#but this took me like 4 days to write lmfao

[generalsmemories]

Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

[qwimchii]

𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 (pt. 4) — 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

playlist pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 (10/24)

𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘤 — 12𝘬

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵!𝘢𝘶, 141𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘶, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (10𝘺𝘳𝘴), 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 & 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘴 & 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 😞

note: oml. i cannot thank you guys enough for your patient. this took me a lot longer than i thought it would (i've been writing the whole day LMFAO). your patience and support has been literally amazing and i love each and every one of you. thank you so much 😭💐💞 please enjoy <33

you gasped, scrambling back into the bed.

the girl just stood there. stock still. like a ghost. eyes so shadowed in the darkness that they looked like two black pits staring at you.

your heart beat out of your chest, blood thickening to a slow gurgle, as you reached slowly for something solid on the nightstand. you made contact with the glass cup.

you were surprised by the amount of force in your voice. “are you here to kill me?”

she just stared, unblinking. 

a roiling turmoil of heat built right in your chest, and you snapped, “are you one of Turner’s men?”

she scoffed, and it only added to the flame of your ire, before you heard the soft click of her gun cocking.

“no,” she said, defiant, turning her chin up at you. “but you do have a nice ransom on your head.”

her head tilted, taking you in with a dark look that raked across your body. “and i recognized that man you were with. Ghost, is it?”

oh.

your eyes narrowed. “how do you know him?”

the better question was how did she recognize him?

your heart sank.

“i’ve done business with him,” she said cooly, and your heart just sank further. 

it made sense now. why she was standing at the door, her attention trained on Ghost, marching away when the other man told her to leave. she was expecting a customer.

maybe even a regular one.

then, she frowned at you. “not in ways that you are thinking.”

curling relief soared in your chest, and a weight lifted from your shoulders as you released a shaky breath.

she threw down the gun onto the floor and it skidded across the wooden floorboards, hitting the post of the bed with a thunk. mind clouded with confusion, you looked up at her with a furrowed brow.

she straightened her shoulders. “i’m here to save you.”

you blinked. save you?

“save me?” you squeaked, and her face twitched with annoyance.

“yes,” she said, striding forward to the bed, “we have to hurry. come.”

you scurried further back into the bed, yelping when you almost fell off the side.

she stopped in her tracks, watching you struggle in the sheets with flushed cheeks. quickly, you drew the yellow robe that was discarded on the floor around your body, hoping she didn’t see anything in the dark, and turned to her again, fumbling with the knot of it.

you were still holding the glass cup.

she looked down to it in your hands and then back up, mouth in twisted line.

embarrassed, you put the cup behind you on the nightstand.

“your father?” she chewed out slowly, “he has a ransom. he wants you alive.”

“what?” 

“your father. he wants you—”

a thick cloud of confusion settled in your furrowed brow, and you shot out, “i thought Turner wanted me dead.”

the girl gave you a long look, face twisted and hands clenched into the fabric of her dress. “he does. your father doesn’t.”

your mouth fell open, tongue heavy, then closed again.

“are they not working together?” there was a little flicker of hope deep within yourself.

“they are,” she said with raised brows, “they are working to come to an agreement over you.”

your stomach twisted. you felt like puking. 

you flattened yourself against the far wall of the room to stop the nauseating swirls of dizziness racking your mind, creating a marginal distance from the girl who loomed with a veil of impatience over her face, hands clenched by her sides and shoulders braced. a roil of fear boiled in you.

“you can’t take me,” you whispered, voice weak and trampled.

her frown deepened. “you want to stay with Ghost?”

“i am waiting for him,” you said carefully, and the girl scoffed, turning on her heel.

“do you think he will come back?”

your throat felt closed up. “what?”

“do you think he will come back?” she asked again, slowly, like you couldn’t understand her words. she pointed towards the low table in the room—there was a drawstring pouch you didn’t notice before.

“he left that for you at the front desk before he left. i came in to deliver it,” she explained, and you followed her line of sight to the gun at the foot of the bed.

ah. she came in to deliver them as well as threaten you. or save you, in her words. maybe both.

your eyes narrowed. “what are you saying?”

in the darkness of the room, you could see her roll her eyes.

“he left you money and that revolver.”

your head swirled, a pulsing headache building right in the base of your forehead. he left you these items—why? to protect yourself?

he said the brothel was safe. 

a sour taste filled your mouth. why would you need to protect yourself if it was safe?

unless you left the brothel.

you fought the droop of your head with a sharp twinge of your heart, deflating from the inside out.

“he wasn’t planning on coming back,” she gritted out, sounding more impatient than anything.

“you don’t know that,” you snapped, “it’s not dawn yet. he promised me he’d be back by dawn.”

she grew very still. “why do you want to stay with him? has he not been using you for…?”

her eyes roamed down the revealing nature of your robe, then flitted back up to your eyes. her face was stoney cold. serious.

you stiffened. Ghost had promised you he would never bed you again for revenge. had he been telling the truth? you didn’t know.

“i don’t know.”

she scoffed again, muttering under her breath, “she doesn’t know,” and turning away, rubbing over her face.

you swallowed down the growing swollen tightness in your throat, a familiar burn building at the waterline of your eyes. “you don’t understand. if you give me to my daddy…”

she turned back to you and your voice faltered. “i don’t want to be a mistress.”

her stoney face crumpled, eyes narrowed with unease, but you pressed on, “my daddy. he owns a saloon chain and made a business deal with Turner—investment and protection.”

your voice dimmed, quiet and low. “i was part of that deal. my daddy was going to give me to Turner as his mistress.”

the girl was silent, stark still in the darkness, mulling over something in her swirling eyes.

“alright.”

your eyes snapped to her. “alright?”

“i don’t work for Turner. i don’t work for your father. i don’t work for anybody but myself,” she said.

you nodded slowly, trying to digest that, searching her eyes for a twisted lie, but only finding a blank stoney void and truth. instead, you asked, “what about Ghost?”

she paused for a moment, looking apprehensive, before explaining, “when Ghost was younger, and when the law used to be trouble for him, he would hide here in this brothel. he paid for my services for a week but didn’t touch me once. he wanted something else.”

something else? you thought, hands growing clammy and cold.

she turned her head from you. “he wanted my secrets. powerful people tell me too much in the midst of an intimate night. now, i recognize Ghost’s gesture for what it was. he was not being kind to me like i believed him to be.”

her voice was eerily void. “he wanted to use me.”

then, she said, “i was sold by my father for fifty american dollars.”

you flinched. it made you wonder how much Turner had promised your daddy in exchange for you.

her stare was glazed over, dark and unnatural. you suppressed a shiver and listened to what she had to say, clutching at the wall tighter when she slowly stepped forward towards you.

“i know what it is like to want to be useful. i, too, once believed that it was necessary for my father to sell me to feed my brothers. i told myself that the entire way by ship from china. then, i told myself that helping Ghost would give me purpose.”

her voice was stronger, and she drew so near you could see the swirling pattern of her crimson dress. “now, i am not of use to anyone except for myself. i worked hard to get here. this is one of the kindest and most well-paying brothels in the city. most girls only last for five years after being sold into prostitution.”

her words were icy cold. “i worked hard to survive.”

“i’m…” your voice failed in your choked up throat, pangs of heaviness breaking your heart apart. you wanted to apologize but that didn’t feel like enough.

she pinned you with a hard look. “i do not want your pity.”

you slowly sunk down the wall, till your backside hit the cold, hard floor, and you wrapped your arms around your knees. all your problems felt dwarfed in front of this girl, but you still shook with fear.

“i won’t go back to my daddy,” you whispered, words trembling, but defiant nonetheless.

she got on her knees, creeping towards you till she leaned against the wall in the spot beside you. the proximity of her body felt warm in the crisp morning of the room.

she was insistent, expression fierce and strong. “i will not give you over to him for money. ”

your eyes snapped to hers, and her hand slid over the floor into the space between you.

desperate, you searched for the right words but couldn’t find them. “thank you.”

you took up her hand, and she squeezed yours with a strength that shocked you for her thin, petite frame.

“i will help you,” she insisted, and a curl of despair wrung your chest.

“you cannot help me, miss,” you said weakly, truthfully, “i need to wait for Ghost.”

she made a noise of deep frustration. “you do not.”

you closed your eyes, nose buried into your knees. “i have to.”

you felt her draw your hand into her lap, holding onto it with a powerful grasp. “he will not return. i prayed many nights for him to return too. but still, i will wait with you.”

the certainty in her tone felt soul crushing, and a truth from her own experience, but the tightness of her grip was an anchor that held you through the nauseating, racks of unease that pulled you like a tide. 

you waited for the sun to peek up through the far windows of the room, overlooking a dip in the city that revealed a stretch of chinatown twinkling in the early, blue hours with loud ruckus, shouts, and clatters.

when the first bruised pinks and purples stretched the morning sky, and beams of orange had cast over your body, your head perking up as you squinting into its glare from over your knees, Ghost had still not come.

you moved through the city like a ghost—like nothing was anchoring you down to the ground except for the girl’s iron grip on your hand. she had almost never let go of you when you roused from your light slumber, letting her drag you from the room, pocketing Ghost’s money and his revolver.

you left behind your shattered heart in that room. you felt like you died in that room.

the girl had forced you into one of her few western-style, yet airy, dresses that still felt too revealing from the wardrobe of her small room in the upper floors of the brothel. but nobody stared at you as she pulled you down another avenue through chinatown, considerably cleaner and better groomed than the ones you had been on before.

you did not know where you were going—you weren’t sure if you cared. the girl had only said with a determined ferocity, i will help you, when Ghost had not come.

Ghost had not come.

it was like a splintering realization every moment.

she hauled you into the back of a busy shop, barely squeezing through the small frame of the door, opening it to a whirlwind of more women shouting in mandarin and bent over desks strewn with cloths, silks, garments, and clunky sewing machines that packed in the room. that same sweet smoke tinged the room and you resisted pinching your nose against the searing smell.

an older woman with grayed hair and a wrinkled face like a plum stepped into the girl’s path, shouting something at her, though not unkindly, to which the girl shouted back. the old woman stepped back with a nod, and you curled closer to the girl as many of the women in the room turned from their stations to stare as you passed before busying themselves once more.

the girl took you into the front store room, marginally more quiet than in the back, and adorned with a plush red carpet and racks of colorful clothing where some wealthy women perused. 

then, she pulled you towards a raised platform in the corner of the room, where a red curtain hung by it and pushed you onto it. you stepped up, feeling uncomfortably light without her hand around yours, and she tugged the curtain around the platform without a word and a stricken face, shrouding the rest of the room from view.

you stood there for a moment, clutching against the wall and listening to the faint screeches of hangers dragging across their racks, light footsteps, and the bustle of the city from outside the store.

you jolted when she yanked open the curtain and quickly jerked it close behind her once more.

her face looked more serious than before—face screwed up in a tight expression and deep frown. you bit back a gasp when her arms flew to your shoulders and tugged her towards her, almost falling off the platform.

“listen to me,” she grit out with a clenched jaw, and you nodded quickly. “i cannot help you for long. tell me, what do you want?”

what do you want?

the question ran bated circles around your mind.

in a panic, you choked out, “i don’t know.”

she looked disappointed, but her grip on your shoulders only tightened, and you winced from the painful pulse in your injured joints. “you need to decide. now.”

she pressed something hard and cool into your hand and you looked down at the revolver in your open palm. the steel of it was engraved with trumpet vines.

you were reminded of several nights ago—when Ghost had first asked you the question.

“what do you want?” his hand moved to stroke at your cheek, your brow, your hair.

you never had the luxury of pondering the question. your path was always laid out before you by your mama and daddy. there was no choice. only lingering, bitter feelings of resentment as you fought yourself to believe that tending Daddy’s saloon and entertaining businessmen was the life you wanted.

“i dont know.”

“tell me.”

you had said you wanted him. now, you weren’t sure.

what did you want?

you looked into the dark swirl of the girl’s intense gaze, the inky hair that went down her shoulders in unfurling waves. did you want independence like her?

instead you asked, “why are you helping me?”

her face flitted with a tenseness but she held fast, unmoving and unshaken.

you pressed on, “what about the money? don’t you want the ransom?”

you felt eerily calm despite what you were alluding towards—her selling away your last flickers of freedom.

she shook her head. “i will not use you like my father used me.”

you stared at her. maybe, for the first time in your life, you’d met someone who didn’t want to use you for an advantage. maybe this girl was lying and would lead you straight into your daddy’s embrace again, and once your daddy smoothed everything out with Turner, you’d be in Turner’s bed every other night, satiating an old man with the warmth of your youthful touch.

or maybe, she was telling the truth.

“i don’t believe you,” you said, voice soft, and her grip slackened.

“you have to. tell me what you want.” she reached into the neckline of her shirt, and pulled something from her undergarments, revealing the drawstring pouch of the money Ghost left you.

she pushed it into your hand with the gun and closed your fingers around the heaviness of it, the clink of coins and rustles of paper feeling too loud in your ears, your mind swirling with effort.

you mulled over everything for the past week—only just seven days total. when you had met Ghost, one-four-one, their outlawed antics, los vaqueros. Kate’s expression when she left you at your train door, when you had challenged her about the truth of their revenge ploy, when you had escaped on horseback from the leather crafts shop. 

the fullness of her eyes. the sadness of them.

you thought of john when he had an arm circled around your waist as he galloped on that chestnut through the small town, saving your life, and the blinding rush when you turned over your shoulder and shot that man gunning for John. you saved his life in return.

you thought of Soap’s kindness in the hallway of the train, the thick swell of his accent, the delight that bloomed across his face whenever he saw you. the vicious sober look that twisted his smile when he promised to get revenge on Turner.

you thought of Gaz and his proposal, the origin of his poor childhood that he had disclosed in hushed murmurs, and the warmth of his polite touch grasping your hand and pressing it to his chest. the youthful earnest in his face.

you thought of your daddy and your mama—preparing you for a life that you had never chosen. Turner’s mistress.

you didn’t know who to hate more.

you thought of Ghost.

maybe you should hate him.

your skin prickled in remembrance of his soft, warm lips, and gentle touch, the way he held you, his even softer words, his empty promises. the perfect lies he created with a smug look and twinkle in his dark eyes, more charming than his infamous reputation led you to believe.

more charming, terrifying, mysterious, and guarded than you had ever seen in a man.

he lied to you time and time again. you closed your eyes against the weight that dragged your entire body down—so heavy it was like it never wanted you to stand properly again.

the girl’s tight grip steadied you.

“i want to be wanted,” you said weakly, eyes fluttering open again to see the grim look on her face.

her jaw was clenched tight. “i did too. but that is not an option.”

your whole heart shattered all over again.

“i want…” you mind spiraled, “i want revenge.”

the smile that twitched into her lips was malicious.

“against who?”

you felt like you were floating. “Turner.”

your voice darkened. “my daddy.”

she nodded, a pleasant look on her face now. “good. i will help you.”

before she stepped away and off the platform, you shoved the pouch of money back into her arms.

when she shook her head to refuse, you pressed, tone cutting and vicious, “take it. or take me as a ransom so help me god.”

when she realized you would refuse to let her go uncompensated, either from the harsh tone of your voice, your words, or the twisted tightness in your face, she relented, and disappeared from the changing room again.

you steadied your breath, looking into the full-length mirror hung on the wall.

you didn’t look like the girl you were a week ago.

you were different now—sinful, vengeant, a murderer.

you thought that it suited you better.

the girl came back and took you to a different area of the store: through the compact kitchen, where she fed you something greasy, savory, and foreign that you consumed in mere bites, then you swallowed down a steaming cup of tea, and she helped wash in a tub.

rubbing and lathing up soap through your hair as you scrubbed down your body. she was unashamed of your bare state, and the newfound rush that boiled in your veins left you uncaring for it.

after you dried off, she took you to the upper floors of the store to a bedroom—the old woman’s, you recognized later on, when the elder woman brought in several elaborate dresses with a wry smile on her face. the bedroom smelled herbal and picante, you noticed, as you were stripped of your clothes again and redressed in the undergarments the girl lent you.

the old woman said something to you—pleasant with a bellow of laughter—before she trudged out the room with heavy steps.

when you looked at the girl in confusion, the only thing she offered was, “she was very happy the day her husband died. she hopes you can find that same happiness.”

whether it was an ominous omen, or a cruel joke, you couldn’t shake it as she laid out a pale evening gown of silk with patterned lilac flowers up the front. your breath hitched as you smoothed a hand over it, the beads adorning its hems, and the lace gathered along its short puff sleeves.

“i think it would suit you,” the girl said, face lax and fond as she picked it up from the bed and pressed it into your hands.

“how could i accept this?” you asked weakly, and she held up the drawstring pouch, jingling its contents lightly in your face, though not unkindly.

“i know my worth,” the girl said with a deadpanned simplicity that made you smile at the sheer absurdity of it all. 

she helped you slide on the dress, over your corset and drawers, and sat you down at the chipped vanity by the windows where the natural light of mid-day came streaming through that aided you as she drew up your hair into a loose updo. 

you used the powder, eyeshadow, and rogue on the vanity and painted your lips with a careful hand. the girl’s hand came to rest on your exposed nape, and you shivered, not used to the exposed air along your bare arms, neck, and chest due to the low bust of the dress.

the girl placed the revolver on the vanity beside you and you pocketed it through the slit-opening between the layer of your petticoat and dress.

you looked into the mirror of the vanity and the girl’s reflection stared back, expression placid and cool, easing your own nerves.

she said with confidence, “you look lovely.”

you winced at the word, grateful that it went unnoticed to her.

she continued, “tonight, when you reach Turner’s party, there will be violence and bloodshed.”

she slid a box of matches onto the vanity. “wreak havoc. he has run these streets for far too long.”

you pocketed the box with a nod, the box knocking against your revolver, watching her head tilt in the mirror.

“maybe one-four-one will run these streets in time.” a smile flashed across her face before it was gone. “i think things would become better.”

you reached back to grasp at her hand on your neck. “i will make sure you are better compensated when it happens.”

she blinked, eyes flickering with a curiosity. “you will work with one-four-one even after all they have done to you?”

with a sigh, you nodded. “they are all i know. i care too much for them.”

“and Ghost?”

you released her hand, looked away from the mirror, and trained your eyes on the bustling street through the window. “him included.”

you heard her shift behind you. “i cared for him once too. i hope it ends happier for you than it did for me. maybe in marriage.”

you grimaced. “you think i should marry him?”

she was silent for so long that you looked back at her from over your shoulder. she sat with an impeccable posture and a sad tightness in her expression.

“he has used you. he has hurt you. maybe he did not come this dawn to protect you. from Turner and from himself. although he has failed time and time again, maybe his intentions are with a good heart.”

good heart. you didn’t know if you could use those words to describe him.

“albeit, he did not know i would betray him like this. i stole his lover away,” she said with a mischievous look and an air of accomplishment that made you smile.

“are you not worried that one-four-one will punish you for it?”

she only shrugged. “what will they do to me? with this money—” she held up the drawstring, “—i will run away and buy property to live off myself. or i will marry a rich, powerful old man and wait until he dies like the old woman did.”

you laughed at that, remembering the pleasant look on the old woman’s face as she left the bedroom, full of delight and fondness at the memory of her own husband’s death. maybe, you could imagine yourself running a successful clothing boutique like this.

the image soured. you realized you could much better imagine the girl maintaining her own business rather than you.

you could better imagine yourself married with children—their blonde heads bobbing and dark brown eyes twinkling with delight. your chest deflated with a heavy weight.

she pulled you from your thoughts, a new stoicism to her face. “whatever you do with Simon, make sure you use him twice as much as he used you.”

you flinched at the proposition, but her resolve was like steel. you knew she meant it from the way she pinned up the last of your hair with steadied hands and a wall of iron over her elegant features.

for the rest of the afternoon, you stayed up in that bedroom, exchanging stories of your girlhoods. how you grew up in a small town embedded in the dusty, desert west, manning saloon bars and entertaining your daddy’s business partners. the girl told you about her childhood in china, the impoverished peoples in her town, and the ships that came to the nearby big city port that offered families sell off their young girls for services in america.

you had never been impoverished and you had never gone hungry. you listened with horror to the way she described the malnutrition in her town—the way her ribs hung over her sunken stomach, and the cavernous hunger that felt like shooting pains all over her body.

you were surprised when she was so stricken by the way you described the neglectful nature of your daddy and mama that you used to see as a different avenue of affection unique to your own family. she described her tight-knit relationship to her mother, how there was no veil of secrecy between them, only a flow of transparency unlike her and her father.

then, she described her first years in america. how she was starving more than ever with almost no pay, manipulating the managers of each brothel to transfer her, running from establishment to establishment until she found the wealthy brothel chain associated with one-four-one where she met Ghost.

she described him when he was younger—“bearing a quiet, devouring hunger for power,” she had said with such simplicity it almost made you grimace. he was brash and rash fighting the law until he bribed them out of it, she explained, growing his influence through the west through bigger investments and bigger bribes.

she admitted that in her naivety, she had seen his indifference to her as a kindness, and fell in love. she waited earnestly for months until his next return when he would give her a large sum and she would spill all her secrets of illegal business syndicates reinforced by politics within the largest western hub for organized crime—san francisco.

they would mule over long nights together, piecing together motives, crimes, big players, moving pieces, in a never-ending chess game of control over the western frontier between gangs. he had trusted her all with it.

“and i never betrayed him till now,” she reminded you with a wink. “i wonder what he would do if he knew i was leading his little lamb right into the lion’s den…”

you didn’t want to know the dark thoughts that churned in her head as you watched her ponder in silence, a hand to her chin.

soon, she was drawing a shawl over your shoulders and leading you down the steps of the shop, passing through that crowded room where the seamstresses worked, shouted, and trained their attention to you with a curiosity for mere moments before they looked down at the fabrics between their hands again.

you only saw a flash of the old woman’s dark smile, an impish look in her eyes, before she was turning away and disappearing into the fray.

the girl led you out of the shop and into the street where a horse and buggy waited with a coachman at its head. it was the manager of the brothel. he grinned at you, sinister and eerie, gold tooth flashing.

when you faltered, she explained easily, “i organized it for your arrival at the party. it needs to look convincing.”

she helped you up into the carriage and you slid into it, smoothing over your dress and tugging at the shawl to keep any of your exposed skin from showing in the light of the early evening. she handed you a pair of white gloves that you slipped on and then a pearl white mask with light purple feathers.

“you have done too much for me,” you said, feeling guilty as you peered down into her face, but she shook her head.

“i told you i would help you. i have. now, you owe a debt to me,” she said, voice low and laced with threat. you suppressed a shiver but nodded eagerly nonetheless.

“i thought i was saving you from one-four-one. then, i thought i was saving you from your father. mostly, i’m saving you from yourself,” she mused, and you felt stumped as you pat your knee with a softness.

“what do you mean?” you asked with a furrowed brow, jolting when she closed the door of the carriage in your face.

you heard the coachman hitch the horses with a shout, and the carriage began meandering slowly up the road. 

you hung out the window with a panicked alarm, but she only grinned at you.

“we are the same in many ways, sister!” she shouted over the clop of hooves and the wheels churning over stone as the carriage pulled away.

sister. you had never had one of those.

“what is your name?” you called, and she shouted back, “Yue-Yi!”

the big grin on your face made your cheeks ache as Yue-Yi waved, wishing you could say so much more as she grew smaller and smaller in the distance, a shorter figure joining her by the sidewalk to wave goodbye. when you squinted your eyes, you could make out the frizzy grayed hair of the old woman.

turning back into your seat in the carriage, you tied the mask onto your face and steeled your nerves, grasping the revolver and matches through the layers of your gown with a eerie calm that settled over you like a thick veil.

as you neared Turner’s estate, more carriages coalesced into a line, queuing up to its large, sprawling and trim lawn, adorned with hedges and fountains that twinkled in the low light of the evening.

you craned your neck out the carriage window to get a glimpse of the sheer architecture of the residency—massive and victorian, with pointed roofs and limestone carvings. you had always thought your home was impressive in your small town but this mansion dwarfed it.

the carriage lurched to a stop, horses whinnying with a stomp. you waited with bated breath in front of the great, arched entrance of the place, listening to the coachman walk over to the door of the carriage and open it, offering a polite hand.

you took it, ignoring his gold-toothed smile and tossed your shawl back into the carriage quite rudely. with the new exposure of your skin, and the growth of his grin, you jerked your hand back from his and gave him a rushed thanks.

but before you made your way up the steps to the elegant entrance, lined with guardsmen in black three-piece suits and fashionable bowler hats, where more guests lingered for admission in fancy attire, you turned back to the manager of the brothel, puffing up your chest with a new confidence.

“you,” you snapped. his brows rose in reply, sly smirk only growing more, much to your discontent.

“yes?” he said, stepping forward. you stepped back.

“Yue-Yi is one of your best workers, no?”

his mouth open and closed before nodding, that greasy smile never leaving his lips.

“you should increase her pay,” you said, impressed by the cool indifference of your own manner.

turning on your heel, you spoke over your shoulder, “or else she might find better avenues of self-employment.”

he paled slightly at that, smirk dropping from his face, and you smiled sweetly, making your way up the steps before remembering yourself. you turned back to him and his pale, stiff disposition before curtsying with the most properness your mother had ever taught you, then continued your ascent to the doors.

you didn’t look back to see if he still lingered with that dumb, pale look on his face. the very thought made you grin bigger.

the line slowly trickled through the entrance as the guardsmen checked names off a list. a new nervous fervor built in you. looking around the lines, and at women and men who lingered together in their own parties, you sidled closer to a loud, unsuspecting woman and her two other female friends, all donned in light yellows and dark magentas and fanning themselves.

when you were just steps from the entrance, the women gave the guards their names, and you craned your neck to see the interior of the residency. lavish, loud, overly decorated in golds and marbles. nothing you would expect less from the old, obnoxious Turner.

“good evening, miss,” one guardsman said, and you jolted from your thoughts, eyes snapping to his. he tilted his head. “your name?”

“i…” you felt stupid, mouth opening and closing, not sure of what to do when—

you crept closer to him, hoping it went unnoticed to the distracted parties around you, and his brows rose slightly, a strange look crossing his face.

you snuck a gloved hand onto his arm, his gaze lingered at your touch, to the exposed skin of your low-cut dress, neck, then your eyes. you cocked your head, sliding your hand up his arm.

“mary smith,” you lied with an ease, and he nodded dumbly, looking through the list. you knew that he wouldn’t find that name and he knew it too.

he cleared his throat, shifting under your touch. “no chaperone, miss?”

you wanted to curse yourself. you had become so accustomed to running off through the west without a chaperone that you had completely forgotten an unmarried, young lady needed one at all.

“maybe you could suffice, sir,” you whispered with a light giggle, and watched with amazement as a slow pink flush crept up into his ears and cheeks.

he cleared his throat again, gesturing to the entrance and avoiding your eyes, “i’m sure our boss wouldn’t mind one extra, lovely young lady.”

you smiled at that, sliding your hand very lightly across his chest as you glided past him, biting back a snort at the way he stiffened under your touch.

crossing the threshold, you stepped into the grand entrance hallway filled with people and you almost melted with relief. making an effort to get lost in the crowd, you snaked in between bodies and conversing groups, their faces adorned with feathered masks and glasses of wine between their gloved fingers.

gliding through the rooms of the residency, you wondered how you would ever find your daddy or Turner in this mess. you stiffened at the thought of crossing paths with one-four-one by mistake.

wringing your hands nervously as your head whipped around between the loud, noisy surroundings, you realized for the first time how utterly alone you were in this mansion.

hundreds of people may have been stuffed into the place, but you were the sole person on this mission, and whether one-four-one had shown up to this party or not, you were the sole person who knew your own plans to kill the party host and turn tail.

with his death, hopefully, you could carve a good chunk of your daddy’s money out of his business. you quieted any alarming thoughts about your mama.

a large drone of partygoers began moving slowly towards the opposite side of the room, and you followed the crowd into the main family room that dwarfed the houses of your small town. looking up into the curve of the ceiling adorned with paintings, a large chandelier hung down into the cavernous room littered with tables of food and colorful banisters. 

at the head of the room, near a fireplace, a man stood in a crisp black suit and bow-tie with a curling black mustache and greased black hair flecked with grays on a platform. Turner.

you hadn’t seen his beady, blue eyes and grim, twisted face since dinner with him, your daddy, and mama since months ago along with that haughty wife of his, who stood proud and arrogant by his shoulder.

your mouth soured at the sight of them and you felt around the skirt of your dress, feeling the handle of your gun through the layers.

if you shot him now, could you run away in time? and if they caught you, what would happen?

Turner took a glass cup and clinked a spoon against it, grabbing the room’s attention as it diminished into a silence.

you grasped the gun tighter between your hands.

“thank you for coming,” he said, low, rumbly voice ringing out over the crowd. “we are here today—” he reached back and you watched with amazement as a little girl stepped up onto the platform, grasping onto his hand with a shy, meek look, “—to celebrate my daughter’s birthday.”

your stomach curled at his words, grip going slack against your dress.

if you had shot him right there and then, in the midst of this swarming crowd, maybe you could’ve slipped away easily in the scrambling panic of the crowd. but he would’ve dropped dead, blood oozing from his in a dark puddle, right in front of his own daughter.

the thought made you feel nauseous.

the tall, broad frame that creeped up beside you startled you with a jolt, and you looked up to find an incredibly tall and massive body of a ginger man with a black mask tied around his face. he had his hands behind his back, looking lax with an arrogant smirk on his face. he peered down at you from his shoulder.

“hello there,” he said quietly, under the words that Turner continued to bellow to the crowd. his accent was foreign. maybe german.

“this is an interesting party, no? with masks and such,” he gestured to the crowd, and you struggled to find words. 

“i guess,” you croaked, voice scratchy and thick. his smirk only widened.

“what are you doing in this big crowd without a chaperone, little lady?”

you wanted to shrink away from him at that moment, feeling awkward and exposed under the burn of his gaze.

“i have business to conduct.”

he laughed loud and throaty, earning a few hostile glances from the people around you, and you winced, trying to step away and disappear into the crowd but his big hand came to rest on your shoulder and you went impossibly stiff. 

“i do, too, little lady.” 

he bent down closer to your ear and you shivered. “how do you know, Turner?”

your mouth opened and closed.

“family connections.”

his eyes widened beneath the mask—the color an exotic pale green that you had never seen before.

“really?” he shifted closer to you and you tugged at his grip on your shoulder, trying to move away but the strength of his massive body easily overpowered your own.

“can i tell you a secret, little lady?”

you shook your head with a strong, “no,” but he continued you anyways.

“i know you have a gun in that pocket.”

you went impossibly rigid, breath catching in your throat and he chuckled lowly in your ear.

“i don’t know who’s paying you, but they’re incredibly clever, hiring an innocent-looking little lady like you. you almost fooled me.”

you grit out through a clenched jaw, “and just who are you, sir?”

he released you with an, “ah, my apologies, i need to remember my manners.”

you turned to him, craning your head up to look up into his face, shoulders set with frustration at the prospect of somehow being… caught.

he sighed out, sounding disappointed. “you should know me if you’re in this sort of line of work, but i guess i’ll tell you my name.”

then, he gave you a lop-sided smile. “i’m Konig.”

you blinked at him. “okay.”

the smile slid off his lips. “okay? haven’t you heard of me?”

there was a bitter taste in your mouth as you shook your head slowly, and his face crunched into deeper disappointment. you almost regretted giving him the reply that you did, and you would have, if he didn’t start going on a tangent about himself.

“you should know me,” he insisted, putting a hand to his chest, “i’m Konig. i’m very famous in this line of work. i work under kortac.”

your brows pinched together, neck beginning to ache just from looking up at him.

he only sighed again. “i guess americans don’t know kortac. no matter. i’ll just have to kill you before eliminating Turner.”

at that, you jolted, beginning to scramble backwards as he reached out to you once more.

“wait—!” you shrieked, crashing into a trio of ladies that shrieked on impact, flailing as you turned to flee from the large man, but a loud, splintering shatter echoed through the entire room and the lights flickered overhead.

everything stilled and you stopped in your tracks. you looked up into the ceiling, at the chandelier overhead, stomach dropping when you saw the thing sway, then with more ear-rupturing splinters, in almost a slow-motion, began to crash down to the floor where you stood.

the entire room flooded with screams and shouts as the crowd scrambled out of the room. bodies pushed against yours and you almost fell to your knees, screeching when a hand hoisted you up and pushed you forward toward a narrow hallway stemming from the room.

a harsh german accent was in your ear, “fick mich—move, move, american!”

you did, as fast as you could, through the snaking crowd, and you clutched at your ears with a scream when gunshots rang through the room.

and when you turned to look over your shoulder, you saw a familiar broad body, clad in all black with a black mask, a tussle of dirty blonde hair shaved down on the sides of his head and pieces that hung down his forehead, and a silver scar on his upper lip with a revolver raised and aimed at Turner.

you couldn’t turn and go back with Konig’s massive body blocking your path and urging you forward. picking up the hem of your dress, you pushed through the squirming crowd and into the narrow hallway.

a resounding crash shook the entire mansion, and you almost fell to the ground again from the vibrations of it, but Konig picked you back up and pushed you behind a curtained area in the nook of the hallway.

when you were obscured from the rest of partygoers rushing through the mansion, Konig turned to you and put a hand around your throat, squeezing tight, and the other hand shoving a revolver right beneath your chin.

you clawed at his grip on your throat, glaring into the emptiness of his green eyes. with the last of your strength, you spit on his face, and he drew back his hand around your throat to wipe it away with a look of disgust. you scrambled away from him, gulping in breaths of air, but he only reached out and pulled you back with a tight grip around your arm.

you whipped your head back at him, trying to kick at him, but he pressed you to the wall with ease and a curiously amused look.

“you are not very good at this, little lady,” he admitted, and that only pissed you off.

with all your strength, you stomped as hard as you could on his foot, and he hissed out, reeling back but not easing his grip on you at all.

“i don’t even know what you’re talking about!” you shrieked, wriggling, and his brow furrowed.

“no? were you not hired to kill Turner?”

“no!” you almost screamed between desperation and frustration, and he released you. with a gasp you crashed to the floor.

“really?” he asked, helping you up with a tight grip that sent another flurrying panic through you, and you squirmed out of his touch. this time, he let you.

“yes,” you said, exasperated, fixing the dishevelment of your dress, and Konig stared at you, revolver laying limp by his side.

“oh,” he said, quietly, and you just glared at him, sending him a strange look when he began to fumble with his hands. now, he wouldn’t look at you, strangely awkward and apprehensive.

“sorry,” he mumbled, and you huffed, taking the moment to pull out your own revolver and dig it into his stomach.

he barely responded—just giving you that same distant, awkward look.

“you’re right,” you hissed, cocking the gun, and his brows only raised slightly as you continued, “i wasn’t hired to kill Turner. i’m doing this on my own accord.”

that seemed to pique his interest because he tilted his head, shoving his revolver into the breast pocket of his coat. “oh? pray tell, american?”

you rolled your eyes. “it’s none of your business, sir.”

you drew back the curtain and stomped into the hallway, looking around and unsettled by the eerie quietness of the place. most of the partygoers had emptied the mansion already, only distant gunshots and shouts and crashes of noise vibration through the place.

when you saw Turner’s men barrel past a couple corridors away, you rushed backwards with a squeak and almost screamed when you crashed into Konig’s big chest.

he looked down at you with a blank look and a steadying hand on your hip that you immediately swatted away. instead, you hurried down a corridor in the opposite direction of where Turner’s men had been headed, and felt an increasing annoyance when Konig started following you.

you turned to snap over your shoulder, “go away.”

the quiet thuds of his footsteps faltered and then picked up again and you huffed with annoyance.

turning fully to him with crossed arms and your revolver still in hand, he stopped a marginal distance from you with a hurt look on his face.

“what?” you asked, and his frown only deepened.

“let’s make an agreement, little lady.”

“why should i do that?” you asked honestly. “you’re a criminal and an assassin.”

the blank look he gave you only pulled you into self-reflection. technically, you were also a criminal, and mere steps away from a self-employed assassin.

“you want to kill Turner,” he said, and you jolted when more gunshots only got louder, maybe mere hallways away, but he continued without so much as a blink, “and i want to kill Turner for money. let’s make an agreement—i will let you kill him if you let me lie to my superiors and say that it was in fact i who killed him. otherwise, i will have to kill you for getting in my way.”

your stomach curdled at the easy way he said it.

when a smug smirk twisted his face, you winced at the sinister nature of it. “besides, you need me. i am very good at my job, no? my name is Konig for a reason.”

you mulled over his offer. what he proposed was reasonable and made perfect sense. although you didn’t know what Konig meant, you assumed he earned the name for a respectable talent in his profession. killing people.

but could you trust him?

you looked over the relaxed nature of his body, smug and arrogant and cocksure you would take up his agreement. you could trust him just as much as the devilish outlaw who earned his name for murdering without a trace—Ghost.

“alright, Konig,” you said bitterly, “let’s see how much you can offer me.”

his smirk only grew. “i can offer you a lot of things, little lady,” he sang, that arrogant look on his face only inflating as he turned on his heel and headed directly towards the gunshots.

faltering, you fell close in step behind his massive body and felt a panic when the gunshots and shouts sounded closer. he sent you a smug look and turned sharply into a different hallway, your head on a swivel for stray people as he led you into an immense library.

“why are we here?” you asked, turning in a circle to take in the multiple levels of the place. 

he didn’t answer you, only walking up to a case of books on the far edge of a book-filled wall, and reached far back into its shelves where he searched around for something with a face of concentration. you watched with unease, looking over so often at the entrance of the library with your revolver in hand.

something clicked in the wall. your eyes widened in amazement as Konig stepped back and the bookcase shifted with a squeaking grown, slowly pulling pack and screeching to the side. behind it was a narrow, dim stone corridor lit with electric bulbs.

“see?” Konig offered, hand reaching out to you, “i can offer you much more than murder, little lady.”

rolling your eyes, you took his hand and scurried down the corridor quickly for fear of the vulnerable exposure in the immense library. Konig led you down the path blanketed with a thin layer of water, the corridor dripping water overhead, and a musk, dank smell in the air. his big back was the only thing you could see in the dim lighting of the narrow hallway.

you tried to quell any lingering thoughts of anxiety coursing through you—what if Konig had taken you down here to kill you?

what if he was actually one of Turner’s men posing as a hired assassin?

that almost stopped you in your tracks, and when he sent you a confused look from over your shoulder, filled with nothing but focus on the task ahead, you scurried forward again, closer to him than you had been before.

through the never-ending winding corridors, Konig seemed to maneuver them with an eerie precision and ease, sometimes stopping to observe the halls with a sweeping glance, and then continuing ahead without so much as a word.

soon, the winding path tracked into a sharp incline until you reached a dead-end. Konig searched over the surface of the stone wall with his gloved hands and pressed around till there was a soft click and the thing stuttered open with a groan.

he gave you another victorious smirk and helped you through the entrance with a polite hand that you took begrudgingly. you entered into a bedroom this time—one that looked untouched and picked clean.

probably a guest bedroom, you realized, then jumped forward with a start when the entrance of the corroder began sliding shut behind you. it was a bookcase like before, and you watched in awe as it dragged shut backwards into its nook, settling with a cloud of dust.

Konig waved at it with a cough and strode forward to open the bedroom door and into the hallway. you followed him quickly.

peering down the empty and deadly silent hallway, you spotted a carved wood banister of a staircase at the end of it and realized that you must’ve been on an upper floor now.

“we are near Turner’s bedroom now,” Konig said, and you cocked a brow at him.

“how do you know all of this?” you pressed, and he shrugged.

“i memorized the blueprint.”

you resisted rolling your eyes, and instead with a tinge of sarcasm said, “impressive.”

he puffed up with pride and a strong nod. “i know.”

you allowed yourself to roll your eyes.

creeping along the hallway, Konig neared a grand set of carved double doors and gold handles that no doubt looked to be the primary bedroom.

“how do you know Turner will be here?” you whispered, a sudden creeping apprehension coming over you. your hands twisted around the gun to ease a heavy feeling in your chest.

this felt rushed and not right at all.

you hadn’t even prepared yourself.

you swallowed hard. how were you going to kill this man when you knew him better than the others you had killed? more than Charles and his associate and Turner’s lackey who had chased you and John down on horseback? 

“i don’t,” Konig said, placing a gloved hand on the handle, sending you a smirk, “just a good guess.”

he began to turn the gilded handle of the door when a loud gunshot ricocheted through the hallway, shattering a vase by your side as a bullet whizzed past your shoulder.

with a shriek, you scrambled back against the wall, seeing a dozen of Turner’s men rushing down the long, long corridor of the hallway, and suddenly the bedroom doors were kicked open, three guardsmen bursting through.

Konig was quick to move, shooting one in the face and the other in his leg, taking the third beneath his arm and crushing his neck in a quick jerk that had him falling limp to the carpet.

the man with the shot leg screamed in pain, clutching at his own leg and hobbling near you with a scrunched expression. you bit back any feeling of sympathy and wound up your good arm, punching him straight in the face.

he fell to the ground with a thud and Konig gave you an approving, crazy laugh, reloading his revolver and shot down the hall—two men fell in his wake.

“go,” he urged, jerking his head in the direction of Turner’s room, and its doors that were swung wide open, “i will take care of these men, little lady, you just remember our agreement!”

“wait—” you called with an outstretched arm, a gripping uncertainty wracking you, but Konig was already gone.

at the conjoinment of another hallway, more of Turner’s men poured into the vicinity, and you heard Konig curse loudly as he rushed forward, before a new slew of people flooded into the opposite side of the hallway.

you recognized a broad, blonde male as Ghost and another smaller blonde form as Kate, Soap, John, and Gaz somewhere in the fray, and with Alejandro and Rudolfo and los vaqueros added to it, it looked like the real war Ghost had promised you days ago.

is this why he had left you at that brothel this morning? because a full-drawn out war would happen right here in Turner’s mansion? knowing you would refuse to stay away from the bloodshed if he hadn’t lied to you last night?

even now, with all his lies, you had refused to stay away anyways.

you clutched at your own chest, trying not to sink down into the floor and stay there forever, and pushed yourself from the carpet, heaving yourself up onto the handle of the doors and slamming both shut behind you quickly.

with heavy, panicked breaths that forced through your choked up throat, you fought back any tears that brimmed in your eyes as you pressed your forehead to the cool surface. you felt lightheaded and eerily light. you wanted Yue-Yi’s tight grip on you to ground you again. or Ghost’s arms to wind around you. or even the mean pinch of your mama’s fingers on your skin.

tears fell down your cheeks.

Ghost—would he be okay? alive? 

even Konig, who you had just met, who had been so willing to help you, for no good reason, mirroring the way he seemed to work without much reasoning at all, had you doubled over with nauseating worry.

the soft click of a gun behind you had you stiffening.

slowly, you turned from the door, grip tight on your own revolver that you hid from sight behind the wide berth of the skirt of your evening gown.

you were met with the sight of Turner, standing poised and indigent, revolver trained on you. you didn’t miss the shake in his hands.

he looked so much less pronounced in person. graying and old and aging and just as wrinkly as you remembered him to be, but less sinister than your mind painted him. average and normal and face stricken with the same sort of roiling panic you were feeling in the moment. you took him in with a new ease.

despite being the west’s biggest gang leader, he seemed diminished in such a close proximity.

“you,” he hissed, lip curled with disgust, “i thought you were dead.”

you swallowed hard, tight throat and unable to produce a single sound.

behind him, you saw his wife cowering in the corner with his small daughter trembling in her embrace.

you narrowed your eyes at them and Turner stepped forward sharply in threat.

you found your voice, steady and strong, “where are my daddy and mama?”

he scoffed, looking away from you briefly before brandishing the revolver around at you. it only reminded yourself of when you had been scared and inexperienced with a weapon.

“afraid i killed them?” he asked with a sinister smile, and a roil of annoyance wrung through you.

you trained your gun on his wife and daughter who shrieked, the little girl shaking with sniveling cries. Turner stiffened.

“you wouldn’t,” he said, voice low and rumbling with a ferocity, and you just nodded.

“i wouldn’t, so i’ll let them leave before i kill you.”

his eyes flashed, lips twisted into a menacing scowl.

“fine.”

his wife and daughter skirted out the room, crumpled down and low to the floor as they scurried past you out the double doors of the room. as soon as you shut the entrance behind them with a shaky exhale, tuning back to Turner, he lurched towards you with a strangled shout.

you reeled back, back slamming against the doors as he swung for you, and you ducked, scrambling over the floor with a shriek. he grabbed a fistful of your dress and pulled you back towards him across the carpet, wrestling you down to the ground, and you punched and shoved at his face, rolling across the carpet and trying to squirm out of his tight grip. his hands found your neck and crushed down on your throat with a strength that pushed all the air from your lungs.

you jerked up your knee, hitting him straight in a sore spot that had him hissing and grip going slack, just enough to shove him off you with as much strength as you could muster, and he skidded away, landing against the floor with a thud.

you gasped for breath, light-headed but vision sharper than ever as you raised the revolver, just before Turner was reaching for something across the carpet—a small white box.

your eyes widened. you recognized it as the one Yue-Yi had gifted you—wreak havoc, she had said, and you watched with a curl of panic as he struck a match and threw it to the edge of the room, a blooming fire bursting forth with a rush of shocking heat that had you crossing your arms over your face with a scream.

you scrambled back from the fire that consumed the room with a terrifying speed, revolver trained on Turner’s crumpled figure sprawled over the floor a marginal distance away.

he picked up his head and gave you a sinister look.

“your daddy and mama are dead.”

a strangled, animalistic sound clawed through your throat, and you screamed as a sob wracked you, aiming your revolver and shooting him right in the knee.

he screamed, shifting away from you, the pristine white carpet pooling with a new crimson puddle and singing at the edges with an ominous black.

you struggled to breath in the room, the air tinged with a thick smog and flickers of strewn ash that felt hot when they landed on your skin.

“i doused this entire mansion with gas,” he rasped, coughing through the smoke, “if you try to kill me, you’ll burn with me.”

he laughed, body shaking violently when more coughs wracked through him, blood splattering across the carpet and painting his lips with an unnatural red.

slowly, you made your way towards your knees with a great effort, your exposed skin flushed painfully from the heat of the surrounding fire, a portion of the canopy bed behind him crumbling, fire spreading across the carpet with hot, swelling licks.

you tried to scream but couldn’t through the tight swollen soreness of your throat, edging from its path as it skirted around you.

you forced words out, a searing raw pain in your throat, “why would you do this?”

all of it? you wanted to scream, why would he try to kill you? your daddy? your mama?

then, you coughed, hand pressed to your mouth as the motion shook you to your core, tears spilling down your cheeks to dispel the smoke, and his smile only grew. 

“i own you,” he whispered, barely audible over the loud crackle of the fire, curtains melting away from the windows as the carpet peeled up from the floorboards.

“i won’t let that bastard Simon Riley take you from me.”

you almost snarled at him, tempted to aim your revolver at his head and just put a whole round into his brain. but that felt rushed and not right at all.

you wanted him to suffer. painful and slow. the thought gave you a sliver of sanity.

you hissed out, “i won’t kill you.”

his eyes flashed, twitching against the carpet like he was going to tackle you again, but the stiffness in his bloody, soaked pant leg prevented him from moving.

you smiled—so wide that it cracked your dry lips.

“i’ll leave you to burn in hell,” you said, clambering to your feet, swaying in the open air, dizzy and nausea wringing through your head, because you just couldn’t really breathe, and Turner let out a strangled cry.

“you can’t leave!” he said, voice tinged with a ferocious desperation as he clawed forward suddenly, and the quick motion had you reeling backwards and tipping back to the world swung in front of your eyes.

you fell back down against the carpet, face narrowly missing a ring of fire, more furniture crumpled chunks of ash and blackened wood just beyond it.

“i own you,” he snarled, voice a throaty sinister rasp. his hand closed around your ankle and a new curling disgust bloomed from deep within your gut.

you looked down at him and thrust the tip of your revolver against his sweaty, red forehead. his eyes blew wide, bloody lips parting with a new fearful sort of shock that twisted your stomach in the most pleasant ways you didn’t know that you could feel.

“i choose who owns me,” you whispered, and you knew he heard you from the way his eyes just stretched further, and you blew straight clean through his forehead.

he fell completely limp against the carpet, lifeless and void of the crawling desperation you had just seen mere moments before.

more tears came pouring down your cheeks and you shoved your knee into the side of his face, biting back a scream when you saw the gaping, bloody gouge of flesh in his forehead and the cool, empty placidness of his blue eyes.

you killed him. his warm grip was still around your ankle.

scrambling back away from the dead body, you gasped when the exposed skin of your arm was enveloped with something unbearably hot, wet, and rippling in undulations.

pulling your arm away from the fire, you stared in horror at the new char of your skin and the way your silk gloves had half-melted into your arm with a goopy liquidity.

the scalding pain sharpened your senses, and you hauled yourself towards the double doors, raw skin flush to the carpet, and you strained up to the handles of the doors, fingers just wrapping around it when the door opened from beneath you.

you fell forward with your eyes screwed shut, trying to push yourself off the ground, and gentle hands hoisted you towards a broad, strong body low to the ground.

“princess, princess, princess—”

lips were against your ear and you immediately curled into his touch, eyes fluttering open to see his warmth and inviting just mere inches from your own.

face maskless and bare.

you had never felt so much relief.

“Simon?” you squeaked, voice meek and quiet and half as strong as you had forced it to be the whole day. you melted into him, muscles going lax with weakness.

he hissed when you leaned against him, and you pulled back slightly to take in the charred material of his suit stuck to an oozing wetness beneath it—sopping red with blood.

you choked on more sobs but he just shushed you, stroking a hand through your hair before pressing his face to your neck, then your hair.

“it’ll be alright, princess.”

you had never heard his voice so weak before. he leaned back against the ground, the walls still up in flames around him, and you watched his body fight to stay up before sliding slowly to the ground.

you pulled yourself forward, fighting back coughs as you laid next to him.

“you need to get up,” he rasped, pushing you away with a hand. the movement just made you hiss in desperate frustration.

“no. m’staying right here,” you said, curling closer to him, and he let you, face soft and relaxed as the entrance to Turner’s bedroom crumbled just beyond your feet.

you took in the curves of his bare face—the age and lines and scars that reflected only a shimmering honesty in the fragile moment.

with great effort you craned over him to kiss that silvery scar on his upper lip, and when you pulled back he only gave you a weak smile.

“you never listen to me,” he whispered, voice throaty and wrung through, and you could only smile back.

“never,” you agreed, intertwining your fingers with his.

“i was late this morning,” he rasped, nosing through your hair, “and when i arrived you were gone.

“i thought you finally came to your bloody senses and ran away—” he was cut off by a series of wracking coughs, and you pressed your forehead to your intertwined hands, shaking with sniveling tears.

“i thought you had abandoned me,” you whispered.

he kissed the crown of your head. “never.”

you melted into him.

he sounded stricken with anger. “i’ve lied to you.”

“i know,” you said, brushing a finger over the lightness of his lashes.

“you were supposed to run away,” he said weakly, “you were never supposed to stay. since the beginning, you were supposed to run away.”

“is that why you were late this morning?” you croaked, and he nodded against your hair.

“i was relieved when you were gone,” he said, “but i think it killed me.”

with drooping eyelids and a swirling smog clouding your senses, you distantly remembered how you felt that morning. like you had left behind your shattered heart in that brothel. like you had died in that room and you left behind your body and you were floating as a ghost through the san francisco streets. 

“leaving killed me,” you said softly, through rough coughs, and he only pulled you closer. 

“you weren’t supposed to be here, either,” he muttered, breaths shallow and weak in your ear.

you craned your neck to look up at him, taking in his face fully, and the droop of his tired eyes, before thumbing over the scars along his jaw.

“anything else to confess to me?” you asked, soft and he nodded.

“i lied to you.”

your brow pinched, another cough rippling from your throat. “i know that.”

he shook his head with a weakness that had your heart crumbling. “long time ago. that night on the train.”

the breath died in your throat and he pressed his forehead against yours, warm and solid.

“i said i bedded you for revenge. i lied.”

the floor fell away from beneath you and you felt like you were floating.

“why?” you croaked, and his smile was wistful.

“so full of questions.”

“always,” you said, pressing him further, but his eyes closed, breaths growing with a louder rasp now. a violent panic crawled up your chest and you nudged him, relieved when his eyes cracked open again.

“in time,” he whispered, and the strangled, frustrated sound that left your throat that only made his smile grow.

“i’m sorry i didn’t take you on that date,” he said, and you shook your head, the tip of your nose against his.

“i know why you didn’t,” you insisted, and he frowned.

“you’re supposed to be mad at me.”

you frowned back. “stop telling me what i’m supposed to be.”

at that, he only smirked, looking strangely satisfied as he stroked a thumb over the exposed, hot, raw skin of your neck.

you took a shaky deep breath, only swallowing down more smoke that had you coughing with a grimace. “just…”

his dark, swirling eyes that were so familiar now were dimmed but just as warm. you took your charred hand, ignoring the searing pain of it, and brushed it over his blonde hair. he closed his eyes at your gentle touch.

“please kiss me,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered open, lurching forward with a stiff clumsiness at the awkward position, and suddenly his warm lips were pressed to your own.

you didn’t know what you were doing—just that the rhythmic movement of his soft flesh molding against yours had a honey warmth dripping through your chest and fluttering down your spine.

you tried to match him, flushing at the feeling of his every breath melding into your every exhale in a never-ending steady pulse. your hands snaked into his hair and gripped softly, and a low noise left his throat.

your head spun with the lack of oxygen, and more heavenly moments stretched on until he pulled back, licking over his lips like he had by the railway yesterday. like he was tasting you.

“not bad, princess,” he whispered, eyes fluttering close with a weakness. you pressed against him, unable to fight the droop of your own eyes anymore, a pleasant muffle filling your head, and a purpling black, splotchy glaze dancing from behind your eyelids.

the last thing you felt were his lips against your cheek, the sound of the fire consuming the splintering, crumbling house with loud crackles, distant shouts, and Simon’s soft breaths against your skin.

okay okay i know that this chapter doesn't have smut or much fun stuffff but i hope you liked konig's appearance LMFAO but i can confirm that next chapter there will be 1. the do 😵‍💫 like fr this time 😵‍💫 2. JEALOUS GHOST SDLFJSLEIFJ 3. and yea less angst pls and thank you

i love all of you. please have a wonderful weekend <3 next chapter will be uploaded tuesday (ON TIME TOO)!!

[forbidding-souda]

I can’t even remember if I’ve requested this before and you’ve already written it or not. But uh. Korekiyo spanking S/O? Pretty please? Just anything with that, go wild lol

(Assuming nsfw requests are open. Otherwise just ignore this)

Korekiyo Shinguuji spanking his S/O (NSFW)

4 you anon <3 this took me about 5 hours to write becaues i started watching hamilton roblox and got distracted. this might be too short bc i've actually never experienced spanking like this at all so this is all through the noggin and quora LMFAO WAIT YOU GUYS DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW OFTEN I USE QUORA AS MEANS OF GAINING INFO FOR SOME FICS LMFAOOOOO. here's a gundham spanking one i wrote before that perfectly explains this processs LOL

ya'll oh my god i am so sick rn as if classes don't start in two days bruh fucking free me im gonna slam my head through a wall bruh i get sick so easily it's not even funny i stole some of my roommates benedryl like i'm coughing so hard.

and all of these sprites i've been using this week are copy and pasted from old posts so i def need to remake them with hair color and piercing updates bc helppp LMFAO i'll do that eventually

-Mod Souda

❤ He is the happiest man on the planet whenever it comes to giving you the sexual pleasure you need. He is delighted to be able to serve you.

❤ His long nails will offer soothing yet ticklish caresses to the back of your naked thighs. Your ass is such a tender part of your body, he loves to touch it, to grope it and when he does, he presses his lips to the pulse of your neck to feel how fast your heartbeat goes.

❤ He's always too excited to undress you. Even your shirt will still be on.

❤ He prefers using his hands, loving the physical contact.

❤ He'll have you folded over his lap, or having your front pressed against a wall on your tippy toes. No matter the position, every time you squirm you'll be able to feel his thick erection.

❤ "My, my." He'll coo at each of your desperate gasps.

❤ In between each spank is the sharp tingle that never seems to relent.

❤ For some real visualization:

❤ You had your knees to the floor and your chest against the couch. Your wrists were constructed with his favorite red rope, the color looked so pretty against you. One of his hands held you down from between your shoulder blades while the other went back and forth compacting against your ass.

❤ Your underwear wasn't even fully off and neither was your pants. They were pulled down to just below the fold of your cheeks.

❤ He was too impatient to strip you.

❤ The loud smack made you cry out in pain, especially when his large hand his the sensitive curves, the stinging almost unbearable.

❤ Your muscles kept clenching, kept tensing, and when he saw the shake of your glutes, his spanks would go harder.

❤ Relentless, back and forth, back and forth, giving you no space to even breathe.

❤ Sometimes he'll let you lay across his lap, your back arched and thighs apart, having you wearing nothing but your socks as he punishes you with rough smacks. From his angle he can perfectly capture both cheeks at the same time, giving your body both a cold shock and an aroused hotness. His fingers will be spread, covering ass much of your skin as he can.

❤ "How gorgeous you are," he'll whisper, more at you than him. You can hear how out of breath he is, desperate to be inside of you. "How beautiful, how perfect."

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

Hello Anika! I've noticed that another CN otome game "Lovebrush Chronicle" is being localized in English. What are your thoughts on the story, and is there a ML in the game similar to Victor?

I want to hear your thought because I think you have a good eye on judging a story ❤️ Sorry if this ask seems to be out of nowhere!

hello!!! thank you haha~ ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ಡ yes, the game’s original name is 时空中的绘旅人, also known as For All Time. It’s one of the 4 big CN otoges (the other three: Light and Night, Love and Producer/ MLQC, and Tears of Themis).

idk why they had to change the name smh but then again i can see why too LOL, but if you’re gonna change the character names, change for all of them why change just two?? especially since Emerald’s name is explained precisely so aksjsjs i’m so salty rn lmao

uh about the storyline, i had to try hard to not be lured into yet another game lmao (eyeing L&N akshdhd), so i haven’t actually played the game personally after CBT LOL nor do i keep up with its contents that much, so my knowledge regarding the story and the characters isn’t deep and is limited haha. also, since the premise begins in the AU world + with some other factors, i kinda lost my interest to even begin with LOL.

here’s a brief introduction for you though—

the game’s setting is the AU world ahah, and it also has personal routes. it has battle systems for leveling up your profile / raising cards. i heard it can be pretty grindy, but since i haven’t continued playing it, i can’t comment on that :>

✦ The Heroine:

she is an art student / comic artist in the modern world, but one day she gets sucked into a different AU world while watching her friend’s performance. (she’s so pretty tho u.u)

✦ Ai Yin/ Ayn:

19 years old, goes to the same school as the heroine and a pianist in the modern world. He’s a prince in the AU world, focused on his revenge.

✦ Lu Chen/ Alkaid:

20 years old, a transfer student, the heroine’s senior in a different study (Astronomy), photographer. In the AU world, he’s a mage/ high level priest.

✦ Lu Xia/ Rorschach (re-named as Lars for EN):

27 years old, the heir of a wealthy family, CEO, flirty af. In the AU world, he’s an aggressive and headstrong king.

(if you’re into the “CEO trope”, he could be your pick LOL. but if you’re looking for similarities that actually matter— then aside from just the CEO title and maybe that body lmfao, Victor and him share no other similarities hahaha)

✦ Si Lan/ Clarence:

22 years old, goes to the same school as the heroine and is the student president. He is the head highest priest/ mage in the AU world.

✦ Ye Xuan/ Emerald (re-named as Cael for EN):

An art instructor, took the heroine under his wings, gentle in nature sus lmao. In the AU world, he is the silver knight and leading the revolution.

—

Over all, from what I’ve seen, the story is pretty good, has the intrigue elements for sure. Also plus point, in every AU/ arch you get a common part and then you can choose your love interest to progress for the rest of the story. what it does here is that unlike Lovepro/MLQC + Light and Night main story, where the story itself is very character-driven, you need to shut your brain and consider the MC that specific love interest’s heroine for the allocated segment- or else given the extreme lengths she goes for them/ the said borderline intimacy certainly don’t cut for “just friends” tag LOL. So, if you’re someone who self-inserts (consciously or not) and perhaps is a little uncomfortable with that kind of storytelling, For All Time/ Lovebrush Chronicles is certainly one you can give a try.

For me personally, the writing pattern didn’t seem like my cup of tea + I prefer the storytelling pattern of Lovepro and L&N (singular main story + parallel dates) haha. But hey, we all have different tastes, so be sure to give it a chance if you’re interested. Who knows, you could end up with completely different viewpoints than me! (⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠*⁠)

—

[bogusbyron]

NOW THAT I'M HOME:

Copy pasting les mis notes from today's matinee (30th may) here instead of posting screenshots from my notes app like last time cause i think thisll be easier to read.... There's 73 points and it's LONG so i'll put it under a read more . Go wild hope you find them somewhat interesting. Ignore any errors puhlease 😭🙏

1) Jordan Simon Pollard was on as Javert and he is. Fucking massive. Very imposing. His silhouette on the top of the boat is crazy good

2) Harry Lake as Marius, saw him on may 14th schools matinée, god his voice is gorgeous. As usual amazing

3) the guitar riff in Work Song kind of gets me lol

4) Valjean (Chris Jacobsen) flinching when Javert lifted his hand to pass him the slip. Additionally he has a GREAT voice. Quite gentle

5) The fight where Valjean gets beaten up was a bit awkward lmfao

6) More valjean flinching when the Bishop goes to touch his shoulder

7) chris spitting "thanked him like i should" interesting delivery, quite liked it.... his "took my flight" wasnt as strong is Milan's but whateverrrrrr

8) WILL ALWAYS BE STUNNED BY ADAM PEARCE'S VOICE🔥 THE LOW NOTE ON "BOUGHT YOUR SOUL FOR GOD" YUMM

9) The "I missed" on "I missed it 20 long years ago" was very harsh, as was "mouthful" in "mouthful of bread. LOOOVE thankyou Chris. "any other" in "treated me like any other" apparently was very gorgeous. I dont remember how but thats what I have written. Then i just wrote "Holy shit". He also was sobbing a little bit between "One word from him" and "offers me my freedom" which was lovely. Then i wrote "Chris ate jesus" so thats a high commendment

10) the bassline in At The End Of The Day is so delicious always

11) I kept seeing tom hext and harry lake in the ensemble (it was, uh, a bit thin  male ensemble-wise)

12) synth tones as usual heavenly I LOVE SYNTHESISERS!!!

13) the foreman was northern which was kind of funny #northrepresent

14) i think someone dropped somethijg offstage just before I Dreamed A Dream lmfao

15) Now i know that Fantine's wig cost £4000 i kind of appreciate it more. Doing my part

16) KATIE'S VOICE IS DIVIIIINE the low note she hits on "tear your hope apart" is ssoosooooooo goooode i get goosebumps bro

17) harry lake was the 2nd guy in lovely ladies though thought that was funny. He got his arse slapped on the "if you want to take all year" line . Giggled

18) javert big ass hat with the feather 😭😭😭😭😭

19) he was throwing some bitchy ass glances at the other policeman (who was harry lake. Btw) when fantine was begging whats his problem. His faces were so fun to watch hes so expressive. Hes also delightfully imposing and, as i wrote, "he's kinda fat LOVE"

20)  not very homoerotic at the cart although they did get dangerously close on "brand upon his skin".

21) i loved Jordan's performance honestly, he was very curt and harsh in his lines. Makes you want to cower away when he speaks

22) i cant remember when, but Chris spat a lil during Who Am I ans i wrote "spittin a bit there Chris. Hit that shit"

23) Katie was so wonderfully and convincingly weak for Come To Me ouuhhh my heart

24) I liked the little detail of Valjean looking over his shoulder a lot when he was with Fantine... ughhhghhhhhh

25) THE LOW NOTE JORDAN HIT 🤤🤤🤤🤤 different chainn

26) good strangle. Didnt fuck it up! He was stood up rather than knelt or laid like javert usually is but thats probably a Jordan thing since ive seen Stewart thebother times. He stood up quite fast rather than writing around a bit like stewart does and thenWIPED HIS MOUTH cool whagever. Then valjean kneed him in the balls at the tousle at the end lmfao

27) TOMMMM😍😍😍 i love his thenardier withbhis gruff voice lol. He did a little shimmy on "content to be" looove. I love his gay little dance he does with his pointed toes. And he flashed the gentleman guest at the start. As usual he does the bisexual thing. He flashes everyone again after mme thenardier's "whats happened since" someones gotta stop him bro

28) chris was so gentle with cosette i could cry .

29) tom hext thenardier does this thing where he's asleep when valjean comes in until he says "pay" at which he wakes up with a snort. Love

30) cosette runs to valjean  when he starts reassuring her when the thenardiers are trying to get him to spend more money snd it warmed my heart

31) tom squeaking "monsieur" in "one of our own monsieur" tickled me hes so funny. Also the jazz hands after "christians must do". I did keep getting blinded by his shiny shoe buckles though

32) chris was delightfully harsh on "too long to Forget" get his ass valjean

33) THE HUG AFTERWARDS WAS SOOOOO CUTE VALJEAN WAS CLEARLY SO TOUCHED UGGHHH IT WAS SO LOVELY I LOVETHAT SCENE SO MUCH

34) LOVE YOU HARRIUS his face when he sees cosette is so nice hes so good bruh

35) JAVERT IS HUUGE ITS CRAZZYZYYYYY especially  in that coat and the hat ohmt god dude

36) when thenardier pipes up after valjean runs off from javert he steps forward and gets choked a little itwas great. The way he goes up to javert to lean on him and the slide on his voice on "told you so" as well when he walks backwards lmfaoaoooo

37) stars was GORGEOUS . I mainly made very messy notes on Jordan's inflections during the song because i like the different delivery choices.... "face to face" was quite soft which i liked. The quick slide on "fall in flames" was delish.. hissed "scarce" and "silent" on "silent and sure". HOLY SHIT also his expressions, so good. Stewart is largely kind of deadpan just with a furrowed brow but jordan's face is all over the place its delightful. Also "bars" in "safe behind bars" was SO powerful and low ohhhhh his voice bruh. Bloody hell

38) marius' blank ass stupid ass smile when he offers the money to eponine its so fucking funny

39) i think the foreman is rhe ssame guy as grantaire but i do Not know. He did a silly giggle after "some wine and say what's going on" which i liked

40) i wrote "marius is so [see below image]" which lke ueah he was. Nothing behind his eyes at all. Love you harrius

41) i absolutely LOVE djavan as enjolras hes very engaging and shit i LOVE him . Dont even care about les amis that much but djavan is great at getting me to gaf about enjolras i cant lie. Hes so good

42) i wrote "harmonies. I came" do you hear the people sing getting me good as always

43) cosette was still shaky im so sorry girl i dont like her voice very much😭 great voice very talented her vibrato is just all over im so sorry

44) shamefully, i had to write "cosette your dad fit as fuck"  when he appeared for heart full of love lmfao

45) he was quite harsh on "better unsaid" ..😔 contrasted the otherwise gentle deljveries for the rest kf the show

46) marius looks constantly, like, aghast and bewildered and stunned by the fact that cosette is looking at him and i loved that. Bless him. Love you harry

47) babet always cracks me up whats his deal. Also in attack on rue plumet there was a guitar riff after "why's she hanging about you" giggled

48) felt a bit 4th wall-y when valjean was saying his plan to escape idk. Hello vro❤

49) enjolras' bit in one day more will always fuck. I got goosebumps so bad when he came in bruhhhh. FUUUUUUCCCCKKK I LOVE ONE DAY MORE

ACT 2

50) not much exr chemistry  surprisingly. Tom hext clearly doing the heavy lifting for the enjoltaire fandom

51) AMENA I LOVEYOUUUUUUU GOD HER VOICE IS SO GORGEOUS I LOVE HEERRRRRR goosebumbppsss

52) never getting over the barricade reveal . As a techie the lighting makes me geek the fuck out bro. Id say it gave me a boner but would that be going too far. Anyway the lights were bright and i could finally see clearly what i was writing for a bit lol

53) i wrote "byron for army general 2025 i dont know why because my voice is nowhere as good as that. I am the biggest fan of those bits though its so catchy i love it. They really went harsh on the Guns or DIE!!!!!! looove

54) the only one taller than javert is enjolras and i find this hilarious

55) JAVERT WITH THE DARK RED RIBBON IN HIS HAIR i said "dorothycore" later in the evening. Also his sideeye to gavroche when he was being ratted out was funny

56) HARRY SO GENTLE IN FALL OF RAIN OHHMY GOD DUDE THEIR DUET WAS SO TENDER AND HIS FACE OF DISBELIEF AND SHOCK WHEN EPONINE DIES WAS SO HEARTBREAKING FUCCKKKKK

57) "javert slutty red waistcoat" he had a deep red waistcoat to match his hair ribbon. Ir was kinda unbuttoned off his shoulder when he was dragged back out okayyyyyyyy

58) chris delightfully harsh when he says "give me the spy" yesssss bro yessss

59) NOT AS HOMOEROTIC AS ID LIKED BUT AGAIN  SCHOOLS MATINÉE TUESDAY REALLY SET THE BAR HIGH😭 valjean did grab javert lapels though and hold them until "i'm a man. Held out hope in my soul my psychic mind beams would cause them to kiss like my comic but alas! Also as usual javert very expressive. Yummm.

60) gavroche and grantaire's friendship for evarrrrr. Theyr so fire

61) chris was so lovelyand delightfully soft for bring him home HE ABSOLUTELY HIT THAT SHIT, IF I DIE... BROOO... i thimk i prefer milan still but chris absokutelt did NOT disappoint.

62) did not shit myself this time when gavroche died. Winning

63) djavan's voice as always insanely good its insane dude holee fuck hes so good brugh

64) when grantaire died he qas kinda hanging off the side in a really awkward spot and i think javert stood on him a lil when climbing down the barricade lol. On that note hes still so fucking big its crazy im obsessed. Also Again with the cross over gavroche's body though godbless

65) kind of looked like tom's mic wasnt on his head properly in the sewers but whatever thats just a techie nitpick of mine. He sounded great as usual though no problems just looked a bit odd lol. He kicks marius on "stiffs at my feet" poor guy

66) javert raised his brows and bulged his eyes on "i wont be swayed" i just had to note that because of how good it was. His expressions seriously so enchanting

67) the heavy breathing and kinda growling before soliloquy dude ohhmy gourd. Hell yes brother. His hair was so good too his wig is slightly curly and its like all over his shoulders and shit whenever he brought his chin back it kind of cowled his face and it was delectable . His EYES .............. as a bulging eyes javert truther it was sso good. Great inflection on "i am the law", "valjean", "dominion", "insTEAD"..... soft on "gave me my life" which i LOVED, as well as delivering "heart of stone" in such a deeply sad tone which was so good bro ohhmy god. "Killed me" was very harsh LOVE! he absolutely GROWLED "world of jean valjean" hellooooooooo bruhhh

68) HARRY LAKE WHEN I GET YOU HARRY LAKE. the low notes on "tomorrow never came" get outtttt. "Theres a grief that cant be spoken" whole line got my heart torn apart . He deliverwd it SO emotionally it got me screaminf crying. Also he was kind of harsh on "don't ask me" which i LOOOVED.

69) dont really know how to describe it but chris' valjean i liked himmmm he felt like ? Quite .. mature ? Well duh cause hes like old ass man . He played it wonderfully anguished as he was confessing to marius, got more anguished as he went on until the "who am i" ouuughhhhhhh . He was delightfully desperate and frantic when he was asking marius to keep the secret too, shaking his shoulders a little and all bro ohhhmy

70) HARRY SO HANDSOME IN HIS SUIT 😊😊😊😊🥰 HIS SMILE ALSO i might be a little bit in love with him but what evarrrr lol

71) THE THENARDIERS AS ALWAYS DELIGHTFUL stole the show. Tom's spin when he gets punched by marius omg so good . GAY ASS DANCING .... plus return of the funny little toe dance he does in master of the house. He did a little pose on "paris at my feet" which i loved. The pose:

72) chris' frail voice OUCH. so gentle. He was like muttering into cosette's hair when she kneeled in front of him i was going craaaaaazzzzyyyyyyyyy bro kmsss. The way he delivered the "i will try" was so fucking heartwrenching cause he sounded so earnest and final  and like the smile he gave her ohmy god i was tweaking so bad HRURRYUYYGGGHHHHHH he whuspered "its a story" as he handed her the book. Suicide tomorrow gang⁉️

73) nearly cried i cant lie. NEARLY. i didnt but nearly. Goosebumps on that final note ugh OUGH eugghhh. Anyway yeah final  verdict this cast fucked amen 🌈🌈 harrius and tomardier on top

[your-local-hoemie]

Hi! Can i request childe and zhongli (seperate) coming home to his beloved overworked and slumped over her desk?

Omg I get to write geo papi :D watch me work my brain juices for ya!

Warnings: fluffffff, a tiny bit of angst in childes if you squint again because I can’t help myself, Concerned boys, not proof-read, established relationships, gn! Reader (I know you said “her” in the request but I wanna keep it gn for everyone’s enjoyment if that’s ok aaaaaa.)

Characters: Childe, Zhongli

No I didn’t get carried away hahaha….hah

···

Childe~

He doesn’t understand at first lmfao

Mans constantly working so like? Isn’t this normal??

Honestly you might be helping him stop for a bit too

Gets very concerned :(

Might think you’ve died for a split second

Once he realised you’re fine he’ll make sure you’re moved to a comfier place like the bed or couch

Try to protest. I dare you.

He’ll probably arrange for one of his subordinates to complete any work you had left just to make sure you can rest

I also dare anyone to protest against a harbinger for finishing your work :)

You had been assigned a bunch of documents from Yanfei to go over after being transferred to her for extra work experience in Liyue before officially graduating.

At first your couldn’t be more optimistic about the workload telling yourself that it’s all worth it in the long run after years of studying law!

That lasted maybe a good four days before the lack of sleep and neglect to eat and drink properly started kicking in.

Raising your head you looked up from the paperwork checking the time. 4:30am. Groaning you raked your fingers through your hair, dragging them down your face trying to keep yourself grounded.

But much to your dismay no matter how hard you tried to keep your eyes open and your head free of fatigue, your body decided to finally take charge and before you can even protest, your head lowered to the table as your heavy eyes finally closed and took the rest they needed.

Meanwhile your beloved boyfriend, childe. Eleventh of the fatui harbingers, had finally got home after endless hours of his own work as a “toy maker”. He never told you about his true occupation, always worried it would put you in harms way or make you scared of him.

Opening the door to your house, making his way up to your bedroom he didn’t actually expect to see you awake being so early in the morning so when he saw the bed untouched and you nowhere in sight he’d be lying if he didn’t feel a twinge of dread run down his spine.

“Babe? Where are you?”

Picking up his pace he’d hurry around the house opening each door, his bow appearing in his hand from anxiety.

Reaching the finally room of your home he swung the door open only to find you slumped over your desk surrounded by paperwork.

Almost running over to your side he dropped to his knee’s placing his hand on your back almost like you’d break under his touch he softly shook you taking comfort in feeling your soft, deep breaths under his touch.

“Hmm? Childe?”

Raising your head groggily you look at your boyfriend for a moment trying to piece together the situation while rubbing your still heavy, sleepy eyes.

“Archons Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack! Why aren’t you asleep In bed!?”

Giggling sleepily you tried your best to explain the situation all while still feeling the heavy pull of sleep in your body not noticing the soft, if not concerned smile appearing across his face.

Letting out a sigh he gathered you in his arms lifting you up with ease, he carried you to the bedroom placing you down on the bed before pulling you tightly into his arms kissing your forehead.

“No more work for you love”

You were pretty confused to later find out you somehow still managed to finish all the paperwork before passing out even though you swore there was still a pile to go through~

Zhongli~

Oh he already knew.

You thought you were slick? You fool.

From the moment he laid eyes on the workload given to you all the way to your first yawn

He knew

He’d try to make it easier on you, knowing your stubbornness

Brings you fruit and tea every so often

Don’t be surprised if you get a nice back massage too~

Once he thinks it’s gone on for far too long he will take action and there won’t be a damn thing you can do

He’s a ex god. Come on.

If he thinks you should rest then you’re gonna rest

To bed with you

Lots of cuddles and head pats! Maybe even humming if he thinks it’ll help you relax

He won’t do your work for you, he doesn’t have the heart to risk ruining your hard work but he will help you if you seem like you’re struggling!

Much to no one’s surprise, Hu Tao had ever so kindly managed to gather a ever increasing collection of complaints from the citizens of Liyue from her persistent shenanigans that you’d be hard pushed not to find at least a little disturbing, leaving you to deal with the mountain on papers to sort through.

The moment zhongli caught wind of what had been keeping you so occupied from your routine walk through the harbour he was irritated to say the least.

After having a word with Hu Tao that was borderline passive aggressive he immediately stopped by the market picking up the best fruit he could find (much to Childe’s dismay) along with your favourite snacks.

Meanwhile you had enclosed yourself in your office, pondering your life choices while using all the strength you had to stay focused.

How long has it been since you started? When was the last time you ate? Questions hardly noticeable floated around the back of your mind as you intently ignored the pangs in your stomach and the worsening migraine growing across your head.

Letting out a frustrated sigh you finish reading a particularly rude letter sent in only to turn the page over by chance just to see that the paragraphs contained on the other side.

Finally snapping under the stress you lay your head down in defeat on the desk, tears threatening to run from your eyes and soak the papers under your head as you feel your body take over and force you to close them at last.

It wasn’t too long before you woke up in a mild state of panic before noticing a plate of beautifully arranged fruit, a warm cup of tea sitting beside you and a blanket draped over your aching back.

“Ah, you have finally awoken. Forgive me dear but I couldn’t bring myself to wake you from your much needed slumber so I took the liberty to prepare you some food”

God I love writing his funky little words

“Zhongli? H-how long have you been there?? What time is it!?”

“Hush now. No need to get worked up over such trivial things, you still have plenty of time to continue your work but I must remind you that rest and recuperation is an essential part to such dealings”

With that you find him dragging a chair next to you. letting out a deep chuckle he turned you towards him gentle pushing your head down to his lap as his fingers stroked through strands of hair. (If you’re bald then just ignore this part💀)

“Rest for now my dear, I shall assist you in this mess when you have recovered”

Not daring to protest against his authoritative tone, you close your eyes feeling your body melt at his touch.

Maybe a little rest wouldn’t hurt after all~

Bruh writing in zhongli’s fancy words is so fun I feel so sophisticated *sticks pinkie out and sips tea*

[inferencesarchives]

Hello! I loved your other works about Dan Heng and would to request Dan Heng x male reader. Dan Heng slowly getting a crush on the reader, but he's never felt that before.

(Ah, man. He is just soooo pretty in the game and I like that he is free 4*)

Sampo & Dan Heng Crushing Headcanons

anonymous asked: Hi hello! may I request sampo and Dan heng crush headcannons? like how they would act and what they'd do when they have a crush on reader, like would they be in denial or smth like that! thank you if u took up my request, I hope you'll have a lovely day or night! ❤️

sampo & dan heng x male reader

summary: How would Sampo & Dan Heng act after they notice their feelings for you?

warnings: possibly ooc maybe idk also this is kinda short cuz i ran out of ideas lol sorry :,)

notices how he feels about you pretty quickly after he starts crushing on you.

tries to impress you as much as he possibly can. his brain just goes like "ooo hot man ooo must impress" (lmao)

you don't notice it but every time he hangs out with you his cheeks are slightly tinted pink.

tries to hang around you as much as he possibly can. just randomly pops up next to you whenever you're out and starts talking to you. (lol)

tries to flirt with you. fails because you think it's just him being him (you oblivious mf)

plans out and memorizes a whole ass speech to confess his feelings to you. also plans one of them romantic scenes from the movies to confess to you. im talking like roses spread around and candles lighting the whole area. also makes sure it's a place that nobody else knows about so that noone can bother you two while he tells you how he feels.

his confession to you is like one of those cheesy sappy romantic ones from the novels. he even offers you a rose after he's done speaking. (lmfao)

overall he tries to make you as happy as possible when he's crushing on you <33

HOO BOY. after he realizes how he feels about you he internally loses his shit.

takes him a while to notice that he feels that way about you but when he does finally notice he's like "o shit wait he's hot"

gets flustered a lot more around you and has a hard time looking you in the eye.

makes up excuses to spend more time with you. (march 7th notices this. she makes fun of him for it when you're not around.)

starts doing little things for you that he didn't before (ex. bringing you coffee, helping you with work/studies, stuff like that). you notice it eventually but decide not to comment on it.

you make him smile for the first time ever in his life ever. it's just a small smile but it's still enough to make you do a double take because TF??? HE SMILED???? AT YOUUUU??????

very shy about confessing to you because he's afraid of being rejected by you :(((

when he does finally decide to confess to you it's less of a romantic confession and more of a "pls be my boyfriend pls ily pls" (lmfao)

also his face is redder than a tomato the whole time while he's confessing lol. tries to hide it from you but fails miserably. (lmao)

overall a bit of a mess while he's crushing on you lololol

a/n: finally getting to my requests because it's summer break for me now and i decided to be productive todayyyyy also ngl the mr beast chocolate bars are pretty good like i was eating one while writing this and just,, MMMMM

thanks for stopping by!

wanna submit a request? view my requesting rules here.

taglist: @unicorn-wars-brainrot

wanna be tagged? let me know :]

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

Love for Duty’s Sake Part 5

AN: Hello loves! Wow when I tell y’all I was FIGHTING in the editing room with this fic because I couldn’t tell if I should split this in half or not. I ended up just keeping it as one because I felt bad for ignoring democracy (sorry lyric) and posting Anything But Love P2 before I posted this one. A couple of fun facts about this fic because I literally have nowhere else to put them lmfao. In the convo with Griot, the reason Y/N’s argument works on him is because it follows a valid rule within arguments/logic called Hypothetical Syllogism. Basically, If A leads to B and B leads to C then you can correctly assume that A should also lead to C. Google it if you’re interested! Also, in writing Shuri’s interactions (esp the “in my wife's name” parts) it's like very heavily inspired by the way Dracula talks about Lisa Tepes in the Castlevania show!! 

Holy fuck don’t know how I could ever forget this. As always, any of my fake dating stuff is dedicated to the lovely @pinkwright. This is my writer bae y’all have no idea, L4DS and ABL posts are always made with them in mind. 

Summary: As the only daughter of Genelia, there were things you just had to do, and marrying the Queen of Wakanda was one of those things.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, violence, brief mentions of bad relationships with parents that’s it I think.

Word count: 6,213 (you see why I was thinking about splitting it up now??)

Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4.  Masterlist.  Taglist.

Suggested listening: Glock Six (Bonus) - 6LACK 

“No need to state the obvi', I be close to your heart I know you looking for real love I got my hand on my Glock, posted on the block I might just let off a shot, at anyone tryin' to kill her”

The feeling of your body sliding off of your wife and onto the hospital pillow below you was the first hint that something was off. You knew Shuri didn’t mean to be so rough with you, even if you hadn’t been injured. She just hopped off of the bed quicker than her mind could remember that you were laying back on her. Only when you grimaced slightly did Shuri think enough to look back at you. 

“Ndicela uxolo sthandwa sam (I’m sorry my love).” She muttered to you softly, scanning your body just long enough to ensure that you weren’t really hurt before turning her attention to Aneka. “When was this posted?” 

“Ten minutes ago.” 

Shuri took a deep inhale, rereading the post. “How did she even know about the shooting to post?” 

The question was impossible for Aneka to answer, knowing something like that wasn’t necessarily in her job description. You, however? You were used to political moves like this. “She knows because the shooting happened in her city Shuri.” 

“What?” Shuri turned to face you.

“I’m just saying, if something goes down in the Golden City, you’re made aware right? The same thing goes for DC. Especially on a day like today, foreign powers come into town. I’m sure she was all over it.” As you spoke, wheels started turning in your head, the scenario surrounding the events of your shooting. Everything was almost too perfect like it had been orchestrated. 

“Listen to what you just said Y/N, I’m notified when something happens in the Golden City, not you. So why would she be the one posting about this instead of the President?” Shuri’s tone was harsher than you would have liked, posing the question to you as if you were a child misunderstanding basic math. 

You sat up in your bed. “Because President Carter isn’t leading the show, Mallory is.” 

“Why would you say that?” 

“Because I know it’s true.” You folded your arms across your chest, starting to get annoyed at Shuri’s refusal to see what was clearly right in front of her. “Do you not trust me?” 

The question was loaded and the Queen’s response came instinctually, “The question is not if I trust you, we are married of course I trust you. But you make it increasingly harder to trust you when you put forth ideas like that.” Shuri mimicked your position, crossing her arms over herself. 

Her response stung and the look on your face made Shuri regret saying it immediately. “I did not mean-” 

You cut Shuri off, not wanting to hear what she had to say. “Nope. You said it. What do I know anyway? Not like I come from a family of politicians who would make this exact same move given the chance.” You turned your attention from where Shuri and Aneka stood back to the tv, effectively disengaging from the conversation. 

Warning signals were going off in Shuri’s head and she knew she fucked up. Taking one more look at the screen she made her way back over to your bed. Kneeling next to you and taking your hand in hers. “I am sorry, sthandwa sam. (my love) I didn't mean to brush off your idea like that.  Your attention still faced forward but the Queen could feel the race in your heart rate when her thumb traced over the lines of your knuckles. 

The silent treatment you were giving Shuri was frustrating her, if she had just slowed down as Okoye said, she would've thought about what she was saying before she said it. “I promise I will make it up to you-”

The buzz of Shuri’s kimoyo beads pulled her attention away from you and her apology. 

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

It was a message from Okoye letting her know that they had all made it back safely to Wakanda and that Liam Drockers was in the lower-level interrogation rooms. Aneka must’ve gotten a similar message from Ayo because when she made eye contact with Shuri, she gave her a knowing nod as she left the room. 

“I will make this up to you… when I am free again.” The end of the sentence tumbled slowly out of Shuri’s mouth, knowing it was going to garner a reaction from you. 

“What?” Instead of your voice sounding angry like the Queen had expected, it almost sounded more hurt or scared. This new tone pulled at Shuri’s heartstrings. “You’re leaving?” 

While yes, you were literally just ignoring Shuri ten seconds ago, you hadn’t expected her to just up and leave like that. Especially given how physically close you two had spent the last hour, part of you had grown attached to her in a way you never imagined possible. Addicted to the safe feeling that only seemed to come when you were in her arms. 

“I have some council business I have to take care of.” Her rubbing of your hands still hadn’t stopped, tracing every detail of your knuckles. 

You looked at her now, teeth biting at your bottom lip. “What do you have that’s so important?” 

“Just some time-sensitive stuff I need to handle. It should be quick, I don’t imagine it will be long.” Her eyes were averted, so you had no read on what possible clues they could be conveying. Something about this bothered you, normally she was so demanding of your eye contact and now she wasn’t even looking up. But you knew Shuri, whatever this was she wasn’t going to give up easily. You needed something to garner her attention first before you asked her what you needed to know. 

“I think I’m gonna call home.” Shuri’s eyes instantly flashed up to yours.

“Really?”

“I think so, I don’t want my family worrying about me, you know? I don’t want them thinking I’m dead or anything. Now that Mallory has so kindly let the world know about this.” 

Shuri hummed in response, debating asking the question at the forefront of her mind. “I thought- I mean, I didn’t know you had a way of contacting them.” 

This made you feel a little bit guilty since you had made it seem like you’d given Genelia up for good. “It's a direct line to my father's advisor, only for emergency purposes.” Your eyes flickered around her face. “I’ve never used it, I didn’t think I’d have to.” 

Shuri felt assured in hearing this, the slight worry that had slipped into her mind about you secretly planning to leave her dissipated. “Oh, okay.” She savored these last few minutes of her hand tracing yours, knowing that soon those same hands who held yours so delicately would be used in the complete opposite manner. 

“Shuri?” The way you called her name was soft, the same way you had in the restaurant before all of this had happened. It made her feel warm inside, lowering her guard just as you intended. 

Her response once again was just a hum, her eyes studying every detail of your face the way her hands did yours. 

“You wouldn’t lie to me right?” Your question caught her off guard but her rubbing never stopped. 

“Kakade hayi, sithandwa sam. (Of course, not my love)” Her eyes conveyed no sign of lying so you continued. 

“So it’s really council business that's so pressing you have to take care of it right now? Not anything to do with me?” You asked the question confidently, not taking your eyes off Shuri, searching for a tell. Anyone else would have missed it but you didn’t, the brief second when Shuri’s movements faltered. When her hand stopped rubbing yours. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

She stood up now, letting go of your hand. Being at eye level with you was too much right now, it felt too connected given the fact that she was literally lying to your face. “Yes, it’s council business like I told you before. Very time sensitive.” Before you could respond she spoke again. “Aneka!” 

The Dora appeared in the door frame with lightning speed, “Yes, ngangamsha (your majesty)?” 

“Guard Y/N’s side of the ward while I deal with this business, make sure no harm comes to her.” Shuri’s words were confident and her arms now crossed her chest signifying her demeanor change. 

“Shuri, I don't need a babysitter, I’m fine.” You protested. “Plus Aneka has yet to see Ayo, let them see each other.” 

“I am fine, my Queen. Thank you for your kindness but ensuring your safety is more important.” Aneka responded quickly, earning a nod of agreement from Shuri. 

Your wife looked down at her kimoyo beads. “I’ll be back in an hour, mfazi (wife).” Placing a kiss on your forehead, she looked down at you one more time before she left. “No trouble while I’m gone?” 

“I’ll try my hardest.” You replied as she walked out of the room, Aneka behind her taking her spot guarding your room. 

This left you alone with your thoughts and while a million things were running around your mind there were two prominent thoughts. One being, your wife was lying to you. 

You couldn't be a hundred percent sure about exactly what she was lying about but you knew it had something to do with you. While you wanted to snoop around and try and figure it out, the second of the thoughts found its way to the forefront of your mind. Having to call you family. 

Looking around you found your physical phone, the one that Shuri still referred to as ‘primitive technology’. Scrolling until you found the contact you didn’t think you’d ever have to press. Saying a prayer you pressed call and hoped for the best. 

The line rang only one time before the person picked up. “This isn’t some sick joke, you’re really calling me?” 

“Marcos, I told you I’d only call you in an emergency. I wouldn't play a joke like this.” 

You could hear him recite a prayer on the other end of the line. “Everyones worried sick about you Y/N, I mean your parents think you’re…” His voice trailed off and it made your heart hurt thinking about the stress this whole situation inadvertently caused your family. 

“I know, I know, that’s why I called. Can you just tell them that I’m alright? It’s nothing to worry about and I’ll be fine?” 

Marcos contemplated your words, “Y/N, your father will kill me if he finds out I spoke to you without giving him the opportunity.” 

The sound of movement from the other end of the line had you concerned. “Marcos wait, you know I don’t want to speak to them.” It was a useless plea and you knew it. As much as Marcos cared about you like you were his own daughter and wished to protect you as such. At the end of the day, he worked for your father. 

“I’m sorry mon papillon (my butterfly)” The term of endearment did little to quell the feeling of betrayal as Marcos moved to give the phone to your father. 

“Whoever it is Marcos, tell them they will need to call later, I am grieving my daughter.” 

“It is about Y/N, sir.”

Your father looked between his advisor and the phone before picking it up. 

“Yes?” This was the first time you had heard your father's voice in years. It had become too painful to go back and watch old home videos from before Yara’s death so part of you wondered if you’d forgotten what he sounded like. But as soon as his deep voice bellowed through the phone, you remembered. 

“Dad? It’s me.” You were scared to speak the words at first, questioning how he would react. 

“Y/N, is that you? Oh my god! Josiah, get your mother from the chapel, our baby is alive!” The outcry from your father made your heart hurt, had he been that concerned?

“Dad-” You tried to speak but his rambling cut you off. 

“When we saw the news honey we were so worried about you, I thought you had died. But you didn’t! God brought you back!”

“Dad-”

 “He’s bringing you back home to us!” He ended his rejoicing when you finally spoke up. 

“Babba! What are you talking about?” Your pain medication must have been making you delirious and mishear things. 

“What do you mean Y/N, this is a sign! You were almost taken from Genelia, from us. We need to come together and give thanks that you’re still with us.” Your father's words were confusing you, why was he saying that you were taken from them as if they weren't the same ones to send you away? 

“I’m not coming home Dad, I was just calling to let everyone know I was okay-”

“Nonsense!” Your mother spoke now, you weren't aware when she arrived in the room. “You must come home, we miss you. This was a wake-up call, don’t you think?” 

You paused now and took a deep breath. What they were asking was encroaching on a boundary you had set the day you left Genelia. To never come back. “I just, I don’t think it’s a good idea guys.”

It was now your parent's turn to pause while they thought about what they could say to change your mind. But it wasn’t them that spoke, instead it was a different voice. One that clearly held the tonal characteristics of a man but was still slightly squeaky signifying they hadn’t fully finished maturing. 

“So you’re just never gonna come back? Is that it then?” If it wasn’t for your father's words earlier you wouldn’t have even been able to guess who it was. But of course, it was your little shadow who spoke up now. Josiah. 

“Siah-”

“No, you don’t get to call me that anymore. My sister, who loved me and didn’t just get up and abandon her family for a fancy new life in France, called me that. I don’t know who you are.” 

Josiah’s words cut through you like the sharpest blade known to man, cutting deeper than any slick comment from Shuri. Is that really what he thought happened? That you left your family behind to go chase your dreams in a foreign country? 

You didn’t care about your parents, quite frankly fuck them. Any emotional ties you felt towards them had long left you, so saying no to them while it was hard; it didn’t hurt. Saying no to Josiah though? Hearing the disappointment in his voice? He didn’t deserve this. To be caught in the crosshairs of the relationship between you and your parents. 

“Fine!” 

“Fine?” Your mother and father's voice asked in unison. 

“Fine, I will come back to Genelia to visit.” 

“Tomorrow?” Josiah’s voice questioned.

“Tomorrow? Siah I just got shot.” You tried to reason with your brother, and while you didn’t feel any of the effects of the shooting at this exact moment you still didn’t know if traveling so soon would be wise. Plus you still needed to explain this all to Shuri. 

“You’re married to the smartest woman in the world and live in the most technologically advanced country. I’m sure they can figure something out.” Josiah left no room for argument in his sentence. 

“Fine Siah, I will come to Genelia for a few days, flying in tomorrow. Happy?” You didn’t even understand why you were agreeing to this. 

“Not in the slightest, I have no idea who you are anymore. I did that for Mom and Dad.” 

That hurt more than Josiah knew. You tried to tell yourself that he didn’t mean it, but something in you couldn't believe it. 

“Okay well, I’ve got to go. I’ll um talk to Marcos about arrival times and everything.” You needed this phone call done, the gravity of what you had just agreed to started to weigh on you. 

“Parfait! We can’t wait to see you soon Y/N. We love you!” You could hear the smile in your father's voice and felt guilt not only that you didn’t feel the same happiness but that you couldn’t reciprocate his “I love you” truthfully.  

“Yeah I um, I’ll see you guys soon.” With that you ended the call, throwing your head back against the pillow. 

As you sat in silence you digested what had just happened.

1. You called Marcos, just to let him know that you were alive. 

2. You ended up on a phone call with your parents, speaking to them for the first time in years. 

3. After declining to come to Genelia, you were guilt-tripped into returning by your little brother. Not because he wanted to see you but because he knew his parents wanted to.

All of this made your head reel and you longed for the peace and comfort that your wife provided. But she wasn’t here with you, her wife who had just been shot. Instead, she was dealing with council business.

“Griot.” 

“Ah your majesty, I am glad you are in good health again. What can I do for you?” 

You paused wondering if Griot was even able to give you this information. “Where is Shuri right now?” 

“Shuri has programmed me to not disclose her location to anyone unless it is an emergency, I am sorry your majesty.” 

Of course Shuri had done so, always wanting to keep tabs on everyone but not thinking anyone else needed to keep them on her. You wanted to give up before an idea popped into your head. “Griot, Shuri programmed me into your system as a Queen, correct?” 

“Yes your majesty, she has programmed you with the same clearance as she has.” 

Jackpot. 

“And Shuri has access to her location status I would assume?” 

“Yes, your majesty.” 

“Great, so she has access to her location status, and I have the same clearance level as her/  You can give me her location.” Your reasoning was solid, creating a logical path that the AI could follow. 

“Yes, your majesty, that does appear to be correct. One moment please.”Success. “Queen Shuri is in the basement, interrogation room one.” 

“Interrogation room one?” You asked Griot again, you didn’t even know the palace had a single interrogation room, let alone multiple. 

“Yes, the Queen has been in that room since she left you in the hospital wing.” 

So she had been lying to you. 

“Thank you, Griot, that will be all.” 

There was no doubt in your mind that this had something to do with your shooting and that Shuri thought she was doing good by you by keeping you away from all of it. Trying to shield you from more pain. But that wasn’t what you asked for, it was what she decided you needed. 

You touched your abdomen, trying to gauge your pain level. As Josiah had said, you were in the most technologically advanced country so truly your recovery wouldn’t take more than a few days. Right now, you felt good enough to hobble out of bed and make it out of your room. 

Shuri wanted to lie to you? Fine. But you were going to go down to the basement to figure out exactly what she was up to.  

You made it no more than five feet out of your room before a body in front of you haltered your progress. 

“What are you doing out of bed ngangamsha (your majesty)? You should be resting.” Aneka’s concerned look surprised you. While you knew it was her job to protect you, you saw a twinge of genuine concern in her eyes. 

“She lied to me Aneka.” You took a step to the side and then forward so she was no longer in your path. The dull twinge of pain let you know that this might be more difficult than your first few steps had made it appear, nonetheless you were going to make the journey. 

“Intoni? (What?)” 

“Shuri lied to me. She told me she had council business to take care of, but she didn’t. She’s downstairs in the basement right now. So I’m going down there to see what could be so important that she felt the need to lie to me.” You continued your walk towards the elevator pleasantly surprised that Aneka didn’t appear to try and stop you. 

You took a few more steps before suddenly something pressed against the back of both of your knees, causing you to lose your balance. Falling back right into… a chair? Aneka stood above you, her hands on the handle of the wheelchair that she had just gently gotten you into. “I am not condoning you doing this, however, I know I can not stop you.” 

You nodded, grateful to hear that. 

“But,” Of course there was something. “I will not let you rip your stitches hobbling down there.” 

A smile passed across your face and a similar one came to Ankea’s. 

“Plus, I can talk to you while we make our way down there. I should fill you in, it is for the best.” Aneka pushed you forward as she began to explain just who was awaiting you in the basement. 

While you two made your way down, Shuri, Ayo, Okoye, and your assailant were deep into their interrogation session. 

To Shuri’s credit, she tried to be diplomatic about the whole situation. When she first walked into the room and saw Liam Drockers sitting down with Ayo and Okoye on either side of him, she imagined what her brother would say to her. 

“Patience sisi.” He would say. “Regardless of what he has done, he is deserving of a fair questioning, the same as you and me.” 

And she tried to take T’Challa’s advice, asking Liam simple questions at first.

“Are you an employee of Judas’s Ice Cream shop?” 

No response.

“Are you working for the United States government?” 

No response. 

“Were you aware the person you shot was the Queen of Wakanda, Y/N Y/L/N Udaku?”

A small smile creeped up on Liam’s face after she finished speaking, but still, he said nothing. This infuriated her and she was about ready to cast this whole morally right thing to the side and get the information she needed through more direct means. 

But then her mother's voice came into her head. “Do not let him remove you from yourself intomba (daughter).”

The Queen calmed herself, “I asked you a question. Were you aware the person you shot was  Y/N Y/L/N Udaku, the Queen of Wakanda?” 

While Liam's eyes had largely remained on the floor he pulled them up to her now, showing off the bored look they held. “I didn’t miss, did I?” 

Shuri’s heartbeat increased, so he knew what he was doing. This was a planned attack on her wife? He knew who she was and still chose to take the shot?

“You still thinkin’ bout showin this fool mercy?” No. That was the one voice she didn’t want to listen to. 

Okoye saw the look and Shuri’s eyes and when their gaze finally met, a wave of concern washed over her. She was losing Shuri to this. 

Okoye’s suggestion for a break is what brought them outside, Shuri pacing up and down the hallway trying to decide how to move forward. 

“Is it really that hard of a decision little cuz?” 

“Shut up.” She spoke out loud. Ayo looked over to Okoye wondering if they should step in but Okoye shook her head, hoping that whoever Shuri was speaking to would provide the young girl some clarity. 

“I’m just saying what you’re really thinking here. I mean he shot ya wife, you really cool with letting that slide?” 

“I am not ‘letting it slide’, I’m going about it the diplomatic way N’Jadaka. Something I know you know nothing about.”

Erik laughed at that “Aww shit little panther got some bite to her huh? But you’re right I don’t know shit about the diplomatic way, what I do know however is how to get results, quickly. It’s cool though, give this mother fucker the time and respect he didn’t give to your wife. I’m sure that’s smart.” 

His last comment drew Shuri over the edge. Done with the conversation and confident in her decision, she made her way back over to the door where Ayo and Okoye awaited her. She knew the decision she had come to was harsh but the only thing on her mind was ensuring your safety and getting to the bottom of this. 

“If you do not want to stay for the next part of the interrogation, I am not ordering either of you too. This is the time now to back out of this, without any blood on your hands.” She thought for a moment about how literal her figure of speech was about to become. “Ngokunzulu (Seriously).” 

Okoye looked Shuri up and down. It was in moments like these that she no longer saw the young girl she had watched grow up over the past ten years. The youthful glow had faded over and now left Shuri with a hard exterior that seemed to be ever-present. “Are you sure this is what you want to do ikumkani wam (my queen)?” Okoye offered this out to Shuri now, one shot to think clearly about her decision.

“A hundred percent.” Was Shuri’s simple reply. 

That’s how they ended up here, Ayo holding Liam’s cuffed arms behind his back while Shuri issued blow after blow to his abdomen, turning him effectively into a human punching bag. 

“You done with the games now Liam?” A punch landed on his stomach. “Are you ready to say something and give me the information I need to know?” 

The whole ordeal hurt Okoye to watch but she understood why Shuri had shifted to such drastic means, it was only out of necessity. 

Liam gathered his breath as Shuri removed the jacket she’d been wearing, leaving her in a compression shirt. “No words Liam, really?” She cracked her knuckles and delivered two more blows, one after the other. “That’s okay I’m sure soon enough you will.” 

He shifted in Ayo’s arms for a few seconds for spitting the blood that had pooled in his mouth down at Shuris feet, giving her a defiant stare. 

A smirk rose to Shuri’s face as she looked at the few drops of blood that had gotten on her sneakers. “You know Liam, I had been holding back in the name of my wife. I’ll tell you a secret since, quite frankly, the likelihood of you making it out of Wakanda to repeat this is slim to none. I don’t know much about my wife, we do not have the most conventional marriage so the real things I can say I know about her are few and far in between. But what I do know about my lovely Y/N, she hates violence and views it as the very last play in the book. Convinced me not to kill a spider once just because she said it wasn’t necessary.” 

Shuri smiled at the silly memory of you cussing her out at home when she tried to kill a spider instead of releasing it outside. 

“So, in her name, I haven't been using any of my enhanced strength. This,” She points to the purple bruises that had started to form on the skin of his stomach. “It's all me. But, since you want to be disrespectful and spit blood on my shoes, we’re giving all that up.” Quicker than anyone in the room could have seen, Shuri put her hands up and delivered a devastatingly strong blow to his stomach. Providing enough force that even Ayo had to take a step back to steady herself and absorb some of the shock of the blow. 

You watched in horror from the other side of the glass in the interrogation room as Liam doubled over in pain, gasping for air. Aneka and yourself had been in the room just long enough to watch him spit blood on your wife's shoes. 

“Now, we’re going to try this again.” Shuri started with the same line of questions from before. “Are you working for the United States government?” 

Once Liam pulled himself together, he gave the Queen no answer, just continuing his stare of contempt. 

Shuri chuckled, “Again then? Okay.” She let out another punch, Ayo being more prepared this time held Liam’s body tight. 

“She’s gonna kill him Aneka.” You spoke quietly from the wheelchair as you watched the whole ordeal take place. “We can’t let her kill him, that’s not her.” 

Aneka nodded, “But there is nothing we can do right now my Queen. Ayo and Okoye are in there with her, they will not let it go too far.” 

“I need to get in there.” Shuri wasn’t going to listen to Ayo or Okoye, you didn’t even know if she was going to listen to you. But as far as you were concerned this had already gone far enough. You started moving your wheelchair towards the door but Aneka stopped you. 

“Your majesty I cannot let you in there, bringing you down here was a breach of protocol enough. To have you in there would just be a blatant disregard for the Queen’s wishes.” Aneka declared. 

Both of your attention was brought back to Shuri and Liam when she hit him in the same spot again, leading him to cough up more blood. 

“You go in there and bring my wife out to me or I go in there and bring her out myself. Two choices, you pick.” You folded your arms like a child, waiting for Aneka’s response. 

She looked into the interrogation room and back to you. “Bast you two are perfect for each other. Stubborn just alike.” 

With that she left you, walking out and knocking before entering the other room. 

“ikumkani wam,” She interjected, pulling Shuri’s attention from the man and onto the Dora. 

“What is it Aneka, I am busy.” Shuri looked at her impatiently. 

“uY/n ulapha kwaye angathanda ukuthetha nawe (Y/N is here and would like to talk to you).” Aneka switched to their mother tongue so Liam couldn’t understand what they were saying. 

Shuri’s face faltered for a second. You were here? How long had you been watching? How much had you seen? “I am in the middle of an inter-” 

The sound of you banging on the wall to indicate you didn’t care what she was doing cut Shuri off. She looked at Liam before speaking to Ayo and Okoye. “Put him down, I will be back shortly.” In a second Shuri was out of the room and opening the door to the other side of the interrogation room, meeting your icy gaze. 

“What are you doing out of bed sithandwa sam (my love)?” Shuri’s concern was real, raking her eyes over your body. 

“You lied to me.” You weren't wasting time tip-toeing around the subject, 

“I was protecting you.” Shuri’s justification came quickly, as she took a step closer to you. The light illuminated her face better now and you were able to see the small spots of blood that had splattered on her face. 

Against your better judgment, you called her closer to you “Come here.” She obliged kneeling so you two were at eye level, mimicking the position you two had been in this morning. You reached to hold her face in your hand, wiping the small dots of blood away with your thumb. “You lied to me,” You said again looking into her eyes. 

“I was trying to-” Shuri tried again to explain this to you but you cut her off with a gentle tap to her lips with your free hand. 

“I know you were trying to protect me Shuri, but I am your wife. You can’t lie to me.” The look in your eyes conveyed the seriousness of your comments. 

The excuses started to form in Shuri’s mouth but she stopped them. “I- I know and I’m sorry. I should have told you what I was doing.” She let her head rest in your hand and averted her eyes down, fiddling with the material from your hospital gown. 

“Yes, you should have.” While your words were harsh, the tone and way you caressed her face let her know you weren't really mad with her. 

“Let me make this right umfazi (wife).” Shuri declared sitting up so she looked you in the eyes once again. “The man, his name is Liam Drockers he-” 

“I already know Shuri.” You smiled at your wife who looked at you cluelessly. “Aneka filled me in on our way down here, I know everything. I want to speak with him.” 

Shuri pulled out of your grasp now, appalled you would even ask something like that. “Absolutely not Y/N, there is no logical reason to risk your life by putting you in there with him.”

“First there is no risk to my life, not only is he handcuffed but Ayo and Okoye will be in there with us. Second Shuri, you owe me. This has everything to do with me and you tried to keep it from me, I deserve at least one chance to speak with him. Alone.” You were confident in your rebuttal, Shuri tried to find a counterargument for every point you made but she couldn't. 

“Five minutes with Okoye, Ayo, and Aneka inside with you.” Shuri brought her demands to the table and you thought about it for a second. Was she seriously that worried for your safety that she thought you needed three Dora’s in there with you and a restrained and beaten man? 

“Deal.” 

With that Shuri wheeled you out of the viewing area and to the interrogation room. Aneka held the door open and your wife pushed you through the entryway, stopping at the frame per your request. 

“Oh yeah and pack a bag, we’re going to Genelia tomorrow.” You shut the door leaving your very confused wife on the other side. You two were going where? 

In front of you sat a very bruised Liam Drockers, Ayo, and Okoye on his sides You always found it so funny how no matter how big or bad someone seemed, at the end of the day they were made of flesh and bones just like you. 

Wheeling up to the table you sat and stared at your attacker for a moment. Trying to search for something you were never going to find, a reason or justification. 

“Alright, Liam I’m going to make this very easy for you.” You interlaced your fingers and let them sit on the table, this is where you shined. “In the other room, my wife is waiting with bated breath for me to tell her it's okay to come in here and continue to beat the living shit out of you. Now me personally, as you heard before, I’m not a fan of violence. I think it's an unnecessary evil of the world, something we really can function without.” You paused letting out a chuckle. “Not that I think that you believe the same,” You gestured down to your stomach. “You clearly favor my wife when it comes to that way of thinking.” 

Liam's eyes moved all over you, attempting to size you up as a threat. 

“So, now that you know that much about me, let me tell you how this is going to work. Either A. we can make this super simple, you answer every question I have and agree to the plan we have in place. Or, I call my wife back in here and she beats you to a pulp.” 

A wheezing breath came from your attacker and you couldn’t help but notice how weak he looked now, the beating from Shuri having done a good chunk of damage. “I’m not sayin shit, I know my rights.”

You smiled at this, leaning closer to him. “Your rights? You think your rights will protect you here?” The look on Liam’s face changed for a split second, his facade slipping. “You’re in the basement interrogation room of the most technologically advanced country in the world because you shot one of their Queens. You were flown in on a top-secret jet, there's no record of you ever even being in Wakanda. Nobody knows you’re here.” 

“That’s- that’s not true.” Liam stammered out. “There are people out there who know who I am, who are looking for me.” 

This got the heartiest laugh from you yet. “Mallory? Really? You think she’d save you?” The idea he was pushing was almost comical. “You were a gun for hire, you served your purpose and now there's nothing left for you to do, you were disposable from the beginning. Do you seriously believe she’d risk a national incident to save one measly hit man?” 

The truthfulness of your words hit Liam like a ton of bricks, there was no getting out of this. 

“So,” You began. “I’ll ask the question my wife has been trying to ask. What the fuck was your mission and who do you report to.” 

Liam shifted in his chair, looking around the room as he assessed his situation. “It all started with Mallory.” 

Taglist:  @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal @shurisbigtoe @saintwrld @pinkwright @chatitajens @playhousedistee @motheroffae @injeolmiee @tchhairbandhere @._mrqs @msudaku @lppriceisright @bratydoll @blackqueengold @iheartsolo @cafehyunji @abenomeiiii @naomis-daydream @ilroachsworld @locoforshuri @nrc-06

[isa-ghost]

Isa my darling! Happy Birthday, albeit a couple of days early.

Seeing you screech in Philza's streams because Apollo hit you with that dodgeball yet again makes me giggle a lot.

How about since headcanon's for qPhilza's past/pre island relationship with qFit. How they got to know each other, and how quickly they became friends?

Idr if I said this on Tumblr yet but deadass I asked Apollo on my pendulum if qPhil is his blorbo and he said yes. He's been as invested in shit as me and it's been hilarious. I literally have crows yelling at me irl to keep writing rn but I'm answering headcanons first.

The entire time I've been distracted between writing these, crows have been yelling at me about it. Which. Is how Apollo communicates with me when I'm not actively talking to him through readings LMFAO.

Also thank you for the birthday wish :D [desperately hoping nothing else horrible happens this weekend please god]

Anyway qPhil headcanons masterlist let's go

Disclaimer that I didn't know of Fit before QSMP (I've only been in mcyt for 4 years monkaS) so these are gonna be largely pulled out of my ass and a lil repetitive.

These two both have experiences in anarchy and war, they've definitely brushed shoulders a couple times bc of it

They admired each other's work ofc. Phil is a macro scale kinda guy, total annihilation and victory that makes a statement. Fit's more of a micro scale kinda guy, zeroing in on one person or group individually and making their lives hell until the end in the name of surviving a little longer

On that note, I think we all sleep a little bit on the fact that Fit is Also a survivalist like Phil, just in a very different set of high stakes conditions. These two are equally skilled in it and equally sharp strategists

On that note, anyone who knew them from the past would fear the idea of them coming together to create a plan of any kind, especially of the anarchist-fueled variety. If the Federation has done their research right, they should know full well how terrifying this duo could be in an effort to dismantle their authority

Btw by brushing shoulders I don't just mean brief passings by, I mean they've like. Camped out for a night together, temporarily truced for the sake of safety in numbers, etc. More than a few conversations have been had even if the time they've spent together totals to less than a week.

However, even when they weren't actively paired together, they'd still occasionally trade or gift each other surplus resources. It was a genuine kind act, even if it simultaneously served as a reason for each of them to not come after the other. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.

Like why do you think Fit was one of the first threats on Phil's mind in Purgatory. He Knew(tm). And he knew Fit has an affinity for picking off the weak first, like a lion after a herd of antelope. To him, Purgatory was the awakening of a monster who'd been dormant for a long time.

See, present day they're QPR as fuck, they'd never do this now without 10x the pressure Purgatory put on them, but back in the day they took close notes on each other's strengths and weaknesses. Just In Case, yknow? They could very much kill each other. Back in the day they would've if it came to it, no matter how good an ally they were.

Something about how these two used to be so cold and hard to the world. Be it to self-preserve or some other reason. Something about how now they've both softened and warmed after becoming parents. They never could've imagined the other would "weaken" like this, especially back then.

Phil 🤝🏻 Fit - Phil being a historian of the deities/builds of his Hardcore World, Fit being a historian of 2B2T

A lot of this boils down to mutual respect, common interests, and secret admiration tbh. And what's more homoerotic than that?

They're both crisis preppers. Not doomsday type shit, just. Being ready for shit to hit the fan. They both come from places where life is significantly more dangerous than it is in other realms.

The crazy thing is though? Despite the above, they can't imagine being from each other's realms. Phil would LOATHE 2B2T and Fit would hate the absoluteness of Hardcore. Isolation is absolute, death is absolute. There's no wiggle room or margin for error.

With how adaptive the two of them are due to their origins, they could probably acclimate to any conditions. They'd complain about having to, especially if it was inconvenient, but they could. They used to swap tips & tricks with each other on how to improve their adaptability too.

Fit would've 100% been down to join Phil on Doomsday in DSMP. He was thoroughly impressed when Phil told him the story.

[celestie0]

hiiiiii ellieeeee! I stopped by to say thank you for kickoff! Def one of the best gojo fics I’ve read. I love the way you characterised all our boys, especially Gojo and Geto.

if you don’t mind me asking, do you have any personal headcanons/character background for kickoff geto?? He’s sooooo charming and I’d die for him 😭😭😭😭

AHHH thanks darling you’re so sweet <33 i’m so happy u enjoy kickoff :”) it is my pleasure to share my lil fic w you!!

omg yes i do have another ask in my inbox from an anon that also wanted kickoff geto headcanons and i’ve been saving it for when i can think of some 🤣 i’m planning on writing a spinoff series for him some day so i wanted to give it some serious thought aaa

i can share some notes i’ve thought of so far tho (very loose n subject to change):

1. kickoff geto n gojo have been friends since they’ve basically been in diapers, they know each others families very well n gojo’s mother dotes on him just as much as she dotes on gojo lol. he’s basically a second son to her haha

2. kickoff geto became interested in soccer when gojo’s dad took him n gojo to a pro soccer game once when they were kids (core memory bc they got to skip school to go lol). he wasn’t insanely infatuated w the sport like gojo was but he tagged along in practices n tryouts n stuff then realized he was pretty decent at it

3. lol this is kinda hyper specific to the spinoff series i had in mind, but i can imagine kickoff geto has a loooooot of younger siblings. like i’m talkin maybe he’s the eldest of like six or seven kids. it’s the reason why he’s kinda calm n collected n also pretty observant (i.e. when he told reader to be safe when he saw her going to meet kai) it’s also why he’s not all that alarmed by gojo’s idiocracy at times cuz he’s used to being around toddlers LOL ✋🏼😭 but yea all eldest siblings i know kind of have the personality i’ve given him w sorta the patience n softspoken but vigilant etc so this made sense to me. also he literally raises two kiddos in the show so i see it fitting HAHA

4. i have hc this before but he has almost exclusively dated only sorority girls, and he’s mostly only into sorority girls in general. idk he just finds he can relate to them more and their social circles, i can picture him being kinda exclusive w who he lets into his close group of friends as opposed to kickoff gojo who just wants to know everyone’s entire life history the second he meets them LMFAO but yea, i think my inspo for this hc came from the fact that canon geto only likes/respects sorcerers 💀 i don’t mean to say this as he shuns anyone that isn’t in greek life LOL i just think the ppl that he’d consider his close friends are those that he’s spent a lot of time getting to know at frat/sorority social events

5. he plays defense on the team!! and i think i did hc what his major is before but i forgot 😭…idk let’s just say he’s a psych major that makes sense to me 🤣

LOL damn i wrote a lot more than i thought i would sdfgkkhfd but hopefully this kinda gives more insight to his character!! i’ll def do some official headcanons for him some day :)

[journalsouppe]

I initially played ACNH for 300 hours in between release day - july of 2020, and never played the 2.0 update or the HHP dlc until recently! So I decided to make a second ACNH spread with the goals to: experience as much of the 2.0 update as possible, beat HHP, complete all the bugs and fish in the museum (I have the fossils done and I will finish art another time).

I had a ton of fun but this was the longest grind I've ever done. I still have nightmares waiting like 5 hours for that damn giraffe stag to spawn my fucking god. Super worth it though bc this was the first time catching all bugs and fish even though I've played CF and NL :}

The Lily of the Valley sticker is a freebie I got from MariKrekeler!

Writing typed below!

rating: 8.5 played: sp 2023 port: nintendo switch favorite? Y replayable? Y recommend? Y series: animal crossing

comments:

Dagnel (YT) inspired me to pick the game back up

I look so cute in my work uniform >.<

the hopeful goal is to finish bugs, fish, and flowers

forcing the villagers on vacation to work and go to school is wild T^T

I love the evolution of adding new items like partitions and nature sounds

I didn't expect to do check-ups

OMG IT'S BAMS BDAY WHEN I PLAY AGAIN AND JULIAN IS HERE (my two faves)

decorating all the buildings does get tiring

i really love the venue decor

Bam gave me the pumpkin soup recipe while wearing my fruits basket sweater T^T!!!!!!!!!!

i can only play in short bursts as it's not as fun when playing alone and it's so grindy and long

an apparel shop is a really fun idea

kk concert goes pretty hard

IT TOOK FIVE FUCKING HOURS TO CATCH THE GIRAFFE STAG T^T

i haven't played aa4 yet but klavier reminds me of Julian esp bc julian was also in a band and had a falling out with a band member (ive played aa4 since then and can confirm theyre the exact same person lmfao)

8 FUCKING HOURS FOR THE MAHI MAHI

okay the rest of the writing is my checklist of bugs and fish i needed to catch and ... yall im not typing that who cares about that anyways T_T

Summary

This was brutal. I curse the name of giraffe stags, mahi-mahis, and Dagnel. I had a lot of fun with HHP and I'm happy to be done with 3/4 of the museum, but my god at what cost? I wish my 2020 self did like a small grind to get these pier fish because why the hell did it take me 8 hours for the mahi-mahi T^T. Enough complaining, I highly enjoyed happy home paradise. I never played HHD for ACNL so this was a fun surprise and I loved the range of homes you could design. I also loved how there were overarching goals to complete: school, cafe, restaurant, hospital, clothing store, and when those were all done you were treated to a KK rave. I also enjoyed seeing my favorite villagers again and getting to play in seasons I hadn't previously played in ACNH. I have mixed feelings about Harv's island. I like that a ton of characters are brought back but I think some of them could've been integrated on the onto the main island better, like reese and cyrus having an add on to nook's shop and also give us another nook shop upgrade T^T. I miss playing with friends but it seems I might be making plans to play with Grimspark! Perhaps in the future I'll pick up this game again to finish art and flowers but that'll be in 2024 me problem. Tired of grinding T^T.

[malleleothreesome]

Update on my 12 Days of TWSTmas Prompt Request Event

Hey everyone! I'm gonna try to keep this short cause I feel like I talk too much and it makes my posts unreadable lol

TLDR: I will continue to fulfill your requests throughout the year.

The past 12 days, I have written over 20,000 words (12,000 of which got posted) across 4 different WIPs and 2 posted fics. I really wish I could have posted more, but I am a perfectionist, and I also put my blood, sweat, and tears into each and every thing I post. Even if you sent me only 3 words for your request, chances are, thats gonna be 4k words from me. If you sent me a sentence with some backstory, thats probably another 4k words from me. That's just the type of writer I am—so I'm not efficient at pumping things out quickly, but I hope the quality of my work makes up for that fact! Hopefully, I can get these 4 WIPs out for you guys this January, but I need to keep putting hours into them to get to a place where I'm happy with the story. I'm doing my best!

I have A LOT of requests in my inbox. A lot of amazing, well thought out, exciting requests that I want to keep working on. I want everyone who sent me a request ask to know how much it means to me that you are interested in my work and took the time to send me your ideas.

My number one goal of this year is to keep writing. Writing fics the past few months has been the most fulfilling thing I've done in my 20s (and I'm 27 lmfao) so pretty much when I'm not in my 9 to 5, I want to be writing.

I still can't guarantee if I will get to your request (or when, considering how many hours I put in to each request) but I can promise that if I do get to your request, I will give it my all to bring your vision to life and create a story that was hopefully worth waiting for!

My ask box will always remain open for your ideas (related to or unrelated to the prompts I posted, I'll welcome anything!) as long as you understand I may not be able to fulfill your request. Most of the time, I can only work on things I'm really passionate about. So if you happen to send me something that really sparks my interest, I could very well get it out to you within a week hahaha, but it all depends.

[leonardcohenofficial]

20 questions for fic writers

i was tagged by @majorbaby to answer these—thank you so much!!!!!!!

i'll tag @draftdodgerag / @radioprune/ @sightofsea and anyone else who'd like to do this! answers below:

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? a grand total of five :D

2. What's your total Ao3 word count? 28,313 words!

3. What fandoms do you write for? currently have only published for mash, but i have fics for the man from uncle, star trek, star wars, doctor who, twin peaks, starsky and hutch, and black sails in drafts

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? i only have five fics on ao3 LOL

5. Do you respond to comments? i do my best to!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i suppose it's (open your hands) given it takes place before "bottoms up" which is fairly angsty in the overall houlifield arc

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? between the two longform fics i've posted—someone is waiting and so this is the word—they both have happy endings! i suppose whatever is happier depends on if you're more of a fan of piercintyre or hunnihawk endgame

8. Do you get hate on fics? i've never received any direct hate, so none that i'm aware of.................... 

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes; not usually plain pwp because i like having somewhat of a story tied to the smut but every once in a while it's less plot-driven

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? i have not written any crossovers nor do i particularly feel any want to

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? nope/not to my knowledge, hope to keep it that way!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no but would be honored and open to granting permission to do so!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? no, don't really have interest in doing so (LOL)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? legitimately such a hard question lol; there are some ships that i don't even think about actively shipping because in my mind i nearly forget that they're not canon (see: spirk, skysolo, albert/dale, illya and napoleon, etc.) whereas there are certain relationship dynamics that continue to make me feel like the top of my head is being torn off and i think always will (twelveclara is absolutely insanity inducing, vanerackham also being a ship that really took over my brain and has not let go since, honorable mention to whatever barisi did to my psyche as a seventeen year old); not to mention all the relationships from non-fandom (for lack of a better term) media that i find extraordinarily emotionally impactful (tommy and axel in edge of the city, omar and johnny in my beautiful laundrette, whatever is happening between hamlet ophelia and horatio, same with karen joe and martha in these three, could name plenty of books and films and plays that this happens to me with)

all of this to say, it probably is piercintyre (still with a lot of love for hunnihawk) or spirk

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? i have a few mash fic drafts that have been sitting in my notes app since literally 2019 so we will see if those ever see the light of day lmfao

16. What are your writing strengths? i think i'm very good at third person limited POV, which is how i write all of my fics (i don't like first person POV fics, despise omniscient, and find second person hardest to write); i also think that i'm pretty strong with narrative structure (comes with being a dramaturg lol) and internal dramaturgy and detail when it comes to researching for my writing

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i don't write linearly (this applies to my academic writing as well as fics) which i think does often make it harder on myself when piecing together a bunch of vignettes and trying to make them flow; i think that my understanding of narrative structure helps me get around this but i do wish i didn't always throw in an obstacle to my own writing. i also think i can be a bit too succinct (this is more a challenge with my academic writing than my fics imho but is a note that i get consistently from my committee haha)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? if the writer actually knows how to speak it and isn't just throwing text into google translate on a wing and a prayer, i don't always HATE it hate it; i've read a few good the man from uncle fics where if illya is speaking in ukranian or russian it's either mentioned in a character's POV or the text is put in italics which i think is a more effective device in communicating that the characters are speaking another language rather than the one the fic is written in

19. First fandom you wrote for? i wrote very bad doctor who and sherlock fanfiction when i was in middle school which i published on deviantart LMFAOOOOOOO

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? i think the honor has to go to someone is waiting—it was just such a labor of love and weaving in all of the sondheim references that have been so important to me with a longform exploration of hawkeye's takes on love was (as cheesy as it is to say) really special to me as a writer and it means so much that it resonated with so many people! (plus it has a very good soundtrack)

[mysterypond]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @hxhhasmysoul and @subdee

Going to do a hxh specific one here since that's what y'all are here for, then I'll do a more general one on 98

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

69- hxh

98-total

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 340,320 total

3. What fandoms do you write for?

HxH - 2021-2023

Ensemble stars - 2023

Everything else is just one-offs

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5) There Were Two Beds -killugon fluff

4) AITA for asking my fiancé not to sleep in dirt?  -hisoillu crack

3) Time x Goes x On -killugon fluff

2) From Me x To You - my killugon letters fic

1) Would Kira have gay sex? - with a whopping 15,103 kudos this fic blows everything else out of the water and contributes to more than 50% of any of my overall fic statistics except for word count. I call it Fics Georg. It is an outlier and should not be counted.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always. I appreciate the effort people put into commenting, so typically I try to respond with the same effort level as they put in.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Re x Do or Judgement x Day tbh

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uhhh From Me x To You is probably a good one,

8. Do you get hate on fic?

All the time lol. If you ever see comment moderation on one of my fics just assume something bad happened there.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes and no, I usually use nsfw fics on this account for nsfw humor or as a backdrop for introspection. I don't expect anyone to get off reading them but if you can, more power to ya.  

10. Do you write crossovers?

No

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep! Multiple times lmfao

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

@amagiis and I wrote this one :3 written in the moonlight and painted on the stars 

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

For hxh.... probably Paridling. @jyuanka has a chokehold on me for this ot3 xD if you want an introduction go read A History 

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Actually if y'all are curious I'll just drop two here

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1gY8AqF9L7O6vCunl-r5HLLZ6Vv6XF5u8F6aDzDmIWHo/edit?usp=sharing - Pre-canon Ging/Cheadle meeting

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QCG2tmuK2D_6skO261llt4H2ihisC9H2QpXPat2vd8c/edit?usp=sharing - this was going to be my hxhbb23 fic before I got nuked by irl stuff and then took an indefinite hiatus from writing hxh fic, I'm just like togashi lol maybe I'll finish this one in 4 years

16. What are your writing strengths?

Tbh I feel I'm skilled at most aspects of writing but the ones I would stay outshine the others are my wordplay and my dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Biting off more than I can chew. I seldom finish the multichapters I plan, which is why I usually wait until I finish writing it to post.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I do it all the time if applicable idc. I'm trilingual, and know bits and pieces of like another 4, I'll throw translations into the notes but I don't see why people get annoyed with it. There's plenty of fics on ao3 lol.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

pokémon... in like, 2007....

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Five x Star x Service  - pariging coffee shop au.

I usually only like "aus" (excluding canon divergence stuff, I typically enjoy that) if I write them xD

Anyhow, I tag.... the people I mentioned earlier lol @amagiis & @jyuanka and anyone else who wants to do this :3 y'all can @ me and say I tagged if u feel awkward about it

[here2bbtstrash]

your votes are in! part 2 survey results ✨

i asked, and y'all answered!!! 👀

as mentioned a few times before, the survey is not closed - i won't update it with new works moving forward, but i will keep an eye on it if anyone decides to run back and add votes! so please don't feel like it's too late, esp if you're new and still catching up on the porn (there is A LOT of porn. pls take your time and stay hydrated okay 😵‍💫)

but since it's been about a week, and new votes have slowed down, i thought it'd be fun to do a reveal of the top 10 results as things currently stand! sticking them below the cut - join me, won't you? 🍷

at #10, with 40 votes, we have... moving day! i was honestly surprised to see this one crack the top 10, but i should know better than to underestimate the yoongi hoes at this point. y'all love your delusional long-haired boyfie content, and who am i to deny you that??

at #9 (my lucky number 👀), with 42 votes, we have... it's sweet! shocked to see a fluff fic crack the top 10 honestly, but let's be real, the taehyung hoes are THIRSTY (anyone who follows jai already knows this 😂) - i promise i'll write more for y'all soon, and that the next one will actually feature smut!!!

at #8, with 43 votes, we have... park and ride! (and technically also its sequel, five minutes!) y'all really said give us a part three mother 😭 and jokes on you because i have an idea for a part three *and* a part four for these two. you'll never be free of them lmao!!

at #7, with 45 votes, we have... the spins! i'm happy to see this one here!! i love this couple and i've wanted to do a sequel for them for AGES, though i swear my idea for what i actually want to do changes every few months 😂 guess i gotta decide on one!!!

at #6, with 51 votes, we have... sunday! idk why i didn't expect this one to rank omg!! i don't feel like i write jin particularly well, and i especially thought that level of BDSM would be too much for some 🙈 but i have learned y'all are freaks who like crying during sex.... huh...... DULY NOTED 👀📝

halfway there, time for the big hitters! at #5, with 54 votes, we have... party on you! ahhhhh this one makes me happy to see 🥲 forever AMAZED and ECSTATIC that my most popular fic on this blog is a hoseok fic!!! i want to write a million billion more hobi things this year, and i will certainly see what i can do about circling back to these two cuties. at the very least there shall be more ass-eating in 2023!! 🎉🍑

at #4, with 58 votes, we have... deep end! joon hoes with TWO appearances on the board, we love to see it 👏 i loooove that y'all are down not only for period smut, but for some of the risks i took with using more flowery/poetic language in this one! i had so much fun trying something new, i'd love to revisit this couple and that writing style again!!

at #3, with 59 votes, we have... two in one! y'all. no. i'm shook. wig FLEW, wig in the STRATOSPHERE. say WHAT?!?!?! the first fic i ever posted on this blog, my most self-indulgent work (actually it might not be the Most lmfao but it's UP THERE) - i'm. NUMBER THREE?!?!??! okayokayokay 👀 i see y'all 👀 we're gonna have a verrrrry fun jihope month next month aren't we?!?! 😈

at #2, with 65 votes, we have... the shape of your body! oh man 🥺 i'm almost, like, emotional to see this one rank so high. this fic is so so personal and dear to me, and was a BIG leap for my writing in a lot of ways. the fact that the response has been so overwhelmingly positive, and that so many of y'all read all 24,000 words of that fic and said you want MORE. i can never put into words how much that means to me 🙇‍♀️ it's hard for me to think of a whole plot for a sequel - bc i wrote so damn much already 😂 but lemme see what i can do to at least cook up a drabble or two (if you have ideas, keep 'em in your back pocket for jihope month 👀)

and finally... at #1... with 70 votes... no one is surprised 😂 - it's drip! ahhhhh squirt god min yoongi. we meet again. i will never live this fic down lmfaoooo. and funny... doesn't he have a birthday coming up soon? i could've sworn... 👀💦💦💦

alright besties!!! i'd love to know your thoughts!!! any surprises? any you're happy to see?? anything that didn't make the list that you're about to get out the torches and pitchforks over??? i wanna hear it all, so drop me a comment or an ask and let me knoooow!! 🎤💜

(for me, it's babygirl missing out on the top 10 by two votes... but it's fine i'm fine... 😭)

also can i just say - look at y'all, getting ALL OF OT7 ON THE BOARD??? we fucking love to see it!!! equal opportunists on this blog! yaaaaaaas porn for everybody!!! 👏👏👏

[aintnowaybruhgtfo]

the best part C.S

fluff, making out, brief nudity

a/n: my second fic!! it's a small little story i was in a fluffy mood so i'm writing one of the most romantic things in my opinion. this is like my dream lmfao.

orange chris

pink y/n

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

4:37 am

today was the day i have dreamed of since i was a little girl. no not my wedding but i have always wanted to go on a sunrise date with my dream boyfriend. i'm glad to say i'm finally fulfilling this with chris.

i put on my- i mean chris's favorite dark green hoodie ,that was oversized on me,on with nothing but a black bra under, along with my grey sweatpants and my sneakers. i put on my glasses knowing i didn't have the energy to put on contacts this early in the morning. i grabbed my car keys and flipped my hood over my hair to hide the fact i didn't style it.

hey ml im omw to ur house rn

should be there in about 4 mins💞

i'm up and ready baby i'll be waiting outside for u❤️

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

before i went to chris's house, i picked up a chocolate donut for him and a strawberry for me along with two iced coffees. i put on me and chris shared playlist. playing my favorite song, the best part by daniel ceaser. it reminded me of chris so much.

i pulled into the driveway and he almost immediately jumped in the passenger seat.

"hello my sweet boy!"

"hi my love! you got me my favorite!"

"only the best for my baby"

"oh nice sweat shirt where did you get it"

"it's so comfy you can't blame me"

"well it looks better on you anyway"

i could tell he just woke up because his voice was still groggy. he was rubbing his eyes trying to wake up. he was wearing nike grey sweats with a purple hoodie. we shared a quick kiss as i ran my fingers through his hair. one of my favorite things about him is how he lets me play with his hair. i remember he used to be sensitive about his hair and didn't let anyone touch it. we continued to sing our favorite song by daniel ceaser.

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

we arrive to our spot. he asked me out here, he apologized to me here, he took pictures of us that are currently his wallpaper here. it was a very special place to us. it was still a bit dark out as we were waiting for the sunrise. we brought blankets and cuddled up in them. i brought my speaker and continued to play our playlist. we got our drinks and donuts and shared them together.

"have i told you this is my dream date"

"only 5 times "

"stopp! you don't understand how much this means to me."

"i couldn't be happier to share it with you."

chris grazes my thigh with one hand drawing little shapes. the other hand he was stroking my cheek.

"I just wanted to say thank you"

"anything for you."

he pulls me into a kiss. his soft fruity flavored lips gently press against mine. little moans escaping my mouth. I explained to him earlier that i didn't want this to be to sexual so i knew he would just keep this at making out. i run my hands through his hair,while in passionate kissed we whisper "i love you " back and forth to each other as we slowly catch our breath. i pull my sweatshirt over my head exposing my black bra.

"i thought we weren't"

"we aren't. i'm just hot"

he left one hand caressing my cheek and the other placing his hand on my almost exposed breast.

"i can feel your heart beat"

"it gets like this whenever around you. wow you don't realize the impact you have on me do you"

"i guess i don't, but you do know you make my heart beat faster whenever i see you."

"really?"

"yeah, your the most amazing person i've ever met and i'm so glad i'm spending my life with you."

happy tears start to flood my eyes as i pull him in for another kiss with chris. he pulls me in to cuddle as we watch the sunrise and get into more conversation. i wish i could spend the rest of my life with him.

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

the sunrise was the most beautiful i've seen. we took more amazing photos. we drove back to chris's house and took a nap together.