and who’s the one with the abs?”

Kihyun: “son of a bitch”

that got you thinking

Hyungwon? on the beach? that means he’s just gonna chill on the side

but that also means….. a shirtless Hyungwon

Shownu: “what do you think (y/n)?”

You: “nothing, absolutely nothing”

Hyungwon looks over at you with a knowing look in his eyes

You: “what?”

Hyungwon: ………….. “why are you thinking about fighting giraffes?”

Minhyuk: “.... is that really what (y/n)’s thinking?”

Changkyun: “dude”

You: “sorry for thinking about the zoo?”

Hyungwon: “we were talking about the beach, why were you thinking about the zoo?”

You: god, I wanna die

Hyungwon: “well, are you going to die before or after the beach trip?”

Shownu: “we need to keep track of the body count, (y/n), this is important” 

sometimes you also wonder why you like him when these moments occur

but then he gives you that smile and you think to yourself

it do be like that 

and because you all are trying to plan out the beach trip, you couldn’t stop thinking about…. shirtless Hyungwon

therefore 

starts up more thoughts about fighting giraffes ensue

and more teasing on behalf of Hyungwon to you

Hyungwon: “do you wanna go to the zoo instead???? is that why you keep thinking about these giraffes????”

You: I. want. to. die.

Hyungwon: “you’ll die if you join the fighting giraffes—oW OWW OKAY I’LL SHUT UP”

the nonstop teasing for weekkkkkksss

until he finally asks you, the day before the trip

Hyungwon: “seriously, are you upset that we went out to the beach instead of the zoo?”

You: ugh, this whole ass man keeps making fun of me for thinking about fighting giraffes, this is your fault for being so fucking attract-

You: WONH O CHOKI NG ON RAMEN

Hyungwon: “WHOA NO FINISH YOUR THOUGHT”

You: NO

You: WONHO. CHOKING. LALALALLALA-

you avoided him for the rest of the day and filled your head with more censored thoughts

so he couldn’t hear anything else

and he didn’t

homeboy was left so confused because

he really likes having you as a friend but

having you as a partner would be so much better

he’s liked you since high school

hearing your thought process and little quirks

he grew fond of them

he knows it’s really invasive, but, in his defense, he was still learning to control them

and he found himself staring at you more and more, accidentally hearing your thoughts

one thing he really hated about his power is that even when he’s just taking in your presence………… he can still hear it even if he doesn’t try to

but anyways

he was sure of his feelings, but didn’t wanna push anything until he was absolutely sure

and now just might be that chance

so, after ducking him the entire day, which is hard to do when he’s trying to find you the entire day

(it’s not that hard considering all he hears from you is “FBI AGENTS GET OUT”)

(at least, that’s what you were trying to think so he doesn’t hear anything else about how you were going to explain yourself)

and he manages to catch you when the boys set up a bonfire and there’s no other spots…… except the one next to Hyungwon

which he totally, 100% did not plan

;)

anyways, you try to distract yourself by focusing your attention the marshmallow you have roasting over the fire

whereas he’s trying to read your mind, but it goes to waste as your attention is solely focused on the marshmallow

hence the tune of IU’s Marshmallow being played in your head

some of the other guys leave the bonfire, either to take a nightly beach stroll or to sleep 

and that left you, Hyungwon, and a melting marshmallow that you were trying to keep from completely burning

before you could flee though, Hyungwon speaks up

Hyungwon: “what? no fighting giraffes?”

You: “I will hit you with a flaming marshmallow”

you thought about it for a second tho, why did you think about fighting giraffes?

the boys were talking about the beach and then they talked about the trip

and the beach made you think about a shirtless Hyungwon

…………. shirtless Hyungwon

FIGHTING GIRAFFES

Hyungwon: “wait what”

You: fuck

You: “fuck”

and then your worst nightmare happens

he starts laughing

You: “sssttttoooppppppp”

You: “it’s my go-to when I think about you shirtless, okay? are you satisfied?”

he keeps laughing

Hyungwon: “do you like the image that much that you have diverted your thoughts from it?”

You: bitch

Hyungwon: “I heard that”

You: “I KNOW YOU DID” 

there’s a bit of a lull and you try to focus on your marshmallow again, but the heat on your face isn’t from the fire alone

Hyungwon: “don’t be embarrassed”

You: “I’m embarrassed because it’s you, idiot”

Hyungwon: “why?”

You: because I like you

Hyungwon: “how dumb of you to think I didn’t feel the same way”

you turn to him

You: really?”

Hyungwon: “yeah really”

Hyungwon: “your marshmallow is burning”

that’s not the only thing burning 

you both assumed that was the night that you both agreed to date

the next day, were the boys shocked that the two of you are dating?

not exactly

bc they knew Hyungwon liked you for quite some time and also the fact that whenever one of them did think you were cute….

let’s just say Hyungwon’s mouth said idc but his eyes said he could murder them and get away with it

also he trusted you enough to tell you about this secret of his, so there was definitely a high chance he was going to develop romantic feelings for you anyways

*cue a sad Minhyuk in the corner somewhere*

KIDDING

or am I

anyways

there isn’t much change to your relationship

other than additional cuddling and pecks here and now

altho there are a couple of changes

your thought processes are more clear because now you have nothing to hide but

they are also unclear because it’s like

Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hyungwon. Hy—

he also tries more and more not to hear your thoughts, but sometimes it’s hard not to hear them, especially as he openly stares at you more and more

but then again, because of that, he’s gaining better and better control of his powers

he lowkey does use it when you get into arguments because it gives him a better understanding of your perspective and that allows him to provide his and it opens up more communication between you two, even if you don’t have telepathy

also he tried to make up for it by saying everything he’s thinking

that was a very bad idea from the start bc you got annoyed really quickly

but you also kind of sympathized with him

You: “I’m sorry you have to hear my thoughts all the time”

Hyungwon: “that’s not your fault”

You: “but that’s not yours either”

he loves being able to talk to you about these things bc it really feels like someone’s in his corner

you try to understand him better and make things easier

whether it’s getting him better headphones

or distracting him with your own obscure thoughts

I’m very sure that anyone who dates Hyungwon in general is going to nap with him so…

many many naps with him with lots and lots of cuddles

you both take care of one another, physically and mentally

especially since you know he isn’t the type that opens himself up to many people

and hearing all of these thoughts, yours and others, must be exhausting for him 

anyways in this household we love and protect Chae Hyungwon bc homeboy is just tired and needs a break 

[ocheeva]

interview tag uwu

rules: answer the questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better!

tagged by @queensbrother even though it’s been A DECADE cass how can u possibly need to get to know me better ily

- nickname: no people just. use my name. except @mishikaiya sometimes. her latest for me is chickadee which is literally the cutest but will it ever be a thing outside the bird trio? doubtful.

- pronouns: she/her

- star sign: probably yeah

- height: 167 cm. i don’t do american numbers.

- time currently: 23:49

- when is your birthday: at some point during the year. this is hidden lore only my mum knows bc she was there (presumably)

- favorite bands/groups: see this is why i’m the worst at this kind of thing because there are always these questions and i. don’t do music. generally. like i have made spotify playlists and shit i just sit down to listen to music approximately three times a year so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- favorite solo artists: well...

- song stuck in your head: this is getting awkward

- last movie watched: wait hold on i need to cry for a second over cass’ last movie being fatal journey... god that fucked me up. nie brothers my beloved. anyway it was I Am Mother. it was okay.

- last show you binged: new girl for the third? fourth? time. i live alone and don’t really have conversations at my job so i keep sitcoms on in the background so i get to hear human voices! yes i’m very emotionally stable how did you know. last show i binged and actually paid attention to was word of honor.

- when you created your blog: this one? 2013. my first one was made in 2009

- last thing you googled: something about han dynasty art because fic research lmao  

- other blogs:  i only actively maintain @qinghe-s atm but i also have @masseffectcaps and a few other fandom sideblogs like @celestecraft which used to be hot shit on mineblr. others are only shared with people i love.

- why you chose your url: the first time i played the elder scrolls iv: oblivion i fell in love w ocheeva SO FAST and she’s still my favourite. i don’t have an argonian kink but if i did it would be because of her. she's sweet and caring AND she’s a skilled assassin?? get you a girl who can do both, damn

- do you get asks: no bc the messaging system exists. my fandom blogs get them on occasion although people favour the messaging system there too

- how many people are you following: 257

- how many followers do you have: like a thousand. my most popular blog has 10k which is insane quite frankly. 

- average hours of sleep: i legitimately do not have an average, it’s either like four or at least twelve

- lucky number: not... really. i like multiples of five bc i have ocd and other numbers are generally uncomfortable. i don’t mind seven fsr (but only as a singular digit. idk, my brain does Not make sense)

- instruments: i played the flute as a kid but i assure you i am the least musical person you’ve ever met

- what I’m currently wearing: black leggings, black top, black sweater. my socks are pink though! fashun

- dream job: i simply do not dream of labour. i enjoy teaching to an extent and working for bethesda would be sick i guess but

- dream trip: svalbard. i’ve wanted to visit china for years (i had a layover at a chinese airport when i went to visit cass in straya and part of me was like YES finally! but it was also miserable bc worst flight of my liiiiife god). legitimate actual dream trip though? a couple of weeks alone in venice. i’ve been once but it was a school trip when i studied architecture in high school (like you do in waldorf schools! pretentious as hell) so my classmates ruined the vibe. i snuck away a lot and made my teacher angry when no one knew where i was but it was worth it. i constantly think about going back and spending hours in the narrow alleys and beautiful churches and sitting outside palazzo ducale and being moved to literal tears over the architecture. ugh.

- favorite food: lamb steak w garlic cloves... also cheese. all the cheese. any kind of cheese.

- favorite song: i thought we went over this

- top three fictional universes you’d like to live in: okay first of all animal crossing OBVIOUSLY. gotta marry tom nook. second... god. star trek because while i will absolutely shit-talk starfleet any day of the week the star trek universe is superior to any other because it has JANEWAY. and also space. and alien ladies. but mainly janeway. i would put so much effort into joining starfleet and being good at my job so i could maybe serve on the same ship as her and make quiet heart eyes if we crossed each other in the corridors. EDIT: lol i got so wrapped up in star trek i forgot about a third huh! obviously i’d want to live in dream valley with the little ponies. the original ponies. i’d hang out with wind whistler and tell her i love her all the time, especially when she uses words the other ponies don’t understand. autistic queen, love of my life, etc. bonus fourth: mass effect. space. biotics! possibly a buff asari girlfriend... or the krogan romance bioware continues to deny me

TAGGING: jesus. okay you know what. i’m picking five people who show up in my notes fairly regularly because we should be friends. so: @filantestar @sidhe-solais @briars-glenn @sarahstreep7 @roddaprime ♡

[himbowelsh]

Well now I need touch starved Liebgott something! I always imagined Webgott to work the other way around. Y'know Web being unused to hugs and Lieb having no sense of boundaries. But I'm really intrigued by a concept of switching it up.

hello i’m in tears bc this took so long to write, but...  enjoy an extremely touch-hangry boi.  be warned, for copious amounts of obscenely soft cuddling.

Long story short, it goes like this.

David’s just finished an article, two hours ahead of the frankly unreasonable deadline sent by his editor; he collapses on the couch, promptly kicks his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table, and slumps against Joe’s side.

Joe goes very still.

At first, David thinks it’s because of his feet. Joe can be weird about things like that; he values cleanliness, and “not acting like fuckin’ animals in the house, Jesus, Web”. All the things David was never allowed to do growing up in his family’s Manhattan penthouse  ---  like leave dishes out or discard his clothes in messy piles  ---  are exactly the sort of things that drive Joe insane. He kind of relishes doing them, just to see the twitch Joe gets by his eye, and for the way he grips his hips roughly when he growls at him to “quit leaving your shit everywhere”. David’s natural sloppiness leaves Joe needing an outlet for his frustration… and their shared bedroom is kept very clean. It works out great for both parties.

So, sure, it’s probably just the feet on the table… he thinks for a grand total of eight seconds, before looking up to catch Joe’s eye.

His boyfriend’s gaze has gone impossible soft. It takes David’s breath away, a little, because Joe isn’t like that as a rule. He’s sharp edges and broken glass, jagged teeth and bladed grins. He’s harsh as sandpaper and smooth as steel. He’s frustrating, and his gentle moments come and go like fickle summer storms.

To be fair, impromptu cuddling on the couch isn’t like them either… but David needs it tonight, and stepping outside the bounds of their normal relationship can’t be the worst crime in the world. He holds Joe’s gaze for a moment, questioning and careful… but, instead of pulling away, Joe just takes a moment before sighing. His arm wraps around David’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Rough night, Web?” he asks, an undercurrent of implication in his voice. This ain’t like you. You alright?

“You have no idea.” David rests his stubbled cheek against Joe’s chest, sighing deeply as the tension slowly drains from his muscles. Joe is hesitant to react; his actions, even as he rubs up and down David’s shoulder, lack his usual fearlessness. Joe can grab his ass in the middle of a crowded bar, or ruffle his curls just to get on his nerves… but this casual intimacy is uncharted territory for him.

He needs a distraction from his own head. David’s got just the thing. “How would you,” he sighs, “like to hear about the plight of Heteractis anemone? Because I just wrote four thousand words on it.”

“Heter— huh.” Joe sighs into the crown of his head, ruffling his curls. “Pretty sure Guarnere caught that once.”

“Knowing him, he’s still got it,” David replies. When Joe laughs, it reverberates in his chest, a low rumble in David’s ear.

“Yeah, alright, Web. Tell me all ��bout your anemoles.”

“Anemone.”

“Yeah, what’d I say?” Joe presses his grin into David’s hair. “Amenemes.”

“Anemo-- damn it,” he mutters, burying the words against his boyfriend’s chest. Joe laughs even harder… and, like it or not, the sound it a balm to David’s frayed nerves. Even better are the strong arms which wrap around him, fully encompassing his shoulders and pulling him against Joe’s body. It’s… more than he was anticipating, more than they probably need, but it feels nice, and he doesn’t want to pull away. David melts against him, curling his legs with Joe and letting himself drift off. Fingers card gently through his hair; his boyfriend’s warm breath caresses his temple… and being this close feels so good that he forgets to remember it isn’t ordinary at all.

If he looked up at that exact moment, he might have found Joe enjoying it even more than he was… but David, as usual, preferred to sail away.

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

That really should have been the end of it… but after their night of unexpected intimacy, it’s like a dam has broken.

Joe does it at unexpected moments. While David is flipping pancakes in the kitchen, he comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, chin looping over his shoulder. They just sort of… stay there. David is so surprised that he ends up charring the pancake, which Joe eats anyways, because he’d inhale charcoal if he was hungry enough… but while his boyfriend is wolfing blackened pancake lumps down his throat, no explanation is offered. David doesn’t know how to ask.

He’s brushing his teeth; Joe comes up behind him and holds his hips, just staying there for a few minutes. He’s reading a book in bed; Joe lies down, curling into his side like an automatic reflex. They’re watching whatever B-rated action flick Joe just insisted on going to see at the Cineplex, and Joe holds his hand the entire time.

Calling it strange is an understatement. It’s fucking bizarre.

Which isn’t to say Joe’s been shy about physical contact before, because he hasn’t. He’s just always been measured with it. Joe doesn’t hold back from touching people, grasping their shoulders or clapping them on the back… but he never goes overboard with it. His touches don’t linger. He’s a handsy person by nature, but David never considered before that he weighs every touch before giving them out. 

If that’s the case, what’s changed? Why has he suddenly become so free — even apparently craving — touches he’s never asked for before?

David doesn’t know much about the scientific method, but any good journalist can test a hypothesis as well as a lab tech. Early one night, before either of them have gone to bed, he sits down next to Joe on the couch and sets the remote in his boyfriend’s lap.

“Anything but reality TV,” is all he says, and Joe smirks as he turns the station to some late night show.

He’s paying attention; David is not. Instead, his attention is fixed firmly on Joe, not even trying to hide it. The curve of his profile, the shadows along his neck and collar, the way he always lounges when he sits… like he’s trying to take up as much space as possible. Something about him seems inexplicably, undeniably lonely.

David leans over and wraps an arm around Joe’s shoulders. The reaction is expected; Joe goes tense, like he’s trying to figure out what the hell is going on. David counts back in his head:  ten… nine… eight… seven…

Before he gets to five, Joe’s relaxed into him. Easy as that — it’s like teaching a puppy to eat food, or a baby to cry. Joe and touch go together like authors and caffeine. Touching is easy for him, but being touched is the most natural thing in the world.

A flame kindles to life within David’s chest, and soon it’s warming him from the inside out. He can’t keep a fond smile from his lips. After a moment, his hand strays up to Joe’s hair, threading gently through the well-maintained strands. Joe’s always had a weakness for having his hair touched, and tonight is no exception. He makes a tiny, content noise and leans into David, the tension slowly draining from his body. It doesn’t take long before he’s leaning against him, head balanced against David’s chest. Arms still around him, David holds Joe tenderly, caressing his hair while occasionally pressing kisses to the crown of his head. Joe’s heartbeat is steady, his muscles lax. David charts the gentle rhythm of his breathing until he’s sure his boyfriend has dropped off to sleep.

When he looks down, a wave of tenderness washes over him. Joe Liebgott with every guard down is a thing to see. He so rarely looks peaceful. There’s something restless about Joe, a relentless hunger thrumming just beneath his skin, determined to break free. He’s always had an edge of urgency to him… but now, dozing against David’s chest, he looks without a care in the world.

He ought to be this way all the time. He deserves to be happy all the time. God help him, if David has any say in it, Joe will be.

“Is it my birthday or something?” Joe asks, when David, completely unprompted, begins massaging his shoulders. “Shit, don’t tell me I’m another year older and just forgot.”

“Not for another few months, old man,” David replies. On reflex, Joe tries to twist and grab him, but David’s massage doesn’t let up; after a minute, he relaxes into it, slumping further back against David’s chest.

“You been acting weird lately,” Joe declares — as though David needs to be good, and as though he wasn’t the one acting weird to begin with. “Everything fine at work? You didn’t… gamble away our savings to the mafia, or promise Sobel our firstborn kid or something? If you got news for me, Web, I can take it without a bonus massage.”

“Why do you think — wait, we’re going to have kids?”

“Head in the game, Web. What’s going on?”

At once, he’s glad Joe is facing the other way, because David’s not sure what he could say otherwise. He frowns at Joe’s back muscles, kneading into them with a bit more force than necessary. Sure, he’s been… more physically affectionate these days. Joe no longer has to seek it out, because he gives it willingly… and even if touch doesn’t come naturally to David, the obvious way Joe eats it up when his touches linger in public or they draw close to each other in private makes it all worthwhile. Joe seems happier nowadays, so clearly it’s working fine.

Why’s he getting interrogated now?

“Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks. “Just because I want to touch?”

“You ain’t a touchy-feely person. Never have been.”

“People change.”

“Not you.” Joe’s observation is too neutral for David to justify flaring up at it. “Come on, Web. What’s going on?”

He’s silent for a long moment before summoning a reply. “I want you to be happy,” he declares, finishing off Joe’s back massage with a caress of his neck. “I want you… to feel loved.”

Joe is silent for a beat before turning his head to look back at him. “That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah,” David huffs. “That’s all.”

It’s hard to make out Joe’s expression when one half of his face is cast into shadow, but David spots the amusement in his eyes… and something else, too, something softer that he can’t put his finger on. It sparks a familiar warmth in his chest, and he smiles.

“Well, don’t stop on my account,” Joe sighs. There’s no warning before he’s leaning back against David’s chest, but David’s ready this time. He opens his arms, embracing him as they go. Slowly, Joe relaxes into the comfort of his touch, and the world feels a little warmer.

[buckleyydiaz]

if you weren’t just an online love part 2

moreid, 900 words, on ao3 here

Oh shit.

Derek blanched as he realised that the team around him had begun to introduce themselves while he had been panicking, and were all waiting for him to say something.

“Uh- Hey man,” Derek began, still too shocked to properly respond. “I’m Derek Morgan.”

Spencer, despite clearly recognising him, seemed much less startled by his presence. That made sense though, as he thought about it, Gideon had probably told him about the team, and Derek had mentioned that he was aiming to get into the BAU when they were together.

That just made Derek angry - if it was the former that was the reason Spencer expected him, then Spencer still had his number, he could have at least sent a text in warning, or if it were the latter, then it seemed slightly unfair of Spencer, knowing that Derek worked there, before he had even applied to the BAU, to start working there, especially after essentially breaking up with Derek because of it.

But it wasn’t the time to be angry, that could wait until he wasn’t in front of the team. Maybe he could go to the gym during his break or something, let off some steam, but until then, he’d act as if nothing was wrong.

Unfortunately, he suspected that adopting that act now would do nothing to help save him from an interrogation from Elle, who had been looking at him, inspecting him, ever since Spencer walked through the door.

As the brief introductions were completed, Derek returned to his desk, not particularly optimistic that he would be getting any more work done than he had been before.

Derek hoped he would be able to talk to Spencer privately, even just briefly, to see what he was planning on saying if anyone were to ask, what his side of the story was. Unfortunately, given the way Garcia and JJ had latched on to him, Derek suspected Spencer wasn’t going to get any time alone soon.

He tapped the end of his pen on his desk as he absentmindedly watched JJ and Garcia taking Spencer for a tour through the offices, busy thinking of ways to get the boy alone. There was no way that they would let Derek steal Spencer away, so he needed an alternative.

Derek wondered if Spencer would even want to be around him, if he wanted to acknowledge their past but keep it a secret, move on, if he wanted to pretend it never happened, or maybe if he would be interested in beginning to rekindle their relationship.

Although he wouldn’t voice it, Derek hoped it was the latter.

But in his consideration of their past relationship, Derek did achieve something other than wistful ideation. He had a plan, one which hinged on two variables - that Spencer hadn’t changed his phone number, and didn’t have Derek’s number blocked. The first of those was unlikely - Spencer was seemingly allergic to new technology, only updating when things no longer worked or he was forced to. The second? Well Derek wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t changed numbers since the break up, and at the end, he would be lying if there weren’t some drunk, desperate texts pleading for Spencer to agree to try and make it work. Messages that were never responded to, that Derek wasn’t even sure had been read.

Regardless, he had few, if any, other options, so trying a text would be the way to go.

Derek cringed as he pressed on Spencer’s contact and saw the messages he had sent, now over a year ago, that begged Spencer to take him back. He should have known it never would have worked, that Spencer wouldn’t want him back, and that even if he did, drunk texts would probably stop that.

He slowly tapped out a message on his phone, carefully trying to articulate what he wanted to say, something much easier said than done. Spencer had always been the one who had a way with words.

Derek Morgan: hey spencer, i know this is kind of awkward, but i was wondering if we could chat later today

Derek hoped it sounded casual enough. 

Thankfully, the world seemed to have taken pity on Derek, just in this instance, because he saw Spencer reach for his phone in his worn old messenger bag.

Spencer Reid: I think that is a good idea. Do you want to wait until the end of the day, or meet sooner?

Well some things never changed. Derek was weirdly glad to see that Spencer had still maintained his oddly formal form of texting, to see that not everything has changed.

Derek Morgan: idm, im fine with after work if u wanna meet up then, bc i think ur gonna have trouble getting away from baby girl and jj :p

It frustrated Derek to no end trying to text Spencer as though everything was over for him, because even though Spencer was likely unaware of it, Derek’s heart was being pulled back by him.

He hated it. He thought he had moved on, but apparently not, and Derek knew that seeing Spencer every day was not going to make things easier.

Spencer Reid: Okay, that sounds good. Let me know where I should meet you.

He could do that, he could work out the details, and there it was! Crisis one, soon to be averted.

Crisis two however? Elle and her endless meddling and nosiness. That was still to be dealt with.

Christ. Was Derek ever going to get a break?

[jordanas-diary]

As 2020 comes to a close, this is probably the first time in a few years, that I have not properly reflected on the year that was and well, I have decided that whatever I have come up with I will post at midnight (side note: I have started this at 10pm on 31/12/2020 and why tf are there fireworks already? we still have 2 hours people ... ). 

First and foremost, fuck you 2020. You really said “it ain’t happening this year” which honestly, sucks balls. But all we could do, was continue on whilst our complaints fell upon your deaf ears. There were times when I really thought things were getting better, but then something else went wrong and it was all messed up again. 

Many a time, I found myself looking to one of my favourite Dumbledore quotes:

“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” 

And I thought on it every time things seemed to be getting overwhelming, and I did not believe that there was a way to complete an assignment, or be prepared for a test, or finish my work, or just take some time out for myself in a crowded household during lockdown. This picture above helped me continuously search for that light when I felt like the darkness was too much [although it was a constant reminder that I would not be spending my Christmas and New Years in Europe but ... more on that later]. 

Oh lord, that reminds me ... goddamn did I really mess up my GPA in 2020. Studying from home did not insight any form of motivation to study, to complete assignments on time, or to a high standard. I genuinely put myself in this position. 2021 is a new year, and a year to f o c u s and put university before work - and there lies my fault, putting work first. Yes, I was getting paid good money. Yes, I was working for the New Zealand government at the ripe age of 20 - however, that should not have taken precedence over my academic record. 

2020 also made me spend more time with myself - especially spiritually and in my mind and thoughts. This was scary, a very scary place to be. Still waiting for that proverbial “enlightenment” to be honest. Will it come? I’ll keep y’all updated. Too scary, Jordana no want to exposure herself lol. 

As I sit in my room, watching David Attenborough’s Blue Planet II documentary (and fkn sweating bc it’s too bloody hot right now) to ring in 2021, I am reminded that had COVID not happened, I would most likely be in München for the new year. Europe was where I was meant to be spending Christmas and New Years, with friends and family, and getting p i s s e d. BUT! I must be thankful for the fact that I have the opportunity to go out, drink in pubs and bars, see friends and family, shake hands with people, hug my loved ones. Bless New Zealand and how our Government responded to this virus. Thank you aunty Jacinda, Dr. uncle Ashley Bloomfield and cousin Adam Wendt (honestly GOOGLE THIS MAN HE IS AMAZING) for all your hard work over the New Zealand lockdown period - the 1pm updates literally kept our country going for those 4-6 weeks of being at home. Thank you for enabling this country to now be in the position that it’s in where we can travel, visit family and hang out with friends. 

2020 has been a year of big learnings, moments to be thankful for, and new passions (hehe). I have learned: - To accept the fact that sometimes getting it done is better than failing [but at what cost - that I shall discover when I attempt to search for a Masters programme]  - That more people believe in me than I would have ever believed, and that’s more pressure than I would have expected - The ocean is something that is required to maintain balance in my life - without it, I wouldn’t know where my safe place would be  - That it is better to live for those who helped you get to where you are, rather than mourn them for an extended period of time. it is highly likely they’d rather you’d get on with it than waste time - though this is a lot easier said than done - Making new friends is scary and I am not one that is good at establishing conversations , but 100% please message me to talk - am not scary just a lot more shy than I realised I promise <3 I am thankful: - To my family and friends for being able to celebrate my 21st birthday with me [I really didn’t want anything but y’all came through with a surprise party that a girl could only wish to have] - For my best friend and how, despite the amount of time we spend apart, when we are together time rolls back to 2012 and we’re the carefree trio we’ve always - To my marine lecturer for being the most understanding and lenient professor when it came to my many, many family commitments New passions? - Football? Football. Loves me some FC Bayern München men, with some Juventus and Liverpool and a hint of whatever else I feel like.  - Oof journalling has become a big part of my life - I spend so much time writing a bunch of shit, that I probably need to start writing more for reflection purposes than just me having a laugh lol - F1. She happened about 2-3 weeks ago, when I started watching Drive to Survive and started seeing all these drivers popping up on my dash. Naturally, I put two and two together, and got handsome men with some juicy drama which a girl loves.

So ... what is Jordana taking into 2021? Pride, and dignity. Hopefully not the same shit I’ve carried into the previous 3 years lol. Let us hope that next year contains positive vibes, healthy mind, body, spirit and fish, and motivation for an improved GPA lol. 

I want to wish you and your families all a safe and healthy 2021. Hopefully the COVID situation wherever you’re living improves, and life returns to some semblance of familiarity soon. 

[mothmansfriend]

when i’m sad oh god i’m sad (pt. 2)

link to pt. 1

follows a very similar timeline to @tearxofink‘s fic Rules for a Functioning Alcoholic but will prob have differences (such as no established relationships) and takes place in @illogicallyinclined‘s hockey au after the mention of Remus possibly having undiagnosed bipolar disorder

update: i think its important to acknowledge roughly where this takes place in the big timeline bc D doesn’t really drink past freshman yr in this AU because of self preservation and trauma, alcoholism was more an issue before then in high school (when remus and d were Rowdy Boys) but the stress of Logan’s concussion lead to some heavy drinking that was caught quickly by Virgil because Remus Cannot Keep Secrets.

summary: Remus has undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder and is dealing with a severe depressive episode in the aftermath of realizing that binge drinking with D wasn’t just his own search to Feel Something, but was also D’s relapse into alcoholism. Remus comes to the realization of lost time during manic episodes and refuses help.

tw: graphic descriptions of a depressive episode, self harm (burning),  suicidal thoughts, and suicidal intent (but not attempt). unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol abuse, mentioned alcoholism, undiagnosed mental illness, miscommunications on shared trauma, ask to tag if i missed any.

There are a number of places that are simply uncomfortable to sleep. Barely sitting up and using the chairs provided by the previous tenants as a pillow is certainly one of them. It takes Remus a moment to identify what woke him up as there's another round of knocking on his door and he doesn’t want to respond. It’s bright out,the sun is blocked from his figure by the curtains covering most of the windows. He hears Roman’s muffled voice as the locked doorknob jiggles, “See? I told you he’s not here, Virge. There’s nothing to be worried about, if he doesn’t show up by tomorrow I’ll go look for him. You know how he is”.

Their footsteps move away and Virgil speaks, “Can you text him? I’m just worried, Thomas said that-” his voice fades as they enter the kitchen.

Remus can barely pick himself off the floor before his phone lit up with a notification.

the shittier twin: You good? LMK when you’re coming home, Virgil is lowkey freaking out  (received: 10:14)

He stares at the words willing his brain to focus as he decides, maybe he should reply.

He sends a photo of a fat pigeon he took outside a club him and D got kicked out of a few weeks ago. It would be clear that the picture was taken at a different time, but does get message of ‘I’m alive’ across. Which is about as much as Remus is willing to communicate to people that haven’t even tried to contact him before now. How sad is it that his twin brother didn’t even check on him until six days later. Or maybe he should be asking if it’s sad that after four days Roman still hasn’t noticed that he’s home, or that it took Roman six to even ask? Remus spends all this time in the theatre and in the arts studio, and still Roman was the only one to ask, though at the request of someone who wants to get mad at him. He considers if maybe that he is a bad person, and that isn’t something he normally would care about, but if he weren’t then people might have checked on him. He usually hangs out with D almost everyday and he swears he’s never been gone more than maybe four days. But no one else seems concerned at all.

He considers reasons why this might be and gets stuck on Roman’s comment that he hasn’t been gone that long, and the implications then of him being gone longer. Things that don’t really make sense, but he knows losing your train of thought and getting distracted is a part of ADHD, but maybe, this is much more concerning. How does he know that he’s only ever been gone so long, maybe those lapses are more than a few minutes of zoning out. Which leads to, does Remus know who he is during these lapses? The contrast between the two prince twins have always been clear in their behaviour, Roman who follows every word their parents whisper in his ear. The boy grew up to be an actor after years of who takes any command without thought at that chance to be on top, and revelled in praise. It’s the cowards way of survival, are you really living if you’re not you? He knows Roman wasn’t quite loving that, but he still complied. Remus has always known exactly who he is and who he always will be. But the uncertainty of who he is in those spaces that seem to be taking up more and more space, maybe he;s been following someones script too?

He’s constantly changing his mind and forgetting where he is, are his feelings his? If everything the thought he knew about himself is slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass than how does he make it stop?

—

Virgil slides into the recently empty chair next to Roman the second Patton gets up to ask the waitress for another round of coffee, he steals one of Roman’s sausages and speaks, “By the way, I’m catching a ride to your place with you and D”.

Roman squawks at the sausage thief, “Why? I already told you Remus isn’t home!”

Virgil rolls his eyes, “Yeah I know, just humour me. I went to talk to Joan before we left and Thomas said Remus texted to apologize for missing practice, he’s never done that before! I just wanna come check, you can make fun of me later or whatever.”

“Fine, whatever, I know you’d just show up anyway. I don’t think him texting Thomas means anything though, even if it is weird.”

“Well we can agree to disagree then.”

—

The entry to the apartment the Prince twins share with D was just as full of banter as expected. D and Roman irritating Virgil without effort but Virgil matching that with his own comebacks and determination to check on Remus. “Alright, Emo Knightmare, let’s go knock on his cave door so I can know you again, that he isn’t home” Roman drops his bag next to the couch and heads down the shared hallway of D, Remus, and the storage closet. D walks past him with comments of a essay due tomorrow and disappears. Roman walks down and knocks on the door sternly once maintaining eye contact with Virgil knowing there will not be a response. Virgil follows him and he knocks again after a moment and jiggles the knocked door handle. “See? I told you he’s not here, Virge. There’s nothing to be worried about, if he doesn’t show up by tomorrow I’ll go look for him. You know how he is.” Roman turns and leads them back out into the living room towards the kitchen.

Virgil pauses for a moment watching the door before he follows, “Can you text him? I’m just worried, Thomas said that he actually texted to apologize for not showing up today. You know when Remus is out he never remembers to charge his phone, it just seems weird.”

Roman exhales and wordlessly pulls out his phone shooting off a text to his twin before pulling some leftovers out of the fridge to offer to Virgil despite the fact they had eaten not long ago. Virgil accepts and he puts it on two plates for the microwave. Roman’s phone vibrates on the counter with a text. The emo leans over to read and snorts, “Wait, is Remus’s name actually ‘the shittier twin’ in your phone? He just send a picture of  what appears to be an obese pigeon, that doesn’t answer my question at all!”

Roman shrugs, “Of course it is, and yeah that sounds about right, it’s like he’s trying to communicate through hieroglyphics, he’s just telling us he’s fine.”

Virgil’s dark eyes examine Roman’s face for any reflection that he’s just trying to make him stop bothering him with his concern, but when he sees nothing he drops his defensiveness, “Yeah, okay, he’s your brother, he’s kind of like a cat I guess. He always comes home right?”

The microwave beeps and Roman slides the extra plate in front of Virgil, “Exactly, he’s just like this, I’ll text you when he comes back. You don’t need to worry about it, Virge.”

Virgil shoots him a small smile before taking his plate to the couch closely followed by the oldest Prince twin as they settle down with Netflix until they need to leave for their respective classes.

—

Roman blearily wipes his eyes as he wakes up in his dark room and rolls over to check the time. 2:34am wake up and bathroom break time. He briefly considers just rolling over and waiting four or five hours until he needs to get up for class, but decides there’s just a higher chance of getting a restless sleep the rest of the night. The hockey captain rolls out of bed standing in his room shirtless and only wearing a random pair of soft sleep pants and stumbles out of his room, crossing the living room and entry way he’s about to try the handle of the dark bathroom door when it opens to reveal a tall dark figure.

Roman jumps back with an admittedly embarrassing squawk before recognizing the dark figure to be a freshly showered, exhausted, and almost weak looking Remus. The two stood in silence for a moment, Remus not even reacting to the sight of his brother. Roman awkwardly laughed for a moment, “Holy shit, Remus! I didn't even realize you were home.”

Remus stares emptily, moving to walk away without replying, Roman stops him with a hand on his shoulder, “Are you like, uh, okay? You kind of look like shit”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say as suddenly Remus’s face hardens into a snarl, “Oh fuck you, Roman.” His voice cracks halfway through but it doesn’t do anything to diminish the venom in his voice, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Christ! If you’re going to be an asshole then nevermind, I just wanted to check up on you. You know, like a concerned brother just might do?” Roman fires back suddenly feeling defensive. The tone of voice Remus uses almost sounds scared to him but he doesn’t have the energy to pry at Remus in the hallway less than 6 feet from D’s door at 2:30am.

“You don’t get to play any kind of concerned brother role right now! You don’t just get to decide to be concerned one day, it’s all about appearances with you, I dont fuck with that!” Remus’s voice raises as he gets more and more riled up, his voice sounds like shit as if he hasn’t used it in days, “Tell me when you think I got home, Princey, huh? You don't know shit about me and it’s time you stopped asking like you do.” He steps towards Roman edging back down the hallway to the living room.

“Why am I supposed to know when you got home?” Roman fires back, “You’re an adult! You’ve taken care of yourself fine for years, I’m not your parent I don’t need to know where you are twenty-four-fucking-seven!”

Vaguely, Roman hears D’s bedroom door open and feels brief regret that was smashed by Remus shoving him backwards. “You don’t need to know! But, did you ever think to wonder? Did you ever once care enough to ask? No! I don’t remember ever being gone more than three or four days.”

Roman recoils for a second in confusion but counters standing his ground, “What does that fucking mean? You own a calendar, a phone, you should know your average in the last year has been like five to seven days, you can’t blame me that you decide to go on a bender every 6 months or less. Can’t you ever grow up?”

“It means I don’t know where I was for two to four of those days at least! You self absorbed prick! Fuck!” Remus crumples for a second, his facial expression looks so, lost. He violently grabs and tugs on his still damp hair. He stands back up face guarded once again. “I know I never go out without a plan, I have paid some fucking terrible prices for that that you never need to know about. But, you’re telling me that I was out there and I don’t remember it? And no one thought to mention anything to me? And you’re asking if I’m ‘okay’? Fuck that, fuck you. I’m going back to my room, and ideally I’ll fucking rot and die before I have to look at you again,” Remus seethes before turning and slamming his door without waiting for a response.

Roman sags at his brothers exiting remarks, making tentative eye contact with D who waits in the dark hallway. “I don’t know what to do,” Roman says quietly.

D moves towards him moving them to the couch offering a comforting touch to the remaining twin, “Roman, I cannot tell you that I have any idea about what just happened. But, it seems like he just wants you to be there for him, in his own weird displays of affection he does love you and I think maybe he’s scared sometimes that you don’t care for him, and he lashes out. But right now, you need to go back to sleep so you can go to your boring nine am lecture, and I’ll try to spend time with him tomorrow. Sound good?”

Roman examines D, letting himself feel vulnerable for a moment but trusts that D knows what to do. He’s known the twins since high school, if anyone knew it would be him. “Thank you, D” Roman whispers, leaning into the little affection for a moment before he stands up and moves them back down the hallway.

Roman goes to the bathroom as originally planned but thinks about the things his younger brother had said. How much is he missing? What does it mean for Remus to simply not remember days at a time? Is it because of drinking too much or something else?

As Roman tucks himself back into bed, preparing himself for the restless sleep he had been trying to avoid. His mind wanders, and he can’t help but think that maybe he should be questioning blood stains on Remus’s carpet a little more.

[tydy-the-megnet]

Let's Watch Captain Marvel

Alrighty. It's definitely late, but I finally got the DVD. So, I'm watching Captain Marvel.

I've decided to make this post about it, which I will write as I go, because I've seen a lot of discussion about the movie without actually hearing about what happens in it... so uh... yeah. Here are my thoughts as I think them:

Brie Larson looks good with long hair. Also, is Carol bleeding blue...? I want to know what that's about and if it's important

Movie is said to take place in the 90s. Space still already has flying cars. I guess Star Wars wasn't not accurate

Listen Sensei dude, if there is one thing I've learned from anime, emotions only make you stronger.

"You gave me these" *shakes fists* is that literal? Like did Mr Sensei really give her fists or is that referring to her powers...? I know nothing of Captain Marvel

He's talking about controlling impulses again. He clearly hasn't seen any anime

The Skrull are the shapeshifters yeah?

... amnesia...?

Now the supreme intelligence (god ai???) Is also talking about controlling her emotions. I still don't buy it.

Mission time. Digging the banter

"I laugh on the inside. I'm not doing that now."

Hm, not sure how I feel about the helmet thing

Hard light scuba gear? That's cool

I'm digging the kinda star wars vibe

Captain listen to your CO but also dont listen to him at all

Yeah the skrull are the shapeshifters everything makes sense now

Wait is her name Veers? Or is that what she's called just because she doesn't remember who she is?

AIR FORCE YEAH

GO KARTS YEAH

GO KART NO

More of this "too emotional" stuff?

Goose!

Digging the whole mental probe thing.

*Tries percussive maintain on a person*

"I dont know any Dr Larson"

So that had me confused bc I was like "Wasnt her name Danvers?" But Larson is the actress and I guess that's just a character????

Do I have the two backwards?

Skrull: *snarls*

Captain: *snarls back*

I like her

She fights like an anime character while everyone else is an 80s sci-fi movie

Get the boots!!!

And touchdown! Planet C-53! Locally known as Earth!

I guess Captain Marvel could be called a blockbuster hit in-universe and out huh?

I'm hilarious

Honey in basically in the space-boonies now you got no service here lol

This poor confused security guard lol

She called across the galaxy on a pay phone...? Yeah okay cool cool

"[C-53]'s a real shithole" yeah give it 30 years or so it gets worse

Okay why do people not like Captain Marvel?

She's like a mix of Tony, Thor, and Steve

Is that... Coulson? Young Coulson!?

YOUNG FURY!

I don't think that was young Coulson after all...

Or is it?

Idek

TRAIN FIGHT

Why are these bystanders trying to stop Veers(?) from fighting this obviously not normal old lady?

What kinda old lady can flip like that?

TRAIN FIGHT 2, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

oh it was Young Coulson!

Poor Coulson

Damn, Nick

*uses AltaVista*

So it's later 90s. Got it.

Lmao dial-up

I guess they're in california?

Lmao dial-up

Ah so this is the motorcycle scene I've heard about. Apparently they cut the part where she nearly breaks the guy's fingers? Disappointing.

The skrull aren't carbon-based life forms that's so cool!

Not on the periodic table...? Let's see, in the 90s... I guess stuff like rutherfordium and onward wouldn't be on there. Uh, maybe technetium? There might be a couple others but for the most part chemistry was advanced enough.

Unless it's something beyond like 118. Which is weird to think about but whatever I should stop thinking about it

Except elements like that would have to be in group 14 yeah?

Biology isnt exactly my forte but

Okay perhaps it's what we now know as flerovium?

The elements in the carbon group should react similarly enough to be the foundation of an entire life form

That's why silicon is used for synthetic stuff a lot right?

And tin

I'm getting off track the movie has been paused for a few minutes now

I'm just going to assume they are flerovium-based life forms

Oh shit they're in SHIELD

So Pegasus is a flight team, or an AF division, or....?

"I don't know if this guy is really human. I'd better ask a bunch of questions to which I don't know the answer."

A skrull could be saying random words and it would totally work

"If toast is cut diagonally I can't easy it."

Why the heck not??????

"That was a photon blast" is that what that is? Awesome

I want Peter to meet her. I think he'd have a new contender for favorite

"A skrull can't do that. " how is he supposed to know that?

Young and slightly less suspicious Fury??

"Noble warrior heroes"

J O S E P H

NASA and USAF. Sweet.

"State-of-the-art two-way pager"

Ah the old tape-and-fingerprint trick. Haven't seen that since the 90s--oh

GOOSE

Fury meeting Goose is the purest scene in marvel

"you sat there and watched me play with tape?" Lmao

"Shes kookoo" "Kree glyphs" ":O"

Veers was the pilot

I still don't know her sensei's name

"Excellent work, Nicholas" ":O"

LARSON WAS MAR-VELL!??!!!?!

(I know who Mar-Vell is!)

Okay okay okay

More of this "dont emotion" garbage. Listen Veers, DON'T listen

FURY FIGHT SCENE

COULSON NO

COULSON YES

"You know how to fly this thing?" "Uh" "it's a yes or no question"

GOOSE

They're going to LA

(Louisiana not Los Angeles)

Cool

Why do people not like this this is great!

She's got the worst part of Thor, but the best part of Tony and Steve!

RONIN!?!??!??!?!!?!??!?!?!??!??!:0!?!?!

AUNTIE CAROL?!?!?

(So it IS Carol Danvers. Which means Larson isn't her mother. Which makes since because she's actually Mar-Vell. Who's... well, not the mother.)

The Good Lady Ms. Captain Carol Marvel "I-Can-Boil-Tea-With-My-Bare-Hands-Which-Shoot-Lasers-Too" Danvers Ma'am

"You're jacket. Mom doesn't let me wear it anymore after I spilled ketchup on it."

I dont know this kid's name but I really really like her.

"Call me young lady again and I'll put my foot in a place it's not supposed to be."

... that one is more clever with context but whatever

"Am I supposed to guess where that is?" "Your ass"

Monika. That's the kid's name. She's great.

Ah, more ancient relics they call "tech" lol

FLY TIME

Do a barrel roll

She did a barrel roll!

"Your blood is uhhh blue" "yeah but how's my hair"

Ah, "Vers" bc they assumed that was her name. Interesting.

Also I want to get super power by blowing something up that's way cooler than being bitten by a stupid spider

Is she human? Is she not? I've no clue

The skrull are the good guys. Things are starting to make sense again.

... maybe I should've pushed to watch this before far from home.

... huh.

... is she human?

Okay so I'm still a little confused but I think I got it.

Though I won't say I dont want something else to blow up

"Those aren't coordinates they're orbital vectors." "It's basic physics." "Couldnt you figure that out? You're my science guy."

"I just think you should consider what kind of example you're setting for your daughter." That's it. That's the best line in the whole movie. Time to go.

Her suit can change colors on a whim!?!

That's awesome

I DIG THE NEW LOOK

I mean I saw it in Endgame but

"How do I look?" "Fresh" lmao 90s

RONIN NO

GOOSE YES

"What's a cat?" xD

"Why would I turn into a filing cabinet?"

Space lab. Cool.

Is that the tesseract??

THAT'S THE TESSERACT

She can pick it up!!

Does that mean she could've wielded the Infinity Gauntlet??????

Pinball lmao

968700!?!???!??!!?!!??!?!???!??!?!??!?!?!?

HOLY FLERKEN SHIP

GOOSE

YES CAROL

GET EMOTIONED

KICK HIS BUTT

GOOSE NOOOO

Those bastards

"Only human" HEY I RESENT THAT

THE FACT THAT YOUR HUMAN FILLS YOU WITH DETERMINATION

GOOD LADY MISS CAPTAIN CAROL MARVEL DANVERS MISS AWESOME MA'AM SENPAI SAMA

SHE'S A SUPER SAIYAN

PURE OF HEART AND AWAKENED BY FURY

(I'm still hilarious)

GOOSE DID THE THING

This is awesome why dont more people love it???

"Good kitty"

This very quickly went from Star Wars to Dragon Ball and I am loving it

She really is an anime character

Did she? Is that? Nerf gun?

Okay Carol isnt that much god mode there was just a nerd gun on the floor okay cool yeah sure

"Just like Havana" TALOS YOU BEAUTIFUL--

Remember how captain america jumped to the outside of a plane and fought through it? Yeah CM just did that in SPACE take that Steve

Still dont know how I feel about the helmet thing though

JUST LIKE BEGGAR'S CANYON BACK HOME

RONIN

Yeah, those are explosions

Ronin: O_O

Ronin: .... yeah bye

"I have nothing to prove to you."

HECK YEAH. GO CAROL. LASER HIS BUTT.

Fury lost his eye! GOOSE HE TRUSTED YOU

*thinks back to that moment in Winter Soldier*

"You were Solar and the SHIELD agent?" Omg Carol yes keep up

Fury SINGS?!?!

So like, are her powers just straight up energy manipulation? Because that's pretty cool. Really versatile, too

The way she started the engine makes it seem so

And then she just,,,,,, flies away. Into the night. Like stardust in the wind.

Dig the jacket, though

"The Protector Initiative"

It begins......

"Is it true? The Kree burned your eye out because you refused to give them the tesseract?" "I will neither confirm nor deny the facts of that story"

Lmao Fury

"CAPT CAROL "AVENGER" DANVERS"

"The Avenger Initiative"

It didnt actually show it but we know

Also, dig the music

Aaand now we see, 20ish years later, the snappening

"I wanna know who's on the other end of that thing"

First of all I love that they dont call it a pager because it's 2018 wtf is a pager amirite?

Second, I love how Carol is just there. Great reveal. 1007391861604016/10

"Where's Fury?" D:

Better question, where is Goose???

*one roll of credits later*

Oh! :D

Lmao the tesseract

God this movie is amazing

[poisxnyouth]

hs!dave chap 3 sneak peek bc writing takes a long time

A/N: enjoy i'm sorry it's not out in its entirety when i said it would be but 😣😣 we're perfectionists. let me (and aly) know what you think of the chapter so far & what u think is gonna happen! rlly tho, enjoy. ily. -hailey

w/c: 2,676

Everything had been resolved. You had given Nat an excuse as to why you and Dave had been cuddling on her couch - something about still being shaken up from the situation at the party and needing comfort. A video of the argument went around for a bit, rumors spreading about whatever was going on between you and David, but everyone forgot about it as soon as some guy from your history class got caught jerking off in the locker room showers. Everything had been swept under the rug, and no one suspected a thing.

++

“Ilya’s not coming, but I brought Empire Strikes Back,” Dima announces, not bothering to say hello as he comes through Nat’s front door and kicks his shoes off. He notices you and David sitting on the couch whispering to each other, furrowing his eyebrows at the sight.

“No, Dima! We are not watching Star Wars again!” Natalie shouts from the kitchen, opening a bag of popcorn and putting it in the microwave. Her denial distracts Dima as you and Dave don’t respond to his arrival, whispers continuing.

“Fine! You pick, Nat,” Dima easily gives in, approaching her and dropping his voice. “Is it just me or are they acting really weird? Like, fucking weird.”

Nat nods quickly, leaning back against the counter as she waits on the popcorn. “I was gonna ask you that too. Maybe they’re just getting close again? You know they’re like that. They get really far apart and then close again and it just happens over and over.”

“I mean, yeah, you're right. Maybe? It just seems different this time, I guess,” Dima shrugs his shoulders, eyes flickering between Natalie and you and David.

“I know, I agree. Have they done anything weird around you?”

“I mean,” Dima shrugs again, “You weren’t there, but a few weeks ago, at homecoming, they were all touchy in the corner against the wall.”

“Touchy?” Nat questions as the microwave goes off, quickly opening it and removing the bag.

“Yeah, like, Y/N’s arms were around his neck and she kept pulling him closer and he let her. I honestly thought they were making out at first. They’ve just never been like that before. I thought it was just because she was drunk?”

“Nonono, you’re right. That next morning, after the party and after everything with Jordan happened, I came downstairs and they were cuddling on the couch. Like, passed out and all wrapped up in each other. It was weird as hell,” Natalie tears the bag of popcorn open and carefully dumps it into a bowl, “They said it was because she was super upset afterwards. I don’t doubt that part, it’s just unlike David to do that. Like, pretty sure he wouldn’t do that for me if I asked him to, you know?”

“Do you think something is going on between them?” Dima asks, still attempting to keep his voice low.

“Ugh,” she scrunches her face up, “I hope not. That’d be so gross. And weird. I don’t think there’s anything, though.”

Natalie shoves the bowl into Dima’s hands as she begins to make her way to one of her cabinets in the living room, eyes scanning through DVD’s as she picks a random rom-com.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Natalie,” Dima complains, “You traded Star Wars for Clueless?”

“Yes? David? Y/N? Do you care?”

You and David quickly mumble a no, not really and return to your whispers.

“Okay, then we’re starting,” Natalie ignores Dima’s sigh of disbelief as she pops the DVD into the player.

“Wait, Nat. We’re gonna go for a smoke first,” David interrupts her, pushing himself off of the couch and grabbing his cigarettes from the side table. You follow him and mirror his actions, moving towards the front door.

“Fine, but don’t take a long time. I don’t know why you guys started that shit in the first place.” You both ignore her comment and go out front, quickly removing a cigarette from your respective packages.

David’s stare lingers for a few seconds as you prop your cigarette between your lips and light it, looking away as you catch him.

“What was that look for?”

“It’s nothing,” he promises, lighting his own and puffing it. You don’t push it, falling into a comfortable silence for a minute before David leans down to attach your lips.

Cigarette still between your fingers, both hands come to his cheeks as you reciprocate his kisses.

++

“Why aren’t they saying anything?” Dima complains in a whisper, ear pressed against Natalie’s front door.

“You’re wasting your time, Dima,” Natalie says, “They’re probably just close again. You’re being fucking creepy, stop it!”

“I just wanna know-”

“Know what? If they’re hiding something from us, there’s probably a good reason behind it. Just wait it out. If there’s something going on, as weird as that’d be, they’ll tell us eventually.”

“Fine, but I’m still keeping an eye out for weird shit,” Dima replies, moving from his knees back to his feet, “I hate this - it feels like they’re lying to us.”

“Why? You don’t even know if anything’s actually happening.” He simply shrugs as you and David open the door and emerge, reeking of tobacco and tar as you place yourselves next to each other on Natalie’s loveseat. Natalie silently hits play on the DVD player as you and Dave pile up in blankets, leaning into opposite cushions to seem as far apart as possible.

You feel David’s hand creep over, fingers lacing with yours under the copious amount of layers. Neither of you say anything as the movie begins, elbows propped up on the arms of the couch, intertwined hands between you.

“Doesn’t she get with her step brother or something? That’s so fucking gross,” David gripes for everyone to hear, squeezing at your hand.

“Ex-step brother, Dave,” you gently remind in a whisper, scooting closer to him.

David's voice drops so only you can hear, “That's not much better, baby. Still gross.” The blush that comes to your cheeks is almost immediately clocked by Dima and Natalie, both of them sharing a quick look before returning their attention to the TV.

Dave continues making snarky comments for the majority of the movie before asking Natalie to pause it.

“Why?”

“I just - we need another smoke, okay?” The roll of Natalie’s eyes is obvious as you both stand, grabbing your cigarettes and, this time, moving towards her back door.

You both place yourselves on her lawn furniture, silently pulling the objects out of their packages and propping them between your lips.

You begin to flick your lighter before David makes a noise, shaking his head and taking it from you. His lit cigarette is dangling from the corner of his mouth as he flicks your lighter, lighting the stick for you. He drops your lighter back into your hand and takes his cigarette back between his two fingers.

“Pretty girls don’t light their own cigarettes,” he says quickly, meeting your eyes before bringing his back up to his lips.

“You’ve never done that before,” you question him, blush rising in your cheeks.

“I wasn’t fucking you before,” Dave explains nonchalantly between puffs, shaking his head slightly.

“So shouldn’t it be hot girls? Not pretty girls? You don’t usually call girls you’re just fucking pretty.”

David shrugs slightly, “Why does it matter if you’re both? Which one would you rather be?”

You go silent for a few seconds, mulling over your response, “...Pretty.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re the only guy who’s ever called me that. Besides, like, my dad.”

He gapes slightly, shaking his head, “Jesus. What kind of guys have you been dating?”

“Shitty ones, I guess.”

“No shit. You’ve always been beautiful, you should be told that.” David meets your eyes again, free hand moving to the top of your thigh.

“You’ve always thought that?” You ask, cheeks becoming redder and redder the more he continues. Your hand comes to rest over his, quickly moving to lace your fingers together.

“Yeah, I just - I never said it ‘cause I thought it was weird. I wish I had, though.” David leans back in his seat, bringing your intertwined hands up and kissing the back of it before gently dropping them back into his lap.

“I wish you’d taken my virginity,” you say, squeezing his hand and maintaining eye contact.

Your confession makes his eyes widen, “Why? I took your first kiss freshman year, isn’t that enough?”

You shrug, “Exactly! It was perfect. You’ve always treated me so much better than anybody else. Like...always. Why did we never do this before? It would’ve saved me so much hurt.”

David finishes his cigarette, stamping the butt into Natalie’s parents’ ashtray and sinking slightly into his seat.

“I don’t know if I would’ve done it before, baby,” he admits.

“Why not?”

“I didn’t know then what I know now.”

“So you only did it because you felt bad for me?” You hastily pull your hand out of his, putting out your cigarette.

“What? No, of course not-”

“If this is just a pity fuck, then forget it.” You rise to your feet and move towards the door, David grabbing your wrist and forcing you to turn back to him.

“It’s not a pity fuck,” you look at him uncertainly, “Just hear me out, baby, okay? Sit down.”

He takes one of your cigarettes from the pack and hands it to you, taking the liberty to light it once you’re sat beside him again.

“Before...you never told me anything. I didn’t know anything other than what people told me or rumors I heard, and you played it off so well. I didn’t think you were a slut or anything, but I didn’t know how these guys were treating you. I thought you were into it. It’s not about pity. You should be treated the way you deserve, and if I can do that for you, then great.” You sigh, your cigarette shaking as your hand trembles. David puts his hand on top of yours, making you look up at him.

“I just want you to see what you’re worth. When I look at you, I don’t just see something I wanna fuck. You’re my best friend, baby. I’m more interested in that.”

You don’t say anything, bringing the menthol back up to your lips and looking away from him.

“You know this is so much more than a pity fuck,” he adds, “You know I care about you, so why won’t you let me in?”

You glance at him briefly before looking back at your hands, watching the end of your cigarette burn.

“I'm fucking scared, David,” you admit in a whisper, eyes welling up with tears.

“Hey, are you guys gonna be any longer?” Natalie steps out, slightly annoyed. Her face drops when you turn and her eyes land on you.

“Are you okay?”

“Just keep going without us, Nat, we’ll be back in a few,” David speaks up, careful not to answer for you.

“Y/N…” She ignores his plead, looking at you for confirmation.

“I’m fine, Natalie,” you feign, wiping away your tears with your free hand. “You and Dima keep going. Please.”

Natalie doesn’t answer, warily nodding her head and retreating inside.

David waits until the door clicks shut to resume your conversation, taking your hand in his once more, “Why are you scared? It’s just me, baby.”

“I’ve never had this before, Dave! Even if this is just platonic, I’ve never had a guy treat me this way before. I don’t know how to handle it.” You nervously bring the cigarette to your lips, inhaling deeply before releasing the smoke.

“Just let me do this for you. Please, babe. You don’t have to ‘handle’ it at all,” his free hand flies up, quickly creating air quotes before coming back down, “I just want you to see yourself the way I see you. Or even the way Nat sees you. Like what I said before, if this,” he motions between you, “what’s going on between us, helps with that? Even just a little bit? It’s worth it to me.”

“I just don’t want to fuck this up for myself-”

“You won’t! Don’t worry about that shit - I’m not leaving you, okay? I love you so much. If you want me to stop, I will; if you want to stop all of this between us, we can; whatever you want. Do not think I’m sitting here with you out of pity. Ever.” David’s fingers reach for your cigarette, plucking it from your hold and taking a drag.

He exhales, still holding the object between his thumb and forefinger, making a face at the taste. “God, I forgot how terrible menthol is. Take this shit back.”

You stifle a giggle, taking it from him and wiping your tears. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your cheek as your fingers brush, moving over slightly to attach your mouths.

He kisses you slowly, still tasting the menthol on your lips and gently pulling away. Faces still close and hands still intertwined, David breaks, “I love you, baby. As friends.”

You can barely murmur an agreement before he's beginning again, “I love you, but I need to get this fucking taste out of my mouth before I kiss you again. How do you smoke these?” He’s playfully griping in hopes of making you feel better, reaching for his cigarettes - a pack of Reds. Dave’s hand briefly leaves yours to pull a stick from the package and place it between his lips, left hand cupping around the lighter as his right hand flicks it. He holds the flame for a few seconds, watching it burn before stopping it, tossing the box and lighter onto the side table.

His hand immediately returns to yours as he takes a deep drag, exhaling slowly. “You’d tell me if I’m doing something wrong, right?”

“Yeah. Of course.” David nods solemnly at your response, goofy facade fading as he slinks backwards into his seat, pulling you with him. At second thought, he unlinks your hands, arm draping around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, free hand moving to rest on his chest, watching it fall gently with each exhale. You feel his heart beating gently under your fingertips as you move up slightly, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek and mumbling a Thank you, David, I love you. You feel him nod slightly as he continues working on finishing his cigarette, murmuring a quiet You’re welcome. I love you, too.

“And you know I’d do anything for you?” Dave questions a minute later, normal speaking voice this time, clearing his throat slightly and rolling his cigarette between his fingers. You nod against him, fingertips digging into his chest slightly as you press your body closer into him.

His hand falls to your waist, rubbing lightly and affectionately, “Good. Let’s go in.” He leans forward a bit, putting out his cigarette and beginning to rise to his feet.

You tug on him slightly once you stand, “Kiss me before we go?” David nods without a second thought, head dipping as both hands tangle in your hair, mouths attaching. You melt into the taste of his cigarettes as he breathes harshly, deepening the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away entirely.

He follows you inside of the house, immediately apologizing on your behalf to Natalie and Dima.

“It’s okay!” Natalie swears, “Are you guys still staying the night?”

Despite not glancing at each other, you and Dave share the same uneasy expression before Nat begs once more, “Come on! It’s never just us four anymore, and it’s one of the last nights of the break before school starts. It’ll be fun!”

David is the first to accept, quickly saying, “Yeah, you’re right. We’ve gotta go get more smokes, though.”

Natalie quickly deflates before he adds, “We’ll be back in, like, an hour. Hour and a half at the most. I swear.”