#crawled so far up his asshole you might as well die there

[k1d1c4rus]

"discourse that pete or patrick were misogynistic is crazy" have you met a teenage boy

[wolfvmin]

House of Cards: The Last Dance

pairing: chishiya shuntarou x fem!reader genre: angst, unrequited love (but is it really), pining, fluff (can u believe it) wc: 15.7k (uhm) warnings: badly written action scenes, implied abuse, more flashbacks, unedited </3 summary: in which after leaving chishiya, you were forced back into the games of borderland. a/n: this is all i can do i'm sorry song used: when i fall in love - nat king cole PART 1 > FINAL

Death doesn’t discriminate between sinners or saints.

As you lay there on the ground with the smell of cinder filling your nose and the heat of the scorching fire warming your skin, your mind brings you back to the means you had to go through to live another day in Borderland. You’ve lied, beaten, betrayed, and killed to survive. You hadn’t expected the ten of hearts game to appear just as you leave Chishiya. You also hadn’t expected the massacre of the Beach through a witch hunt. Everything about this is unexpected, just like everything that has happened so far in this world you didn’t ask to be in.

Niragi missed anything vital or permanently life-altering, you know that much given your medical background. He missed the femoral artery, you were pretty sure about it. Well, not that he was aiming for it when he started his reckless free-shooting. You were one of the bodies thrown off to the ground and was shot in the leg. 

Arisu and Usagi scream for you as you hit the ground with a thud, your arms stopping your head from the impact. With a groan, you lie your head on the ground in defeat. 

Usagi starts moving instead of checking on you, maneuvering and avoiding the distraught running bodies and bullets. 

You didn’t feel it at first, and then it started to hurt like a bitch that you wanted to die right there and then. How do you survive this? You immediately start thinking. The bleeding has to be stopped, for sure. How deep is the wound? That’s the first thing you have to check. But why can’t you move? You’re so tired. 

You turn your head to your left, Usagi has jumped on Niragi’s back, distracting him from his shooting rampage. Arisu comes to her aid, trying to take the gun from Niragi. In return, he gets repeatedly hit in the back by the gunned man in the process. 

Arisu couldn’t do it. He had too much injury and was weakened by the constant beating. 

Niragi was able to overpower him and kick him to the floor. He spins with his strength, sending Usagi’s body away from his back and flying to the floor with a loud impact. 

“Usagi!” you scream, despair not hidden in your voice. 

You attempt to sit up, adrenaline rush filling your senses to be able to save your friends. This was game over for you. You have no one to go back to in the real world. Chishiya is safe, you’re sure of it. Kuina is still here so he might be here too. He had to get the last card of the deck, of course. But he’ll be fine. 

With a shot leg, you won’t be able to get far anyway. 

Arisu quickly crawls in front of Usagi in a useless attempt to protect her from Niragi as he aims his gun at the both of them. They’re both weak and tired, there was no escaping from Niragi as they were his sole target. 

“You…” Niragi mutters. “I’ll kill all of you!” 

Your body was moving before you even knew it. As if you hadn’t had your thigh injured, you sprint over as a head start and jump to where the perverted asshole is. Your heart raced faster than your feet did as you shouted with all your might, raising your uninjured leg as you flew in the air. You succeed in getting Niragi’s attention as he looks up at you with wide eyes. Unlike Usagi, you don't jump to his back, instead your foot slams into his head, sending him flying across the floor. 

This attack had you rolling on the ground and then on your stomach when you land. Coughs sputter out of your mouth as the burning building’s smoke begins to affect your lungs. 

Arisu and Usagi could only look at you with stunned wide opened eyes and raised brows as you landed a few feet away from them.

“Run!” You scream at them with tight fists as you attempt to get back up again. It seems the adrenaline rush was no longer there to help you as you struggle to support yourself again. 

Niragi was getting up again. This makes you furrow your brows and groan, tears forming in your eyes in frustration as you slam your fists on the ground. There was no time. If the two try to run away in their bad state, they’ll be shot dead by Niragi. 

You’re fucked. 

Why can’t this motherfucker just die? you grimaced.

You drag your body with whatever strength you have, barely sitting up as you stare down at the man who had just gotten up to his feet with difficulty and a hand on his bleeding head. 

Just as Niragi raises his weapon, like a raging bull, Aguni rushes in and attacks him, pushing himself and Niragi into the spreading fire deeper inside the building. You could no longer see their bodies but shots were heard. 

“Three minutes remaining,” the game reminded the players.

As your body collapses on the floor in relief, all the people of the Beach rush to carry Momoka’s body to the Fire of Judgement. 

Arisu and Usagi try to help you stand but you wave them off when they successfully make you sit. “No. No. Clear the game first.” You laughed in between coughs. “I need to catch a breath.” 

Usagi tries to argue with you but you glare at her. “I’ll be out as soon as the phone dings,” you assure them.

“Can you walk?” Arisu asks as he looks at your leg.

You nod and roll your eyes. “I was a med student, Arisu. I can handle it.” 

The pair looked at each other as if communicating with their eyes and then they nod, lifting each and limping out of the building to head over to the Fire of Judgement. You watch their retreating figures, relieved that the two are safe. 

You look back down at your wounded thigh and laugh. You were probably overreacting a bit. It seems that your presumptions were correct. It didn’t hit anything bad and the bullet did enter you but exited you as well. But you do have to stop the bleeding as soon as possible. 

Great, now you’re going to have ugly scars on your thigh. So it’s bye-bye bikinis? 

You scoff and take off the white cover-up you had over yourself, leaving you in the two-piece black bikini you’ve been wearing since you arrived at the beach. You began to wrap it around your thigh skillfully just as you were taught. Blood began to seep through the cloth and you knew that soon enough, you have to replace it with a real bandage and sew the open wound.

The phone for the game dinged and you sigh in relief. They were able to burn Momoka’s body, after all. 

Definitely not with ease, you were able to push yourself back up. If it wasn’t for your determination to keep your promise to Usagi and Arisu, you would’ve just laid there for a little longer.

So much for Utopia, you thought.

As you were about to exit the building, your feet stopped on their own accord when something crossed your mind, making the corner of your lips turn up into a smirk. 

You sat on the small round marble table with your legs dangling and fingers playing with the ten of hearts card. Flames are eating up the building around you but you know you don’t have to be around here any longer. As if on cue, you see the familiar white jacket from your peripheral, bringing a sad smile to your face. 

“I saved it for you, Chishiya.”

There was no greeting needed. You turn your head to your right and give him a happier, faker smile. His eyes stray down to your injured thigh for a second but back to your face in no time. He approaches you with no caution and no clue of emotion on his face.

You don’t doubt he saw the whole ordeal back there. He probably saw you and your friends struggle as he sat back and watched the scene unfold like a movie. He watched you almost die. It was so like him, quiet and scheming as he does whatever is best for him. 

Now, he was here to steal the last remaining card too. 

“It’s no longer Shuntarou, huh?” 

He doesn’t receive any answer from you but he knows the answer why. You were still mad at him. How could you not? He practically sent your comrades to their deathbeds if it wasn’t for the unexpected game venue. 

“To be honest, I don’t think it’s even important if we collect all the cards,” you confessed as you stare at the single card in your hand, flipping to its front and back. You finally turn your whole body to face him, stretching your arm to offer the card to him. “But here, just so you have it all.” 

He raises a brow, staring at you with a smirk. Goddamn, is he attractive. It’s so unfair. 

His mouth opens, about to say something but another person walks in. He realizes this when your eyes stray from his and shift to the tall woman in a blue swimsuit. You smile at her, uncaring of the interruption. 

“You two are quite persistent, aren’t you?” Kuina asks with a smirk. Chishiya turns to look at her for a second before facing you again. 

She nods over to your still wrapped-up thigh. “That was cool–what you did to Niragi. Where did you learn that?”

“It was just luck,” you tell her, earning a scoff from the man in front of you. 

He takes the card from your hand. “Don’t believe her. She’s a spades player and was an athlete.” 

Among other things, sports were one of the few things you had to give up on when you were forced to pursue medicine. But you never told Chishiya that you would still make time to compete in underground fights. It was the only way you could keep doing it with your parents not knowing. So yes, you were a retired mixed martial arts athlete that eventually became skilled in street fights. 

Chishiya knew, of course. You would disappear and not bother him for weeks, healing any injuries that you incurred during the fights. Most of the time, you’ll be gone for a week. Until, there was one time in particular when you had not bothered him for almost two weeks and even canceled the date you were so excited to be on. Curiosity got the best of him, leading him to your apartment where he found you tending to your wounds alone. It was when you finally told him what you have been doing. 

“So this is what you have been up to.” 

Chishiya was leaning against the doorway with an unamused face, holding a flier of the underground fight in his hand.

You had been applying ointment on your wounds. The fight was worse than usual and your opponent decided to destroy your face. Of course, you won because you were so pissed off that you were going to have to cancel a date with Chishiya so he wouldn’t notice the black eye and your wounded nose. 

You drop the cotton bud with wide eyes and a gasp, scrambling to hide your face in your hands. 

It was kind of funny—you in your underwear, exposing all the healing bruises all over your body and face. Chishiya doesn’t react seeing you almost naked. It was like the nonchalant man doesn’t see you as a woman. 

You lower your hands from your eyes so you could see him but still enough to cover your face from the eyes down. “Are you going to tell dad?” you ask like a kid being caught shattering a vase. 

He sighs, walking over to your bed and sitting down with his hands inside his jacket’s pocket. “What would I gain from that?” It was rhetorical. You know he’ll gain nothing from saying anything. Instead, you know he’d rather keep his mouth shut and use it against you. 

In front of the mirror, you watch his reflection fixate on your body’s bruises. Suddenly feeling a bit insecure, you purse your bruised lips and head over to your closet to grab a silk robe to wrap around your half-naked self. 

“Why are you here, Shuntarou?” you ask with folded arms.

He shrugs and looks away from you. “‘Was curious.”

Silence filled your room, only the ticking of your wall clock being heard. You sigh. “I won’t stop doing it,” you tell him firmly. 

“I know,” he responds as if he expected you to say that. “But tell me, how long do you plan to keep on doing this?” He raises the flier in his hand again as if mocking you with it. 

You understand. You used to fight in arenas with media, judges, journalists, and opponents who are trained the same way as you. Underground fighting—it was different. It’s illegal, messier, and deadlier. Often, there are no rules. It’s quite literally beat your opponent to death or be beaten to death. Sometimes, weapons are even snuck in and nobody cares if it’s against the rules. 

It was dangerous for you but more dangerous for your family name. 

But you couldn’t help it, the rush it gives you—it made you feel alive more than championships ever did. 

To hide the bruises from your father, you would over-accessorize and constantly shop for new clothes. During the day, you were the rich and elegant daughter he wanted. But at night, you were a fighter under a different name and a mask.

When you don’t answer, Chishiya dismisses the question and looks over the medicine you got for yourself on your vanity table. “There’s better ointment than that.” 

You roll your eyes. Of course, he has to be smarter about that. “It’s the only brand the nearest drugstore had.” 

Then you grin, a thought coming into your mind. “Maybe you can help me apply it?” 

“No,” he stands up from your bed. “I’m leaving.” 

But he didn’t and he spent the night treating your wounds like a doctor should.

“Well, I have to go back to my friends,” you brought yourself to your feet, a hand hovering over your injured thigh. Kuina reached over to help you but you rejected her attempt with a smile. There’s a struggle but you were able to walk away from them even with the pain. 

You would kill for crutches right now. 

“Wait!” Kuina stops you. You turn around, confused as she approaches you. She removes the sword sheath from her shoulder and hands it over to you. You quickly recognize this as The Last Boss’, the militant always around Niragi, sword. “You can use this to steady yourself.”

You smile and take it from her. “Thank you,” you accept it with genuine gratitude, looking over to Chishiya who was watching the exchange quietly on the side.

“I’ll see you around, Kuina.” 

Arisu, Usagi, and you found a place to stay along with the others from the Beach. There, you tended to your wounds and recovered. There were no games. Those whose visas were about to expire tried to go to previous game venues but nothing happened.

It’s as if Borderlands completely stopped.

Some assume that the games are over since all the numbered cards were completed but you know that’s hardly the case. This is the silence before the storm—a grace period if you will. 

“Where’s Usagi?” you ask Arisu when you wake up and the pretty climber was nowhere to be found. He was looking better and his injuries were mostly healed.

“She went and looked for supplies with the others,” he answered with a yawn. 

Even if the three of you only spent a few days at the Beach, everyone began to miss the luxury of hotel beds, warm breakfast, hot showers, and electricity. Following the ten of hearts game, the survivors camped together. Eventually, it began to be suffocating as the same people reminded them of the Witch Hunt massacre. Most militants were eaten by their guilt and left, while those who had their comrades killed by militants still felt disgusted by them and chose to separate from the group. Wounds heal but they can’t be rushed. 

The three of you stayed with Ann and Tatta, hopping from one place to another for a few nights. 

Last night, you stayed at a small house with two bedrooms which were occupied by the girls and boys each. It didn’t have much supply hence why Usagi must’ve gone with Tatta and Ann. 

You were pretty much useless because of your injury and one of your three companions always had to stay with you even if you try to assure them you’ll be fine. It was mostly Arisu who was being overprotective. You had a hunch that it was mostly because it was a leg injury. It must’ve hit close to home, you think. 

Nevertheless, you were thankful for their care. Plus, it was a good thing that the games have somehow stopped for a while because you surely wouldn’t have survived with a leg you could barely walk on. The bullet missed your muscle or any artery, what it hit was mostly fat. 

You raised your leg on the coffee table while you sat on the couch. You could walk better now and maybe even run. You haven’t pushed it though, opting to do exercises that would help you recover faster. You were a spades player, after all. It wouldn’t do you any good when the games finally start.

“It’s a good thing you were in med school,” Arisu points to your leg. You gave him a wide grin, taking in the compliment.

“What a shame it was so boring,” you say. 

Arisu smiles, handing you the cup of instant ramen. You thanked him quietly and began to eat. He sits down beside you and eats his cup too. For a minute, the only thing that could be heard in the living room was the sound of your slurps and chewing. 

“So,” Arisu started, “I’m sorry about Chishiya.” 

You shrug, trying not to show how the C-word affects you. “I’m sorry too. Y’know, because he basically tried to kill you and Usagi. I know that you mostly trusted him because of my feelings for him.” 

“That’s what I’m sorry for,” he explains, “I didn’t think he’d betray you too. I thought he really cared for you. Especially when he said those things about you.” 

His words make you pause from your meal, looking at the shaggy-haired boy in curiosity and confusion. “What things?” you ask and begin to chew again, this time slowly, waiting for your friend’s answer. 

“He told me we shouldn’t include you in our plans because…” He set down his cup on his lap and chewed away the fullness of his mouth before continuing. “Because he doesn’t want you in any danger. He said ‘I’m sure you understand. If you were in my place, you wouldn’t want the only person you like in this life to be in any danger.’” 

Your breath catches in your throat. You know it wasn’t real. But to hear that Chishiya Shuntarou said those words about you even if they were lies? You wish you would’ve heard it yourself. In fact, you would give an arm and a leg for him to say that to you.

Arisu sighed, slumping his back on the couch. “He said it was still my choice if I’ll ask you and it was just his simple request. I was an idiot. I didn’t know he was doing it because he knows you’ll figure out his real plans if you knew our plan.” 

You stayed silent for a few seconds and then replied in a low voice. “You’re not an idiot.” A frown paints on your face. “He’s a manipulative motherfucker, that’s what he is.” 

“What made you like him so much, then?” Arisu lets his curiosity free with the question.

His question was valid. It’s no doubt that the asshole was attractive and cool. These are traits he had in common with millions of men in the world so why Chishiya of all people? Is it because you had no option? But you do. In fact, you hated the idea of your parents saying you’ll marry one of their friends’ sons. 

But heck, do your parents know you. They’re clever, you’ll admit. They really got you where they wanted you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m late!” 

The door opens with a loud thud, revealing you with your hands on your knees, in your messily worn high school uniform, and catching your breath from the running. You came from morning training for the Karate team but lost track of time. All your classmates had their eyes on you, some snickering and laughing at you. 

“Miss L/N, that’s the third time this month,” your teacher deadpans while still writing on the board. 

“I know, sir! I’ll try my very very very best not to do it again this month, sir!” You shout, grinning from ear to ear as you stand up straight with your left arm on your sides and your other hand in a salute. Your teacher sighs, muttering “this month” and shaking his head, making the class laugh. 

“Just get back to your seat, L/N,” he replies in defeat. 

“Yes, sir!” you agree and set down your salute back into a military stance. Your class laughs once again and you laugh along with them. You head to your seat at the back of the class, a few of your classmates giving you a high-five greeting as you pass by them. 

Your steps halt when you notice you finally have a seatmate. He had mid-length blonde hair, half of it tied up with a few strands on the sides of his face. He wasn’t even looking at you, focusing on the writing on the blackboard instead. The stranger intrigued you so you raise a brow and look at your side where your nearest classmate sat. 

“The new student,” he whispers. “His name is Chishiya Shuntarou.” 

You smirk, thanking your classmate and heading over to your designated seat. You set down your backpack on the floor and sat down, facing the new student who was still not acknowledging you with his stare. 

“Hi. I’m Y/N L/N,” you introduce yourself and hold out your hand. “Let’s be friends, yeah?”

The stranger stops writing his notes and finally looks at you straight in the face and then back to your hand. 

He just ignores you and continues writing his notes again. 

You stare at him dumbfounded with your held-out hand, frozen and in disbelief. ‘What an asshole,’ you think. You shrug anyway and retract your hand, sitting properly to face the board. 

“Chishiya, right?” you start a conversation even if you sense that he won’t bother answering. “Why would you transfer in the middle of the semester?” You were bringing out your notebook when a thought passed by you.

Then it clicks. “Chishiya, that sounds familiar.” You say to yourself particularly when you flip open the pages of your notebook to a blank page. 

“Idiot.” It was him mumbling but you hear it all too well.

Your mouth drops at his voice and it finally hits you. It was him. Chishiya Shuntarou, son of most of your hospitals’ directors. You see him during events your parents drag you to ever since you were children. He was always reserved and quiet but you always admired him, even harboring a little crush on him. You’ve been so deep into your sports for years that you actually forgot what your life was like before you found something that really excited you. 

A smile unconsciously spreads on your face in recalling the memory. 

“Shuntarou,” you pause. “He grounds me down.”

Do you think Chishiya was a good person? Definitely not. You weren’t perfect, either. People are neither good nor bad. There’s no such simple person as that. Chishiya is a troubled person. He’s struggling with how to connect with himself and others. This is something you find in common with him. 

When you are in trouble, Chishiya always finds a way to be there for you in his own way. You used to think that he cares about you and you liked to think that way still. But for now, you two have different priorities. You are at war. 

And no one comes out the same person they were before the battle started.

“You sure about this, Y/N?” 

Usagi was asking you for the nth time. You nod. “I’m all healed,” you reply. That was partly true. You’re sure you can run now but there’s still a limit to what you can do specifically in terms of fighting. But you were stubborn enough not to leave Arisu and Usagi to investigate the Minami-Aoyama station alone.

The three of you traced the steps of Asahi and Momoka from the video that Arisu found on the phone she left behind. You walked in the dark train tracks just like they did until you found a door. 

It was opened so Arisu cautiously heads in while the two of you trail behind him, ready for any attack to come but there was nothing. You continued to walk the empty hallway, searching for the place in the video.

Arisu halts his step and you realize you were here. The three of you entered the dark room, Arisu pointing his flashlights around it. 

The lively room filled with monitors and people cheering in the video was now a dark lifeless room with multiple dead people slumped over monitors and evidence of being shot by a laser. They seemed to be players in Borderland too but unlike you, they were well-groomed and well-fed. 

“Holy shit,” you mumbled.

“You actually found this place.”

A voice startles the three of you and Arisu immediately points the flashlight in the direction of the voice. From another entrance of the room, Chishiya and Kuina strut in. You put on your guard. Why was he here? Are they one of the dealers? It’s unlikely the case but why?

“As expected from someone I have high hopes for,” the blonde continued.

“We meet again,” Kuina speaks. 

Usagi doesn’t hide the disgust in her tone and countenance. “It’s you,” she says with furrowed brows, no doubt still mad over the pair’s betrayal. Kuina looks away in slight guilt, looking over at Chishiya.

You follow her gaze and notice he no longer wears the jacket you gave him. Instead, he wore a blue and white gradient cardigan over his shirt. You feel a tad of disappointment in your heart at the thought that he has thrown it away or lost it. 

“Thanks to you, I have all the numbered playing cards with me.” He held up the deck of cards as he says it, a condescending smirk painted on his face. He truly is a despicable human being. 

Arisu glares at him and flatly asks, “How did you find this place?”

Chishiya brings out a small folded piece of paper and unfolds it to show you its contents. “It took me a while to realize that this is actually the route map of a subway station.” From afar, the drawing really did look like random scribbles. It’s a good thing that the man is observant. You don’t know where he got it but Arisu may have had a clue as you see the expression on his face. They have both participated in a game, after all.

“What happens when we collect all the cards?” He saunters closer to you with his hands in his pockets. “I thought I’d find the answer if I come here.” His eyes explore the room. “But there’s only one thing I discovered.”

“They’re not game masters,” Arisu cuts him off, finishing his sentence. 

“Right,” Chishiya agrees. “Judging from the fact that they were all killed after our victory. They’re humans like us and on top of that, there’s someone above them.” 

You scoff. “What? Like a God?” 

“Just who could they be?” Usagi asks no one in particular as she looks at Chishiya.

“Who knows? They might be aliens,” he pauses and shifts his eyes to you with a smug and mocking face, “or as your friend said, even God himself.” It was the first time he acknowledged you in the room. You raise a brow, slightly offended. His bitter tone doesn’t pass by you and the fact that he called you ‘your friend’ instead of your name, vexed you.

Not that you planned to give him a reaction but if you did, you wouldn’t be given the chance because the lights of the room turned on, followed by the wall of multiple television and computer screens circling the room accompanied by heightened ceremonial music. 

The screens reveal a familiar face—the executive specializing in the hearts game, Mira, sitting on a chair in a black gown. A vicious smile is plastered on her face. It sets an eerie feeling in your heart. What kind of fucked up shit is happening here?

“Congratulations to all players,” her voice sent chills down your spine. “With the exception of the face card games, all of you have cleared all thus far and emerged as victors by sacrificing numerous lives.” 

Her head tilts to the side, feigning innocence and wonder. “I wonder how many of your comrades have died?” 

She stands up, raising an arm. “Try to remember those that were shot dead with a gun.” She walks around as the screen shows recorded videos of the games. “That girl that you burned alive, those struck with the lasers, those that drowned, those whose heads were blown off, those comrades of yours.” You feel Arisu flinch beside you at the mention of the last sentence. 

“The despair you’ve felt so far and those dying moments that you can never forget.” 

One particular screen catches your eye but not because of a man’s head being blown off. It was because standing near that man was a familiar shaggy-haired boy. Your gaze flits to the man’s face beside you and you see the flash of horror in his eyes as the screams of people from the games fill your ears. 

“I’m extremely touched!” Mira exclaims. “All of you players, we would like to give you a present.” Her movements were odd as if she was really excited about this. One thing’s for sure, whatever’s Mira’s role is in this world, she isn’t being forced to do it. 

“Are you returning us to the original world?” Kuina thinks out loud. You purse your lips, doubting that that’s the case. 

Mira gasps, eyes widening as her body shakes in excitement. “There will be new games!” She exclaims happily like the words don’t mean death and destruction on a whole new level. “Let’s play games together. You’ll fight for face cards.” 

“Wow,” you react with a flat tone. “She’s fucked in the head.”

There’s disbelief in Kuina’s voice when she asks, “New games?” 

“I don’t dislike the idea,” Chishiya says, the smirk not being wiped off his face. Your fists clench at his words. You don’t understand him. How could he like these games? Death, betrayal, being played around like lab rats—were those entertaining to him? You always thought Chishiya was a little bit different than most and he was just doing his most to survive but is this a side to him that you’ve blinded yourself to? 

“We’ve still got many more wonderful games prepared for all of you, so look forward to it!” Mira ends her ridiculous speech. 

“This woman…” Usagi finally speaks.”Is she the game master?” 

“I’d rather see an alien appear on the screen.” Kuina thinks out loud. 

“The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon,” the camera zooms in on Mira’s face. “Let’s have some fun together!” 

“So we have to fight again,” Usagi says, feeling defeated.

“Yes,” Arisu replies. “But something is different... we’re finally seeing our target.” He says with his eyes focused on Mira, glaring and determined. 

“You’re mad again,” Chishiya states the obvious in the dark of the room you’ve entered.

You slam yourself on the nearest display bed, looking around the furniture store you’ve sheltered in from the King of Spades. By not answering Chishiya, you clearly agree with his suspicion. Of course, you were pissed off. If he ran with urgency as a normal person does, maybe you would’ve been able to jump inside that car with your friends. 

“It’s not like we would’ve fit. I’m sure you’ll find them again,” he assures you, unconvincingly with a bitter tone in his voice.

He looks at the sky through the glass window of the store. “The blimp is gone,” he observes out loud. “We can rest here if you want and then we can go.” 

“If his whole Arena is Tokyo, then that means we have no choice but to join the other games,” you think out loud. There are 12 face cards, meaning there’d be 11 games out there and one game where a single overpowered man aims to shoot down every player out here. Even if you were a spades player, your combat skills, no matter how great, are no match with his unending ammo. You can’t exactly kick or punch those bullets away. 

“That’s the point,” he replies flatly. 

You glare at him, scoffing and lying down on the bed fully with your head resting on your arm. “You should get me food,” you tell him and ignore his sarcastic remark. You don’t really expect him to comply, you were just doing it to get on his nerves like usual. 

“Do it yourself,” he says with a sigh. 

“As you can see, I’m injured…” You point to your thigh wound that was still wrapped and can be seen clearly from the ends of your gym shorts. Obviously, that was a lie and you can move freely now. “And hungry.” 

He scoffs, sitting on the mattress next to you. Deafening silence began to fill the room and you almost forget that Chishiya is in the same room as you. His presence begins to make you uncomfortable, not because you hated him but because you don’t like him seeing you vulnerable. So, you turn to your side with your back facing him. 

The king of spades, he just destroyed everyone out there. These next games, they’re much crueler than the numbered ones. You barely made it out alive and now you have to participate in harder games? And when they’re all over, who’s to say that you could actually go back?

Do you even want to go back?

If you were to die here, it wouldn’t be much loss to the real world, anyway. Things haven’t changed despite the circumstances—your priority was still to get Chishiya out of here if he can. You’re sure you will see Usagi and Arisu again. They’ll be fine. They even got Kuina, Ann, and Tatta by their side. Maybe you were separated from them so you can protect Chishiya somehow. 

You don’t doubt that he’d want to join the diamond games. In fact, maybe he’s even excited about it. If it came down to you joining him in one, you’ll try your best to help him win. But if you two somehow find yourself in a game where he will need your strength, you’d be glad to be there with him. 

The thing is, you know you would sacrifice yourself for him but the question is, would he willingly sacrifice you to win?

As you drown in your thoughts, your body shuts down to sleep, suddenly exhausted from all the running. 

The dress you wore flowed freely, the ends dragging on the floor. Even if you find yourself more at home with gym clothes, dressing up did excite you too. It just wasn’t as convenient as gym clothes where you can move freely. 

Tonight, you were ecstatic as the lavender gown you had a famous designer made sculpted your upper body perfectly as you fit it the night before the dance. Giggling, you think back to the blonde’s acceptance of your invitation to the school event. 

“So, Shuntarou, have you asked someone to the dance yet? or maybe been asked by someone?” you ask as you sat beside him in the classroom during break time.

“If you wouldn’t glare at any girl that would approach me, maybe someone would’ve.” He replies in a monotone voice as he eats his cookies. It was his favorite brand. 

“I do not glare,” you reply, glaring. “And if you want to go with someone, just tell me who and I’ll help you.” 

He raises a brow, finally looking at you but with full judgment. He knows you’re bluffing. “At least try.” 

You lose your facade. “Ok, then. Will you go with me to the dance?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” he replies, dull as always.

You skip around your room, heart fluttering at the thought of slow dancing with the nonchalant blonde boy. You imagine the jealous stares of the girls who have a crush on him. You couldn’t help it. You were in high school and in love. 

Afraid to accidentally damage the dress in any way, you remove it and keep it in a safe place. Tomorrow, you’ll have a team to help you get ready. Then, Chishiya will fetch you and you will go to the dance together. 

In your excitement, you forgot to drink water or even eat dinner. You were only reminded when you feel your throat get parched. With that realization, you head to the kitchen to get something to eat. 

As you were munching on some leftover pasta you found, you hear your father’s voice in the living room. Since when was he home? You become more cautious of your actions, careful not to make any noise as you eat. It’s better to not encounter him at all.

“Ah, he’s taking her to some school dance? That’s good.” School dance? What is he talking about? 

Due to curiosity, you leave your food and tiptoe closer to eavesdrop on the conversation. It seems that he’s on the phone. 

“She’s still a kid, wasting her time on stupid matters. It’s good that Shuntarou is already thinking about a future in medicine.” Shuntarou? You now realize that he’s talking to Shuntarou’s dad and with the tone of his voice at the mention of ‘her,’ it’s safe to assume that he’s talking about you. Your father hated the numerous extracurriculars you were doing, especially those of sports. He always believed they were a waste of time and that if you wanted to do extracurriculars, you should’ve just joined the student council. 

“They’ve been getting along well, I’ve heard. As soon as Shuntarou finishes his residency and gains a little experience, we can have them married,” your father speaks to his phone. 

You froze at hearing the word ‘married.’ What did he mean by that? Could it be… Chishiya and you were being arranged to be married? And then it hit you. It’s all planned. The reason why Chishiya was transferred to your school in the middle of the semester after some unknown reason is because of your father. He was transferred there for you. 

Your father says more to his friend on the phone. It was all about you and Chishiya and some for the hospital. From what you’ve gathered, it was so Chishiya can inherit the position of chairman. 

You can practically hear your heart shatter as it sinks to the ground. At such a young age, your father doesn’t believe in you. It’s always been like this. He just believed from the get-go that you didn’t have it in you to win. You weren’t gifted like him. 

Chishiya is the child he wants, not you. 

“Tell Chishiya to keep up the good work. I’ll give him a reward for taking my daughter to the dance.”

And it seems that Chishiya knows all about it too. 

Your eyes fluttered open, lids feeling a bit heavy because of the unexpected sleep. As you sat up, your throat immediately felt parched from thirst. You really needed water. 

Looking around, you find no sign of your companion. You felt a funny feeling in your stomach, wondering where he had gone. Has he already gone and joined a game? It seemed like something he would do here in Borderland, leave you in the middle of nowhere alone and unguarded. 

You were about to stand up to actually look for the blonde man when you noticed something new on the display side table of the bed you slept on. It was unopened canned food and a bottle of water. There was no note or anything but it could only be from the blonde-haired guy himself. Has he really gone out alone and looted food for you?

You decide to quench your thirst first before dealing with him, grabbing the plastic bottle in a swift motion and opening the cap hastily before drinking in chugs. 

“Slow down.” 

As if on cue, Chishiya enters the furniture shop, now in the white jacket you gave him. Where did he hide that? Did he go back to where he left it when you were asleep?

You brought the bottle from your lips, staring at him like a puzzle. “Where did you go?” 

“Outside,” he answers flatly. You glare at him. “Just say thank you for the food and water.”

You don’t answer right away, watching silently as the man sits down again on the bed next to you, laying down some things he probably found around. It’s weird how it oddly felt domestic. If you were to disregard the numerous pieces of furniture around you, you could imagine yourself in a place in the real world where you two have your own home, happily married, and are in possession of what you two always wanted. 

You shake off the thought. Not only is that impossible in Borderland, but it’s also impossible in the real world. 

You open the canned food. It was mixed fruits. After you thanked him softly, you began to eat quietly, chewing slowly as he said to.

“Have you eaten?” you ask as he stares at you. He gives you a nod before taking his eyes off you and back to his tinkering. 

“Are you joining a game soon?” you attempt a conversation again. 

“I think we have to,” he answers.

He was right. “Yeah.” You bit your lip, afraid to ask what’s been lingering in your mind. “Do… do you want to join a game together?” 

He stills, “no.” 

“Why not? I’m strong. I can protect you,” you point at the sword you laid on the ground. 

“That’s not enough,” Chishiya answers in a heartbeat. 

“Would you rather I die alone?” It was a tough question. Not for him but for you. If you were going to be asked, you’d rather have your last moments with him. 

He audibly tsks, standing up from the bed and putting his hands in his pockets. He walks away from you and the conversation. Disappointment creeps into your skin. You knew he wouldn’t care about your sentiments. 

His hand stays on the door, not opening it yet. “Tomorrow,” he speaks, not even turning around to look at you. “We’ll join a game together.”

It sent a chill down your spine. You didn’t know what his motives are. Did he decide to go on a game with you because of what you asked… or did it give him an idea to finally end you?

It’s a good thing that the next stage shows you what game you will be entering through the blimps. The game you enter varies on one’s strengths and risks. You know that you wouldn’t willingly enter a Hearts game with the people you care about and you would try to enter a game you specialize in. 

“No heart games,” Chishiya tells you. 

You’ve found yourself inside a small home to spend the night in. It was safer than the furniture store with glass windows. You thought it’d be nice to decide on what game to choose.

You felt the mattress dip beside you, indicating Chishiya sat down. 

The house was small and cozy. It was a one-bedroom and looked like it belonged to a couple simply because it had everything by pair. What made you stay though, is that Chishiya has found their secret stash of food that was hidden inside the bedroom and under the floors of the closet.

The supply could last you maybe about a week.

You turn your head to Chishiya. It was already night time and you only had a candlelight lamp lighting up the room. He has taken off his jacket, leaving him in his shirt and pants. 

It was not the first time you’d shared a bed. When your families would go on trips together, they’d make you share a room. If you didn’t know about your father’s plans, you would find it odd how they were too willing for you two to get along that they were putting their young adult child inside a bedroom with a guy her age. 

During those trips, you would fall asleep on his bed while telling him stories. At first, Chishiya would leave you be and sleep on your bed. Until one night, when it became too frequent, he just slept beside you. And then the rest was history. 

As he lies down beside you, you hear his gentle breathing, see the rise and fall of his chest, and the way he inhales and exhales. It seemed that he was in deep thought. Could it be that he was worried about the games too?

“How about a Diamonds game?” you suggest. You think that you were pretty smart and you could handle it more with him by your side.

Chishiya doesn’t answer, looking like he’s in deep thought. 

“Kuina and the others probably joined a Clubs game.” you continue. “Maybe we should join one too.”

The thought brings you back to your comrades. It’s possible that they joined a game together—a Clubs game is the safest bet if they all want to live. Maybe it’s what you and Chishiya can do too. 

“We’ll join the Queen of Clubs. It’s the nearest clubs game.” The man beside you finally speaks, his voice a little tired. 

You agree, nodding lightly. You spun to your side with your back facing him as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Goodnight, Chishiya,” you mumble, still not being able to call him by his first name. He doesn’t answer but you hear him subtly hum in response. 

The sun was setting when you and Chishiya reach the arena. 

After a bit of walking, your mouth drops as you realize that the Queen of Clubs blimp is hovering over a high school building. Specifically, the prestigious high school you and Chishiya attended. 

“How fitting,” Chishiya reacts with a bored tone.

Sometimes, you feel like the games are catered to the players. Like they know all your life stories. This high school being the game arena, is it to your advantage or disadvantage? Whatever it is, you have no choice but to find out. This is your first game in the second stage, and it’s a Clubs game. If the two of you work with other players well, the chance of survival is high. 

That should be the mindset for the numbered games but right now, you weren’t sure because these are face card games. If the numbered games were difficult as it is, you should be terrified and ready for the face cards. 

“I can go in alone,” you suddenly say, afraid to go in there together with him. 

“You’re kidding,” he scoffs and walks closer to the entrance. “After all that talk about dying alone?” 

The anxiety that was creeping into your skin would put you at a disadvantage. You know that Chishiya could handle himself but you couldn’t help but be worried for him. Sighing, you shake off the worry and decide to push through with joining the game with him.

You enter the arena first and look back. Chishiya stares at you for a few seconds, as if contemplating or memorizing your face. And then he follows you inside. What was that?

The other players were gathered in front of the building, right on the grass field. There were about six people there already. Chishiya followed you inside but didn’t walk beside you or near you. It was probably to not make people assume you know each other. On top of a table were metal cuffs that had a screen, looking like a smartwatch. From the looks of it, it seems that it was the same material as the collars they make you wear in the other games only this time, they were bracelets.

1 PER PERSON

There were two left when Chishiya and you took yours. You clasp it around your non-dominant hand’s wrist and watch as the game confirms your registration. Looking around, you found the other players looking at you. It made you feel a bit insecure but you’ve been in enough games to know that you shouldn’t let them get to you. It should be the other way around. 

Another hand reaches for a phone on the table and you look up at her. She looks a bit like a high schooler, wearing a skirt from a uniform and a white tank top. She had a bow and arrow on her back. 

Her stare turns into a glare and you frown. It was she who broke eye contact first and stepped away from the table. As she turns around, it was hard not to notice that she was missing a foot, replaced with some kind of metal. She looks interesting to you. 

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE. 

The familiar AI voice of a woman is heard through the campus speakers.

Chishiya crosses his arms, waiting for something to happen next. You look up at the screen that was stationed there. As if on cue, the screen lights up, flashing some kind of silhouette of a woman’s head with a crown. 

DIFFICULTY

Queen of Clubs

GAME

Prom Queen

Rules:

Each classroom has votes for players to collect or challenges for players to complete. 

The players must collect enough points to enter the gym, where the Queen of Clubs will give them one last challenge. 

The votes are transferable to another player but physical assault and force transfer of votes to another player is not allowed. 

If the player does not complete the challenge in the room, the room takes their votes. 

No weapons allowed inside the building.

CLEAR CONDITION

The players must have more votes than the Queen of Clubs and complete her last challenge.

GAME OVER

Players do not gather enough votes to dethrone the Queen of Clubs.

Players do not complete the last challenge. 

TIME LIMIT

02:00:00 HRS

You scoff and remove the Katana from your shoulder, putting it on the table. The other players began to gather around it, putting their weapons with yours. 

GAME START

You look around at the other players. You give them a nod. 

“Alright. Let’s meet by the gym doors after we collect all points,” a man who has glasses said. He wore stripe shirts and was fairly tall. He seemed smart and gave the impression of a leader. It doesn’t look like he’s physically fit, though. 

The other players do not waste time, scurrying into the building with determination and a little bit of fear. You stayed behind for a few seconds, looking at Chishiya. He stares back at you with no expression on his face and heads into the building.

There was the girl who had a bow and arrow, still looking at you. You give her a nod. It didn’t look like she could be trusted but this is a Clubs game, after all. You have to work together to survive. She doesn’t give you the same attitude as earlier. Instead, she approaches you, giving you a nod back. 

“Akane Heiya,” she introduces herself to you.

“Y/N L/N,” you reply with your name. 

The two of you enter the building together, cautious of the darkness that plagues it. You pick up the small flashlight from your belt bag. You can hear the scrambling of the foot of the other players, no doubt racing to get to the classrooms faster.  “The rules didn’t say how much we need, so maybe we can go and check the gym and see if there’s a clue?” you ask her. 

“I’ll go check,” she tells you.

“You sure?” you ask her, wanting to know if she doesn’t need a companion. 

She nods. “One of us should help collect votes.” 

As soon as you nod, she was already on her way to look for the gym. You decide to head to the nearest classroom without a player in it already. 

You stand before a classroom door that has a red light on it. You assume that if the votes in this classroom haven’t been collected, its red light is still on. 

It wasn’t dark inside the classroom, the sun has almost set all the way but there was still a bit of light seeping through the windows of the room. As you step in, the door shuts behind you. You panic for a bit, checking the door knob if it still works. You groan when you realize that you’re shut in. 

The lights of the classroom turned on and a tv screen that was in the middle of the chalkboard flashes a question. 

In printing, it’s the color black. In chemistry, it’s potassium. In baseball, it’s a strikeout. Which letter is it?

It was an easy question but there were about maybe forty classrooms in this school. There are nine players. If your hunch was right, there should be a difficulty level or random variation of the difficulty of the challenges on each floor, there are eight classrooms. You were on the first floor. 

“K,” you answer confidently. 

The room speakers gave out a ‘ding’ sound and some kind of button on the teacher’s desk lights up a green color and you walk towards it. You hesitantly press it and your wrists light up with a green color. 

+ 50 votes

You hear the lock of the door click open and you step out. You look up at the light on the door and see that the previous red light has been shut off. 

Walking down the hallway, some girl who looked like she was in her thirties, wearing office attire approaches you. “How many votes did you get?” she asks, pointing at her wrist. 

“50,” you reply. 

Another man completes his room and hears what you were talking about, approaching you two.  “It was hidden in one of the lockers at the back. I got 50 too.” 

You nod at them. “It seems that this floor is just full of 50 votes per room.”

Not wasting any more time, you and the others who have completed your rooms head to the second floor. Chishiya was already on the second floor, stepping outside one of the rooms. You approach him. “How many votes in this one?” you ask. 

He shows his wrist, flashing the number on his band. 75. Just as you thought.

“So the floors are kind of the levels, huh?” The man in the striped shirt asks you. You nod. 

“There isn’t a goal of votes by the gym.” 

All of you turn your heads to the source of the voice. Heiya stood there, her chest heaving from the running. You don’t doubt that she was tired—the gym was a bit of a walk from the classrooms. You probably should’ve told her that.

“That must mean we should clear all the rooms.” A woman with a crossbody bag spoke up, joining all of you. 

“Then let’s do that,” the man in the striped shirt speaks again. 

You and the other players moved as quick as you can. You learned that when you don’t succeed with their mini games inside the classrooms, you’re lasered down and another player has to go to that classroom to finish the task.

In the end, it was six of you who lasted. 

The first floor has eight rooms opened with 50 votes each. The second has eight rooms and 75 votes each. The third floor has three rooms with 100 votes each. The fourth floor has two rooms with 150 votes each. Lastly, the fifth floor had one room with 400 votes. 

Together, you accumulated 2000 votes. However, it was separated from your wrists. When you reached the gym, whenever you tried, it would show ‘error’ on the electronic lock. 

It had to be 2000 on one wrist.

“That means… only one of us gets to go inside?” A girl with a headband says, her eyes looking scared. 

You furrow your brows, thinking. “The game said we only need to dethrone her with more votes. Only one needs to do her challenge and then the game should clear.”

“Right,” a man in a plain white shirt replies. “This is a Clubs game. That should be the case.” 

“Okay, so who will go?” The woman in office attire asks, her voice trembling a bit.

Each one of you stares at each other, feeling each other out like teenagers afraid of a graded recitation in class. You don’t blame them, you don’t know what exactly the challenge would ask of you. 

“I’ll go,” Heiya rolls her eyes impatiently, holding out her wrist as she waits for the other players to move. 

“No. Most of the rooms’ challenges are about intellect. It should be me,” stripe shirt complained. Now you know what irks you about this man, he was controlling and stupidly wants to be seen as somewhat of a main character. 

Heiya glares at him. “So what? You think you’re the smartest in the room?” She bites, raising her brows. You try your best not to laugh at her accusation and lightly strike your elbows to her side, telling her to tone it down.

“That’s not what I meant,” the man replies, offended and furrowing his brows.

“The challenge wouldn’t be about intelligence,” For the first time in the game, Chishiya finally speaks, making all the other players’ heads turn to him. 

He shows everyone a piece of paper in his hands. 

The Ivy Award 2020 — Yamada Asaki

No way, could it be?

“After the rooms were cleared per floor, the lights turned on but kept flickering. It made up a morse code. The first floor is I, the second floor is V, and the third floor is Y.” He makes his way near the circle, showing everyone the paper that turned out to be a certificate. “And then I found this on the fourth floor, confirming the morse code.”

“What is this supposed to be?” The man in stripe asks, a bit irritated. 

Chishiya stares at him, giving him all his focus with dark eyes. “In the classrooms of the fifth floor, there were shelves containing the awards of this awardee. The Ivy Award was a special award this high school gave to those who excelled in all athletics in the school while maintaining top grades.” 

Chishiya pauses, now shifting his eyes to yours. You look away and avoid his gaze. “There are only two people who received that award in this school.” 

“Yamada Asaki,” he looks down at the paper in his hand. “And Y/N L/N.” His gaze goes back to you, communicating a million words in one simple stare.

You froze at the mention of your name. Heiya, in her tall stature, looks down at you. “You?” she asks in disbelief and a smirk. 

You glare at Chishiya, not understanding why he dropped your name and history out of nowhere. Then you look at Heiya who was waiting for your response.

“That’s true,” you admit, looking down at your feet. 

“In fact, she was the first awardee—the reason why the award was made in the first place.” Chishiya gives you a smirk. 

You still remember when you were awarded that day. The school made the award for you for the sole reason that universities around the world were contacting them to take you in as their athlete on full scholarship. They were scrambling for your hand in college.

Your father rejected all of them. He used all his power to stop you from going.

Up till now, the award was a topic you don’t like talking about. It was hard for you to remember how much you were controlled and manipulated into staying in Japan. 

“The person you’ll be facing,” He puts his eyes back on the man in the striped shirt. “Is a master of all sports and martial arts. Do you think you could handle that?” 

The man in the striped shirt couldn’t answer. 

Just like that, the other players began giving you their votes. You stand there quietly as they hover their cuffs on yours. This would mean… everyone’s life here is depending on you. 

Chishiya took the last turn in giving you his votes. He grabs your limp wrist with his right hand and hovers his cuff on yours. Your eyes are shaking in anxiety as you’re still staring at the floor. You've fought wildly when only your life is in your hands. That’s because you know that you have nothing to lose. You’ll gladly die if it’s your time to die. But right now, you have to live for these people.

“What?” he whispers. 

You finally look up into his eyes, meeting his deep stare. 

The other players watch as Chishiya leans in, whispering something in your ear. This causes you to freeze, looking up at him with awe. 

He spins you around, making you face the door. His hands are still on your shoulder when he leans in. 

He whispers in your ear again, sending shivers down your spine. For some reason, it sounded genuine. He wasn’t trying to manipulate you into going. He was motivating you, maybe even pleading. 

You turn your head to look at him, his face inches away from yours. From here, his eyes burned with something you don’t understand. There was a slight crease on his forehead that relaxed when you gave him a smile.

“Wait for me, will you, Shuntarou?” 

It was the first time you saw Chishiya smile in Borderland—and actually smile and not smirk in a condescending manner.

“You can do it,” Akane nods at you, her arms crossed. You look at her, smirking. You’ve only known the girl for an hour but you already like her. 

The other players began motivating you and you gave them all a glance before hovering your cuff on the lock of the door.

The lock dings and the door unlocks by itself. You twist the knob open, revealing the darkness of the room. 

You give one last glance to Chishiya whose eyes never left yours. You walk inside, your eyes never leaving his. He has long abandoned the smile on his face, replacing it with his famous poker face. His eyes, however, stayed expressive as if telling you’ll be fine in his own way.

The night should’ve been everything you dreamed about. 

Chishiya fetched you, wearing his suit and tie that matched your dress. The hotel venue that the school rented turned out to be designed beautifully. Everything was perfect.

If it weren’t for what you learned last night.

You acted like everything is fine, dancing with your friends as Chishiya sat on the side. To get him to come, he made a deal that he wouldn’t dance until the last. You agreed, only wanting to dance the last slow dance with him. 

Chishiya must’ve already realized something is wrong because you haven’t looked at him for more than five seconds all night. It was weird. You really wanted to be here with him yet you can’t even ask him what he thought about the food. You know that it wasn’t his fault. You were the one who approached him first and began pursuing him. He wasn’t exactly actively trying to manipulate you as your father wanted. 

But he knew. He knew what your parents wanted. 

And you, you were left in the dark again. 

The doors of the gym shut with a loud thud, leaving you in blinding darkness. 

“I hoped you would come,” it was a girl’s voice from the end of the room. 

The lights turn on and you squint your eyes as the sudden change blinds you for a second. When your eyes adjust to the brightness, you see a girl not older than a high school kid. She was wearing a black bodysuit and a crown, sitting on what looks to be like a throne on the stage. 

“You’re Yamada Asaki?” you ask, raising a brow. 

“and you’re Y/N L/N,” she replies, a smirk plastered on her face.

She stands from her throne, crossing her arms as she walks down the stage. “You know, when I heard that you’re here, I had this game designed just for you.” 

“Designed?” your eyes never leave her as you frown. These games are designed by people? 

You were curious but she ignores your question. “I wanted to see what’s so great about you.” The bitter tone of her voice doesn’t pass by you. It was clear that this girl doesn’t like you.

“Do you…” Her voice was deadly like it could cut like a sharp knife. Her eyes were focused on you like a target. “Do you know how miserable you made me feel?”

“Obviously not,” you replied with sarcasm, not giving into her sentiments. It would be better not to waste time, you only had 10 minutes left to clear the game. 

The girl audibly scoffs so you continue. “I don’t know the reason nor do I care. Tell me the challenge and we can get this over with.” 

Asaki’s gaze burn through yours as she removes the crown on her head and throws it on the ground. “The crown is worth 50 votes,” she says, eyes not leaving yours and showing you the cuff on her wrist, 2020 votes, the year she won her award. “You get it if you beat me in a fight.” She puts herself into a stance, getting ready to fight. 

“Fine,” you answer, throwing your belt bag across the floor and cracking a few bones of your knuckles. “Are there any rules?” 

It’s all bullshit. You know there are no rules in a fight for your life. This is a fight. But still, you ask. It wouldn’t hurt to know if there are. 

You read her stance. She’s good, guarded and ready. From her built, it’s clear that she’s experienced. She must be an athlete from her younger years like you. It’s a no brainer, if she’s a receiver of the Ivy Award, then she has been trained like you. 

“Rules? There are no rules. No stopping until one of us dies.” Her arrogance was something you take note of. It seems that her confidence is one of her biggest traits. For now, you need to see what she can do. 

She attacks first, swinging a fist at your face. You block it and attack with a fist, to which she follows up with a guarding technique of her arms. You move away but she follows that technique with a kick. You dodge her foot by crouching, all while staring at her with burning eyes.

Kickboxing. 

It’s the closest to modern-day MMA. From what you saw, this girl is a striker. 

You launch forward, heading for her middle. It was fast but she was able to raise her knee which you avoid. Good. She’s good. But what about her footwork? 

Pivoting your front foot, you shot your rear leg out and aim at her middle again. She quickly steps away, leaving your foot hitting nothing but the air. Great. Her footwork is good too. You jump back to your feet, raising your fists and moving away from her in a quick motion. 

“Taekwondo?” She smirks, her eyes giving you a condescending look as if she’s about to laugh. “It was your favorite, wasn’t it?”

How did she know that? This girl… just who was she and what have you done for her to know you like this?

“So you’ve studied me?” you ask with a smirk, feigning your curiosity.

“Day and night,” she replies. “I watched all your tournaments,” she jabs, you avoid. “Your championships,” she kicks, you block. “Your training,” she swings, you move away. “All because they wanted me to be like you!” She lunges forward and you let her, she grasps the back of your head and gives you a knee strike, hitting you right in the stomach.

You free yourself from her hold, stumbling and landing a few steps from her when she lets go. She laughs like a maniac. 

“You’ve become rusty,” she spats. 

“Come on,” you raise your fists into a stance once again. “I haven’t even started,” you say and give her a grin. 

Her forehead creases as she furrowed her brows, eyes blazing. So her favorite’s kickboxing. You know what to do. Her footwork’s great, her kicks and punches are strong too, it would be dangerous if she attacks you like she did last time. Front kicks are one of their best attacks. 

You attack diagonally, catching her off guard. You throw a punch and it lands straight to her face. A kickboxers’ weakness is defending an attack coming diagonally. You have to get close to her. 

You attempt to throw punches hastily, making her dodge away again and again until you corner her to a wall. She takes this as a chance to hold the back of your neck again with both hands, catching you in a Thai Clinch. Just like before, you know she’d throw you a knee strike. 

Before she could raise her knee, you put both her arms in your hold tightly, preventing her to move. Using your elbow, you give her a strike to her jaw with the single intent to create the worst damage possible. Your jab connected with a crack and you know you broke her jaw. Once the move made her lose focus, you repeatedly take a jab at her, one punch after another. 

Blood sputters out of her mouth and she spits as you move away again. You were pretty sure you saw a tooth fall out. 

“Forfeit,” you order and her bloodshot eyes gave nothing to you but hatred. You match her threatening gaze. “Before I kill you.” 

“Are you kidding?” There’s blood in the corners of her mouth from your punches yet she stands strong. 

“Seven years,” she looks up to the ceiling, tears lining up her eyes. “For seven fucking years, I was told that I should be like you.” You’ve known since she greeted you that there’s something that lies here deeper. But who cares? So she’s been forced to work hard for the award, how is that your fault?

“And you failed,” you bluntly state, eyes devoid of emotion. 

Her eyes widened in disbelief of your words. She scoffs, tears threatening to spill as she glares at you with resentment. “Failed? I won your award. I did it all!”  

An ill feeling fills your stomach as she bares herself. She had become too emotional. One thing you learned about fighting is that your opponent doesn’t care. A real opponent goes straight for the kill. This… is nothing but a sparring session. 

“So? After that, what did you do?” you ask, titling your head. 

You rush forward, spinning around and straightening your legs to kick her head mid-air. Asaki was pulled of her feet violently and thrown across the floor. She slides along the gym floor, halting just a few inches away from the wall. 

“Stand up and tell me,” you instruct her as you land. You wait for her to recover, her forehead bleeding from the impact of your kick. 

Rage colored Asaki’s vision red as she uses her arms to push herself back up. “I…” It was a weak attempt, she couldn’t even sputter out the words. Her chest heaves up and down as she stands to her feet, for a moment, you thought she was gonna puke but she recovers. “I died.”

She snarled and rushes towards you and you await her attack, ready to counter it. Mid-air she raises her fist and you raise your hand, catching her burning fists in yours. However, she uses this misdirect to knee the wound of your thigh. You grunt, taking in the pain and trying not to let it falter you. 

“You haven’t…” you grit through your teeth and use your free hand in attempt to smash it to her face. Asaki manages to block this, locking your arm and jabbing your stomach repeatedly. Using her strong hold from locking you, you jump and use both of your free legs to kick a blow to her stomach, sending you both flying away from each other and hitting the floor. 

You don’t waste any time, jumping to your feet and launching yourself to her body on the ground. You put her in a chokehold, jabbing at her face repeatedly as you sit on her stomach.  “Dying? That’s your reason?” You say to her ear. She spins, making you land on her back. You lock her with your legs, grabbing her hair to raise her head. “Give me something better.” 

You free her from your hold, jumping away from her range. 

When she fully stands up, you throw a kick as the same time as her. Her left leg hits your outer right thigh and you hit her inner right thigh. She staggers because of this and you use the opportunity to jab three heavy hits to her head. Right. Left. Right. Her head has been hit enough for it to be fatal and she falls to her back. 

Cleverly, she uses her legs and feet to block your attacks. You push through, using your body weight to receive the attacks from her legs. She locks you in with her legs on either side of your torso. You let her. If you try to escape, she’ll just lock your head. 

In the underground, you’ve fought men and women of different weights. It was often that you were underestimated because of your height and weight. So, you let them think you were weak. But what they don’t know is you got them right where you wanted them—close enough for you to kill.

You use both your hands to block hers, smashing her wrists on the floor. Then, you smash your head against hers. That doesn’t stop you. You use your elbows once again, landing one blow after another. You don’t stop even after you see her face covered in blood. 

When her hands lay limp with no force, you take a hand off and use this to grip her neck. 

She struggles to breathe from your hold but you don’t let her. If you were inside a stage, a referee would’ve stopped you by now. But that’s not the case for you. Not for a long time. 

“Where did you go last night?” 

Chishiya asks as soon as you sit down beside him in the room. You ignore him, pretending you don’t hear him because of your earphones. He’s talking about the last dance. When he wasn’t looking, you slipped away from the venue and escaped. You left your bag with him and he only noticed when he couldn’t find you in the crowd anymore. You couldn’t help it, you were overwhelmed by your father and Chishiya. Not only is he controlling your career but he’s controlling your relationships too? 

You took a cab ride away from the hotel, still wearing your gown. You told the driver to just drive around and he did. In the ride, you spot a neon signage. It was a club you always see. It had an interesting name; Sarutahiko.

You’ve seen cars come and go there. What you’ve noticed is they all seemed to be very wealthy. You asked for the car to stop by near and without thinking, you made your way into the club, clutching a wealthy man’s arm and pretending to be his date. 

That night, instead of being in Chishiya’s arms for the last dance, you won your first fight in the underground. The beloved dress you had made for thousands of dollars, they were ripped and worn when you came home, dirt and scratches running along your skin. 

It was the first time you felt it—the euphoria.

When you fought with no rules and no holding back, nothing mattered. You weren’t the beloved athlete that has a bright future ahead of her as an heir of the L/N family. You were just Y/N, or as the underground calls you, 極真 王女 (Kyokushin Ojo; trans: Ultimate Truth Princess; “Kyokushin” is a type of Karate)

Like a princess, you entered the arena in your sparkling gown and destroyed your opponent in five minutes. It was then and there that you decided, you will no longer fight your father’s opposition to your sports. This will be your life and your death. 

A life with Chishiya, it’ll be a privilege. You like him… and with his and your father’s deal, you’ll be able to live your other life in peace. Fine, you’ll play the part of the pretty spoiled princess. 

Chishiya doesn’t press further but from your lack of luster in your eyes, he understood that something died inside you that day. From then on, you dropped all your sports and didn’t fight your father’s refusal to all the universities that wanted to scout you even if they offered medical studies in exchange for your athletic participation.

If there was one thing you regret, it was you and Chishiya never had your last dance. 

You feel it again. The euphoria running through your veins. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Even if you hear the taps, don’t stop. 

Asaki gasps for air, her face reddening as her wide eyes scream for help. You don’t notice this, darkened eyes not even showing mercy or any emotion. You’ve been completely shut off and in auto pilot as you throw one punch and another.

Why should you? Your father never stopped. 

“N-no!” 

Asaki pushes you off with all her strength, sending off her body. You’re quickly on your feet again, ready to attack as your opponent catches her breath. Asaki sprang of her hands, throwing herself in to a spin that showed off a gymnast’ skill. Like a whirling tornado, she was too fast for you to block or counter-attack. 

She doesn’t kick your head and instead kicks your side. You were thrown across the floor, skiddling and tumbling. A groan escapes your lips at the pain that shot through your ribs, adding to the pain of your thigh.. Yeah, your ribs are definitely cracked. 

“You said you’ll protect me,” Chishiya whispers in a low voice, you were sure only you could hear it. You did say it back there in the furniture shop.

He spins you around, making you face the door. His hands are still on your shoulder when he leans in. 

“Protect me,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. For some reason, it sounded genuine. He wasn’t trying to manipulate you into going. He was motivating you, maybe even pleading. 

I’m sorry, Asaki. 

You sprang to your feet, ignoring the screaming pain of your ribs. You face your opponent once again, the same distance from when you started. But this time, something was different. In your opponent’s hands, was a butterfly knife. 

She was smirking at you like she finally got you. She’s an idiot. 

“Fine,” you huff, giving her an equally sinister grin. “You studied all my moves in high school.” You put yourself in a fighting stance again. “I’ll give it to you. You’re a great fighter. You know all the moves, techniques, and all that shit.” 

“You did all that research about me… yet you didn’t ask why I stopped?” You don’t even glance once at her weapon again. “Pathetic.” 

She lunges with a scream, swinging the knife at you. 

You stepped in, closing the gap between you and Asaki, dodging her weapon and striking her upper and lower arm. As your strike clashes with hers, the force makes her arm holding the weapon go limp. You grab her arm, twisting it until her hand is pointed towards the ceiling. 

With Asaki’s chest unprotected, you pivot and strike her with your elbow and then your foot to her leg. She loses balance and you use this to take the weapon from her hand. 

In a swift motion, you swing the weapon, slashing her across the face. Crimson red drips from her already blooded cheek, adding to the wound on her forehead. She puts a hand to her face, finally executing fright for the first time in the fight.

And then you understand.

The career she wanted instead of the Ivy Award—it was beauty. 

Instead of the Ivy Award, she wanted to be prom queen. Life wasn’t for her but she was thrusted into it too. It was so simple and yet you were blinded by the game to notice. You understood. A slash to the face was hard to cover especially if it scars. You were very careful about your face when you fought in the underground. 

You feel bad but who were you to be a saint? 

You strike a blow to her stomach with your foot, sending her staggering a few steps back. Her focus is still on the wound on her face. She has completely dropped her guard and looked like a simple high school girl who was attacked out of nowhere. 

“You were right,” you say as you throw the knife away. “Taekwondo was my favorite. I still use ITF from time to time.” 

She was not even guarded yet you continue. One straight powerful jab to the center of her chest. She accepts the attack but doesn’t fall down, eyes widened and coughing at the force of the attack. 

“The reason why I stopped competing… was because I found something better.”

Asaki backs away, feeling an unexplained fright. She knows something has shifted as you stride towards her with blazing eyes. Even your walk seemed powerful, exerting an aura of strength and power. 

Kyokushin Karate… is the strongest martial art in the world.

Its sole goal is defeating its opponent. Different from Taekwondo at its very core, it’s focused on real fights. There’s no protective gear, just pure hand-to-hand combat. 

Those who practice Kyokushin as a martial art, they’re unfamiliar with attacks aimed at the head. But not you. The only reason attacks aimed at the head are banned in Kyokushin Karate is because…

There were too many casualties. 

You send a straight punch to Asaki’s face, her head receiving the full force impact of your fist. 

You swing your right arm, hitting her across the jaw. Asaki tries to kick your side as a counter attack but you dodge. 

If your right arm’s not enough, use your left.

You swing your left arm this time, hitting her cheek and you actually feel her teeth through your fist. Even as you hit her, Asaki uses her hand to slap you across the cheek. You’re thrown off, so you spin and kicked off your legs.

If your left arm isn't enough, use your legs. 

The heel of your feet strikes the junction of her neck and shoulder, sending her kneeling on the floor with a loud thud. 

You tackle her down like you did before, with your legs on either side of her torso, she could only watch as you repeat your move from before.

And if your legs don’t cut it, use your head. 

You smash your head with hers with a loud thud and she goes into shock, eyes wide open as she could no longer move. Her body stills underneath you as she stares up at nothingness. 

The spirit of Kyokushin Karate… is a person’s strong will that is never broken.

2 MINUTES LEFT

“That’s…” Her eyes remained unmoving. “Karate.”

Tired, you stand up as she still lays still on the ground, broken bones and wounded face. 

“You’ve done well,” you mumble but you’re sure she can hear. You wipe the blood on her face but it does nothing but spread it. You see her face clearly even with the blood. She was pretty with an innocent face now that she’s put down her guard and hatred.  “You can rest now, beautiful.” 

And finally, the tears spill out of her eyes and she cries. She cries and cries until they turn into sobs. She cried like the kid that she is, hungry for love—hungry for someone to listen to her. It was all too familiar. You know the feeling all too well. 

Walking away from her cries, you pick up the plastic piece of crown. It was silver and had pink stones all around it. 

Limping to the stage, you make your way to the prop throne. You sit down on it and groan at the feeling of resting your beat up body.

1 MINUTE

You place the crown on your head and place your bloodied fists on either sides of the arm rests. The cuff on your wrists flash with a sound and a green light.

+ 50 votes

It was followed by a ding and the girl’s automated voice.

CONGRATULATIONS

GAME CLEAR

And then you see it, the laser coming down from the sky and onto Asaki’s skull. 

Stepping out of the gym, you find the other players waiting for you silently. They seemed to be looking up at something so you follow their gaze. 

There was a camera. All that happened back there, they saw it.

You stood there in silence, waiting for something to happen next. Their gaze falls on you with your burnt knuckles and the plastic crown on your head. These people, they looked at you with fright in their eyes. It was a familiar look—the audience’s disbelief when you don’t hold yourself back. 

“Great job,” Heiya was the first one to approach you with a smirk, putting a hand on your shoulder. It was her and Chishiya who didn’t look scared of you.

You smile, giving her a nod. 

Just like that, the other players began giving you their thanks. Out of nine people, six of you survived. They all thanked you, the girl in the headband even hugging you. 

All six of you walk out of the game, looking up as the Queen of Clubs’ blimp self-destructs with explosion. Beside you, Chishiya is also looking up, smirking. He was properly beautiful. 

Arisu asked you what made you like this man so much and you told him it was because Chishiya grounds you. You never really knew how to explain it until now. 

When you were fighting in the underground, it was brutal. It was your way of feeling pain–to feel alive. If you didn’t have Chishiya in your life, you would’ve stayed in the underground forever. But Shuntaro, he gives you a reason to come back to your life. 

So you can annoy him. 

You were back in the apartment with Chishiya after you searched for some medical supplies for your injury. As always, he was silent. 

“You can shower if you want,” Chishiya breaks the silence, pulling you off your thoughts while you sat on the couch. You nod and leave him alone in the living room. 

After you shower, you wore a plain white shirt  and some lounge shorts you found in one of the drawers. When you step out of the room, Chishiya still wore the clothes he had outside but he stood over portable stove, stirring what smelled to be like instant noodles. 

He sees you and carries the pot over to the table. The table is already set. 

You never thought you’d see the day, Domestic Chishiya. A malewife. You place a hand over your mouth, preventing the smile on your face from forming. Instead, your face contorts into a funny face, earning a glare from Chishiya. 

“Are you just going to stand there or eat?” He deadpans. 

You bite your lips, shutting yourself up and made your way to the table. “Thank you for the food,” you said, sincerely. He scoffs, sitting across from you.

The two of you ate quietly, you slurp the ramen noodles like its your last meal. It wouldn’t be so bad. Instant Ramen by Chishiya. You giggle in your head, a smile spreading on your face. 

When you finish your food, you opted to wash the dishes while Chishiya showers. Looking around, the apartment, you found something really cool—a record player. You inspect it and it looks like it’s the kind that doesn’t need electricity. Your heart swells with excitement, searching for vinyls around the place. You found a box inside the room filled with it and you clap to yourself happily.

“No way,” you react when you turn a knob and found it actually works. 

“What’s that?” Chishiya walks in the living room, his jacket long abandoned and wearing a shirt and lounge shorts. Did he match what you were wearing? 

“It’s the only thing he has,” he defends himself even when you haven’t said anything.

You pause, thinking if you should say anything but you ignore it, remembering your brilliant discovery. “Look! It’s a record player!” 

He sighs. “You’ll only attract others with the sound.” 

Your face fell. “Then I’ll beat them up.” You ignore his protests, going over to him and grabbing his hand to pull him over to the record player. He follows you limply, bored and annoyed as always. 

You’re not very familiar with the vinyls so you just grab one with a familiar name, Nat King Cole. You placed it on the record player, figuring out how it plays. It began playing but it was too fast. You look up at Chishiya with wide eyes, wondering what you did wrong. He sighs, reaching over to some tiny lever on the turntable and pushing it to number 33. 

“It’s the wrong speed,” he tells you.

The song began playing at a normal speed and you grin widely. 

It was a slow love song and an idea pops into your mind. 

“You know, something popped into my mind back there,” you face your friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. He stills but doesn’t remove your hand. 

When I fall in love, it will be forever Or I’ll never fall in love

“We never got to finish our last dance back in high school,” you say with a smirk. “And you promised.” 

Surprisingly, Chishiya doesn’t argue. So, you place your other hand around his neck, connecting it with your other hand. You pull him closer, his face inches away from yours. From here, you can see his face clearly. His eyelashes that flutter as he blinks, the creases of his forehead when he scrunches his brows slightly, his lips that were ever so slightly parted. He stays quiet, eyes on your face as if memorizing it like what you were doing to his. 

You brought down your hands to place his on your waist and again, he surprisingly doesn’t remove them. You place your hands back to where they belong, pulling him in again. You started to sway with the music, willing Chishiya to do the same. 

“I’m sorry.” The words come out of his mouth like air. If you weren’t close enough, you wouldn’t have heard it. Heat rushes to your face as your eyes widen. Did you really just hear Chishiya apologize to you?

Your shock melts into a tightlipped smile. “You’re just going to have to make it up to me by loving me forever.” It was a reference to the song that was playing. 

He scoffs at your cheesy words. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Love. It’s a privilege. You know that you two aren’t children made by love. It’s the reason why you two find it so hard to believe that love exists. Chishiya no doubt finds it harder to believe. He doesn’t understand the sentiment–the romance. 

“Fine. Tell me,” he mumbled. You stare back at him, unsure of what he means. His eyes were steady, focused on you and begging in his own way. It takes years of experience to notice the subtle changes of emotion his face makes and your heart swells at the slight tremble of his lips. “Tell me what to do instead.” 

Your brows slightly furrow, cheeks reddening and eyes glossy. When he’s not showcasing his intelligence and mischief, Chishiya is a man of few words. As your eyes are locked on each other, you bare yourself open into nothingness. Nothing mattered, not the games, not even the meaning of life. It was neither warm nor cold. Looking into Chishiya’s eyes was like looking into a mirror you cannot escape and yet you’d like to drown in them. 

“Worship me,” you proposed in a commanding manner, finding confidence in yourself and what you feel for him.

“Worship?” he asks with a confused and amused tone in his voice. 

“Love is overrated. Worship me instead.” 

And he smirks, pulling your waist closer. His lips touch yours and your world exploded. There weren’t fireworks, no sparks… it’s just felt like summer day. A bright sky, lighting up the road as the breeze hits your skin. His hand is heavy on your waist, your body fully aware of all of him. Your mouth melted into his, everything else is forgotten. The tip of your tongue brushes his and he parts his lips, welcoming you in. You cling unto him, longing more of him. 

And the moment I can feel that You feel that way too Is when I fall in love with you

© wolfvmin. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only in ao3 under the name vantantae. thank you.

[kobblefort]

Blackfaint: Rat World Forever

This is what happens when I click on the "PETITIONS" button, which no doubt is alerting me that the newly established farmers' guild wants a hall. I don't think your average player of the greatest simulation game of all time Dwarf Fortress is ever going to see this. It's kind of cursed, but it's kind of magical. I can't dismiss it, which will drive me crazy since it does that little "shimmering" animation. I suppose I'll just have to assume that making the guild hall nice enough will make it stop. I don't know, I'm not in a hurry to please them. Now if there was a herbalists' guild, though? Those are the guys holding it down.

Another strange mood takes another rat straight to the clothier's shop that made Eeteek go berserk and start the fight that ended in their death. I suppose Vatekeek Learnedmaligns thinks it will be fine for him which in my opinion is the proper rat world attitude.

Also, things were going too well for a minute there, so here come 9 lesser rodent people. I was telling this to someone earlier but I think that rats are pretty cool in real life. Rats are like dogs stuck in rodent bodies basically. But mice are horrible little skittering creeps that will randomly run out from the walls just to die in the middle of your fucking floor like oh do you mind if I randomly die here, if I just roll over and die in the middle of your fucking floor, well I'm going to do it if that's alright, actually me and my 100 little cousins thought it would be cool to just scamper around as fast as possible at 3 AM and then randomly suddenly die, there's no way to get us out besides doing chemical warfare on yourself, blame yourself for living in a garage even though it wasn't your idea and you didn't want to do it. So basically mice fucking suck and the rodent men, naturally, are mice, compared to us, the superior rats. And we're really gonna need to figure out a way to make sure they end up dead on the floor. Which should be totally doab

This sucks man

I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. The violence is fast and extreme and really fucking bad and we don't have nearly enough graves to start burying everyone. The only people who can really fight are the miners, and the mouse people brought actual steel spears this time: that's a huge advantage in range and damage. We're down to 13 rats. Considering I was thinking that we would actually get to 50 and then maybe that would let our rats elect a mayor of some sort which would maybe let me use the Nobles & Administrator screen and its myriad functions, this is a pretty fucking shitty result. I guess worrying about the surface first was the wrong move but honestly it was a blind 50/50 anyway. It might be worth it to just say fuck it and lock off the caverns for a while. There's no way with this few rats that we could easily set up any kind of bulwark, we still have 100-something food, I don't know I'm kinda just feeling pretty gutted over how fast things went to shit like from okay to terrible in an instant, I know I just did that "rat world forever" bit like 30 seconds ago in your time and 30 minutes ago in mine but yeah I'm not feeling it.

This fucking asshole pays me back for being nice and refusing to Cask of Amontillado his ass by flipping out and dragging our population down to 10 so far, maybe more. Even with a copper pick splitting his leg open he still crawls along trying to fight anyone who gets near. He struggles on and on until finally an herbalist Ch'tk Sinscaly who's tired of this shit walks over and strangles him to death.

Wow, I wonder why. Next fortress, workshops are DEFINITELY going to be set up for easy cask-of-amontillado'ing.

This asshole is here now. I don't know. The caverns are already sealed off, so who cares. I've never seen something break through sealed doors, but now I definitely am not going to unseal them. It kills the last few mice in a matter of seconds and then sets about lazing around right by the entrance to the cavern to make sure we never go back in there again.

Yeah come on in guys don't mind the other 10 notifications. Sure we can host some fucking elf poets and shit. Whatever. Is one of you naked? Lol, cool.

Oh yeah don't mind all the bloody fucking warm corpses starting to stink on the ground. Yeah this guy failed to Express Himself so he went around killing people. You get it. Right. Sorry we don't have time to watch you fucking dance or whatever we have to feed and water the grievously injured. But yeah stay as long as you like. Actually you know what though try not to eat too much. Just gonna say it we're not gonna have this food forever.

No Thicivi I don't think it is and you might not actually be a very adequate observer.

This shit happens downstairs which sucks. RIP our first forgotten beast I guess. Gotta watch out for those steel spears man. They're bullshit.

The bodies are just sitting on the floor because we're using the empty tombs for people whose remains we can't recover. I just had an idea, because I hate the caverns now and want all mouse people to suffer. What if we just drowned them. Right? Hear me out. It's a pretty common and kind of grim trap in the real world to drown mice by making them take bait in the middle of a bucket on a thing they fall off of into the bucket. Well what if we brought the bucket to them? And by which I mean dug a bunch more aquifer taps that led straight down into the cavern layer and just flooded it to hell? I think it could be funny. If we were always doomed to never make it here then why not do something fucked up like that.

Look at this face in the cistern. It's like an omen. I didn't make it on purpose but now it's here. Telling me "this is a place of great suffering." And you know what my reaction to that information is? Yeah I hope there's more.

So here it is. An absolute mess of exposed aquifer surface area, leading to little narrow high-pressure tunnels that terminate with one little spigot into the caverns.

And it's working. It's working fast. Yes, I used DFhack to speed it along - two injured miners were not about to hustle on it and I wanted to see it start happening already.

Maybe this was just a party that got out of hand. You know? Maybe this was just a shitty idea. Leaving the warband to settle down? Fuck that. Other people make fortresses. Ratfolk take them. This was never a fortress. This was just a big bucket to drown a bunch of stupid fucking mice in.

The ten of us left can head back to Malignreasons, wherever she's camped now, apologize for our stupid little excursion, take the flogging we're given and go back to doing what ratfolk are really supposed to do. None of our original seven have even survived, besides K'keek Vicescourge, after all - with their untimely deaths they left all the shame and humiliation for us. Rat world was pretty cool for a second there, it really was, but it's time for us to get back to our real lives. Real rat lives.

You can see there in the center, the rodent men scrambling for high ground as the water comes up to their knees. Their home ruined, some of them washed away to be drowned in their cages. Of course it's inhumane, but was the way they jammed us with spears and chopped us with axes humane? Besides, humane? News flash, we're fucking rats!!

Everyone starts filing out. Some head back toward the warband, some just head whereever their feet take them. Everyone but K'keek Vicescourge, who spends a bit more time here. Carving stone coffins that will never actually be filled. The guests just stand in the sad, empty dining hall, completely dumbfounded. And K'keek starts on one last project.

With a ghost at her back, in the worst mood of her life, but still compelled to carve it and place it. The first statue ever made at Blackfaint. And the last one. The only one.

She's ready to go now.

Rat world sucks.

Rat world forever.

[rangerdoubt]

i have yelled at length on discord about stepverse interactions and yet

cut for length and rambling good god but this is going out there because i refuse to be a chicken shit on my own blog

i never thought either miguel or miriam would particularly like any of the other steps. (wrong on miriam’s end--tbf she doesn’t like anyone to begin with, ever, but she truly isn’t that hard to win over, despite her best efforts. absolutely dead correct for miguel--although he is by far more stubborn and less avoidant than i had previously pictured him.) 

but they absolutely do not like each other. i thought maybe perhaps a grudging respect (which is miguel @ elmo weirdly enough) but no. they both think the other one is like--a massive loser lmao.

for one thing, mob boss vs hero hunter: miguel thinks miriam is short-sighted and violent (yes). miri think miguel is cowardly and dependent (also yes). vastly different methods of approach that put both of them off of the other: miguel resents how miriam uhhh just shamelessly rips things up. kicks the shit out of the least important person in the room and leaves. like what in the self-centred shit--? but miri thinks that miguel is just as bad as the people he’s coming after--replacing one with another does nothing. there’s no net improvement, no accountability, just power changing hands as it has for literally forever. how’s that for self-centred? 

both of them are pursuing their own little side plots that are just... running adjacent to the actual issue but by god will neither admit that those are side plots. what a waste of talent, they’ll complain to their respective partners, if they weren’t such a (miri: stuck up asshole/miguel: cruel idiot) i think i would be able to turn them around. 

(it’s worse too because miriam’s not. shy. or polite. when she doesn’t like someone. she’s a wetwork agent, an assassin--fighting is her job and she’s her own best tool. the faster she can get things clear the more effective she is. whereas miguel has shades of social anxiety and is relentlessly, strenuously polite, especially if he doesn’t like somebody. you get around in his world by making friends, and he’s not that good at making contacts to begin with. so he settles for being a powerful asset, and easy to work with--make it hard for people to dislike you, and maybe they’ll keep you around. miguel would have allowed himself to be won over if miriam would just condescend to civility but he makes her skin crawl, not knowing where she stands with him but knowing he’s hiding something.) 

also, miri is very willing to die in whatever form it takes. all of the walls she’s been keeping up between the three selves are collapsing. there is physically no way she can keep all of those plates in the air and get a good emotional ending: she has to drop at least two of the lives. tbh if she lost all three, it might be a relief. and this would not jive well with miguel at all--whose dearest wish is to feel like he belongs to his life. like, not even ask for a better one: he can learn to love the one he has. he wants to feel entirely at home in this body that he’s forged himself. to stop feeling like the world is just a globe on a desk, a ship in a bottle. as a fate step he feels like he’s trying to pull a plane out of a nosedive while accepting that this is just slowing the inevitable crash--trying to fall with a little style. in his eyes, miri’s trying to crash a car that would otherwise have driven straight--on its own even! 

and i think--at the core of it, they’d be soooo so so fuckin envious of each other. like that’s all it is. miguel sees miriam’s drive and independence and intensity of feeling and wonders what that would be like. he loves the crew, but imagine that. being able to go off on your own and trust that it would be fine. imagine believing in something unconstrained by practicality or reason--you’ll make it happen. imagine being swallowed up in someone else’s love or anger or what-have-you, able to be there in that moment instead of somewhere before or after. and then miri’s just. furious with this guy who acts like he can steer anyone around--but can’t he? she says has the strings, and she knows what to do and where to go. but does she? if miriam feels like she’s face down in the puddle of her own life, miguel might as well be walking on water. more than that, all of her kindness is wedged behind some--block or whatever: there’s no time or space for gentleness even if she wanted to, even for the people she loves. she watches miguel deftly fit himself into any team he wants and realizes that he never works alone because he never has to. 

if they were in the same universe, they’d be staring at the unholy mess the other one is making of the the life they dream of, asking each other and asking themselves:

why the fuck are you unhappy?

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I'm so glad oc stood her ground w her mom,boy the ways I wanna torture that bitch!....I.FUCKING.HATE.HER also her sorry for nothing father can also go die,cant tae support her siblings?how much younger are they cant they get married off soon(in 5 years)the whole part where that asshole was saying all that shit about how oc should've been grateful and all my skin fucking crawled,if he's working for gyu then he probably knows about the rape,doesn't everyone in the castle?(they just dont see for

forcing himself as something so bad,and even what she's there for),Ik kai apologized but he also said he's thoughtless without meaning to like yk what no,if you care even a little bit about anyone's feeling but your own then you would actually stfu when your bestfriend is telling you to stop multiple times,even if you still think you're right your bff is someone who's judgement you should take into consideration even if you dont end up changing your mind,this is the only time I didn't like kai

like kai that much,I actually thought wouldn't it be great to just date kai then realizing he's gonna drop dead before you can blink and he might even be similar to lord soobin,soob isnt a bad person as far as we've seen he might even someone's adorable lil bro like kai but he can't protect,he might not want to and kai might,but wouldnt that just make kai stupid. the endind bro,okay there's a good chance he's working for gyu but what if,what if he's just another asshole who'd like a "taste"🤢

also Idk how the smuts with tae will happen if oc is kidnapped(successfully that is)by gyu and his bitchboy. also even tho gyu is calculative and "patient" now do you really think he'll stay this in control himself forever? it might take years but he's gonna abuse her physically too man what do you think? also my last thot is i like tae quite a bit now(even tho i wanna slap him too)i dont know how to stop loving prince gyu but im so disgusted by him lmao

yeah the parents in this story really take the cake huh? taehyun can't help the siblings because they're married already and living with their husbands in lands that the royal family controls. they can't just all up and leave with their entire households and lose everything

idk if jaeyun knows about the rape but this story takes place back when it was the lord's right to be with his female subjects if he pleases and rape wasn't really as well defined as it is now so they probably see it as, while not a good thing, but not as morally reprehensible as it is now. still not an excuse of course but basically they see that oc belongs to the prince anyway and that she's lucky he's even pampering her that much

yeah kai would not be able to hold off gyu lmao really only taehyun or like gyu's father or brother could potentially stand up to him so he'd be fucked. also he's sweet but not really what oc needs. and yeah soobin is not a necessarily bad character but he's protecting his own hide

ughhhh no let's hope it's not 🤢 imagine if he thought that since she's already "ruined" he could have her too

well i made the smut scene happen with gyu without him being physically there so you don't know what i can come up with lmao and yeah you're right. in abusive situations, the abuser doesn't typically just "get better" they always relapse 😕

i can't stop loving him either. i'm the one in the abusive relationship not oc 😭

[ruiination]

@unrealization said: Firmian sighed, rubbing gloved fingers against his temples. "Listen to me, Coello. Even if we are similar in age, we are not similar in experience." There was something about the reckless hyur that transformed Firmian into a teacher every time they spoke. He had been a mentor to several younger children at the orphanage, but there seniority was far more respected. Roi was arrogant, foolish, and prone to throwing himself into unnecessary risk.

"It would be better if you recognized that I am your superior. In both ability, education, and... Well, everything pertaining to magic."

He was no good at guiding someone who did not respect him. He remembered Evie. How she had stood with him when he was first conjuring fire. How she had demonstrated how to control his breathing to stay calm at the sight of it.

He didn't want to see anyone else get burned. Not even Coello.

Roi had learned a long time ago to keep to himself. Not only because it was safer, but because people were usually poor company. So in terms of the guild, he typically did only want needed to be done. Then he left and took other jobs. He wasn't interested in the low levels of destructive magic. He could already dispatch common thugs and pests with fire and ice. What he wanted was beyond that. POWER. He wanted to have enough strength that nothing could ever get close to him. Not beasts or bandits or the godsdamned empire.

And yet, despite his best efforts... Even these supposed students of the arcane saw fit to mingle with each other. Roi even politely indulged them. He didn't come from their world. He figured most would turn their noses up at him if they knew that he had once lived outside the walls of Ul'Dah in the very same encampments they pretended not to see. The very thought made the embers of anger stir in his chest. But he SWALLOWS it.

And then Firmian approached.

He wasn't like the others here. He also seemed to be from somewhere else. He was talented and even Roi could sense the strength in him. Anyone sensitive to aether would. Amber eyes gaze up at the taller man with a muted but still smoldering fury hidden in them. He hated being talked down to. Roi had to fight tooth and nail for every bit of education he got. He had to crawl for anything he could get in this sick world. All for this bastard to come and say he was his better. For a brief moment, he thanked whatever gods might exist that they were in public or else Roi may actually hit the him.

"Noted." He spits the word out. He hated having to talk to people like this. Even more so when they are pretentious and arrogant assholes like Firmian. Even if Firmian was more educated in most things, Roi knew he would eventually surpass him or die trying. He wasn't afraid of the darkness. Of the forbidden. Of danger. He tried to suppress his raging emotions. Always a slave to him, even as he tried to shut them down.

"Did you have a reason to talk to me? Or did you just want to talk down to me?" The hyur held no respect whatsoever for the other. No matter how talented he was.

He crossed his arms over his chest, face settling into a subtle glare at the other. "I don't think you even hold a higher standing than me here, at this point. So please, do tell me if you have something to teach me." His words dripped with sarcasm. He left off the insults that he wanted so badly to call him.

[turnpage]

send me a ✐ for a random sentence starter from my muse (1-1500) — tw: profanity, mild nsfw, long list

generator here quotes compiled from here inspired by

feel free to change to fit your preferences as need.

❨1❩ ❛ They are dreams, but I’m too out of control, I lose myself in them, and I’ve already lost too much to let them take over. ❜
 ❨2❩ ❛ Sometimes human places create inhuman monsters. ❜ ❨3❩ ❛ I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just going to bash your brains in. ❜ ❨4❩ ❛ Monsters are real. Ghosts are too. They live inside of us, and sometimes, they win. ❜ ❨5❩ ❛ The world's a hard place. It doesn't care. It doesn't hate you and me, but it doesn't love us, either. ❜ ❨6❩ ❛ The tears that heal are also the tears that scald and scourge. ❜ ❨7❩ ❛ Pull your act together and just go on. ❜ ❨8❩ ❛ I had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life when there is nothing physically wrong. I hurt all the time. ❜ ❨9❩ ❛ Tough old world, baby. If you're not bolted together tightly, you're gonna shake, rattle, and roll before you turn thirty. ❜ ❨10❩ ❛ Are you sure self-pity is a luxury you can afford? ❜ ❨11❩ ❛ Truth comes out. In the end it always comes out. ❜ ❨12❩ ❛ Living by your wits is always knowing where the wasps are. ❜ ❨13❩ ❛ No matter where you go, the same asshole gets off the plane. ❜ ❨14❩ ❛ We sometimes need to create unreal monsters and bogies to stand in for all the things we fear in our real lives. ❜ ❨15❩ ❛ That’s your job in this hard world, to keep your love alive and see that you get on, no matter what. ❜ ❨16❩ ❛ Human nature, baby. Grab it and growl. ❜ ❨17❩ ❛ God wiped snot out of his nose and that was you. ❜ ❨18❩ ❛ Run away. Quick. And remember how much I love you. ❜ ❨19❩ ❛ How many times, over how many years, have I—a grown adult—asked for the mercy of another chance? ❜ ❨20❩ ❛ I was suddenly so sick of myself, so revolted. ❜ ❨21❩ ❛ You listen to me. I’m going to talk to you about it this once and never again this same way. ❜ ❨22❩ ❛ But those pieces, they’ll never fit just the same way again. Never in this world. ❜ ❨23❩ ❛ Dying is a part of living. You have to keep tuning in to that if you expect to be a whole person. ❜ ❨24❩ ❛ Officious little prick. ❜ ❨25❩ ❛ I’ve been sleepwalking again, my dear. — The plants are moving under the rug. ❜ ❨26❩ ❛ How I wish you were fear. ❜ ❨27❩ ❛ But it was a dreadful kind of curiosity, the kind that makes you peek through your fingers during the scariest parts of a scary movie. ❜ ❨28❩ ❛ All we have is time, you know. An eternity of time. Or shall we end it? Might as well. After all, we're missing the party. ❜ ❨29❩ ❛ We all remember our pleasant dreams more clearly than the scary ones. ❜ ❨30❩ ❛ The way things should be and the way things are hardly ever get together. ❜ ❨31❩ ❛ Got to be regular if you want to be happy. ❜ ❨32❩ ❛ But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. ❜ ❨33❩ ❛ He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none. ❜ ❨34❩ ❛ Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep. ❜ ❨35❩ ❛ It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment's carelessness.  ❜ ❨36❩ ❛ If I had ever believed it, I no longer do. ❜ ❨37❩ ❛ I thought once that gods are the opposite of death, but I see now they are more dead than anything, for they are unchanging, and can hold nothing in their hands. ❜ ❨38❩ ❛ I cannot bear this world a moment longer. ❜ ❨39❩ ❛ I have a better idea. I will do as I please. ❜ ❨40❩ ❛ All my life has been murk and depths, but I am not a part of that dark water. I am a creature within it. ❜ ❨41❩ ❛ You cannot know how frightened gods are of pain. There is nothing more foreign to them, and so nothing they ache more deeply to see. ❜ ��42❩ ❛ When we are young, we think ourselves the first to have each feeling in the world. ❜ ❨43❩ ❛ When I was born, the word for what I was did not exist. ❜ ❨44❩ ❛ But perhaps no parent can truly see their child. When we look we see only the mirror of our own faults. ❜ ❨45❩ ❛ I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. ❜ ❨46❩ ❛ This is what it means to swim in the tide, to walk the earth and feel it touch your feet. This is what it means to be alive. ❜ ❨47❩ ❛ You threw me to the crows, but it turns out I prefer them to you. ❜ ❨48❩ ❛ Yet because I knew nothing, nothing was beneath me. ❜ ❨49❩ ❛ If now I am wise, it is only because I have been fool enough for a hundred lifetimes. ❜ ❨50❩ ❛ You can teach a viper to eat from your hands, but you cannot take away how much it likes to bite. ❜ ❨51❩ ❛ Give me the blade. Some things are worth spilling blood for. ❜ ❨52❩ ❛ I have been old and stern for so long, carved with regrets and years like a monolith. But that is only a shape I’ve been poured into. I do not have to keep it. ❜ ❨53❩ ❛ I wake sometimes in the dark terrified by my life's precariousness, its thready breath. ❜ ❨54❩ ❛ Understanding the world is a matter of keeping very still and showing no emotions, leaving room for others to reveal themselves. ❜ ❨55❩ ❛ Beneath the smooth, familiar face of things is another that waits to tear the world in two. ❜ ❨56❩ ❛ The truth is, men make terrible pigs. ❜ ❨57❩ ❛ My father has never been able to imagine the world without himself in it. ❜ ❨58❩ ❛ This is the grief that makes our kind choose to be stones and trees rather than flesh. ❜ ❨59❩ ❛ Witches are not so delicate. ❜ ❨60❩ ❛ Those who fight against prophecy only draw it more tightly around their throats. ❜ ❨61❩ ❛ I learned that I could bend the world to my will, as a bow is bent for an arrow. I would have done that toil a thousand times to keep such power in my hands. ❜ ❨62❩ ❛ There's the story, then there's the real story, then there's the story of how the story came to be told. Then there's what you leave out of the story. Which is part of the story too. ❜ ❨63❩ ❛ The best way of being kind to bears is not to be very close to them. ❜ ❨64❩ ❛ Life is warped. I'm just in sync. ❜ ❨65❩ ❛ Now it's a whisper from the past. ❜ ❨66❩ ❛ But hatred and viciousness are addictive. You can get high on them. Once you've had a little, you start shaking if you don't get more. ❜ ❨67❩ ❛ Why is it always such a surprise? The moon. Even though we know it's coming. Every time we see it, it makes us pause, and hush. ❜ ❨68❩ ❛ Perfection exacts a price, but it's the imperfect who pay it. ❜ ❨69❩ ❛ What is 'belief' but a willingness to suspend the negatives?  ❜ ❨70❩ ❛ I have scars, inside me. ❜ ❨71❩ ❛ The dead are not entirely dead but are alive in a different way; a paler way admittedly, and somewhat darker. ❜ ❨72❩ ❛ However dark, a darkness with voices in it is better than a silent void. ❜ ❨73❩ ❛ Amazing how quickly the past becomes idyllic. ❜ ❨74❩ ❛ It is another way of saying tough luck. To people you aren’t going to help out. ❜ ❨75❩ ❛ I'm waiting, far off in the future. ❜ ❨76❩ ❛ The only sure camouflage is unpredictability. ❜ ❨77❩ ❛ There are so many of them, and each one of them is doing part of the killing, whether they know it or not. ❜ ❨78❩ ❛ First rule: limit bloodshed by making sure that none of your own gets spilled. ❜ ❨79❩ ❛ I long to swim in liquid moonlight. ❜ ❨80❩ ❛ That's right, I don’t like to be summoned on trivial matters. ❜ ❨81❩ ❛ The part that really made me happy was that you wanted me to be happy. ❜ ❨82❩ ❛ Cut that part out of us: the grinning, elemental malice. Begin us anew. ❜ ❨83❩ ❛ Where there are wars, there will be crows, the carrion-fanciers. And ravens too, the warbirds, the eyeball gourmands. And vultures, the holy birds of yore, old connoisseurs of rot. ❜ ❨84❩ ❛ At last. It's you. ❜ ❨85❩ ❛ No, you will not be cooked on a fire when you die. Because you are not a fish. ❜ ❨86❩ ❛ Take what the moment offers. Don’t close doors. Be thankful. ❜ ❨87❩ ❛ How many others have stood in this place? Left behind, with all gone, all swept away. ❜ ❨88❩ ❛ Is it disapproval or extreme lust? With some men it’s hard to tell the difference. ❜ ❨89❩ ❛ My hair was driving me crazy, but then … I died. ❜ ❨90❩ ❛ Seek and ye shall find, eventually. And you found. You’re right, I don’t dispute that. Sorry. ❜ ❨91❩ ❛ Everything digests, and is digested. ❜ ❨92❩ ❛ My head was once a filing cabinet. Now it’s a flurry of papers, floating on a draft. ❜ ❨93❩ ❛ You cannot keep bumping your head against reality and saying it is not there. ❜ ❨94❩ ❛ I have a feeling that inside you somewhere, there’s something nobody knows about. ❜ ❨95❩ ❛ And if I don’t want to die, I’ve got to start living. ❜ ❨96❩ ❛ The world is a beautiful place. Don’t forget that. And don’t miss it. ❜ ❨97❩ ❛ I was fighting for my life. So I must not want to die. ❜ ❨98❩ ❛ Something’s happening to me, through me, something dangerous and new. ❜ ❨99❩ ❛ It’s taken root, a poison tree; it’s grown, fanning out, vines winding round my gut, my lungs, my heart. ❜ ❨100❩ ❛ We’re interpreters. We’re translators. ❜ ❨101❩ ❛ You’ll notice I’m not asking what made you this way. ❜ ❨102❩ ❛ No family, happy or unhappy, is quite like any other. Tolstoy was chock-fullo’shit. Remember that. ❜ ❨103❩ ❛ We lived in monochrome those nights. ❜ ❨104❩ ❛ You live in a dream. You’re a sleepwalker, blind. How do you know what the world is like? ❜ ❨105❩ ❛ Do you know, if you rip off the fronts of houses, you’d find swine? ❜ ❨106❩ ❛ I stand here in the dark: cold, utterly alone, full of fear and something that feels like longing. ❜ ❨107❩ ❛ The definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again and expecting different results. ❜ ❨108❩ ❛ Not to warm the flesh, but solely to please the eye. ❜ ❨109❩ ❛ Selective emotional detachment. ❜ ❨110❩ ❛ Not for me, or at least not today. ❜ ❨111❩ ❛ Dead but not gone, watching life surge forward around me, powerless to intervene. ❜ ❨112❩ ❛ Do I sound like a hillbilly saying that? ❜ ❨113❩ ❛ Remember, you’ve got your secret weapon. ❜ ❨114❩ ❛ The dream drains away like water. The memory, really. I try to scoop it up in my palms, but it’s gone. ❜ ❨115❩ ❛ My shadow stretches along the carpet, as though trying to detach itself from me. ❜ ❨116❩ ❛ It curls away from me, like blood in water. ❜ ❨117❩ ❛ It’s been so long since I felt the rain. Or wind—the caress of wind. ❜ ❨118❩ ❛ But snow I never want to feel again. ❜ ❨119❩ ❛ Through adversity to the stars. ❜ ❨120❩ ❛ No hero. No sleuth. I am locked in. I am locked out. ❜ ❨121❩ ❛ Thinking hasn't gotten me anywhere so far. ❜ ❨122❩ ❛ The face you give the world tells the world how to treat you. ❜ ❨123❩ ❛ Sometimes I think illness sits inside every woman, waiting for the right moment to bloom. ❜ ❨124❩ ❛ Women get consumed. ❜ ❨125❩ ❛ Sometimes if you let people do things to you, you're really doing it to them. ❜ ❨126❩ ❛ A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort. ❜ ❨127❩ ❛ Safer to be feared than loved. ❜ ❨128❩ ❛ I ached once, hard, like a period typed at the end of a sentence. ❜ ❨129❩ ❛ It's impossible to compete with the dead. I wish I could stop trying. ❜ ❨130❩ ❛ I always feel sad for the girl that I was. ❜ ❨131❩ ❛ Every time people said I was pretty, I thought of everything ugly swarming beneath my clothes. ❜ ❨132❩ ❛ How do you keep safe when your whole day is as wide and empty as the sky? Anything could happen. ❜ ❨133❩ ❛ See, there I am. I told you I lived. I told you I was. ❜ ❨134❩ ❛ Sometimes I think I won't ever feel safe until I can count my last days on one hand. ❜ ❨135❩ ❛ To refuse has so many more consequences than submitting. ❜ ❨136❩ ❛ I'm here. I don't usually feel that I am. ❜ ❨137❩ ❛ I'm tired of dying. ❜ ❨138❩ ❛ What if you hurt because it feels so good? ❜ ❨139❩ ❛ How confusing to live in the shadow of a shadow. ❜ ❨140❩ ❛ Do you ever feel like bad things are going to happen, and you can’t stop them? You can’t do anything, you just have to wait? ❜ ❨141❩ ❛ Sometimes my scars have a mind of their own. ❜ ❨142❩ ❛ Everyone has their own version of a memory. ❜ ❨143❩ ❛ Isn’t a smile a girl’s best weapon? ❜ ❨144❩ ❛ My sense of weightlessness, I think, comes from the fact that I know so little about my past. ❜ ❨145❩ ❛ Do what I want; I might like you. ❜ ❨146❩ ❛ I feel sorry for Persephone because even when she’s back with the living, people are afraid of her because of where’s she’s been. ❜ ❨147❩ ❛ She has never told me she loved me, and I never assumed she did. ❜ ❨148❩ ❛ The sight of it actually does something to you, makes you less human. ❜ ❨149❩ ❛ It infects you. It ruined me. ❜ ❨150❩ ❛ Your health is not a debt you just cancel. The body collects. ❜ ❨151❩ ❛ Men love to put things inside women, don’t they? ❜ ❨152❩ ❛ We can know only that we know nothing. And that is the highest degree of human wisdom. ❜ ❨153❩ ❛ Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the company of intelligent women. ❜ ❨154❩ ❛ The strongest of all warriors are these two — time and patience. ❜ ❨155❩ ❛ If everyone fought for their own convictions there would be no war. ❜ ❨156❩ ❛ There is no greatness where there is not simplicity, goodness, and truth. ❜ ❨157❩ ❛ The whole world is divided for me into two parts: one is she, and there is all happiness, hope, light; the other is where she is not, and there is dejection and darkness. ❜ ❨158❩ ❛ Let the dead bury the dead, but while I'm alive, I must live and be happy. ❜ ❨159❩ ❛ It's not given to people to judge what's right or wrong. People have eternally been mistaken and will be mistaken, and in nothing more than in what they consider right and wrong. ❜ ❨160❩ ❛ You can love a person dear to you with a human love, but an enemy can only be loved with divine love. ❜ ❨161❩ ❛ If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, then all possibility of life is destroyed. ❜ ❨162❩ ❛ We are asleep until we fall in love! ❜ ❨163❩ ❛ I simply want to live; to cause no evil to anyone but myself. ❜ ❨164❩ ❛ Everything I know, I know because of love. ❜ ❨165❩ ❛ Man cannot possess anything as long as he fears death. But to him who does not fear it, everything belongs. ❜ ❨166❩ ❛ If there was no suffering, man would not know his limits, would not know himself. ❜ ❨167❩ ❛ Yes, love, but not the love that loves for something, to gain something, or because of something, but that love that I felt for the first time, when dying, I saw my enemy and yet loved him. ❜ ❨168❩ ❛ How can one be well...when one suffers morally? ❜ ❨169❩ ❛ Kings are the slaves of history. ❜ ❨170❩ ❛ God is the same everywhere. ❜ ❨171❩ ❛ Pure and complete sorrow is as impossible as pure and complete joy. ❜ ❨172❩ ❛ One must be cunning and wicked in this world. ❜ ❨173❩ ❛ We love people not so much for the good they've done us, as for the good we've done them. ❜ ❨174❩ ❛ When one's head is gone one doesn't weep over one's hair! ❜ ❨175❩ ❛ For what, for whom, must I kill and be killed? ❜ ❨176❩ ❛ He did what heroes do after their work is accomplished; he died. ❜ ❨177❩ ❛ Life is too long to say anything definitely; always say perhaps. ❜ ❨178❩ ❛ Everything ends in death, everything. Death is terrible. ❜ ❨179❩ ❛ The distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible, and inevitable. ❜ ❨180❩ ❛ How often we sin, how much we deceive, and all for what? ❜ ❨181❩ ❛ The wolves should be fed and the sheep kept safe. ❜ ❨182❩ ❛ When I was a child, adults would tell me not to make things up, warning me of what would happen if I did. ❜ ❨183❩ ❛ My memory is a patchwork of occurrences, of discontinuous events roughly sewn together: the parts I remember, I remember precisely, whilst other sections seem to have vanished completely. ❜ ❨184❩ ❛ Would it be worse to love someone who is no longer there, or not to love someone who is? ❜ ❨185❩ ❛ Like mirrors stories prepare us for the day to come. They distract us from the things in darkness. ❜ ❨186❩ ❛ It is not that I was credulous, simply that I believed in all things dark and dangerous. ❜ ❨187❩ ❛ Sometimes you do things you regret, but there's nothing you can do about them. Times change. Doors close behind you. You move on. ❜ ❨188❩ ❛ Love will be an impulse that will inspire and ruin in equal measure. ❜ ❨189❩ ❛ He died alone. It don't matter a rat's ass whether there was anyone with him or not. He died alone. ❜ ❨190❩ ❛ It was love, I knew, and it tasted like champagne in my mind. ❜ ❨191❩ ❛ The end of the world is a strange concept. The world is always ending, and the end is always being averted, by love or foolishness or just plain old dumb luck. ❜ ❨192❩ ❛ She was my dream; and if you touch a dream it vanishes, like a soap bubble. ❜ ❨193❩ ❛ Daylight is always safe. ❜ ❨194❩ ❛ If not for death, they'd be content to simply exist, but with death, well, their lives will have meaning. ❜ ❨195❩ ❛ You want to know the future, love? Then wait. ❜ ❨196❩ ❛ There are things in the darkness beneath us that wish us harm. ❜ ❨197❩ ❛ Fairy tales are more than true. Not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be defeated ❜ ❨198❩ ❛ But sometimes you leave blood on your instruments. ❜ ❨199❩ ❛ I'd like to be a wolf. Not all the time. Just sometimes. In the dark. I would run through the forests. ❜ ❨200❩ ❛ You've seen them. They have mouths that twitch, and eyes that stare, and they babble and they mewl and they whimper. ❜ ❨201❩ ❛ They are not mad, or rather, the loss of their sanity is the lesser of their problems. ❜ ❨202❩ ❛ Good a reason for writing as I know: releasing demons, letting them fly. ❜ ❨203❩ ❛ That miserable state in which everything seems flat and of equal importance; when nothing matters, and in which reality seems scraped thin and threadbare. ❜ ❨204❩ ❛ Someone had scrawled graffiti in black marker on the metal: JUST DIE, it said. Like it is easy. ❜ ❨205❩ ❛ Winter started today. The sky turned grey and the snow began to fall and it did not stop falling until well after dark. ❜ ❨206❩ ❛ Memory is the great deceiver. ❜ ❨207❩ ❛ Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way. ❜ ❨208❩ ❛ I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control.  ❜ ❨209❩ ❛ If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. ❜ ❨210❩ ❛ I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other. ❜ ❨211❩ ❛ But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. ❜ ❨212❩ ❛ I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other would have borne it. ❜ ❨213❩ ❛ There are people, who the more you do for them, the less they will do for themselves. ❜ ❨214❩ ❛ One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other. ❜ ❨215❩ ❛ Better be without sense than misapply it as you do. ❜ ❨216❩ ❛ You must be the best judge of your own happiness. ❜ ❨217❩ ❛ Were I to fall in love, indeed, it would be a different thing ; but I have never been in love ; it is not my way, or my nature ; and I do not think I ever shall. ❜ ❨218❩ ❛ Indeed, I am very sorry to be right in this instance. I would much rather have been merry than wise. ❜ ❨219❩ ❛ If I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream. ❜ ❨220❩ ❛ If a woman doubts as to whether she should accept a man or not, she certainly ought to refuse him. ❜ ❨221❩ ❛ Faultless in spite of all her faults. ❜ ❨222❩ ❛ A heroine whom no one but myself will much like. ❜ ❨223❩ ❛ There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart. ❜ ❨224❩ ❛ Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its fragrance on the desert air. ❜ ❨225❩ ❛ I pity you. I thought you cleverer. ❜ ❨226❩ ❛ Evil to some is always good to others. ❜ ❨227❩ ❛ I certainly will not persuade myself to feel more than I do. ❜ ❨228❩ ❛ She is loveliness itself. ❜ ❨229❩ ❛ Time does not compose me. ❜ ❨230❩ ❛ A man always imagines a woman to be ready for anybody who asks her. ❜ ❨231❩ ❛ I do not find myself making any use of the word sacrifice. ❜ ❨232❩ ❛ I am quite enough in love. I should be sorry to be any more. ❜ ❨233❩ ❛ I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment. ❜ ❨234❩ ❛ I examined my own heart. And there you were. Never, I fear, to be removed. ❜ ❨235❩ ❛ With all your little faults, you are an excellent creature. ❜ ❨236❩ ❛ You have another long walk before you. ❜ ❨237❩ ❛ The child's laughter is pure until he first laughs at a clown. ❜ ❨238❩ ❛ What is marriage but prostitution to one man instead of many? ❜ ❨239❩ ❛ Out of the frying pan into the fire! ❜ ❨240❩ ❛ We must all make do with the rags of love we find flapping on the scarecrow of humanity. ❜ ❨241❩ ❛ She sleeps. And now she wakes each day a little less. ❜ ❨242❩ ❛ And, oh, God . . . how frequently I weep! ❜ ❨243❩ ❛ From the coffin of your madness there is no escape. ❜ ❨244❩ ❛ I am feeling supernatural tonight. I want to eat diamonds. ❜ ❨245❩ ❛ All the same there is a chance that if we keep on shaking our chains, one day, some day, the clasps upon the shackles will part. ❜ ❨246❩ ❛ It was sad music fit to make you cut your throat. ❜ ❨247❩ ❛ Nothing is more boring than being forced to play. ❜ ❨248❩ ❛ Amongst the monsters, I am well hidden; who looks for a leaf in a forest? ❜ ❨249❩ ❛ Wherein does a woman’s honour reside? In her vagina or in her spirit? ❜ ❨250❩ ❛ Perhaps...I could not be content with mere contentment! ❜ ❨251❩ ❛ Have you ever stared stark failure in the face? The trick is to outstare it. ❜ ❨252❩ ❛ Sometimes it seems that the faces exist of themselves, in a disembodied somewhere, waiting for the one who will wear them, who will bring them to life. ❜ ❨253❩ ❛ I have the febrile gaiety of a being without a past, without a present, yet I exist. ❜ ❨254❩ ❛ I felt myself turning, willy-nilly, from a woman into an idea. ❜ ❨255❩ ❛ She looks wonderful, but she doesn't look right. ❜ ❨256❩ ❛ The one-eyed man will be King in the country of the blind. ❜ ❨257❩ ❛ I raised you up to fly to the heavens, not to brood over a clutch of eggs! ❜ ❨258❩ ❛ I love to hear my bones rattle. That’s how I know I’m alive. ❜ ❨259❩ ❛ I learnt, first, as the birds do, from the birds. ❜ ❨260❩ ❛ Inside and outside match exactly, but both are badly wrong. ❜ ❨261❩ ❛ During the less-than-blink of time it took the last chime to die, there came a vertiginous sensation. ❜ ❨262❩ ❛ I fear a wound not of the body but the soul, an irreconcilable division between myself and the rest of humankind. ❜ ❨263❩ ❛ I fear the proof of my own singularity. ❜ ❨264❩ ❛ Still nothing could calm the fearful storm in my erupting skin. ❜ ❨265❩ ❛ Petersburg, loveliest of all hallucinations. ❜ ❨266❩ ❛ A breathless second between black forest and the frozen sea. ❜ ❨267❩ ❛ I'm beginning to feel totally cut off from the world. ❜ ❨268❩ ❛ What does this all mean? Where are we? ❜ ❨269❩ ❛ Sometimes I bleed. ❜ ❨270❩ ❛ If you see a ghost, you say "hello". ❜ ❨271❩ ❛ The war is not over. ❜ ❨272❩ ❛ You're not going. You left us once already. ❜ ❨273❩ ❛ You can’t go! ❜ ❨274❩ ❛ I loved you, but that wasn't enough, was it? ❜ ❨275❩ ❛ If you're dead, then leave me in peace. ❜ ❨276❩ ❛ The only thing that moves here is the light, but it changes everything. ❜ ❨277❩ ❛ I won't ask for forgiveness for something I didn't do! ❜ ❨278❩ ❛ Sometimes the world of the living gets mixed up with the world of the dead. ❜ ❨279❩ ❛ Death of a loved one can lead people to do the strangest things. ❜ ❨280❩ ❛ Sooner or later, they will find you. ❜ ❨281❩ ❛ They're everywhere - they say this house is theirs. ❜ ❨282❩ ❛ You're always teasing me, and telling lies. I'm sick of it. ❜ ❨283❩ ❛ Others will come. Sometimes we'll sense them. Other times, we won't. ❜ ❨284❩ ❛ No crying now. No crying. Stop that. Here. Look what an awful face you've got when you cry. ❜ ❨285❩ ❛ You listen to me. I've seen them too. ❜ ❨286❩ ❛ You'll see. There are going to be some big surprises. There are going to be... changes. ❜ ❨287❩ ❛ Why did you go and fight that stupid war that had nothing to do with us? Why didn't you stay like the others did? ❜ ❨288❩ ❛ Your place was here with your family. ❜ ❨289❩ ❛ So you say you know this house well? ❜ ❨290❩ ❛ I wasn't expecting you so soon. ❜ ❨291❩ ❛ What's the matter? Has the cat got your tongue? ❜ ❨292❩ ❛ You mean they just vanished? Into thin air? ❜ ❨293❩ ❛ No door must be opened without the previous one being closed first. ❜ ❨294❩ ❛ Here, most of the time, you can hardly see your way. ❜ ❨295❩ ❛ Whatever you do, don't open the curtains. ❜ ❨296❩ ❛ Now, come on. Eyes closed. ❜ ❨297❩ ❛ We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. We realise that we’re all going to die, without really finding out the big answers. ❜ ❨298❩ ❛ By definition, you have to live until you die. Better to make that life as complete and enjoyable an experience as possible, in case death is shite, which I suspect it will be. ❜ ❨299❩ ❛ I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. ❜ ❨300❩ ❛ And the reasons? There are no reasons. ❜ ❨301❩ ❛ Love does not exist, it's like religion, made to control you. ❜ ❨302❩ ❛ After all, we're not fucking stupid. At least, we're not that fucking stupid. ❜ ❨303❩ ❛ You fucking knew that fucking cunt would fuck some cunt. ❜ ❨304❩ ❛ Everything in the street today seems soft focus. ❜ ❨305❩ ❛ What does that make us? The lowest of the low. ❜ ❨306❩ ❛ Take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty, and you're still fuckin’ miles off the pace. ❜ ❨307❩ ❛ It’s as if everything is a copy of what you knew before, similar, yet somehow lacking in its usual qualities, a bit like the way things are in a dream. ❜ ❨308❩ ❛ It’s all okay, it’s all beautiful; but I fear that this internal sea is going to subside soon, leaving this poisonous shite washed up, stranded up in my body. ❜ ❨309❩ ❛ It cuts me up. It confuses me. ❜ ❨310❩ ❛ It's not funny laughter. This is lynch mob laughter. ❜ ❨311❩ ❛ Protect me from those who wish to help us. ❜ ❨312❩ ❛ They mean well, and they mean well to me, but there's no way under the sun that they can appreciate what I feel, what I need. ❜ ❨313❩ ❛ The pit of melancholy is a bottomless one, and I am descending fast. ❜ ❨314❩ ❛ Living like this is a full-time business. ❜ ❨315❩ ❛ I’ll stand or fall alone. ❜ ❨316❩ ❛ We are no wiser now than at the start. ❜ ❨317❩ ❛ This is pathetic, and fucking boring. ❜ ❨318❩ ❛ Death is usually a process, rather than an event. ❜ ❨319❩ ❛ We're ruled by effete arseholes. What does that make us? ❜ ❨320❩ ❛ We are all acquaintances now. ❜ ❨321❩ ❛ The problem is that this beautiful ocean carries with it loads of poisonous flotsam and jetsam. ❜ ❨322❩ ❛ Life is beautiful. I'm going to enjoy it, and I'm going to have a long life. ❜ ❨323❩ ❛ The grim reality of impending death can be talked away by trying to invest in the present reality of life. ❜ ❨324❩ ❛ There must be more to life than this. ❜ ❨325❩ ❛ We all see what we want to see. ❜ ❨326❩ ❛ Statistically speaking, you're more likely to be killed by a member of your own family or a close friend, than by anyone else. ❜ ❨327❩ ❛ What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question. ❜ ❨328❩ ❛ Maybe that's what love is: it's being pissed off. ❜ ❨329❩ ❛ You can forget who you are if you're alone too much. ❜ ❨330❩ ❛ Any religion is a shadow of God. But the shadows of God are not God. ❜ ❨331❩ ❛ Human understanding is fallible, and we see through a glass, darkly.  ❜ ❨332❩ ❛ We must be a beacon of hope, because if you tell people there's nothing they can do, they will do worse than nothing. ❜ ❨333❩ ❛ Everyone wants to feel like a princess, and princesses are selfish and overbearing. ❜ ❨334❩ ❛ We shouldn't have been so scornful; we should have had compassion. But compassion takes work, and we were young. ❜ ❨335❩ ❛ How easy it is, treachery. You just slide into it. ❜ ❨336❩ ❛ Amazing how the heart clutches at anything familiar, whimpering: Mine! Mine! ❜ ❨337❩ ❛ All creatures know that some must die ; that all the rest may take and eat. ❜ ❨338❩ ❛ Is this the image of a god? My tooth for yours, your eye for mine? ❜ ❨339❩ ❛ Without the light, no chance; without the dark, no dance. ❜ ❨340❩ ❛ Why are we designed to see the world as supremely beautiful just as we're about to be snuffed? Do rabbits feel the same as the fox teeth bite down on their necks? Is it mercy? ❜ ❨341❩ ❛ Love is useless, it leads you into dumb exchanges in which you give too much away, and then you get bitter and mean. ❜ ❨342❩ ❛ Maybe sadness is a kind of hunger. Maybe the two go together. ❜ ❨343❩ ❛ Now I can see how that can happen. You can fall in love with anybody -- a fool, a criminal, a nothing. There are no good rules. ❜ ❨344❩ ❛ If you really want to stay the same age you are now forever and ever, try jumping off the roof: death's a sure-fire method for stopping time. ❜ ❨345❩ ❛ You couldn’t leave words lying around where our enemies might find them. ❜ ❨346❩ ❛ I'm fine, for the moment. And the moment is the only time we can be fine in. ❜ ❨347❩ ❛ Because if you can't wish, why bother? ❜ ❨348❩ ❛ It's better to hope than mope! ❜ ❨349❩ ❛ Reality has too much darkness in it. Too many crows. ❜ ❨350❩ ❛ In any case, time is not a thing that passes, it’s a sea on which you float. ❜ ❨351❩ ❛ I know I’m deceiving myself, but I prefer to deceive myself. I desperately need to believe such pure joy is still possible. ❜ ❨352❩ ❛ Too much God and you overdose. God needs to be filtered. ❜ ❨353❩ ❛ Behind my eyelids I saw an animal. It was golden colour, with gentle green eyes and canine teeth, and curly wool instead of fur. It opened its mouth, but it did not speak. Instead, it yawned. ❜ ❨354❩ ❛ ‘Why can't I believe?’ I asked the darkness. ❜ ❨355❩ ❛ Everyone’s too sad for everything. ❜ ❨356❩ ❛ If you can’t stop the waves, go sailing. ❜ ❨357❩ ❛ I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary. ❜ ❨358❩ ❛ Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them. ❜ ❨359❩ ❛ In the end, we'll all become stories. ❜ ❨360❩ ❛ I am inadequate and stupid, without worth. I might as well be dead. ❜ ❨361❩ ❛ If you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen next—if you knew in advance the consequences of your own actions—you'd be doomed. You'd be ruined as God. ❜ ❨362❩ ❛ If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. ❜ ❨363❩ ❛ Stupidity is the same as evil if you judge by the results. ❜ ❨364❩ ❛ Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been. ❜ ❨365❩ ❛ Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? ❜ ❨366❩ ❛ We still think of a powerful man as a born leader and a powerful woman as an anomaly. ❜ ❨367❩ ❛ If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon? ❜ ❨368❩ ❛ You fit into me like a hook into an eye. ❜ ❨369❩ ❛ Knowing too much about other people puts you in their power, they have a claim on you, you are forced to understand their reasons for doing things and then you are weakened. ❜ ❨370❩ ❛ Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. ❜ ❨371❩ ❛ Women have curious ways of hurting someone else. ❜ ❨372❩ ❛ This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible: the song that forces men to leap overboard in squadrons. ❜ ❨373❩ ❛ Get rid of death. Make it be spring. ❜ ❨374❩ ❛ You are innocent as a bathtub full of bullets. ❜ ❨375❩ ❛ I am the space you desecrate as you pass through. ❜ ❨376❩ ❛ Favour me and give me riches, destroy my enemies. Save me from death. ❜ ❨377❩ ❛ She is a raw voice loose in the rooms beneath me. ❜ ❨378❩ ❛ Isn't the moon warm enough for you, why do you need the blanket of another body? ❜ ❨379❩ ❛ This is a torch song. Touch me and you'll burn. ❜ ❨380❩ ❛ If you look long enough eventually you will see me. ❜ ❨381❩ ❛ I would like to sleep with you, to enter your sleep as its smooth dark wave slides over my head. ❜ ❨382❩ ❛ I would like to give you the silver branch, the small white flower, the one word that will protect you from the grief. ❜ ❨383❩ ❛ But some people can't tell where it hurts. They can't calm down. They can't ever stop howling. ❜ ❨384❩ ❛ How else can we live, these days, except in the midst of ruin? ❜ ❨385❩ ❛ What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question. ❜ ❨386❩ ❛ Gods always come in handy, they justify almost anything. ❜ ❨387❩ ❛ We loved with a love that was more than love. ❜ ❨388❩ ❛ Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. ❜ ❨389❩ ❛ The boundaries which divide life from death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? ❜ ❨390❩ ❛ There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportion. ❜ ❨391❩ ❛ Never to suffer would never to have been blessed. ❜ ❨392❩ ❛ Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear. ❜ ❨393❩ ❛ And all I loved, I loved alone. ❜ ❨394❩ ❛ Years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute. ❜ ❨395❩ ❛ The best things in life make you sweaty. ❜ ❨396❩ ❛ There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. ❜ ❨397❩ ❛ Anything is better than this agony. ❜ ❨398❩ ❛ You fancy me mad. ❜ ❨399❩ ❛ I hear all things in the heaven and in the earth. ❜ ❨400❩ ❛ Who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? ❜ ❨401❩ ❛ Leave my loneliness unbroken! ❜ ❨402❩ ❛ A more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrills every fibre of my frame. ❜ ��403❩ ❛ The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. ❜ ❨404❩ ❛ Let my heart be still a moment. ❜ ❨405❩ ❛ You call it hope —  It is but agony of desire. ❜ ❨406❩ ❛ Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or silly action for no other reason than because he knows he should not? ❜ ❨407❩ ❛ To die laughing must be the most glorious of all glorious deaths! ❜ ❨408❩ ❛ The beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage. ❜ ❨409❩ ❛ Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive. ❜ ❨410❩ ❛ I have been happy, though in a dream. ❜ ❨411❩ ❛ Nevermore. ❜ ❨412❩ ❛ The truth is, I am heartily sick of this life. ❜ ❨413❩ ❛ I am convinced that every thing is going wrong. ❜ ❨414❩ ❛ The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls. ❜ ❨415❩ ❛ And if I died, at least I will have died for you! ❜ ❨416❩ ❛ It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. ❜ ❨417❩ ❛ Hurt and humiliation — But this, I can not take. ❜ ❨418❩ ❛ The walls in there have ears. ❜ ❨419❩ ❛ This is for your ears only. ❜ ❨420❩ ❛ What is it? You have me scared. ❜ ❨421❩ ❛ Whoever isn’t for us, is against us. ❜ ❨422❩ ❛ You are just a body; to be dumped, disposed of like a carcass, left out for the birds to feed on. ❜ ❨423❩ ❛ The dead will have to forgive me. ❜ ❨424❩ ❛ From now on and no matter how your mind may I change, I will not accept your help. ❜ ❨425❩ ❛ If death comes, so be it. There will be glory in it. ❜ ❨426❩ ❛ Live, then; and live with your choice. ❜ ❨427❩ ❛ I am doing what has to be done. ❜ ❨428❩ ❛ Nothing is going to stop the ones that love you from keeping on loving you. ❜ ❨429❩ ❛ Worst is the man who has all the good advice, and then because his nerve fails, fails to act in accordance with it, as a leader should. ❜ ❨430❩ ❛ Only a loony would walk himself into this. ❜ ❨431❩ ❛ Why do you need such fences and defences? ❜ ❨432❩ ❛ Enough. Do not anger me. ❜ ❨433❩ ❛ The gods, you think, will side with the likes of him? ❜ ❨434❩ ❛ Watch it. You are over stepping. ❜ ❨435❩ ❛ I warn you. You should keep a civil tongue. ❜ ❨436❩ ❛ There is no such thing as an oath the can not be broken. ❜ ❨437❩ ❛ Every now and then, the things you’d hardly let yourself imagine, actually happen. ❜ ❨438❩ ❛ And you stand over this? This is the truth? ❜ ❨439❩ ❛ The bigger the resistance, the bigger the collapse. ❜ ❨440❩ ❛ Iron that’s forged the hardest, snaps the quickest. ❜ ❨441❩ ❛ Even the wildest horses come to heel when they are reined & bitted right. ❜ ❨442❩ ❛ That’s how guilt affects some people. They break and everything comes out. ❜ ❨443❩ ❛ Will it be enough for you? To see me executed? ❜ ❨444❩ ❛ So you know something no one else knows? ❜ ❨445❩ ❛ They know it too. They are just too afraid to say it. ❜ ❨446❩ ❛ If you die, how will I keep on living? ❜ ❨447❩ ❛ There was a star riding through clouds one night, & I said to the star, 'Consume me'. ❜ ❨448❩ ❛ How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. ❜ ❨449❩ ❛ Alone, I often fall down into nothingness. I have to bang my head against some hard door to call myself back to the body. ❜ ❨450❩ ❛ I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me. ❜ ❨451❩ ❛ For this moment, this one moment, we are together.  ❜ ❨452❩ ❛ Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder. ❜ ❨453❩ ❛ I am as neat as a cat in my habits. ❜ ❨454❩ ❛ Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me. ❜ ❨455❩ ❛ I am the foam that sweeps and fills the uttermost rims of the rocks with whiteness; I am also a girl, here in this room. ❜ ❨456❩ ❛ We are cut, we are fallen. We are become part of that unfeeling universe ❨457❩ that sleeps when we are at our quickest and burns red when we lie ❨458❩ asleep. ❜ ❨459❩ ❛ These moments of escape are not to be despised. They come too seldom. ❜ ❨460❩ ❛ Up here my eyes are green leaves, unseeing. ❜ ❨461❩ ❛ The moment is all; the moment is enough. ❜ ❨462❩ ❛ I do not want to be admired. I want to give, to be given. ❜ ❨463❩ ❛ I am not one and simple, but complex and many. ❜ ❨464❩ ❛ And if you are dead, I shall weep. ❜ ❨465❩ ❛ But beauty must be broken daily to remain beautiful. ❜ ❨466❩ ❛ But our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our love. ❜ ❨467❩ ❛ I desired always to stretch the night and fill it fuller and fuller with dreams. ❜ ❨468❩ ❛ Life is a dream surely. ❜ ❨469❩ ❛ I think sometimes I am not a woman, but the light that falls on this gate, on this ground. I am the seasons, I think sometimes, January, May, November; the mud, the mist, the dawn. ❜ ❨470❩ ❛ Oh, I am in love with life! ❜ ❨471❩ ❛ I have been knotted; I have been torn apart. ❜ ❨472❩ ❛ There was no freedom in life, and certainly there was none in death. ❜ ❨473❩ ❛ I do not know. I do not know myself sometimes, or how to measure and name and count out the grains that make me what I am. ❜ ❨474❩ ❛ I ride rough waters, and shall sink with no one to save me. ❜ ❨475❩ ❛ I am above the earth now. I am no longer upright, to be knocked against and damaged. ❜ ❨476❩ ❛ I see it all. I feel it all. ❜ ❨477❩ ❛ Death is woven in with the violets. Death and again death. ❜ ❨478❩ ❛ We have been walking for hours it seems. But where? I cannot remember. ❜ ❨479❩ ❛ If we were all on trial for our thoughts, we would all be hanged. ❜ ❨480❩ ❛ When you are in the middle of a story it isn't a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass. ❜ ❨481❩ ❛ Murderess is a strong word to have attached to you. It has a smell to it, that word; - musky and oppressive, like dead flowers in a vase.  ❜ ❨482❩ ❛ Sometimes at night I whisper it over to myself: Murderess, murderess. It rustles, like a taffeta skirt across the floor. ❜ ❨483❩ ❛ If the world treats you well, you come to believe you are deserving of it. ❜ ❨484❩ ❛ If I am good enough and quiet enough, perhaps after all they will let me go. ❜ ❨485❩ ❛ It’s not easy being quiet and good, it’s like hanging on to the edge of a bridge when you’ve already fallen over; you don’t seem to be moving, just dangling there, and yet it is taking all your strength. ❜ ❨486❩ ❛ There is no fool like an educated fool. ❜ ❨487❩ ❛ There are many dangerous things that may take place in a bed. ❜ ❨488❩ ❛ I am afraid of falling into hopeless despair, over my wasted life, and I am still not sure how it happened. ❜ ❨489❩ ❛ Underneath it all is another feeling, a feeling of being wide-eyed awake and watchful. ❜ ❨490❩ ❛ And underneath all that is another feeling still, a feeling like being torn open; not like a body of flesh, it is not painful as such, but like a peach; and not even torn open, but ripe and splitting open of its own accord.  ❜ ❨491❩ ❛ The small details of life often hide a great significance. ❜ ❨492❩ ❛ Guilt comes to you not from the things you've done, but from the things that others have done to you. ❜ ❨493❩ ❛ I wonder, how can I be all of these different things at once? ❜ ❨494❩ ❛ It is always a mistake to curse back openly at those who are stronger than you unless there is a fence between. ❜ ❨495❩ ❛ Some call this "Eve's curse," but I think that is stupid because the real curse of Eve was having to put up with the nonsense of Adam. ❜ ❨496❩ ❛ I don't know why they are all so eager to be remembered. What good will it do them? There are some things that should be forgotten by everyone, and never spoken of again. ❜ ❨497❩ ❛ I would never blame a human creature for feeling lonely. ❜ ❨498❩ ❛ If they want a monster so badly they ought to be provided by one. ❜ ❨499❩ ❛ It’s as if I never existed, because no trace of me remains, I have left no marks. And that way I cannot be followed. It is almost the same as being innocent. ❜ ❨500❩ ❛ Today you wear your habitual expression of strained anxiety; you smell of violets. ❜ ❨501❩ ❛ Of course you have always been an idealist, and filled with your optimistic dreams; but reality must at some time obtrude. ❜ ❨502❩ ❛ I wonder what would become of me, and comfort myself that in a hundred years I will be dead and at peace. ❜ ❨503❩ ❛ For it is not always the one that strikes the blow that is the actual murderer. ❜ ❨504❩ ❛ There is a “do this” or “do that” with God, but not any “because”. ❜ ❨505❩ ❛ If you have a need and they find it out, they will use it against you. The best way is to stop from wanting anything. ❜ ❨506❩ ❛ They say, why don’t you ever smile or laugh, we never see you smiling, and I say I suppose I have gotten out of the way of it, my face won’t bend in that direction any more. ❜ ❨507❩ ❛ I was shut up inside that doll of myself, and my true voice could not get out. ❜ ❨508❩ ❛ I see what you’re after. You are a collector. You think all you have to do is give me an apple, and then you can collect me. ❜ ❨509❩ ❛ If you want to be an asshole, it's a free country. Millions before you have made the same life choice. ❜ ❨510❩ ❛ Then there's the future. Sheer vertigo. ❜ ❨511❩ ❛ Nature is to zoos as God is to churches. ❜ ❨512❩ ❛ After everything that's happened, how can the world still be so beautiful? ❜ ❨513❩ ❛ There's something to be said for hunger: at least it lets you know you're still alive. ❜ ❨514❩ ❛ These things sneak up on me for no reason, these flashes of irrational happiness. It's probably a vitamin deficiency. ❜ ❨515❩ ❛ Toast cannot be explained by any rational means. Toast is me. I am toast. ❜ ❨516❩ ❛ You can’t buy it, but it has a price. Everything has a price. ❜ ❨517❩ ❛ As a species were doomed by hope, then? You could call it hope. That, or desperation. ❜ ❨518❩ ❛ I am not my childhood. ❜ ❨519❩ ❛ Human beings hope they can stick their souls into someone else and live on forever. ❜ ❨520❩ ❛ “I'll make you mine”, lovers said in old books. They never said, “I'll make you me.” ❜ ❨521❩ ❛ How much is too much, how far is too far? ❜ ❨522❩ ❛ Expectation isn't the same as desire. ❜ ❨523❩ ❛ Why not cut to the chase? ❜ ❨524❩ ❛ Maybe there aren't any solutions. Human society, corpses and rubble. ❜ ❨525❩ ❛ I thought you didn’t believe in God. ❜ ❨526❩ ❛ I need at least the illusion of being understood. ❜ ❨527❩ ❛ What change would have altered the course of events? In the big picture, nothing. In the small picture, so much. ❜ ❨528❩ ❛ You are only looking at the dirt under your feet. It's not good for you. ❜ ❨529❩ ❛ I like to keep only the bright side of myself turned towards you.  ❜ ❨530❩ ❛ Grief in the face of inevitable death. The wish to stop time. The human condition. ❜ ❨531❩ ❛ So many crucial events take place behind people’s backs, when they aren’t in a position to watch: birth and death, for instance. ❜ ❨532❩ ❛ Would you kill someone you loved to spare them pain? ❜ ❨533❩ ❛ When the water’s moving faster than the boat, you can’t control a thing. ❜ ❨534❩ ❛ Don't be so fucking sentimental. ❜ ❨535❩ ❛ Wrong, as usual. ❜ ❨536❩ ❛ Why do you want to talk about ugly things? ❜ ❨537❩ ❛ I understand why serial killers send helpful clues to the police. ❜ ❨538❩ ❛ Take your time, leave mine alone. ❜ ❨539❩ ❛ You will hear thunder and remember me. ❜ ❨540❩ ❛ If you were music, I would listen to you ceaselessly. ❜ ❨541❩ ❛ I seem to myself an accidental guest in this dreadful body. ❜ ❨542❩ ❛ Call me a sinner, mock me maliciously. ❜ ❨543❩ ❛ I, from the very beginning, seemed to myself like someone's dream or delirium. Or a reflection in someone else's mirror. Without flesh, without meaning, without a name. ❜ ❨544❩ ❛ I knew the list of crimes that I was destined to commit. ❜ ❨545❩ ❛ The future ripens in the past, so the past rots in the future. ❜ ❨546❩ ❛ You are untranslatable into any one tongue. ❜ ❨547❩ ❛ I was hoping my silence would fit yours. ❜ ❨548❩ ❛ See, we were never about butterflies. All about us is unearthly and radiant. ❜ ❨549❩ ❛ You do not know just what you've been forgiven. ❜ ❨550❩ ❛ I need to slaughter my memory.  ❜ ❨551❩ ❛ Forgive me that I appeared to you in waking dreams. ❜ ❨552❩ ❛ I will condemn, I will forget, I will give comfort to the enemy. ❜ ❨553❩ ❛ I know beginnings, I know endings too, and life-in-death. ❜ ❨554❩ ❛ Wild honey smells of freedom. But gold smells of nothing. ❜ ❨555❩ ❛ You are three times more beautiful than angels. ❜ ❨556❩ ❛ I will kill you without spilling your blood on the ground, not touching you with my hand, not giving you one glance. ❜ ❨557❩ ❛ You invented me. There is no such earthly being. ❜ ❨558❩ ❛ You’re late. Way too late. I’m glad to see you, nonetheless. ❜ ❨559❩ ❛ Forgive me that I felt forsaken. Forgive me that I kept mistaking too many others for you. ❜ ❨560❩ ❛ Real tenderness can’t be confused, it’s quiet and can’t be heard. ❜ ❨561❩ ❛ What else lived in that house besides us? ❜ ❨562❩ ❛ How unhappy we are together! ❜ ❨563❩ ❛ I defend not my voice, but my silence. ❜ ❨564❩ ❛ Without love, I'm more at ease, I'm sure. ❜ ❨565❩ ❛ I've got no more tears or explanations. ❜ ❨566❩ ❛ I’m not complaining. Happiness is not for me. ❜ ❨567❩ ❛ Are you not the only tie between good and evil, earthly pits and paradise? ❜ ❨568❩ ❛ In the morning we shall find out who has died in the night. ❜ ❨569❩ ❛ I was not a lovable child, and I've grown into a deeply unlovable adult. ❜ ❨570❩ ❛ The truly frightening flaw in humanity is our capacity for cruelty - we all have it. ❜ ❨571❩ ❛ I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ. Slit me at my belly and it might slide out, meaty and dark. ❜ ❨572❩ ❛ I am not angry or sad or happy to see you. I could not give a shit. You don't even ripple. ❜ ❨573❩ ❛ I was raised feral, and I mostly stayed that way. ❜ ❨574❩ ❛ I can feel a better version of me somewhere in there - hidden behind a liver or attached to a bit of spleen. But the meanness usually wins out. ❜ ❨575❩ ❛ I felt something loosen in me, that shouldn't have loosened. A stitch come undone. ❜ ❨576❩ ❛ Everyone who keeps a secret, itches to tell it. ❜ ❨577❩ ❛ Coffee goes great with sudden death. ❜ ❨578❩ ❛ I should just listen to my gut and then do the opposite. ❜ ❨579❩ ❛ “Smile, it can't be that bad!” Yeah, actually, it can, jackwad. ❜ ❨580❩ ❛ Everything bad in the world already did happen. ❜ ❨581❩ ❛ You’re going to find peace? Like knowing is somehow going to fix you? ❜ ❨582❩ ❛ Instead of asking yourself what happened, just accept that it happened. ❜ ❨583❩ ❛ Homesick for a place I've never been. ❜ ❨584❩ ❛ Worries find you easily enough without inviting them. ❜ ❨585❩ ❛ It is always consoling to think of suicide. It's what gets one through many a bad night. ❜ ❨586❩ ❛ Do you understand this is serious? ❜ ❨587❩ ❛ Sometimes it feels good to fuck with something. Instead of always being fucked with. ❜ ❨588❩ ❛ How could you kill something you cared enough to name? ❜ ❨589❩ ❛ Draw a picture of my soul, and it’d be a scribble with fangs. ❜ ❨590❩ ❛ We have the same chemicals in our blood: shame, anger, greed. Unjustified nostalgia. ❜ ❨591❩ ❛ I appreciate a straightforward apology the way a tone-deaf person enjoys a fine piece of music. ❜ ❨592❩ ❛ The phrase fuck you may not rest on the tip of my tongue, but it’s near. Midtongue. ❜ ❨593❩ ❛ Nothing to it but to do it. ❜ ❨594❩ ❛ There are a lot of people who deserve a lesson, deserve to really understand, that nothing comes easy, that most things are going to go sour. ❜ ❨595❩ ❛ If ifs and buts were candies and nuts we’d all have a very Merry Christmas. ❜ ❨596❩ ❛ Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. ❜ ❨597❩ ❛ What does it do to a girl who knows her mother is a murderer? ❜ ❨598❩ ❛ That mean old bitch across the street bit it. ❜ ❨599❩ ❛ Survival is a talent. ❜ ❨600❩ ❛ Crazy isn't being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It’s you or me amplified. If you ever told a lie and enjoyed it. If you ever wished you could be a child forever. ❜ ❨601❩ ❛ Who has the courage to burn themselves? ❜ ❨602❩ ❛ Is insanity just a matter of dropping the act? ❜ ❨603❩ ❛ Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought your train moving while sitting still? ❜ ❨604❩ ❛ You need to be well fed, clothed, and housed to have time for this much self-pity. ❜ ❨605❩ ❛ When I am supposed to be awake, I am asleep; when I am supposed to speak, I am silent. When a pleasure offers itself to me, I avoid it. ❜ ❨606❩ ❛ There is thought, and then there is thinking about thoughts, and they don't feel the same. ❜ ❨607❩ ❛ In a strange way we are free. We've reached the end of the line. We have nothing more to lose. ❜ ❨608❩ ❛ The world won’t stop because we aren’t in it anymore. ❜ ❨609❩ ❛ I can't answer the real question. All I can tell you is, it's easy. ❜ ❨610❩ ❛ I am lighter, airier than I’ve been in years. ❜ ❨611❩ ❛ I am not dead, yet something in me definitely is. ❜ ❨612❩ ❛ You meant that as an insult but I am taking it as a compliment. ❜ ❨613❩ ❛ What life can recover from that? ❜ ❨614❩ ❛ It's a fairly accurate portrait of me. It's accurate but it isn't profound. ❜ ❨615❩ ❛ Pull yourself together! There's nothing wrong with you. ❜ ❨616❩ ❛ It's quiet. It's like― I don't know. It's like falling off a cliff. ❜ ❨617❩ ❛ Once you start parsing a face, it's a peculiar item: squishy, pointy, with lots of air vents and wet spots. ❜ ❨618❩ ❛ I lost him. I did it on purpose. ❜ ❨619❩ ❛ It’s a mean world. There’s nobody to take care of you out there. ❜ ❨620❩ ❛ Reality is getting too dense. ❜ ❨621❩ ❛ I'm ambivalent. In fact that's my new favourite word. ❜ ❨622❩ ❛ I can't come up with reassuring answers to the terrible questions you raise. ❜ ❨623❩ ❛ A spring day, the sort that gives people hope: all soft winds and delicate smells of warm earth. Suicide weather. ❜ ❨624❩ ❛ Twenty-five chocolate chip cookies would be the perfect dinner. ❜ ❨625❩ ❛ A thought is a hard thing to control. ❜ ❨626❩ ❛ Life demands skills I don’t have. ❜ ❨627❩ ❛ Light like this does not exist, but we wish it did. We wish the sun could make us young and beautiful. Most of all, we wish that everyone we knew could be brightened simply by our looking at them. ❜ ❨628❩ ❛ It never stops, even at night, it’s my lullaby. ❜ ❨629❩ ❛ Love blurs your vision; but after it recedes, you can see more clearly than ever. ❜ ❨630❩ ❛ This is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes. ❜ ❨631❩ ❛ I have done something wrong, something so huge I can't even see it, something that's drowning me. ❜ ❨632❩ ❛ Whatever is happening to me is my own fault. ❜ ❨633❩ ❛ Hatred is easier. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love. ❜ ❨634❩ ❛ Potential has a shelf life. ❜ ❨635❩ ❛ Don’t move. Stay like that, let me have that. ❜ ❨636❩ ❛ I have come to the edge, of the land. I could get pushed over. ❜ ❨637❩ ❛ Never pray for justice, because you might get some. ❜ ❨638❩ ❛ It disturbs me to learn I have hurt someone unintentionally. I want all my hurts to be intentional. ❜ ❨639❩ ❛ We have been shark to one another, but also lifeboat. That counts for something. ❜ ❨640❩ ❛ This is what I miss, not something that’s gone, but something that will never happen. ❜ ❨641❩ ❛ I am not good. I know too much to be good. I know myself. I know myself to be vengeful, greedy, secretive and sly. ❜ ❨642❩ ❛ You are amazing. Amazing and agonising and almost lethal. ❜ ❨643❩ ❛ In my dreams of this city I am always lost. ❜ ❨644❩ ❛ I don't know where these feelings have come from, I don’t know what I've done. ❜ ❨645❩ ❛ I am not the centre of your story, you are.  ❜ ❨646❩ ❛ I’m mad because you’re an asshole. ❜ ❨647❩ ❛ It's enormously pleasing to me, walking away. It's like being able to make people appear and vanish, at will. ❜ ❨648❩ ❛ There is never only one of anyone. ❜ ❨649❩ ❛ I can't do this without feeling I'm acting. ❜ ❨650❩ ❛ I am prepared for almost anything; except absence, except silence. ❜ ❨651❩ ❛ I’m losing my appetite for strangers. ❜ ❨652❩ ❛ You wear your cravings on the outside, like the suckers on a squid. You want it all. ❜ ❨653❩ ❛ Knowing too much about other people weakens you. You are forced to understand their reasons for doing things. ❜ ❨654❩ ❛ I have lost confidence: perhaps all I will ever be is what I am now. ❜ ❨655❩ ❛ Echoes of light, shining out of the midst of nothing. It's old light, and there's not much of it. But it's enough to see by. ❜ ❨656❩ ❛ Whoever cares the most will lose. ❜ ❨657❩ ❛ Young women need unfairness, it’s one of their few defences.  ❜ ❨658❩ ❛ Time has gone on without you. ❜ ❨659❩ ❛ Don't let the bastards grind you down. ❜ ❨660❩ ❛ Who can remember pain, once it’s over? Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind. ❜ ❨661❩ ❛ Better never means better for everyone. It always means worse, for some. ❜ ❨662❩ ❛ There is more than one kind of freedom. Freedom to and freedom from. ❜ ❨663❩ ❛ Remember that forgiveness too is a power. ❜ ❨664❩ ❛ I am not your justification for existence. ❜ ❨665❩ ❛ I want to be valued, in ways that I am not; I want to be more than valuable. ❜ ❨666❩ ❛ If it's a story I'm telling, then I have control over the ending. ❜ ❨667❩ ❛ All you have to do is keep your mouth shut and look stupid. It shouldn't be that hard. ❜ ❨668❩ ❛ Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations. ❜ ❨669❩ ❛ I want everything back, the way it was. ❜ ❨670❩ ❛ You can't help what you feel, but you can help how you behave. ❜ ❨671❩ ❛ Nothing changes instantaneously: in a gradually heating bathtub you'd be boiled to death before you knew it. ❜ ❨672❩ ❛ To want is to have a weakness. ❜ ❨673❩ ❛ There isn't even an enemy you could put your finger on. ❜ ❨674❩ ❛ The past is a great darkness, filled with echoes. ❜ ❨675❩ ❛ Ordinary is what you are used to. This may not seem ordinary to you now, but after a time it will. It will become ordinary. ❜ ❨676❩ ❛ I wish this story were different. I wish it were more civilised. I wish it showed me in a better light. ❜ ❨677❩ ❛ The night is mine, my own time, to do with it as I will, as long as I am quiet. As long as I don't move. As long as I lie still. ❜ ❨678❩ ❛ By telling you anything at all I'm at least believing in you. ❜ ❨679❩ ❛ Whatever is silenced will clamour to be heard. ❜ ❨680❩ ❛ Don't worry about forgiving me right now. There are more important things. ❜ ❨681❩ ❛ Keep the others safe. Don't let them suffer too much. If they have to die, let it be fast. ❜ ❨682❩ ❛ The body is so easily damaged, so easily disposed of, water and chemicals is all it is, hardly more to it than a jellyfish, drying on sand. ❜ ❨683❩ ❛ The world is full of weapons if you're looking for them. ❜ ❨684❩ ❛ Nobody's heart is perfect. ❜ ❨685❩ ❛ One false move and I'm dead. ❜ ❨686❩ ❛ Watch out. I've got my eye on you. ❜ ❨687❩ ❛ Fear is a powerful stimulant. ❜ ❨688❩ ❛ I couldn't afford to lose you. ❜ ❨689❩ ❛ Name one hero who was happy. ---- You can’t. ❜ ❨690❩ ❛ I feel like I could eat the world raw. ❜ ❨691❩ ❛ We are like gods at the dawning of the world. ❜ ❨692❩ ❛ I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world. ❜ ❨693❩ ❛ There are no bargains between lion and men. I will kill you and eat you raw. ❜ ❨694❩ ❛ You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature. ❜ ❨695❩ ❛ He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. ❜ ❨696❩ ❛ Some men gain glory after they die, others fade. ❜ ❨697❩ ❛ I am made of memories. ❜ ❨698❩ ❛ Will you come with me? ❜ ❨699❩ ❛ I wish I had let you all die. ❜ ❨700❩ ❛ It is right to seek peace for the dead. You and I both know there is no peace for those who live after. ❜ ❨701❩ ❛ Bury us. Let us be free. ❜ ❨702❩ ❛ Go. He waits for you. ❜ ❨703❩ ❛ Nothing could eclipse the stain of this dirty, mortal mediocrity. ❜ ❨704❩ ❛ I know I have told you of this. ❜ ❨705❩ ❛ I don't know how you remember them all. I swear they look the same to me. ❜ ❨706❩ ❛ Perhaps you should get some new stories, so I don’t fucking kill myself of boredom. ❜ ❨707❩ ❛ I yearn for the darkness and silence of the underworld, where I can rest. ❜ ❨708❩ ❛ There is no honour in betraying your friends. ❜ ❨709❩ ❛ There is no answer. Whichever you choose, you are wrong. ❜ ❨710❩ ❛ Divine blood flows differently. ❜ ❨711❩ ❛ How is there glory in taking life? We die so easily. ❜ ❨712❩ ❛ This is what I will miss, I think. I will kill myself rather than miss it. ❜ ❨713❩ ❛ How long do we have? ❜ ❨714❩ ❛ Do you think we fight hopeless wars? ❜ ❨715❩ ❛ There is no law that gods must be fair. ❜ ❨716❩ ❛ I do not fear ridicule. I never have. ❜ ❨717❩ ❛ You were always better with words than I. ❜ ❨718❩ ❛ Who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? ❜ ❨719❩ ❛ When you see beauty in desolation it changes something inside you. ❜ ❨720❩ ❛ That's how the madness of the world tries to colonise you: from the outside in, forcing you to live in its reality. ❜ ❨721❩ ❛ The shadows of the abyss are like the petals of a monstrous flower that shall blossom within the skull and expand the mind beyond what any man can bear. ❜ ❨722❩ ❛ Silence creates violence. ❜ ❨723❩ ❛ Some questions will ruin you if you are denied the answer long enough. ❜ ❨724❩ ❛ There are certain kinds of connections that are so deep that when broken you feel the snap of it inside you. ❜ ❨725❩ ❛ Nothing that ever lived and breathed was truly objective—even in a vacuum, even if all that possessed the brain was a self-immolating desire for the truth. ❜ ❨726❩ ❛ We all live in a kind of continuous dream. ❜ ❨727❩ ❛ You can either waste time worrying about a death that might not come or concentrate on what’s left to you. ❜ ❨728❩ ❛ What can you do when your five senses are not enough? ❜ ❨729❩ ❛ We will neither be what we had been nor what we would become once we reach our destination. ❜ ❨730❩ ❛ Perhaps my only real expertise, my only talent, is to endure beyond the endurable. ❜ ❨731❩ ❛ When you are too close to the centre of a mystery there is no way to pull back. ❜ ❨732❩ ❛ I long ago stopped believing in promises. Biological imperatives, yes. Environmental factors, yes. Promises, no. ❜ ❨733❩ ❛ I look not for shooting stars but for fixed ones, and I try to imagine what kind of life lives in those celestial tidal pools so far from us. ❜ ❨734❩ ❛ I hesitated for just a moment. Some part of me wanted to see the creature, I think. If so, it was a very small part. I ran. ❜ ❨735❩ ❛ I don’t require any of this to have a deeper meaning. ❜ ❨736❩ ❛ All of this speculation is incomplete, inexact, inaccurate, useless. ❜ ❨737❩ ❛ We don’t have real answers, because we still don’t know what questions to ask. Our instruments are useless, our methodology broken, our motivations selfish. ❜ ❨738❩ ❛ This part I will do alone. Don’t follow. ❜ ❨739❩ ❛ People my entire life have told me I am too much in control, but that has never been the case. I have never truly been in control. ❜ ❨740❩ ❛ Has there always been someone like me to bury the bodies, to have regrets, to carry on after everyone else was dead? ❜ ❨741❩ ❛ I loved them, but I didn’t need them, and I thought that was the way it was supposed to be. ❜ ❨742❩ ❛ Places can impress themselves upon me, and I can become part of them with ease. ❜ ❨743❩ ❛ There is no one with me. I am all by myself. ❜ ❨744❩ ❛ Pretending often leads to becoming a reasonable facsimile of what you mimic. ❜ ❨745❩ ❛ I think you're confusing suicide with self-destruction, and they're very different. Almost none of us commit suicide, whereas almost all of us self-destruct. ❜ ❨746❩ ❛ What did you eat? You had rations for only two weeks. You were there for nearly four months. ❜ ❨747❩ ❛ Something here is making giant waves in the gene pool. ❜ ❨748❩ ❛ I need to know what’s inside. ❜ ❨749❩ ❛ These aren't decisions. They're impulses ❜ ❨750❩ ❛ What do you think I do when you’re away? Do you think I’m out in the garden pinning, looking up at the sky? ❜ ❨751❩ ❛ If I know what’s happened I can save their life. ❜ ❨752❩ ❛ They either went crazy or something in here killed them. ❜ ❨753❩ ❛ Something is coming through the fence! ❜ ❨754❩ ❛ Nothing is written in the stars. Not these stars, nor any others. No one controls your destiny. ❜ ❨755❩ ❛ People who claim that they're evil are usually no worse than the rest of us. ❜ ❨756❩ ❛ Happy endings are still endings. ❜ ❨757❩ ❛ We believe in all sorts of things that aren't true; -- we call it history. ❜ ❨758❩ ❛ Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil? ❜ ❨759❩ ❛ In the lives of children, pumpkins turn into coaches, mice and rats turn into men. When we grow up, we realise it is far more common for men to turn into rats. ❜ ❨760❩ ❛ Girls need cold anger. They need the cold simmer, the ceaseless grudge, the talent to avoid forgiveness, the side stepping of compromise.  ❜ ❨761❩ ❛ Love makes hunters of us all. ❜ ❨762❩ ❛ There is much to hate in this world and way too much to love. ❜ ❨763❩ ❛ You confuse not speaking with not listening. ❜ ❨764❩ ❛ As long as people are going to call you a lunatic anyway, why not get the benefit of it? It liberates you from convention. ❜ ❨765❩ ❛ The eye is always caught by light, but shadows have more to say. ❜ ❨766❩ ❛ Not everyone is born a witch or a saint. Not everyone is born talented, or crooked, or blessed; some are born definite in no particular at all. ❜ ❨767❩ ❛ We are a fountain of shimmering contradictions, most of us. ❜ ❨768❩ ❛ The wickedness of men is that their power breeds stupidity and blindness. ❜ ❨769❩ ❛ I know you don't want to hear this but someone has to say it! You are out of control! ❜ ❨770❩ ❛ Even at the very worst - there is always choice. ❜ ❨771❩ ❛ Maybe the definition of home is the place where you are never forgiven. So you may always belong there, bound by guilt. And maybe the cost of belonging is worth it. ❜ ❨772❩ ❛ Cross a man and you struggle, one of you wins, you adjust and go on -- or you lie there dead. Cross a woman and the entire universe is changed. ❜ ❨773❩ ❛ That was such a wonderful time, even in its strangeness and sadness. Life isn't the same now. It's wonderful, but it isn't the same. ❜ ❨774❩ ❛ I don't care for approval, and I don't mind doing without. ❜ ❨775❩ ❛ It's where I live. A permanent state of bereavement. This is nothing new. ❜ ❨776❩ ❛ Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Always the godfather, never the god. ❜ ❨777❩ ❛ The world unwraps itself to you, again and again as soon as you are ready to see it anew. ❜ ❨778❩ ❛ Evil is an act, not an appetite. Everyone has the appetite. If you give in to it, that act is evil. The appetite is normal. ❜ ❨779❩ ❛ How many haven't wanted to slash the throat of some boor across the dining room table?  ❜ ❨780❩ ❛ Even God used silence as a strategy. ❜ ❨781❩ ❛ I learned failure early and mastered it. ❜ ❨782❩ ❛ It isn't whether you do it well or ill, it's that you do it all. ❜ ❨783❩ ❛ This is why you shouldn't fall in love, it blinds you. Love is a very wicked distraction. ❜ ❨784❩ ❛ Wisdom is not the understanding of mystery. Wisdom is accepting that mystery is beyond understanding. That's what makes it mystery. ❜ ❨785❩ ❛ Wrong takes an awful long time to be proven, in my experience. ❜ ❨786❩ ❛ Such brightness, as you know, decays brilliantly. ❜ ❨787❩ ❛ I take responsibility only for the future, not the past. The past can't hurt you the way the future can. ❜ ❨788❩ ❛ Tell me to mind my own business, tell me to go fuck myself, to piss off, go on, say it, but don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. ❜ ❨789❩ ❛ The truth isn't a thing of fact or reason. It is simply what everyone agrees on. ❜ ❨790❩ ❛ One can't make peace with another by force. ❜ ❨791❩ ❛ I am a forgettable leaf on a tree. ❜ ❨792❩ ❛ That's all I want; --- to do no harm. ❜ ❨793❩ ❛ I only believe in the opposite of luck, whatever that is. ❜ ❨794❩ ❛ Human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves. ❜ ❨795❩ ❛ You’re too young to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and thanks to that we manage to endure the burden of the past. ❜ ❨796❩ ❛ Love, no matter what else it might be, is a natural talent. You are either born knowing how, or you never know. ❜ ❨797❩ ❛ Whatever you do, you will be sorry all the rest of your life. ❜ ❨798❩ ❛ There is no God worth worrying about. ❜ ❨799❩ ❛ The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love. ❜ ❨800❩ ❛ Wisdom comes to us when it can no longer do any good. ❜ ❨801❩ ❛ Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the very end in itself. ❜ ❨802❩ ❛ Only God knows how much I love you. ❜ ❨803❩ ❛ There is no greater glory than to die for love. ❜ ❨804❩ ❛ Nothing resembles a person as much as the way he dies. ❜ ❨805❩ ❛ Take advantage of it now, while you are young, and suffer all you can, because these things don't last your whole life. ❜ ❨806❩ ❛ Today, when I saw you, I realised that what is between us is nothing more than an illusion. ❜ ❨807❩ ❛ I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century. ❜ ❨808❩ ❛ I want to be myself again, to recover all that I was obliged to give up. ❜ ❨809❩ ❛ The only thing worse than bad health is a bad name. ❜ ❨810❩ ❛ This soup tastes like windows. ❜ ❨811❩ ❛ Why do you insist on talking about what does not exist? ❜ ❨812❩ ❛ One has to live a long time to know a man's true nature. ❜ ❨813❩ ❛ No, not rich, I am a poor man with money, which is not the same thing. ❜ ❨814❩ ❛ My heart has more rooms than a whorehouse. ❜ ❨815❩ ❛ That may be the reason he does so many things, so that he will not have to think. ❜ ❨816❩ ❛ Love if it exists, is something separate: another life. ❜ ❨817❩ ❛ Things did not go as badly for me as they would for you. ❜ ❨818❩ ❛ There are things you do only for love. ❜ ❨819❩ ❛ I’ll have plenty of time to rest when I die. ❜ ❨820❩ ❛ There is no innocence more dangerous than the innocence of age. ❜ ❨821❩ ❛ You treat me as if I were just anybody. ❜ ❨822❩ ❛ The symptoms of love are the same as those of cholera. ❜ ❨823❩ ❛ There is no law, human or divine, that you have not ignored. ❜ ❨824❩ ❛ Why is it that I feel I've known you so many years? ❜ ❨825❩ ❛ Stuff your eyes with wonder, live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. ❜ ❨826❩ ❛ It doesn't matter what you do, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away. ❜ ❨827❩ ❛ We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real? ❜ ❨828❩ ❛ There must be something, something we can’t imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there. You don’t stay for nothing. ❜ ❨829❩ ❛ If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you and you'll never learn. ❜ ❨830❩ ❛ If you drown, at least die knowing you were heading for shore. ❜ ❨831❩ ❛ You can't make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up around them. ❜ ❨832❩ ❛ It was a pleasure to burn. ❜ ❨833❩ ❛ I'm antisocial, they say. I don't mix. It's so strange. I'm very social indeed. It all depends on what you mean by social, doesn't it? ❜ ❨834❩ ❛ Being with people is nice. But I don't think it's social to get a bunch of people together and then not let them talk, do you? ❜ ❨835❩ ❛ Do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays? ❜ ❨836❩ ❛ Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man? ❜ ❨837❩ ❛ I don't talk things. I talk the meaning of things. ❜ ❨838❩ ❛ I'll hold on to the world tight some day. I've got one finger on it now; that's a beginning. ❜ ❨839❩ ❛ I just want someone to hear what I have to say. And maybe if I talk long enough it'll make sense. ❜ ❨840❩ ❛ That's the good part of dying; when you've nothing to lose, you run any risk you want. ❜ ❨841❩ ❛ Someday we'll build the biggest goddamn steamshovel in history and dig the biggest grave of all time and shove war in it and cover it up. ❜ ❨842❩ ❛ You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I know. When I talk, you look at me. ❜ ❨843❩ ❛ You're afraid of making mistakes. Don't be. Mistakes can be profited by. ❜ ❨844❩ ❛ When they give you lined paper, write the other way. ❜ ❨845❩ ❛ The sun burnt every day. It burnt time. ❜ ❨846❩ ❛ We have everything we need to be happy but we aren't happy. Something is missing. ❜ ❨847❩ ❛ I feel I'm doing what I should've done a lifetime ago. ❜ ❨848❩ ❛ I'm not afraid. Maybe it's because I'm doing the right thing at last. Maybe it's because I've done a rash thing and don't want to look the coward to you. ❜ ❨849❩ ❛ Good God, who were those men? I never saw them before in my life! ❜ ❨850❩ ❛ How do you get so empty? Who takes it out of you? ❜ ❨851❩ ❛ It must be right. It seems so right. ❜ ❨852❩ ❛ To everything there is a season. Yes. A time to break down, and a time to build up. A time to keep silence and a time to speak. ❜ ❨853❩ ❛ It's my game. And no one can help me. Not even you. ❜ ❨854❩ ❛ What makes earth feel like hell is our expectation that it should feel like heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. ❜ ❨855❩ ❛ Death is a long process. Your body is just the first part of you that croaks. Beyond that, your dreams have to die. Then your expectations. Your anger and memories must die. Your ego. Your pride and shame and ambition and hope. ❜ ❨856❩ ❛ Help me give up my addiction to hope. ❜ ❨857❩ ❛ Life is short, death is forever. ❜ ❨858❩ ❛ Hope is something really tough and tenacious you have to give up. It’s an addiction to break. ❜ ❨859❩ ❛ If the living are haunted by the dead, then the dead are haunted by their own mistakes. ❜ ❨860❩ ❛ We all wish to be pursued. We all long to be desired. ❜ ❨861❩ ❛ All the demons of hell formerly reigned as gods in previous cultures. No it's not fair, but one man's god is another man's devil. ❜ ❨862❩ ❛ I can become someone else, not out of pressure and desperation, but merely because a new life sounds fun or interesting or joyful. ❜ ❨863❩ ❛ It's my petty fear of personal rejection that allows so many true evils to exist. My cowardice enables atrocities. ❜ ❨864❩ ❛ You fucked up. Game over. So just relax. ❜ ❨865❩ ❛ The greatest weapon any warrior can carry into battle is absolute certainty of her eternal soul. ❜ ❨866❩ ❛ If killing you will end my existence as well, be it. Small loss. Such a life, as your puppet, is not worth living. ❜ ❨867❩ ❛ I might be a touch of a sadist and a little bit jejune but at least I'm not a victim, not any longer. I hope. ❜ ❨868❩ ❛ Dying seems like the greatest weakness, and in a world where people say you're lazy for not shaving your legs, then being dead seems like the ultimate character flaw. ❜ ❨869❩ ❛ Any concept of right versus wrong, is merely a cultural construct relative to one specific time and place. ❜ ❨870❩ ❛ To prove that I exist I must kill you. ❜ ❨871❩ ❛ I'd say that my life has been a way-too-long case history of chasing rainbows. ❜ ❨872❩ ❛ The world is a battle for attention, a war to be heard. ❜ ❨873❩ ❛ Every garden looks beautiful in May. ❜ ❨874❩ ❛ When we neglect to fear such brittle monstrosity, we render it powerless. ❜ ❨875❩ ❛ My taste for power continues to grow, as does my ability to accrue it. ❜ ❨876❩ ❛ Such language! Why don't you just take a dump in my ears? ❜ ❨877❩ ❛ You’d be foolish to count on people displaying high standards of honesty. ❜ ❨878❩ ❛ Depending on her mood, she can be more frightening than any demon or devil you might ever run across. ❜ ❨879❩ ❛ Cross your fingers! Maybe death won't happen to you. ❜ ❨880❩ ❛ Do not die while wearing cheap shoes. ❜ ❨881❩ ❛ Old habits die hard. ❜ ❨882❩ ❛ It's our attachments to a fixed identity that torture us. ❜ ❨883❩ ❛ What do I think I am? In a thousand words; I don't have a clue. ❨884❩ ❛ If I am to be saved it is because your love redeems me. ❜ ❨885❩ ❛ All I wanted was to be loved for myself. ❜ ❨886❩ ❛ I have tasted all the happiness the world can offer. ❜ ❨887❩ ❛ Shall we pity him? Shall we curse him? ❜ ❨888❩ ❛ You have a heart that can hold the entire empire of the world. ❜ ❨889❩ ❛ Look, I am not laughing now, crying, crying for you. ❜ ❨890❩ ❛ Tonight I gave you my soul, and I am dead. ❜ ❨891❩ ❛ You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! ❜ ❨892❩ ❛ Are people so unhappy when they love? --- Yes, when they love and are not sure of being loved. ❜ ❨893❩ ❛ Your soul is a beautiful thing. No emperor received so fair a gift. The angels wept tonight. ❜ ❨894❩ ❛ Blood!...Blood!... That's a good thing! ❜ ❨895❩ ❛ Now I want to live like everybody else. I want to have a life like everybody else. ❜ ❨896❩ ❛ You will be the happiest of women. And we will sing, all by ourselves, till we swoon away with delight. ❜ ❨897❩ ❛ I should be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do anything with me that you pleased. ❜ ❨898❩ ❛ I am going to die of love, I am dying of love. That's how it is. I loved you so. I still love you so. ❜ ❨899❩ ❛ I am dying of love for her, I tell you! If only you knew how beautiful she was when she let me kiss her. ❜ ❨900❩ ❛ He fills me with horror but I do not hate him. How can I hate him? ❜ ❨901❩ ❛ Holy angel, in Heaven blessed, my spirit longs with thee to rest. ❜ ❨902❩ ❛ Nothing is colder or more dead than my heart. ❜ ❨903❩ ❛ I had loved an angel and now I despise a woman. ❜ ❨904❩ ❛ Our lives are one masked ball. ❜ ❨905❩ ❛ Why do you condemn a man whom you have never met, whom no one knows and about whom even you yourself know nothing? ❜ ❨906❩ ❛ He would commit murder for me. ❜ ❨907❩ ❛ If I don't save her from the hands of that humbug, she is lost. But I shall save her. ❜ ❨908❩ ❛ We will go from here together or die together. ❜ ❨909❩ ❛ Your fear, your terror, all of that is just love and love of the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves. The kind that gives you a thrill, when you think of it. ❜ ❨910❩ ❛ Destiny has chained you to me forever. ❜ ❨911❩ ❛ You must never ask me that. ❜ ❨912❩ ❛ Are you afraid that you will change your mind? ❜ ❨913❩ ❛ You must come and fetch me in my dressing room at midnight exactly. ❜ ❨914❩ ❛ The holes in your life are permanent. You have to grow around them, like tree roots around concrete; you mould yourself through the gaps. ❜ ❨915❩ ❛ I have never understood how people can blithely disregard the damage they do by following their hearts. ❜ ❨916❩ ❛ There’s something comforting about the sight of strangers safe at home. ❜ ❨917❩ ❛ I have lost control over everything, even the places in my head. ❜ ❨918❩ ❛ It’s possible to miss what you’ve never had, to even mourn for it. ❜ ❨919❩ ❛ There’s nothing so painful, so corrosive, as suspicion. ❜ ❨920❩ ❛ When did you become so weak? ❜ ❨921❩ ❛ I don’t know where that strength went, I don’t remember losing it. I think that over time it got chipped away, bit by bit, by life, by the living of it. ❜ ❨922❩ ❛ Let’s be honest: women are still only really valued for two things—their looks and their role as mothers. ❜ ❨923❩ ❛ Sadness gets boring after a while, for the sad person and for everyone around them. ❜ ❨924❩ ❛ I’m playing at real life instead of actually living it. ❜ ❨925❩ ❛ I’ve just got to let myself feel the pain, because if I don’t, if I keep numbing it, it’ll never really go away. ❜ ❨926❩ ❛ I am not the girl I used to be. I am no longer desirable, I’m off-putting in some way. It’s as if people can see the damage written all over me, can see it in my face, the way I hold myself, the way I move. ❜ ❨927❩ ❛ Who was it that said following your heart is a good thing? It is pure egotism, a selfishness to conquer all. ❜ ❨928❩ ❛ It’s impossible to resist the kindness of strangers. ❜ ❨929❩ ❛ Sometimes I catch myself trying to remember the last time I had meaningful physical contact with another person, just a hug or a heartfelt squeeze of my hand, and my heart twitches. ❜ ❨930❩ ❛ I have to find a way of making myself happy, I have to stop looking for happiness elsewhere. ❜ ❨931❩ ❛ How did I find myself here? I wonder where it started, my decline; I wonder at what point I could have halted it. Where did I take the wrong turn? ❜ ❨932❩ ❛ Now look -- Now look what you made me do. ❜ ❨933❩ ❛ It’s okay, whatever you did, whatever you’ve done: you suffered, you hurt, you deserve forgiveness. ❜ ❨934❩ ❛ They’re what I lost, they’re everything I want to be. ❜ ❨935❩ ❛ You broke me and I broke us. ❜ ❨936❩ ❛ I’ve been the fool. If he does it with you, he’ll do it to you. ❜ ❨937❩ ❛ I’d never realised, not until now, how shameful it is to be pitied. ❜ ❨938❩ ❛ Sometimes, I don’t want to go anywhere, I think I’ll be happy if I never have to set foot outside the house again. ❜ ❨939❩ ❛ I don’t believe in soul mates, but there’s an understanding between us that I just haven’t felt before, or at least, not for a long time. ❜ ❨940❩ ❛ There can be no greater agony, nothing can be more painful than the not knowing, which will never end. ❜ ❨941❩ ❛ Being the other woman is a huge turn-on, there’s no point in denying it: you’re the one he can’t help but betray his wife for, even though he loves her. That’s just how irresistible you are. ❜ ❨942❩ ❛ I feel a rush of gratitude so strong, it feels almost like love. ❜ ❨943❩ ❛ You don’t know how determined I can be. Once I’ve made my mind up, I’m a force to be reckoned with. ❜ ❨944❩ ❛ The more I want to be oblivious, the less I can be. Life and light will not let me be. ❜ ❨945❩ ❛ You don’t have to be afraid of being alone. It’s not the worst thing, is it? ❜ ❨946❩ ❛ I have felt this way before. On a larger scale, to a more intense degree, of course, but I remember the quality of the pain. You don’t forget it. ❜ ❨947❩ ❛ If he thinks I’m going to sit around crying, he’s got another thing coming. ❜ ❨948❩ ❛ I don’t like to lose. It’s not like me. None of this is like me. I don’t get rejected. I’m the one who walks away. ❜ ❨949❩ ❛ I don’t remember anger, raging fury. I remember fear. ❜ ❨950❩ ❛ I can’t sleep. I haven’t slept in days. I hate it, hate insomnia more than anything, just lying there, brain going round, tick, tick, tick, tick. ❜ ❨951❩ ❛ Maybe the courage I need has nothing to do with telling the truth and everything to do with walking away. ❜ ❨952❩ ❛ I’m not beautiful, and I can’t have kids, so what does that make me? Worthless. ❜ ❨953❩ ❛ Failure cloaked me like a mantle, it overwhelmed me, dragged me under and I gave up hope. ❜ ❨954❩ ❛ It’s an odd thing to say, but I think this all the time; I don’t feel bad enough. ❜ ❨955❩ ❛ Some battles aren’t worth fighting. ❜ ❨956❩ ❛ I never felt guilty. I pretended I did. I had to. ❜ ❨957❩ ❛ I never meant for any of this to happen, we fell in love, what could we do? ❜ ❨958❩ ❛ What bothers me most is that I haven’t got to the end of my story, and I can’t start over with someone else, it’s too hard. ❜ ❨959❩ ❛ A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended. ❜ ❨960❩ ❛ It isn’t only wickedness and scheming that make people unhappy, it is confusion and misunderstanding. ❜ ❨961❩ ❛ Falling in love can be achieved in a single word—a glance. ❜ ❨962❩ ❛ Though you think the world is at your feet, it can rise up and tread on you. ❜ ❨963❩ ❛ I’ve never had a moment’s doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life. ❜ ❨964❩ ❛ It might hurt, it is horribly inconvenient, no good might come of it, but it is what it is to be in love. ❜ ❨965❩ ❛ It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. ❜ ❨966❩ ❛ Come back, come back to me. ❜ ❨967❩ ❛ In my thoughts I make love to you all day long. ❜ ❨968❩ ❛ The truth is I feel rather light headed and foolish in your presence and I don’t think I can blame the heat. ❜ ❨969❩ ❛ Beauty occupies a narrow band. Ugliness, on the other hand, has infinite variation. ❜ ❨970❩ ❛ Is there any meaning in my life that the inevitable death awaiting me does not destroy? ❜ ❨971❩ ❛ However, withered, I still feel myself to be exactly the same person I’ve always been. ❜ ❨972❩ ❛ Hate is a feeling as pure as love, but dispassionate and icily rational. ❜ ❨973❩ ❛ I’m going mad. Let me not be mad. ❜ ❨974❩ ❛ Is everyone really as alive as I am? ❜ ❨975❩ ❛ Every now and then, quite unintentionally, someone teaches you something about yourself. ❜ ❨976❩ ❛ Something has happened, hasn’t it? ❜ ❨977❩ ❛ I like to think that it isn’t weakness or evasion, but a final act of kindness. ❜ ❨978❩ ❛ Is it possible that I am, in the modern term, in denial? ❜ ❨979❩ ❛ How could anyone presume to know the world through the eyes of an insect? ❜ ❨980❩ ❛ Not everything has a cause. Some things are simply so. ❜ ❨981❩ ❛ I’ll be quite honest with you. I’m torn between breaking your neck here and throwing you down the stairs. ❜ ❨982❩ ❛ How old do you have to be before you know the difference between right and wrong? ❜ ❨983❩ ❛ It was never meant to be read. ❜ ❨984❩ ❛ If I fell in the river, would you save me? ❜ ❨985❩ ❛ That was an incredibly bloody stupid thing to do. ❜ ❨986❩ ❛ I want to thank you for saving my life. I’ll be eternally grateful to you. ❜ ❨987❩ ❛ I’m very, very sorry for the terrible distress that I have caused. I’m very, very sorry. ❜ ❨988❩ ❛ Don’t call me that! – Please don’t call me that. ❜ ❨989❩ ❛ It may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it’s mine. ❜ ❨990❩ ❛ Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer. ❜ ❨991❩ ❛ No one ever really gets used to nightmares. ❜ ❨992❩ ❛ I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I’m not. ❜ ❨993❩ ❛ Sublime is something you choke on after a shot of tequila. ❜ ❨994❩ ❛ Some people reflect light, some deflect it, you by some miracle, seem to collect it. ❜ ❨995❩ ❛ Beautiful women are always drawn to men they think will keep them beautiful. ❜ ❨996❩ ❛ The ruminations are mine, let the world be yours. ❜ ❨997❩ ❛ You will fulfil a promise I made years ago but failed to keep. ❜ ❨998❩ ❛ Darkness never satisfies. Especially if it takes something away which it almost always invariably does. ❜ ❨999❩ ❛ I want something else. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore. ❜ ❨1000❩ ❛ What can I say, I’m a sucker for abandoned stuff, misplaced stuff, forgotten stuff, any old stuff. ❜ ❨1001❩ ❛ Is it possible to love something so much, you imagine it wants to destroy you only because it has denied you? ❜ ❨1002❩ ❛ It’s just silent, no sound at all. It’s like something’s waiting. ❜ ❨1003❩ ❛ I guess I’m hoping the weapons will make me feel better, grant me some kind of fucking control. ❜ ❨1004❩ ❛ Oh and something else: – Fuck you. ❜ ❨1005❩ ❛ God I’ve never been afraid like this. ❜ ❨1006❩ ❛ I miss you. I love you. There’s no second I’ve lived that you can’t call your own. ❜ ❨1007❩ ❛ I’m so tired. Sleep’s been stalking me for too long to remember. Inevitable I suppose. ❜ ❨1008❩ ❛ Not seeing the rip doesn’t mean you automatically get to keep clear of the Hey-I’m-Bleeding part. ❜ ❨1009❩ ❛ These days fantasies flourish and die like summer flies. ❜ ❨1010❩ ❛ Yeah I know, I know. This shit’s getting ridiculous. ❜ ❨1011❩ ❛ ‘Fuck’ and 'fall for’ have very different meanings. The first one you do as much as you can. The second one you never ever, ever do. ❜ ❨1012❩ ❛ It’s a nice idea but it reeks of hope. False hope. ❜ ❨1013❩ ❛ It’s, well…one thing in two words: fucked up…very fucked up. Okay three words, four words, who the hell cares…very very fucked up. ❜ ❨1014❩ ❛ Do you think I could spend the night at your place?  ❜ ❨1015❩ ❛ Any fool can pray. ❜ ❨1016❩ ❛ I feel like I haven’t slept in months. My neighbours are scared of me. ❜ ❨1017❩ ❛ I’ve lost my mind? Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe I’m just really drunk. ❜ ❨1018❩ ❛ Perhaps by cleaning out my system I’ll come to a clearing where I can ease myself into peace. ❜ ❨1019❩ ❛ I should be dead. Why am I still here? ❜ ❨1020❩ ❛ Fuck if I know. Your guess is as good as mine. ❜ ❨1021❩ ❛ You are my flesh. You are my bones. I know you too well. I read you too perfectly. ❜ ❨1022❩ ❛ Not all complex problems have easy solutions. ❜ ❨1023❩ ❛ Do you believe in God? I don’t think I ever asked you that one. ❜ ❨1024❩ ❛ We all create stories to protect ourselves. ❜ ❨1025❩ ❛ Are you kidding me? This place is scary. ❜ ❨1026❩ ❛ These days the only thing that gets me outside is when I say: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck this. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. ❜ ❨1027❩ ❛ You like that crap because it reminds you of you. ❜ ❨1028❩ ❛ You may suddenly realise things are not how you perceived them to be at all. ❜ ❨1029❩ ❛ The two hardest tests are the patience to wait for the right moment and the courage not to be disappointed with what we encounter. ❜ ❨1030❩ ❛ People never learn anything by being told, they have to find out for themselves. ❜ ❨1031❩ ❛ Be crazy! But learn how to be crazy without being the center of attention. Be brave enough to live different. ❜ ❨1032❩ ❛ You are someone who is different, but who wants to be the same as everyone else. And that in my view is a serious illness. ❜ ❨1033❩ ❛ God chose you to be different. ❜ ❨1034❩ ❛ Why are you disappointing God with this kind of attitude? ❜ ❨1035❩ ❛ You have two choices, to control your mind or to let your mind control you. ❜ ❨1036❩ ❛ Everyone is indeed crazy, but the craziest are the ones who don't know they're crazy; they just keep repeating what others tell them to. ❜ ❨1037❩ ❛ Haven't you learned anything, not even with the approach of death?  ❜ ❨1038❩ ❛ If people don't like it, they can complain. And if they don't have the courage to complain, that's their problem. ❜ ❨1039❩ ❛ Nothing in this world happens by chance. ❜ ❨1040❩ ❛ I want to continue living my life the way I dream it, and not the way the other people want it to be. ❜ ❨1041❩ ❛ Be like the fountain that overflows, not like the cistern that merely contains. ❜ ❨1042❩ ❛ Collective madness is called sanity. ❜ ❨1043❩ ❛ Consider each day a miracle - which indeed it is, when you consider the number of unexpected things that could happen in each second of our fragile existences. ❜ ❨1044❩ ❛ You say they create their own reality, but what is reality? ❜ ❨1045❩ ❛ Many people don't allow themselves to love because there are a lot of things at risk. A lot of future and a lot of past. ❜ ❨1046❩ ❛ Death frees from the fear of dying. ❜ ❨1047❩ ❛ The danger of an adventure is worth a thousand days of ease and comfort. ❜ ❨1048❩ ❛ The happier people can be, the unhappier they are. ❜ ❨1049❩ ❛ Life is always a matter of waiting for the right moment to act. ❜ ❨1050❩ ❛ It's best to accept life as it really is and not as you imagined it to be. ❜ ❨1051❩ ❛ You don't seem mad at all. ❜ ❨1052❩ ❛ We’re allowed to make a lot of mistakes in our lives, except the mistake that destroys us. ❜ ❨1053❩ ❛ You’re what you are, not what others make of you. ❜ ❨1054❩ ❛ Am I cured? ❜ ❨1055❩ ❛ Real love changes and grows with time and discovers new ways of expressing itself. ❜ ❨1056❩ ❛ A lot of people think something is right, and so that thing becomes right. Is that it? ❜ ❨1057❩ ❛ They think they're normal, because they all do the same thing. ❜ ❨1058❩ ❛ I didn't know that other ‘me’s existed inside me, ‘Me’s that I could love. ❜ ❨1059❩ ❛ I have no idea what's awaiting me. ❜ ❨1060❩ ❛ What will happen when this all ends? ❜ ❨1061❩ ❛ I know that you are capable of great deeds. ❜ ❨1062❩ ❛ A loveless world is a dead world, and always there comes an hour when one is weary of prisons, of one's work, and of devotion to duty, and all one craves for is a loved face, the warmth and wonder of a loving heart. ❜ ❨1063❩ ❛ The truth is that everyone is bored. ❜ ❨1064❩ ❛ I feel more fellowship with the defeated than with saints. Heroism and sanctity don't really appeal to me, I imagine. ❜ ❨1065❩ ❛ If there is one thing one can always yearn for, and sometimes attain, it is human love. ❜ ❨1066❩ ❛ Who would dare to assert that eternal happiness can compensate for even a single moment's suffering? ❜ ❨1067❩ ❛ It's not easy. I've been thinking it over for years. ❜ ❨1068❩ ❛ While we loved each other we didn't need words to make ourselves understood. ❜ ❨1069❩ ❛ People are more often bad than good. ❜ ❨1070❩ ❛ I don't believe in heroism; I know it's easy and I've learned that it can be murderous. ❜ ❨1071❩ ❛ What interests me is living and dying for what one loves. ❜ ❨1072❩ ❛ In fact, nobody is capable of really thinking about anyone, even in the worst calamity. ❜ ❨1073❩ ❛ Nothing in the world is worth turning one's back on what one loves. ❜ ❨1074❩ ❛ Again and again there comes a time in history when the man who dares to say that two and two make four is punished with death. ❜ ❨1075❩ ❛ There are more things to admire in men then to despise. ❜ ❨1076❩ ❛ It is in the thick of calamity that one gets hardened to the truth - in other words, to silence. ❜ ❨1077❩ ❛ What on earth prompted you to take a hand in this? ❜ ❨1078❩ ❛ Your code of morals? What code, if I may ask? ❜ ❨1079❩ ❛ I'm fumbling in the dark, struggling to make something out. But I've long ceased finding anything. ❜ ❨1080❩ ❛ No doubt our love is still there, but quite simply it is unusable, heavy to carry, inert inside of us, sterile as crime or condemnation. ❜ ❨1081❩ ❛ I’m not happy to go, but one needn't be happy to make another start. ❜ ❨1082❩ ❛ I am incapable of suffering for a long time, or being happy for a long time. Which means that I am incapable of anything really worth while. ❜ ❨1083❩ ❛ I should have found the words to keep her with me. ❜ ❨1084❩ ❛ We can't stir a finger in this world without the risk of bringing death to somebody. ❜ ❨1085❩ ❛ The evil that is in the world comes out of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence, if they lack understanding. ❜ ❨1086❩ ❛ There are always flies and itches. That’s why life is difficult to live. ❜ ❨1087❩ ❛ The best protection against anything is a good bottle of wine. ❜ ❨1088❩ ❛ There is no peace without hope. ❜ ❨1089❩ ❛ It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment. ❜ ❨1090❩ ❛ There is always something left to love. ❜ ❨1091❩ ❛ A person doesn’t die when he should but when he can. ❜ ❨1092❩ ❛ Things have a life of their own. It's simply a matter of waking up their souls. ❜ ❨1093❩ ❛ Tell me something: why are you fighting? ❜ ❨1094❩ ❛ I've come to realise only just now that I'm fighting because of pride. ❜ ❨1095❩ ❛ One minute of reconciliation is worth more than a whole life of friendship. ❜ ❨1096❩ ❛ It's better than not knowing why you're fighting. Or fighting, like you, for something that doesn't have any meaning for anyone. ❜ ❨1097❩ ❛ Holy Mother of God! ❜ ❨1098❩ ❛ A person does not belong to a place until there is someone dead under the ground. ❜ ❨1099❩ ❛ I was born a son of a bitch and I'm going to die a son of a bitch. ❜ ❨1100❩ ❛ Bad luck doesn't have any chinks in it. ❜ ❨1101❩ ❛ I plead youth as a mitigating circumstance. ❜ ❨1102❩ ❛ Get those bad thoughts out of your head. You're going to be happy. ❜ ❨1103❩ ❛ Children inherit their parents' madness. ❜ ❨1104❩ ❛ I'll turn to ashes in here but I won't give this miserable town the pleasure of seeing me weep. ❜ ❨1105❩ ❛ You would be good in a war. Where you put your eye, you put your bullet. ❜ ❨1106❩ ❛ Men demand much more than you think. ❜ ❨1107❩ ❛ Even the craziest and most persistent love is just a temporary truth. ❜ ❨1108❩ ❛ If we’re alone you can whisper in my ear any crap you can think of. ❜ ❨1109❩ ❛ You have taken this horrible game very seriously and you have done well because you are doing your duty. ❜ ❨1110❩ ❛ We have the right to pull down your pants and give you a whipping at the first sign of disrespect. ❜ ❨1111❩ ❛ What worries me is not your shooting me, because after all, for people like us it's a natural death. ❜ ❨1112❩ ❛ What worries me is that you've ended up as bad as they are. ❜ ❨1113❩ ❛ It is characteristic of men to deny hunger once their appetites are satisfied. ❜ ❨1114❩ ❛ Dying is much more difficult than one imagines. ❜ ❨1115❩ ❛ If you have to go crazy, please go crazy all by yourself! ❜ ❨1116❩ ❛ We have still not had a death. ❜ ❨1117❩ ❛ How awful, the way time passes. ❜ ❨1118❩ ❛ You may be in command of your war, but I'm in command of my house. ❜ ❨1119❩ ❛ I missed you every hour. ❜ ❨1120❩ ❛ You know what the worst part was? It caught me completely by surprise. ❜ ❨1121❩ ❛ I’ve risked my life for you. ❜ ❨1122❩ ❛ The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak. ❜ ❨1123❩ ❛ I love you, even the part of you that loved him. ❜ ❨1124❩ ❛ I’m sorry it took me so long to see you. ❜ ❨1125❩ ❛ I never really belonged anywhere. ❜ ❨1126❩ ❛ Thanks for being my best friend and making my life bearable.  ❜ ❨1127❩ ❛ Thanks for finding me. ❜ ❨1128❩ ❛ You and I are going to change the world. ❜ ❨1129❩ ❛ I’ve been waiting for you a long time. ❜ ❨1130❩ ❛ I’m not used to people trying to kill me. ❜ ❨1131❩ ❛ You’re shaking. ❜ ❨1132❩ ❛ There's nothing wrong with being a lizard. Unless you were born to be a hawk. ❜ ❨1133❩ ❛ Make me your villain. ❜ ❨1134❩ ❛ Just you and me. It’s always just you and me. ❜ ❨1135❩ ❛ Do you blame me for every mistake I made? For every dumb thing I’ve said? ❜ ❨1136❩ ❛ Well, if it gets too bad, give me a signal. ❜ ❨1137❩ ❛ Did you tell him what I showed you in the dark? ❜ ❨1138❩ ❛ Did you miss me when you were gone? ❜ ❨1139❩ ❛ What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men. ❜ ❨1140❩ ❛ You’re interfering with my plan. ❜ ❨1141❩ ❛ Too much champagne? ❜ ❨1142❩ ❛ I hope you don’t expect fairness from me. It isn’t one of my specialties. ❜ ❨1143❩ ❛ There is something more powerful than any army. Something strong enough to topple kings. Faith. ❜ ❨1144❩ ❛ All you said was that I had to kill you. You didn’t say how. ❜ ❨1145❩ ❛ What is she? She’s everything, you dumb son of a bitch. ❜ ❨1146❩ ❛ She’s an ugly little thing. No child should look like that. Pale and sour, like a glass of milk that’s turned. ❜ ❨1147❩ ❛ I wouldn’t make that mistake again. ❜ ❨1148❩ ❛ It’s a great honor, to save a life. You saved many. ❜ ❨1149❩ ❛ In this world, there are things you can only do alone. ❜ ❨1150❩ ❛ What seems like a reasonable distance to one person might feel too far to somebody else. ❜ ❨1151❩ ❛ If you really want to know something, you have to be willing to pay the price. ❜ ❨1152❩ ❛ Why should you be interested in me? ❜ ❨1153❩ ❛ I have been told I've got a darkish personality. A few times. ❜ ❨1154❩ ❛ It's not as if our lives are divided simply into light and dark. There's shadowy middle ground. ❜ ❨1155❩ ❛ I'll write to you. A super-long letter, like in an old-fashioned novel. ❜ ❨1156❩ ❛ The spotlight doesn't suit me. I'm more of a side dish. ❜ ❨1157❩ ❛ The ground we stand on looks solid enough, but if something happens it can drop right out from under you.  ❜ ❨1158❩ ❛ So once you're dead there's just nothing? ❜ ❨1159❩ ❛ If only I could fall sound asleep and wake up in my old reality. ❜ ❨1160❩ ❛ Is action merely the incidental product of thought, or is thought the consequential product of action? ❜ ❨1161❩ ❛ Nobody can shake off their own shadow. ❜ ❨1162❩ ❛ The silence is so deep it hurts. ❜ ❨1163❩ ❛ I may not look it, but I can be a very patient guy. ❜ ❨1164❩ ❛ Killing time is one of my specialities. ❜ ❨1165❩ ❛ You can't fight it. ❜ ❨1166❩ ❛ Tell me something,—do you believe in reincarnation? ❜ ❨1167❩ ❛ I can’t understand nothingness. I can’t understand it and I can’t imagine it. ❜ ❨1168❩ ❛ I can hardly breathe, and my whole body wants to shrink into a corner.  ❜ ❨1169❩ ❛ I do have a few things wrong with me, but those are strictly problems I keep inside. ❜ ❨1170❩ ❛ I can't take it any more, I can't go on any more. ❜ ❨1171❩ ❛ You don't really have it together. ❜ ❨1172❩ ❛ Is it against the law for me to know it? ❜ ❨1173❩ ❛ I keep having the same dream. ❜ ❨1174❩ ❛ Are you asking because you really want an answer? ❜ ❨1175❩ ❛ I hate this! I don't want to be changed this way! ❜ ❨1176❩ ❛ No contradictions, no irony. They do everything according to numerical formulas. ❜ ❨1177❩ ❛ Want to hear the rest? If you’re not interested, I can stop. ❜ ❨1178❩ ❛ If I didn’t have these memories inside me, I would’ve snapped a long time ago. I would’ve curled up in a ditch somewhere and died. ❜ ❨1179❩ ❛ I don’t know what you’re feeling. I won’t even pretend. ❜ ❨1180❩ ❛ What are you doing here, honey? ❜ ❨1181❩ ❛ You're not even old enough to know how bad life gets. ❜ ❨1182❩ ❛ You don't understand me. ❜ ❨1183❩ ❛ All wisdom ends in paradox. ❜ ❨1184❩ ❛ It is love that overthrows empire. Love that binds two hearts together, come hellfire & brimstone. ❜ ❨1185❩ ❛ I have lost my gift. ❜ ❨1186❩ ❛ Winter is the season of alcoholism and despair. ❜ ❨1187❩ ❛ The seeds of death get lost in the mess that God made us. ❜ ❨1188❩ ❛ They're just memories now. It’s time to forget. ❜ ❨1189❩ ❛ The time has to be right and the heart willing. ❜ ❨1190❩ ❛ The world, a tired performer, offers us another half-assed season. ❜ ❨1191❩ ❛ Capitalism has resulted in material well-being but spiritual bankruptcy. ❜ ❨1192❩ ❛ Grief is natural, overcoming it is a matter of choice. ❜ ❨1193❩ ❛ I want out of that decorating scheme. ❜ ❨1194❩ ❛ With most people suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. ❜ ❨1195❩ ❛ You never get over it but you get where it doesn't bother you so much. ❜ ❨1196❩ ❛ Don't waste your time on life. ❜ ❨1197❩ ❛ I'm a teenager. I've got problems! ❜ ❨1198❩ ❛ Adolescents tend to seek love where they can find it. ❜ ❨1199❩ ❛ Obviously, you've never been a thirteen-year-old girl. ❜ ❨1200❩ ❛ It was a mistake. ❜ ❨1201❩ ❛ It seemed like we were supposed to feel sorry for everything that ever happened, ever. ❜ ❨1202❩ ❛ Buffeted but not broken. ❜ ❨1203❩ ❛ Shit. What have kids got to be worried about now? ❜ ❨1204❩ ❛ If they want trouble, they should go live in Bangladesh. ❜ ❨1205❩ ❛ I can't wait until I get out of here. ❜ ❨1206❩ ❛ When she jumped she probably thought she’d fly. ❜ ❨1207❩ ❛ I do not think the patient truly meant to end her life. Her act was a cry for help. ❜ ❨1208❩ ❛ You're a stone fox. ❜ ❨1209❩ ❛ It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight. ❜ ❨1210❩ ❛ Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. ❜ ❨1211❩ ❛ He broke my heart. You merely broke my life. ❜ ❨1212❩ ❛ I'm sorry to have deceived you so much, but that's how life is. ❜ ❨1213❩ ❛ Words without experience are meaningless. ❜ ❨1214❩ ❛ I loved you. I was a monster, but I loved you. ❜ ❨1215❩ ❛ Come just as you are. ❜ ❨1216❩ ❛ If a violin string could ache, i would be that string. ❜ ❨1217❩ ❛ Perhaps, somewhere, some day, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again. ❜ ❨1218❩ ❛ What's so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own. ❜ ❨1219❩ ❛ Don't touch me; I'll die if you touch me. ❜ ❨1220❩ ❛ You took advantage of my disadvantage. ❜ ❨1221❩ ❛ I walk in a maze I cannot get out of. ❜ ❨1222❩ ❛ Life is just one small piece of light between two eternal darknesses. ❜ ❨1223❩ ❛ Imagine me; I shall not exist if you do not imagine me. ❜ ❨1224❩ ❛ There is no harm in smiling. ❜ ❨1225❩ ❛ There is no point in staying here. There is no point in staying anywhere. ❜ ❨1226❩ ❛ There is nothing more atrociously cruel than an adored child. ❜ ❨1227❩ ❛ I am so tired of being cynical. ❜ ❨1228❩ ❛ Come to live with me, and die with me, and everything with me. ❜ ❨1229❩ ❛ This is the only immortality that you and I may share. ❜ ❨1230❩ ❛ I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else. ❜ ❨1231❩ ❛ I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t’aimais, je t’aimais! ❜ ❨1232❩ ❛ Years of secret suffering has taught me superhuman self-control. ❜ ❨1233❩ ❛ Solitude is corrupting me. I need company and care. ❜ ❨1234❩ ❛ I've missed you terribly. ❜ ❨1235❩ ❛ I've been revoltingly unfaithful to you. ❜ ❨1236❩ ❛ It doesn't matter a bit, because you've stopped caring anyway. ❜ ❨1237❩ ❛ What makes you say I've stopped caring for you? ❜ ❨1238❩ ❛ Nowadays you have to be a scientist if you want to be a killer. ❜ ❨1239❩ ❛ The sun climbs high in the sky, then starts down. People come, then go. ❜ ❨1240❩ ❛ Tell me, have you ever thought of killing me? ❜ ❨1241❩ ❛ I can not believe you are the same human being. ❜ ❨1242❩ ❛ Just how urgent is it? ❜ ❨1243❩ ❛ It is time for you to be going. ❜ ❨1244❩ ❛ How is it you know something like that? ❜ ❨1245❩ ❛ I don’t mind. Your mess is my mess. ❜ ❨1246❩ ❛ Everybody has one thing they do not want to lose. ❜ ❨1247❩ ❛ I’ll be late tonight, so don’t wait up for me. ❜ ❨1248❩ ❛ Nothing I’ve tried to do by myself has ever come off. ❜ ❨1249❩ ❛ I am not catching you in the middle of anything important, am I? ❜ ❨1250❩ ❛ Some things are forgotten, some things disappear, some things die. ❜ ❨1251❩ ❛ My biggest fault is that the faults I was born with grow bigger each year. ❜ ❨1252❩ ❛ To get irritated is to lose our way in life. ❜ ❨1253❩ ❛ A friend to kill time is a friend sublime. ❜ ❨1254❩ ❛ I don't really know if it's the right thing to do. ❜ ❨1255❩ ❛ Faster cars and more cats run over? Who needs it? ❜ ❨1256❩ ❛ Most of everything you think you know about me is nothing more than memories. ❜ ❨1257❩ ❛ Your fate is and will always be the fate of a dreamer. ❜ ❨1258❩ ❛ You’re loads better than you think you are. ❜ ❨1259❩ ❛ You’re only half-living, the other half is still untapped somewhere. ❜ ❨1260❩ ❛ The song is over. But the melody lingers on. ❜ ❨1261❩ ❛ You are extraordinary. ❜ ❨1262❩ ❛ We tend to fool ourselves into thinking that time is our size, but it really goes on and on. ❜ ❨1263❩ ❛ It could be five years or ten years or one month. It's all the same. ❜ ❨1264❩ ❛ I’m forever realising things too late. ❜ ❨1265❩ ❛ I’m not complaining when I say my life is boring. ❜ ❨1266❩ ❛ Weakness is something that rots in the body. ❜ ❨1267❩ ❛ Coming from your mouth, it has the ring of truth, but I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them. ❜ ❨1268❩ ❛ You can't expect something unreal to last anyway, can you? ❜ ❨1269❩ ❛ A wise man does not step betwixt the beast and his meat. ❜ ❨1270❩ ❛ So, kill me. Tell the others I attacked you so you killed me. ❜ ❨1271❩ ❛ Should never have come here. ❜ ❨1272❩ ❛ Hard to guess my tastes. ❜ ❨1273❩ ❛ Can’t it wait until the morning? ❜ ❨1274❩ ❛ You’ll find temper tantrums won’t help you here. ❜ ❨1275❩ ❛ It must have taken courage to return. ❜ ❨1276❩ ❛ It all sounds grimly dystopian. ❜ ❨1277❩ ❛ I am not afraid of you! ❜ ❨1278❩ ❛ All this could be avoided! ❜ ❨1279❩ ❛ You consider me a murderer? ❜ ❨1280❩ ❛ Gross way to die. ❜ ❨1281❩ ❛ What sparks wars? The will to power, the backbone of human nature. ❜ ❨1282❩ ❛ My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops? ❜ ❨1283❩ ❛ Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others. ❜ ❨1284❩ ❛ I believe there is another world waiting for us. A better world. And I'll be waiting for you there. ❜ ❨1285❩ ❛ You are allowed to feel messed up and inside out. It doesn't mean you're defective - it just means you're human. ❜ ❨1286❩ ❛ Power, time, gravity, love. The forces that really kick ass are all invisible. ❜ ❨1287❩ ❛ Unlimited power in the hands of limited people always leads to cruelty. ❜ ❨1288❩ ❛ Truth is singular. Its 'versions' are mistruths. ❜ ❨1289❩ ❛ Dreams are all I have ever truly owned. ❜ ❨1290❩ ❛ Your version of the truth is the only thing that matters. ❜ ❨1291❩ ❛ I believe death is only a door. One closes, and another opens. ❜ ❨1292❩ ❛ By each crime and every kindness, we birth our future. ❜ ❨1293❩ ❛ The healthy can't understand the emptied, the broken. ❜ ❨1294❩ ❛ Lying's wrong, but when the world spins backwards, a small wrong may be a big right. ❜ ❨1295❩ ❛ The weak are meat the strong do eat. ❜ ❨1296❩ ❛ Do whatever you can't not do. ❜ ❨1297❩ ❛ What precipitates outcomes? Vicious acts & virtuous acts. ❜ ❨1298❩ ❛ I remain thankful to God for all his mercies. ❜ ❨1299❩ ❛ You can maintain power over people, as long as you give them something. Rob a man of everything, and that man will no longer be in your power. ❜ ❨1300❩ ❛ Power. The ability to determine another man's luck. ❜ ❨1301❩ ❛ Pain is strong, aye - but friends' eyes, more strong. ❜ ❨1302❩ ❛ Perhaps those deprived of beauty perceive it most instinctively. ❜ ❨1303❩ ❛ Why ask a question whose answer would demand ten more questions? ❜ ❨1304❩ ❛ You can’t lie to your soul. ❜ ❨1305❩ ❛ Why would I want to do a thing like that? ❜ ❨1306❩ ❛ We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. ❜ ❨1307❩ ❛ Better to make life as complete and enjoyable an experience as possible, in case death is shite, which I suspect it will be. ❜ ❨1308❩ ❛ I’m not running away, I’m moving on. ❜ ❨1309❩ ❛ The reasons? There are no reasons. ❜ ❨1310❩ ❛ Some people are easier to love when you don’t have to be around them. ❜ ❨1311❩ ❛ Love does not exist. ❜ ❨1312❩ ❛ Fuck that ‘regrets’ bullshit. ❜ ❨1313❩ ❛ How does it make you feel? ❜ ❨1314❩ ❛ It’s horrible how we always die alone, but no worse than living alone. ❜ ❨1315❩ ❛ Choose us. Choose life. ❜ ❨1316❩ ❛ You fucking knew that fucking cunt would fuck some cunt. ❜ ❨1317❩ ❛ I’m more of a warrior than you’ll ever be. ❜ ❨1318❩ ❛ What does that make us? The lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. ❜ ❨1319❩ ❛ You don’t have to run away.  ❜ ❨1320❩ ❛ I tried to stop because it was only causing pain. I couldn’t. ❜ ❨1321❩ ❛ I’m not going to get crushed. ❜ ❨1322❩ ❛ I love doubt in a woman. It’s nearly as sexy as determination. ❜ ❨1323❩ ❛ Take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty. ❜ ❨1324❩ ❛ You’re a mess. ❜ ❨1325❩ ❛ I know that it’s never left you alone. ❜ ❨1326❩ ❛ Are you asking me or telling me? ❜ ❨1327❩ ❛ You just get used to all the shit. ❜ ❨1328❩ ❛ You can’t afford a conscience in this life. ❜ ❨1329❩ ❛ None of us are saints and scapegoats are always handy. ❜ ❨1330❩ ❛ Doing things doesn’t hurt you; you get hurt by avoiding them. ❜ ❨1331❩ ❛ What was that? ❜ ❨1332❩ ❛ Protect me from those who wish to help us. ❜ ❨1333❩ ❛ You can’t love yourself if you want to hurt things like that. ❜ ❨1334❩ ❛ What happens when people open their hearts? ❜ ❨1335❩ ❛ Nobody likes being alone that much. ❜ ❨1336❩ ❛ I don’t go out of my way to make friends, that’s all. It just leads to disappointment.” ❨1337❩ ❛ Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Only assholes do that. ❜ ❨1338❩ ❛ You need to grab whatever chance you have of happiness where you find it, and not worry about other people too much. ❜ ❨1339❩ ❛ I want you always to remember me. ❜ ❨1340❩ ❛ Despite your best efforts, people are going to be hurt when it’s time for them to be hurt. ❜ ❨1341❩ ❛ What stays in your heart will stay; keep them, and what vanishes will vanish. ❜ ❨1342❩ ❛ All I want in this world is you. ❜ ❨1343❩ ❛ I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning. ❜ ❨1344❩ ❛ No truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. ❜ ❨1345❩ ❛ What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for and to do it so unconsciously. ❜ ❨1346❩ ❛ If you’re in pitch blackness, all you can do is sit tight until your eyes get used to the dark. ❜ ❨1347❩ ❛ I’ve had enough hurt already in my life. More than enough. Now I want to be happy. ❜ ❨1348❩ ❛ People leave strange little memories of themselves behind when they die. ❜ ❨1349❩ ❛ Stop eating yourself up alive. Things will go where they’re supposed to go if you just let them take their natural course. ❜ ❨1350❩ ❛ When your feelings build up and harden and die inside, then you’re in big trouble. ❜ ❨1351❩ ❛ When you fall in love, the natural thing to do is give yourself to it. ❜ ❨1352❩ ❛ If I have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound but mine as well. ❜ ❨1353❩ ❛ Hey, what is it with you? Why are you so spaced out? You still haven’t answered me. ❜ ❨1354❩ ❛ People are strange when you’re a stranger. ❜ ❨1355❩ ❛ The dead will always be dead, but we have to go on living. ❜ ❨1356❩ ❛ You don’t get it, do you? ❜ ❨1357❩ ❛ I am a flawed human being - a far more flawed human being than you ❨1358❩ realise. ❜ ❨1359❩ ❛ At least let me know whether or not I hurt you. ❜ ❨1360❩ ❛ All of us are imperfect human beings living in an imperfect world. ❜ ❨1361❩ ❛ I’ve never once thought about how I was going to die. ❜ ❨1362❩ ❛ So I’m not crazy after all! ❜ ❨1363❩ ❛ I miss you terribly sometimes, but in general I go on living with all the energy I can muster. ❜ ❨1364❩ ❛ Will you wait for me forever? ❜ ❨1365❩ ❛ I don’t want our relationship to end like this. ❜ ❨1366❩ ❛ When am I going to be able to talk to you? I want you to tell me that much, at least. ❜ ❨1367❩ ❛ It hurts not being able to see you. ❜ ❨1368❩ ❛ I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. ❜ ❨1369❩ ❛ The world is an inherently unfair place. ❜ ❨1370❩ ❛ Life frightens me sometimes. I don’t happen to take that as the premise for everything else though. ❜ ❨1371❩ ❛ I’m a real bargain, don’t you think? If you don’t take me, I’ll end up going somewhere else. ❜ ❨1372❩ ❛ We’re all kind of weird and twisted and drowning. ❜ ❨1373❩ ❛ Don’t you think it would be wonderful to get rid of everything and everybody and just go some place where you don’t know a soul? ❜ ❨1374❩ ❛ You’re not telling me anything I don’t know already. ❜ ❨1375❩ ❛ He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past. ❜ ❨1376❩ ❛ If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself. ❜ ❨1377❩ ❛ We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness. ❜ ❨1378❩ ❛ Until they become conscious they will never rebel. ❜ ❨1379❩ ❛ Power is not a means; it is an end. ❜ ❨1380❩ ❛ They are not interested in the good of others; they are interested solely in power, pure power. ❜ ❨1381❩ ❛ Now you begin to understand me. ❜ ❨1382❩ ❛ In the face of pain there are no heroes. ❜ ❨1383❩ ❛ Big Brother is watching you. ❜ ❨1384❩ ❛ Power is tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing. ❜ ❨1385❩ ❛ It’s a beautiful thing, the destruction of words. ❜ ❨1386❩ ❛ The choice for mankind lies between freedom and happiness and for the great bulk of mankind, happiness is better. ❜ ❨1387❩ ❛ Your mind appeals to me. It resembles my own mind. ❜ ❨1388❩ ❛ Reality exists in the human mind, and nowhere else. ❜ ❨1389❩ ❛ We do not merely destroy our enemies; we change them. ❜ ❨1390❩ ❛ How can I help it? How can I help but see what is in front of my eyes? ❜ ❨1391❩ ❛ You must try harder. ❜ ❨1392❩ ❛ Confession is not betrayal. ❜ ❨1393❩ ❛ What you say or do doesn’t matter; only feelings matter. ❜ ❨1394❩ ❛ If they could make me stop loving you —- that would be the real betrayal. ❜ ❨1395❩ ❛ Of pain you can wish only one thing: that it should stop. ❜ ❨1396❩ ❛ To die hating them, that will be freedom. ❜ ❨1397❩ ❛ No one ever seizes power with the intention of relinquishing it. ❜ ❨1398❩ ❛ What can you do against the lunatic who is more intelligent than yourself? ❜ ❨1399❩ ❛ To keep them in control is not difficult. ❜ ❨1400❩ ❛ So long as they are not permitted to have standards of comparison, they never even become aware that they are oppressed. ❜ ❨1401❩ ❛ The consequences of every act are included in the act itself. ❜ ❨1402❩ ❛ The essential act of war is destruction, not necessarily of human lives, but of the products of human labour. ❜ ❨1403❩ ❛ Stupidity is as necessary as intelligence, and as difficult to attain. ❜ ❨1404❩ ❛ I hate purity, I hate goodness! I don’t want virtue to exist anywhere. I want everyone to be corrupt to the bones. ❜ ❨1405❩ ❛ The past is dead, the future is unimaginable. ❜ ❨1406❩ ❛ You know the answer already. Everyone knows it. ❜ ❨1407❩ ❛ You don’t give a damn what they suffer. All you care is yourself. ❜ ❨1408❩ ❛ It is not easy to become sane. ❜ ❨1409❩ ❛ No emotion is pure anymore, because everything is mixed up with fear and hatred. ❜ ❨1410❩ ❛ They say that time heals all things —- they say you can always forget. ❜ ❨1411❩ ❛ The object of waging a war is always to be in a better position in which to wage another war. ❜ ❨1412❩ ❛ I sold you and you sold me. ❜ ❨1413❩ ❛ You do not exist. ❜ ❨1414❩ ❛ How does one man assert his power over another? By making him suffer. ❜ ❨1415❩ ❛ Obedience is not enough. Unless he is suffering, how can you be sure that he is obeying your will and not his own? ❜ ❨1416❩ ❛ Everything else we shall destroy – everything. ❜ ❨1417❩ ❛ Two and two makes five. ❜ ❨1418❩ ❛ Facts, at any rate, can not be kept hidden. ❜ ❨1419❩ ❛ The past is whatever the records and the memories agree upon. ❜ ❨1420❩ ❛ So long as human beings stay human, death and life are the same thing. ❜ ❨1421❩ ❛ If both the past and the external world exist only in the mind, and if the mind itself is controllable—what then? ❜ ❨1422❩ ❛ The lie became the truth. ❜ ❨1423❩ ❛ It is like swimming against a current that sweeps you backwards however hard you struggle. ❜ ❨1424❩ ❛ Turn round and go with the current instead of opposing it. ❜ ❨1425❩ ❛ It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything. ❜ ❨1426❩ ❛ I don’t want to die without any scars. ❜ ❨1427❩ ❛ This is your life and it’s ending one moment at a time. ❜ ❨1428❩ ❛ You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways. ❜ ❨1429❩ ❛ You are not your job, you’re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. ❜ ❨1430❩ ❛ You are not special. ❜ ❨1431❩ ❛ You’re not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else. ❜ ❨1432❩ ❛ The things you used to own, now they own you. ❜ ❨1433❩ ❛ Today is the sort of day where the sun only comes up to humiliate you. ❜ ❨1434❩ ❛ Maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves. ❜ ❨1435❩ ❛ Only after disaster can we be resurrected. ❜ ❨1436❩ ❛ Everything is evolving, everything is falling apart. ❜ ❨1437❩ ❛ We’ve all been raised believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. ❜ ❨1438❩ ❛ Don’t you have other things to do? ❜ ❨1439❩ ❛ Prove you’re alive. If you don’t claim your humanity you will become a statistic. ❜ ❨1440❩ ❛ You have been warned. ❜ ❨1441❩ ❛ If you don’t know what you want, you end up with a lot you don’t. ❜ ❨1442❩ ❛ It’s not love or anything, but I think I like you, too. ❜ ❨1443❩ ❛ If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person? ❜ ❨1444❩ ❛ Why did I cause so much pain? ❜ ❨1445❩ ❛ The lower you fall, the higher you’ll fly. ❜ ❨1446❩ ❛ Maybe self-improvement isn’t the answer, maybe self-destruction is the answer. ❜ ❨1447❩ ❛ May I never be complete. May I never be content. May I never be perfect. ❜ ❨1448❩ ❛ Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head. ❜ ❨1449❩ ❛ We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. ❜ ❨1450❩ ❛ The girl is infectious human waste. ❜ ❨1451❩ ❛ I want to destroy everything beautiful I’ll never have. ❜ ❨1452❩ ❛ On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero. ❜ ❨1453❩ ❛ If you could be either God’s worst enemy or nothing, which would you choose? ❜ ❨1454❩ ❛ It is like you’re never really awake; but you’re never really asleep. ❜ ❨1455❩ ❛ Worker bees can leave. Even drones can fly away. The Queen is their slave. ❜ ❨1456❩ ❛ A moment is the most you could ever expect from perfection. ❜ ❨1457❩ ❛ The people you’re trying to step on, we’re everyone you depend on. ❜ ❨1458❩ ❛ You have to give up! ❜ ❨1459❩ ❛ Reject the basic assumptions of civilisation, especially the importance of material possessions. ❜ ❨1460❩ ❛ Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing. ❜ ❨1461❩ ❛ You have to realise that someday you will die, Until you know that, you are useless. ❜ ❨1462❩ ❛ A tiger can smile. A snake will say it loves you. ❜ ❨1463❩ ❛ Lies make us evil. ❜ ❨1464❩ ❛ If you died right now, how would you feel about your life? ❜ ❨1465❩ ❛ You always kill the one you love. ❜ ❨1466❩ ❛ Maybe we should always assume the worst. ❜ ❨1467❩ ❛ Put a gun to my head and paint the wall with my brains. ❜ ❨1468❩ ❛ Which is worse? Hell or nothing? ❜ ❨1469❩ ❛ A minute of perfection is worth the effort. ❜ ❨1470❩ ❛ You’re going to die, tonight. You might die in one second or in one hour, you decide. ❜ ❨1471❩ ❛ Lie to me. Tell me the first thing off the top of your head. Make something up. ❜ ❨1472❩ ❛ I don’t give a shit. I have a gun. ❜ ❨1473❩ ❛ I know who you are. I know where you live. ❜ ❨1474❩ ❛ Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of your life. ❜ ❨1475❩ ❛ My philosophy of life is that I can die at any moment. And the tragedy of my life is that I do not. ❜ ❨1476❩ ❛ Everything is so far away, a copy of a copy of a copy. You can’t touch anything and nothing can touch you. ❜ ❨1477❩ ❛ There are a lot of things we don’t want to know about the people we love. ❜ ❨1478❩ ❛ We just had a near-life experience. ❜ ❨1479❩ ❛ If people think you are dying, they give you their full attention. They listen instead of just waiting for their turn to speak. ❜ ❨1480❩ ❛ I am nothing, and not even that. ❜ ❨1481❩ ❛ This isn’t really death. —- We’ll be legends. We won’t grow old. ❜ ❨1482❩ ❛ Stop trying to control everything and just let go. Let go. ❜ ❨1483❩ ❛ The amazing miracle of death, when one second you’re walking and talking, and the next second you’re an object. ❜ ❨1484❩ ❛ Only if we’re caught and punished can we be saved. ❜ ❨1485❩ ❛ I never thought about how important the sky was until I didn't have one. ❜ ❨1486❩ ❛ Dreams are like that: they go in and out of memories and scenes, but they're never real. They're never real, and I hate them because they aren't. ❜ ❨1487❩ ❛ Power isn’t control at all — power is strength, and giving that strength to others. ❜ ❨1488❩ ❛ A leader isn’t someone who forces others to make him stronger. ❜ ❨1489❩ ❛ A leader is someone willing to give his strength to others that they may have the strength to stand on their own. ❜ ❨1490❩ ❛ In the end, we are alone. ❜ ❨1491❩ ❛ It is like a piece of my soul is lost, empty. ❜ ❨1492❩ ❛ If my life on Earth must end, let it end with a promise. Let it end with hope. ❜ ❨1493❩ ❛ Sorry? Sorry isn't enough. ❜ ❨1494❩ ❛ Every single thing I ever loved is beyond my reach now. Everything I ever wanted. Everything I ever was. ❜ ❨1495❩ ❛ Will you stay with me? ❜ ❨1496❩ ❛ A leader doesn't make pawns - he makes people. ❜ ❨1497❩ ❛ Do you hear that? The pulse of life from your heart, the slow in-and-out from your lungs? Even when you are silent, even when you block out all noise, your body is still a cacophony of life. Mine is not. ❜ ❨1498❩ ❛ It is the silence that drives me mad. The silence that drives the nightmares to me. ❜ ❨1499❩ ❛ There is nothing between us but rain. There is nothing between us at all. ❜ ❨1500❩ ❛ I like a little chaos. ❜

[quinncupine]

May I request Alpha Bakugo, Midoriya, and Todoroki (seperate) always protecting their Omega reader? How would they react if another alpha tried to claim the omega? Likee hmm say for example the two are walking on the street then another alpha just jumps in and talks about like how attractive reader's scent is and stuff! It is alright if youre not comfortable with writing with this many characters, this ABO au, or this idea in general!

Notes: Hi Anon! I’m so sorry this took longer than expected to do! I promise I didn’t forget you! I don’t really know much about the ABO au so I had to do a bit of research first. I’m not really sure if I landed it though, but I did have fun writing it! It’s always fun to try out something new, so I do hope you enjoy it! I also tried to keep it gender-neutral.

Warnings: Language, mild violence, slight blood, possessive behavior, Alpha-Omega au, drinking-drunken behavior

Word Count: ~2.7K

Wanna request something?

...

BAKUGO

Katsuki is the definition of aggressive. It's no surprise he'd be just as aggressive as an Alpha, especially when it came to you. Your mere presence was enough to send him into ultra possessive protective mode.

The two of you were heading back to your shared apartment after one of your weekly date nights. Since he was a pro hero, he didn't often have much free time, so he set aside a specific night each week, just for you. He wasn't the best at showing his love through words, so his actions more than made up for the fact.

A muscled arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked through the deserted street. The ground seemed to be swaying a bit, or that might've just been you. One drink too many could do that. Katsuki warned you not to drink so much, but you didn't listen and as much as he complained that he wouldn't carry you home, he still held most of your body weight up by a single firm hand.

"I love you," you cooed, dropping your head into his shoulder with a smile.

His hand tightened around you and a cocky grin spread across his face. "I know."

With a slight pout, you huffed, "say it back."

The tiniest roll of his eyes before he grabbed your chin with his free hand and tilted it up so he could look into your eyes. You were about to question him but his lips silenced you with a deep kiss. "You know I do." He tried to sound annoyed, but you could see straight through it.

He wouldn't be caught dead being this sentimental with you if anyone else was nearby, especially if another Alpha was near. To him, acting like that opened someone up for weakness, and with you on the line, he would never allow that. But since it was just the two of you alone, he allowed himself to show just a slight bit of passion. These little moments were reserved solely for you.

Wrapping your arms around him as much as you could, you let out a heavy sigh with sleepy eyes. The peaceful night air had a bit of a chill to it, but that was nothing compared to the heavenly warmth radiating from his body. That was until you felt his whole person stiffen.

Confused, you looked up. Then the smell hit you. Another Alpha's scent. Even in your hazy state, it smelled overwhelming, intentional…and all-too aggressive. It literally smelled like trouble. You'd had trouble in the past with other Alpha's coming on way too strong, which was one of the reasons why you were so grateful to have found Katsuki. He doesn't put up with any bullshit and isn't afraid to fight others off.

Katsuki's nails dug into your waist, his feet abruptly coming to a stop. Jaw clenched so hard, teeth nearly cracking from the pressure. Ruby-red eyes narrowed into deadly slits. A vicious snarl itching to see some action. It was a sight you were used to seeing from him. Criminals and heroes alike tried to avoid that exact look he was wearing right now.

Plenty of Alpha's had tried to come onto you in the past, but none have been so bold as to outright try to challenge Katsuki, especially in the dead of night on some deserted street. The moment they got a whiff of that dangerous heady scent, dripping with aggression and possessiveness, they immediately backed off. He didn't know the meaning of mercy.

When you turned your head to pinpoint the source of the scent, he twisted around first, swinging you to his back in one easy motion. The street looked empty from where you poked your head around his arm.

"Get lost fuckwad," he growled, "or die."

The shadows shifted and a man clad in loose black clothes that blended into the darkness so well you were having a hard time keeping your eyes on him. It was only when he stepped into the glow of a streetlamp from a block away did you finally see him clearly. He casually crossed his arms behind his head. A way of showing Katsuki that he wasn't threatened in the slightest. Even a full block away the poignant smell of him invaded your nose.

"What a temper on this one," he purred with a sultry charm guised to disarm, a complete contradiction of his hostile scent. "You know babe, you'd be much better off with me."

"Don't fucking talk to them," Katsuki snapped, fingers digging into the fabric covering your arm. "Or I'll kill you."

"It's not worth it," you tugged on his jacket a bit. "Let's just go."

Even as you said it, you knew it was pointless. Katsuki never backs down from a fight. Violence is ingrained in his DNA.

"Gonna take orders from an Omega? At least I know how to keep them in place, like a real Alpha," he smirked, crossing the street. A deep growl rumbled in Katsuki's chest, but the other Alpha ignored it. "Can't you smell it? I could smell their scent three blocks away."

You were on suppressants but alcohol is notorious for diluting their effect and of course, you had to show him up and drink more than him tonight. Was your scent out of control? You didn't think so and Katsuki hadn't said anything about it all night. You couldn't smell it, but if that Alpha had followed you all this way, it must've been strong.

As the Alpha drew closer, you realized just how bulky the man was. He stood taller than Katsuki by almost a foot and that grin stitched into his face was making you nervous. The whole situation was stressing you out so much Katsuki could most likely smell it comes off you in waves. His bright vermillion eyes found yours and he huffed. That instinct to protect was warring with his compulsion for reckless abandon. Before he could say anything, the Alpha made the first move.

With a snap of his teeth, the burly man took off towards Katsuki and Katsuki didn't waste a second. He pushed you back and charged. The two met in a head-on collision. A bright explosion lit up the darkened street with an echoing boom. When the light faded and the smoke cleared, Katsuki stood over his opponent, an angry snarl spilling from his grinning face as he smashed his foot into the Alpha's singed back. What was the phrase? All bark and no bite.

Once he was sure the Alpha was down for the count, he trudged over to you. Without a word, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away. After a few minutes, he deemed it far enough and stopped to pull you into his chest, resting his chin on your head.

"The nerve of these assholes," he muttered, eyes still glaring at the soft shadows surrounding them. He wouldn't feel better until you were back home, under his watchful eye. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," you mumbled into his shirt, closing your eyes with a relieved sigh. "I'm always fine when I'm with you."

MIDORIYA

Izuku isn't a typical Alpha. His demeanor is usually quiet and kind so it always surprised most people to find out he was one. Only making sense when he went into battle mode. The sheer ferocity this guy displays while fighting is one of the most intense things anyone will experience. R.I.P any brave soul that decides to challenge him. He gives it his all, especially if it means protecting someone under his care; namely you.

After leaving the theater (yes, Izuku drags you to each new All Might Movie premier, and no, you don't have a choice in the matter) you lean into him, listening to him gush about every detail the movie had gotten right or horribly wrong. This man was a serious fanboy. His voice was soothing to hear to so you could listen to him prattle on forever if you had your way.

The two of you had almost made it to the car when someone stumbled into you. If Izuku hadn't had his arm around your waist, you would've fallen down with the obviously drunk man. He pulled you away from the drunkard and did a quick check to make sure you weren't hurt before turning his attention to the man. "Hey, are you alright buddy?"

"Dammit!" the man groaned as he crawled back to his feet, swaying from side to side once he made it up. "Watch where you're goin'," he slurred out, lips having a hard time forming the words. Then he sniffed and blinked a few times, focusing on you. "Mmm, you smell good."

Izuku stiffened, subtly stepping in front of you, eyes narrowed. "Your drunk, it's time you went home."

"What's a lovely thing like you doing out so late?" he ignored Izuku entirely, puffing out his chest with a sleazy grin. That's when the scent hit you. Strong, mixed with the smell of alcohol. It made your nose wrinkle in disgust. "Come here doll, I can take good care of ya."

A low rumble vibrated deep within Izuku's chest. A warning. A threat. Most sensible Alpha's would've taken the cue, but this guy was far from anything resembling sense. Izuku is, for the most part, a rational Alpha, but when the drunkard stepped closer to touch you, he lost it.

It was so quick, you almost missed it. Izuku snatched the grimy hand, twisted it which in turn forced the man to twist as well, and sent him flying with a powerful kick to the rear. He kicked him so hard the Alpha flew halfway across the parking lot, landing in a small puddle with a loud splash. It took a moment for him to roll over, body still trying to process what just happened before finally falling back into the puddle with a long-winded groan.

Izuku stood rigid, eyes locked on the Alpha who had curled in on himself. He gnashed his teeth a few times trying to even out his huffy breaths. Small sparks of green electricity quietly crackled off his skin.

"Izuku?" you grabbed one of his fisted hands and pulled it close.

He looked down at you, still trying to calm his racing heart. Izuku didn't like to get like this in front of you and that in itself was making him more upset. But a part of him loved the fact that he could protect you so easily and that you took comfort in that fact.

The Alpha, apparently too drunk to remember what just happened, rolled out of the puddle and back to his feet. His back was dripping wet, but he didn't even seem to notice as he staggered off into the night.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, finally turning to you.

You wrapped your arms around his muscly frame, fingertips just barely meeting on his back. "What're you sorry for? You protected me, didn't you?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Pride swelled in his chest. A slight tinge rushed to his cheeks so he tucked his face into your neck, nuzzling his nose deep into the crook. Your scent was always so calming and he stayed like that for a minute until he remembered you were both still standing outside the car. "Let's go home."

TODOROKI

Shoto is a strong silent Alpha. He's probably the calmest of the three, but that doesn't mean he won't hesitate to kick anyone's ass if they dare mess with you. He's mastered the evil eye glare and combined with his natural Alpha aura, most steer clear.

You had decided to take a day trip to the next prefecture over to see your friends and had asked Shoto to pick you up from the train station. So, there he was, standing on the platform, umbrella in hand as the rain came down in a steady, freezing pour.

When the train finally pulled in, he scanned the cars until he saw you step out. Even in the heavy rain, he could pick up your scent and it was screaming distress. It confused him until he saw why…or rather smelled why. Stepping out behind you was a lanky man, mere inches from your back. His grinning face was bent next to yours as he talked with you, well more like at you. Large hands ghosted over your hair, taking in heavy whiffs of you. A grimace stuck on your face as you did everything in your power to ignore him, but trying to ignore an Alpha was like trying to ignore a blowhorn to the face. Loud, obnoxious, and completely overwhelming. The longer you ignored him, the more irritated he grew.

Shoto snapped the umbrella closed so hard he almost broke it. He no longer cared about getting wet and used the tip to wedge himself between the crowd of people. The hair on his neck stood on end. The rain on his right side froze the minute it touched his skin while on his left, it turned to steam. He tried to suppress that ball of rage building in the back of his throat, only for an aggravated growl to escape. Anyone who managed to catch his wrathful gaze quickly jumped out of his warpath.

The Alpha placed his hand on your shoulder and that was the final straw. You turned to swat him off, which was apparently the wrong thing to do. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you right up against him, dark eyes narrowed, teeth bared. Panic took over as you struggled to free yourself from his too-tight grip.

An umbrella came out of nowhere, whacking the Alpha right in the nose. He let go of your wrist with a startled yelp, stumbling back a few feet.

Shoto suddenly materialized between the two of you. You'd been so distracted that you didn't even realize you could smell Shoto's scent. But now that he was up close, it was all you could smell. Strong, powerful, and…furious.

"What the fu-AAAH!" With a scream, he toppled over. Both legs were frozen together in a thick column of ice. He hit the ground hard, head smacking on the wet concrete.

Shoto towered over him, shooting that perfected evil eye, face masked in shadows. "Next time," he growled, voice low and terrifyingly calm, "I'd advise not to touch people without their permission." Crouching next to his head, he glanced down at his left hand where a small flame erupted, and despite the pouring rain, only seemed to grow brighter. "Or you might get burned."

The man wisely stilled, eyes wide. "I didn't know they already had a mate dude, I swear."

"Regardless, don't ever let me catch you treating someone like that again," he snapped his hand closed, extinguishing the flame. "Is that understood?"

The threat was heard loud and clear but the Alpha glanced at you and Shoto grabbed his chin and pulled his gaze back to him. "Don't ever look at them again."

A nod and Shoto threw his face to the side, standing up. Taking a moment to compose himself again, he turned to you, hunched in on yourself, looking slightly embarrassed. Too many people were staring because Shoto had made a scene. He could care less about what other people thought. Someone had messed with you and he had to make it right.

Holding a hand out, you accepted it and he ushered you away. The both of you were soaking wet but he still opened the umbrella again, shielding you from the rain. Once you were far enough away from the station and other people, he stopped to inspect you.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, looking for any obvious signs or lingering scent marks.

"No, I'm fine." You hugged yourself, not sure if you were shivering from the cold wet or from that creep, possibly both.

With a frown, he pulled you in close. His left side immediately warmed you up and you buried your head as far as you could into his chest, that familiar, safe scent surrounding you. "Thanks, Sho."

That intense anger was slowly ebbing away the longer you held onto him. That need to protect, to comfort taking its place.  You alone were the only thing that seemed to be able to calm him down when he was so worked up. Wrapping his free arm around you, tucking you in as tightly as possible, he kissed the top of your head. "You know I'd do anything for you."

[fortuositywritings]

Love Bug (Wanda x Reader)

Summary

So when Peter is bitten by a spider, he gets cool superpowers; but when you’re bitten by one, you get loopy and say things you never meant to say.

“I can’t get your smile out of my mind. I think about your eyes all the time. Beautiful but you don’t even try.”

Word Count: 5688

Warnings: None unless you count someone fainting and mention of spider

*********************

“That is freaky.”

“Come on, you’re impressed. Just say it’s impressing.”

“It’s impressingly freaky,” you say tapping on the glass of the container that holds Peter’s new tech. “Stark really took taxidermy to the next level.”

“Relax. It’s mechanical. It needs a name. I’m thinking ‘RoboSpider’,” Peter says enthusiastically as you are both watching the metallic spider crawl in its container. It looks so real. It’s creepy.

“That’s a stupid name,” you turn to Peter.

“I think it fits him.”

“Of course you do, Spider Boy,” you reply. Peter just scoffs. 

“What does it do?”

Peter narrows his eyes on the spider. “I think it has a camera for surveillance. I’m sure it does something cool.”

“Didn’t they tell you when they gave it to you? Or give you a manual or something?”

“No, they don’t know I know about it yet, but I’m sure we can figure it out,” he says as he begins to open the container.

“What do you mean they don’t kno-”

“What are you two doing?” The unexpected voice behind you has you and Peter turn around wide-eyed so quickly you could Pietro a run for his money. You and Peter stand in front of the container and let out a panicked, “Nothing!”

You finally take in whom the voice belongs to and the panic washes away from both you and Peter. You honestly should have known who it was off the bat when that very damn voice haunts your dreams. Well, ‘haunts’ isn’t really the right word.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you sigh in relief as Wanda approaches you both.

“Just me?” she quirks an eyebrow. 

And suddenly, for reasons unknown (you know the reasons, you just won’t admit them yet), the panic comes back and you begin to ramble, “Yes, I mean NO! I mean yes you but not like ‘just’ you, you know? Like ‘it’s only you’ - er ‘it’s you only’ but like a good ‘it’s you only’ as in we’re glad it’s you and not someone else who came in -”

“Y/N, I think she gets it,” Peter stops your ramble. 

You see Wanda giving you what seems to be an amused smile. You feel your cheeks heat up as you try looking anywhere else. Is it getting hot in here?

“Well, I was looking for you to ask if either of you wanted to watch a movie named ‘13 Going On 30’? Pietro says one of the characters looks like Bruce.”

You look to Peter to answer. You don’t think you can open your mouth anymore without embarrassing yourself.

“Yeah, we’ll be right down,” he replies with ease, lucky asshole. 

You finally look at Wanda as she gives you a parting smile and you give an awkward one in return. Your eyes follow her until she is out of sight. 

“You’ve got it bad,” Peter teases.

“Shut up,” you reply as you turn your attention back to the container.

Peter continues, “Like I thought I was bad at talking to girls-”

The empty container. Panic seems to be the mood for today as it comes back full force.

“Peter.”

“-but that was like next level.”

“Peter!”

“What?” he finally turns to you.

“RoboSpider is missing.”

“Aha! See, it’s not that stupid,” he says with a victorious smile on his face that quickly falls, “Wait what did you say?” 

You simply point at the glaringly empty container. 

“That’s not good.”

You give Peter the most sarcastic face you could muster. 

“Help me look! It couldn’t have gone far,” Peter gets on his knees and begins searching for the spider. 

You frantically search countertops, “Does it not have an off switch?”

“I don’t know.”

“Obviously or this wouldn’t be happening right now!” you whisper scream.

“Here, RoboSpider. Tsk tsk tsk. Come on out, boy,” Peter starts calling.

He looks ridiculous doing so from the floor. You step in front of him.

“You really think that’s going to work?”

He looks up at you and shrugs. You feel like you’re a minute away from sweating. Less than a minute based on the tickling sensation on your neck. Maybe Peter can tell to cause he’s looking at your neck, his eyes widening. You don’t know why it’s so shocking you’re sweating as he should be too because if Tony finds out you lost RoboSp- the damn spider, he will have your heads. 

“Y/N, don’t freak out.”

Why did he have to say that? Freaking out is in your very nature. You do it so well. You’ve been doing it all day. Suddenly, you are all too aware of what you thought was sweat tickling your neck but now realize, unless you have discovered a new ability and become a water bender, sweat does not move like that. You close your eyes and try to steady your pulse. Don’t freak out.

“Peter. get. it. off.”

As hard as you tried to stop it, your pulse begins racing again as Peter slowly rises to his feet grabbing a cup and a paper from the counter. “Relax, I don’t think it bites.”

You open your eyes and ask once you see Peter reaching out, “Why the paper and cup then?”

“Precaution.”

You feel the spider still and somehow that pushes you over the edge. Your pulse goes into overdrive, your whole body breaks into goosebumps, and you finally let the urge to swat at your neck take over. It’s as if Peter and the spider sense this. All too quickly, the following happen: you bring your hand up to smack at your neck, Peter races to it first with the cup, and the spider bites down. 

“Ow, shit!”

“Got it!” 

Peter smiles triumphantly as you rub at your neck. He places the spider back in its container and properly closes it.

“You said it didn’t bite.”

“I also said not to freak out. Are you okay? Let me see,” he takes your hand off your neck to check the bite.

“Is it gross? Is it red? Green? Pulsing? Am I gonna die? Peter, say something!”

“It’s not there. I don’t see any bite. I think you might have just smacked yourself with your hand.”

Your hand comes back to your neck as you feel around. You don’t feel any bump. You take out your phone to look for a mark but don’t see one.

“Count yourself lucky, Parker,” you glare at him over your phone.

“Okay, but you should have seen your face,” he laughs as you both exit the lab. You just roll your eyes.

As you are walking to the common space, you feel your legs go a little numb. Peter notices you walking funny.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure him, “I think I’m still a little shaken up is all.”

You stop Peter right as you’re about to turn into the common space. You warn him, “We do not speak of what happened in the lab.”

Peter raises his hands up in defense, “Hey, I’m not trying to get in trouble either.”

“Okay, good.”

“Great. Now let’s join everyone and watch Bruce’s twin on screen while you stare at Wanda the whole movie.”

You smack his arm and then grab it leading him into the room as you comment, “Okay, but like that guy really does look like Bruce. How have I never noticed?”

That you didn’t deny the Wanda comment is not lost on either of you.

You can already smell the popcorn in the air right as you walk in. You immediately spot Wanda standing by the TV talking to her brother who seems to be growing frustrated with the remote. You note everyone who has joined you for the movie. Bucky and Steve are sitting on the long couch talking. Bucky looks like he had just woken up from a nap, his shirt wrinkled and hair slightly sticking up on one side. Steve is freshly showered wearing his usual attire. With his muscles showing through his shirt and his posture even as he’s sitting down, he looks untouchable, but you know differently with the bandage on the side of his forehead covering a wound he claims to be from a mission. Turning your head a bit more, you see Nat and Clint heading over to the couch with buckets of popcorn. Both are dressed for the gym but neither looked sweaty so you assume they decided to watch the movie instead. Farther down you see Bruce kneeled beside the single massage chair people usually fought over. You think he’s lost something under the chair.

You turn back to Wanda. She looks so soft in her matching sweats and crew neck sweater that you had not noticed she was wearing earlier. Granted, you were busy freaking out about getting caught with the spider. You can see her eyes shining bright and lips form a line as if trying to hold back laughter. She looks so carefree in the moment and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone so ethereal as she crosses her arms covering the bottom of her gorgeous cascading hair that always tempts your fingers to touch.

I wonder if it’s as soft as it looks.

“What is?” Peter says breaking your reverie.

“What?” You turn to look at him.

“You said you wondered if it’s as soft as it looks.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Do you think we should go help Pietro? He looks like he’s struggling,” you change the subject.

“Yeah, it’s kind of painful to watch.”

You and Peter walk over to the twins. Wanda spots you two first and gives you both a friendly smile. Trying not to look silly standing there blushing, you clear your throat, “Having trouble there, McQueen?”

Pietro looks even more exasperated after your comment.

“Once again, Y/N. Your teasing is of no use if I do not know what you are talking about.”

You roll your eyes, “I swear, one of these days it will be my turn to pick a movie and rest assured, it will be Cars. Now what is wrong with the remote?”

“I press up and down but it is moving side to side on the screen. And then I press the off and on button but it does not do it on time. It is broken.”

Peter takes the remote from Pietro. 

You hear a quiet giggle from Wanda. You look at her and can clearly see her holding in laughter. You throw her a confused look wondering what could be so funny to have her like this. She nods past your shoulder so you turn to look. In your line of vision, you see Bruce fiddling with a remote on a massage chair that looks out of control rocking Bruce forwards and back over and over. You turn slightly to see Peter on what you now understand is not the TV remote pressing the up and down buttons. It is single handedly, the funniest goddamn thing you’ve witnessed. How Wanda kept it together that long, you don’t know because you do not last a second when it all clicks in your head. What you do know is Wanda’s laughter is the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard. Forget your favorite song of the month. You could hear her laughter on repeat forever. 

Everyone in the room turns to look at the two of you laughing. Finally, after calming yourself down and wiping the tears from under your eyes, you wordlessly take the control from Peter, walk on over to Bruce, trade remotes with him, walk back over to Peter, and give him the correct remote. Everyone laughs save Peter, Bruce, and Pietro who look embarrassed. 

“For two of the smartest people I know, that was just absurd,” you tell Peter. “I mean I get Pietro, but you Parker. Shame.”

“Hey! I understood that one,” Pietro replies.

Wanda just giggles beside you and you don’t know if it’s simply because of the whole control fiasco or because of her laughter that you feel so light inside. So light and happy in fact that for the first time since you met her, you look at her and you give her an honest to god genuine smile first. It is not an awkward smile you returned but one you gave her first without feeling shy or embarrassed. This time Wanda is giving you what you think looks like a shy smile though you know that could just well be wishful thinking. It is a smile nevertheless and it makes you feel like you are flying. You actually have to look down to make sure your feet are on the ground. You only look back up when you hear her voice again.

“I’m going to get some drinks. Y/N, come with me?” She nods her head toward the kitchen.

Quick, what do I say. “Of course, I’ll come with you anywhere.” NO! Absolutely not. That sounds dirty.Yes, I’ll follow you anywhere. Nope. That one sounds creepy. Oh, god. Now she’s looking at me weird. Oh my god, please don’t be reading my mind right now.

“No, you are very much saying everything aloud right now,” you hear Pietro say. You see color rise to Wanda’s cheeks. You turn to Pietro and Peter and if anything goes by Peter’s shocked face, you very much did say everything out loud. Pietro’s face is so damn smug as he passes by you and whispers, “I personally think ‘I’ll follow you anywhere’ sounds romantic.” 

Peter follows closely behind Pietro and just gives you a shrug that says “what am I supposed to do?” when you give a desperate look that screams “HELP ME”. You close your eyes as you turn back around to Wanda.

“Can we just pretend I said ‘yeah, sure’ and nothing I actually said?”

You hear her say, “If that is what you want, okay. Now let’s go. I don’t think they will wait for us to start the movie.”

You finally open your eyes when you feel Wanda tug on your arm. She doesn’t let go until you make it to the fridge and when she does you feel warm where she touched you. You really need to get it together. She opens the fridge and takes out several sodas. As she hands you a few to carry, your fingers brush and though the cans are cold, you know they are not the reason goosebumps suddenly appear along your arm. You clear your throat and take a quick step back. Maybe a little too quick as you bump into the counter. 

“Are you alright?” Wanda asks.

Embarrassed you answer, “Yep, totally cool.” Totally not thinking about how badly I’d like to hold your hand or anything. Nope. Totally cool. “Awesome. Excited really to um watch the movie.”

She looks up at you with rosy cheeks and a confused look. You can’t blame her. You don’t even know where you are going with this.

You feign hearing something from where everyone else is. 

“I actually think I hear the movie playing. We should um go. We don’t want to miss the-the start and everyone is probably thirsty,” you stutter walking backwards back to the TV viewing area. 

You turn around and shake your head at yourself. You can hear Wanda’s footsteps following not too far behind. You both begin handing out sodas to everyone who decided to watch the movie. You stand off to the side with the soda you were left with looking for where to sit. Bruce was still sitting in the massage chair that is now working in the way he likes. Nat, Bucky, Steve, and Clint sit on the longer couch. Pietro lies on his side on the floor right in front of the TV. Lastly, on the smaller couch sits Peter and now Wanda. Seems like you will be taking the floor as well. 

You decide you’ll sit by Pietro. Better this way than sitting by his sister who is looking at you so intensely as if studying you or trying to figure what you are thinking without actually reading your thoughts. You know she wouldn’t do that if she could help it. She respects everyone enough to not invade their minds. Little does she know she invades yours everyday in the least expected way. 

Just as you are about to sit, Peter calls your name, “Oh, Y/N, here you can have my seat.” 

Fucking well-mannered asshole, you think to yourself. But then you are not so sure you kept that in your head after you hear Pietro chuckle.

You walk on over to the small couch as Peter crouches to the floor. You’ve been trying to avoid Wanda’s gaze but the closer you get the harder it is. You finally look at her and her gorgeous eyes that always make your head spin. You’re rather dizzy by the time you make it to the couch.

No, but like actually dizzy this time. Maybe you are coming down with something. That would actually be a godsend at a time like this. You don’t think you can last a whole movie sitting so close to Wanda.  

You actually do feel a bit better sitting down. She gives you a small smile which you awkwardly return. Great. Back to awkward you. You stare down to the unopened soda can in her hand - orange soda. You know she isn’t going to drink that. Fortunately for her, you hold her preferred drink - Dr. Pepper. 

“Here. Trade you,” you offer your drink to her.

“Oh!” She looks surprised, but pleasantly surprised you’d say based on the smile on her face when she sees the drink you are offering. “Are you sure?”

“Very,” you say. “I like orange better.” Lie.

“Thanks,” she takes the drink from your hand and gives you hers. “You know, this is actually my favorite.”

I know.

“Well then good thing I sat here as it worked out for the both of us,” you respond, your nerves settling down somewhat letting your body relax on the couch.

Of course that doesn’t last long when she also leans back comfortably looking you dead in the eye as she says, “Yeah, lucky me.”

You swear you feel your heart skip a beat, possibly a whole 16 bars worth. Then you think your heart stops beating all together when she leans her side into yours. You are pretty certain the couch is spacious enough to have no touching happening. You are in no shape to say anything though as you are basically trying to catch your breath while the movie plays. When you finally do breathe in deep, you suddenly wish you hadn’t. All you can smell is her shampoo. 

How can anyone smell so good? It should be illegal. What is it, strawberry? Smells a little like flowers too.

“Good nose,” Wanda whispers, leaning more so into your space giving you a mini heart attack. “It’s strawberry shampoo and the lotion is rose scented. I can show you later if you want? Here, smell it.” 

Wanda practically shoves her wrist under your nose. You are trying to remember the words to “Hail Mary” because this just might be the moment you die. You hesitantly sniff her wrist and though you wish you could stay there until all the oxygen in your body is replaced by that scent you quickly pull away.

“Yep, roses.”

You turn to give her a quick smile and shit she’s close. Any closer and you’d be bumping noses. You linger there for what feels like forever but you know it’s more around 5 seconds, 4 seconds longer than you would have ever allowed yourself before. Your throat goes dry. 

“Sorry,” you whisper quickly as you turn your head to the TV to try to distract yourself. You pop open your soda and nearly chug it down all the way. Wanda is quiet beside you seemingly invested in the movie as she takes sips of her soda but you know she is not following along because every other minute you see her glance your way from your peripheral vision. 

You feel her pull away from you and get off the couch, and you almost sigh in relief until you see her come back with a blanket. You finish off your soda and leave the can on the floor as she sits back down. You try to ignore her but she calls your attention by waving a side of the blanket in front of you asking if you want some. You shake your head no and Wanda pouts. Like she actually pouts and she waves the blanket again looking at you expectantly.

God, you’re too cute. Like I could ever say no to that face.

You nod giving your thanks as she throws the blankets over you as well. 

“Good to know,” she says. As you’re about to ask what is good to know, she leans fully into your side, loops her arm around yours, and lays her head on your shoulder turning her attention back to the movie without a word. She either doesn’t realize or she doesn’t care that her actions have broken you. You are stiff as a board but you quickly will yourself to relax. You reason if this is the only chance you get to be with her like this, you may as well enjoy it.

As the movie goes on, you feel more relaxed than you ever felt. You don’t know if it is the warmth of the blanket or of having Wanda pressed so close, but you feel sluggish, almost tired-like but you know you’re not ready to sleep yet. It is almost like your brain is taking a little longer to catch up to what is happening. 

When Wanda’s thumb is rubbing your hand, you sigh. 

This feels nice. I always wondered what holding your hand would feel like. Now that I know, I don’t ever want to let go. You think or you think you think.

When she squeezes your hand, you’re not so sure you kept that in your head but this time you don’t really care because she sinks further into you. You don’t even know when she decided to hold your hand, but you are not complaining about it. 

A few scenes go by, but not without your commentary. Usually your commentary gets a chuckle here and there or is ignored but these comments you make are not so forgettable. Not when you say things like 

“You should try giving Nat a dollhouse, Banner” to Bruce making him blush and everyone stare at you incredulously and some laugh

and

“If your laugh was my ringtone, I would have so many missed calls because I’d want to hear it all the way through” to Wanda when she laughs at your previous comment. This has her blushing now. You hadn’t realized you said that until her cheeks turned pink and Peter whipped his head around to look at you with wide eyes. You ignore him and continue not really knowing where this is coming from. “You’re cute when you blush.” 

Everyone is looking at you both now. She ducks her head and if she wasn’t blushing before, she is flushing now with all the attention. The movie is long forgotten. You pull her head to hide into your neck as you chuckle, “Hey, there’s no need to be embarrassed. If anything, Captain USA over there should be embarrassed telling everyone his head injury was from a mission.”

Steve’s eyes widen but so do Pietro’s for a different reason as he rushes over to you.

“Tell me everything,” he says like a child on christmas.

“Alright, alright. I hurt myself in training, okay?” Steve interrupts.

“Well, that’s not that interesting,” Pietro huffs.

“He threw his shield and it ricocheted,” you stage whisper.

Pietro’s eyes shine with glee. Everyone turns to look at Steve to see if there is any truth to the story and his face gives him away. Everyone bursts out laughing and you feel Wanda laughing as well in your arms.

“How did you even know that?” Peter asks.

“Tinman has cameras everywhere. I bet he has it recorded somewhere.”

“Man, I have to see it!” Peter exclaims and has most people agree.

“Okay, I promise it’s not that funny, guys,” Steve tries to calm everyone down.

 “No, if you want funny, you should watch Guns and Arrows duet. What was it “Love is an Open Door?” you reply directing everyone’s gaze to Nat and Clint. Even Wanda pulls from you to look at them. 

“You showed her the video?” Natasha glares at Clint.

“No, it’s on the internet for anyone to watch as they please. Clint makes a great Anna by the way.”

“This is the greatest day of my life,” Pietro says as he pulls out his phone searching for the video. “I don’t know what put you in this mood, but thank you.”

“I’ve got a lot more too,” you say as you get up from the couch, legs feeling a little wobbly, “but that will have to wait til I get back. I drank the soda too fast trying to calm my nerves from sitting so close to your sister.”

“Why would you be nervous? It’s just Wanda,” Pietro says.

You gape at him in disbelief as if he had just insulted you and he might as well have. It is as if everything else just disappears.

“ ‘Just’ Wanda?! You say that like she isn’t the coolest person in the world! Which makes you cool by default because you’re her twin, so you should be thanking her.” 

You try to lean in closer to him as if to tell him a secret but your body is more swaying off balance than anything, “Don’t tell anyone but I get nervous around pretty girls. So of course I would be nervous around your sister. Also, don’t tell Peter cause he thinks he’s better than me at talking to girls and I refuse to admit he’s right.”

Pietro is wearing a shit eating grin as you move back. You don’t see everyone’s matching shocked faces as you turn. You turn too quickly and due to your weird state of being you fall face first into Peter. Luckily he catches you with ease. 

“That was a close one,” you giggle. “Thanks, Spider Boy.”

“Y/N, are you feeling okay?” Peter asks. Everyone rushes over to you both.

“I’m great,” you respond as helps you up. “Is the room spinning or is it just me?”

“You should sit down, Y/N,” Wanda looks at you with worry.

You frown, “Hey, what’s wrong? Did Pietro eat your sandwich again? It’s okay. I can make you another one righ-”

“PARKER! L/N!” 

Everyone’s heads turn to the voice coming from the elevator that could only be Tony’s.

“Do you think he knows about the spider?” you whisper to Peter as your vision goes blurry.

“How could you let the spider out! Do you even have a clue what it does?” Tony’s silhouette makes his way to you.

“So maybe it did bite you,” Peter looks at you guilty and picks you up as your knees give out again.

“Fucking RoboSpider,” is the last thing you say before everything goes dark.

***

When you finally come to, you are in your room in your pyjamas with a pounding headache. You slowly sit up on your bed. Your body is aching as well. Hearing your movement, Peter springs up from where he was sitting against the wall. 

He approaches you slowly and hands you a glass of water, “Hey, how are you feeling.”

“Like a damn Stark tech spider bit me after I told my friend not to mess with it,” you manage to glare at Peter after 

“Sorry. Are you mad?”

“Unless I got some cool spider powers out of it. Let’s see.”

You touch several objects around you exaggerating your actions so he clearly sees nothing is sticking to you.

“Nope, guess that answers that.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let it out. That’s my fault and I totally take the blame. I told Mr. Stark that too,” he says as he sits by your side.

You accept his apology. You sit there with him in silence for a few minutes letting everything that happened settle in your mind.

“Oh, god. Everyone is probably mad at me. Why couldn’t I stop talking?” You take a pillow and scream into it.

“It was the spider. Apparently instead of venom it has a sort of truth serum-like substance that works I guess but it works I guess more like alcohol,” Peter explains. 

“Remind me to never get drunk around any of you.”

Peter laughs and takes the pillow from you.

“If it’s any consolation, no one is mad at you. They, um, saw the video of you freaking out with the spider and say it’s even now.”

“Nooo,” you whine and Peter just chuckles beside you. His laughter dies down and he looks at you for a moment like something is pressing on his mind.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something else?” you start to panic. “Oh, my god, did I pee my pants?! I remember having to go to the restroom but I don’t remember going. Is that why I’m in my pjs? Did everyone see? Did Wanda see? I’m never coming out of this room.”

“Breathe, Y/N, breathe!” Peter places his hands on your shoulders and breathes with you. 

“I was going to say that Wanda is waiting outside to talk to you.”

Your eyes widen, “Somehow that’s worse! How do I begin to apologize? I embarrassed her the most out of everybody.”

“Just talk to her. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he says getting up. 

“Peter, don’t leave me yet. Peter!” you whisper yell as he makes his way to the door.

“You’ll be fine. We both know I’m better at talking to girls than you but I still have full confidence,” he replies cheekily as he exits leaving the door open.

“Asshole!” You call after him but to your misfortune Wanda walks in at the same time.

“Well that’s different. Usually I get a flustered greeting from you,” she says amusedly.

“S-sorry. That was for Peter. Not you. Never you. Unless, you like asshole -er being called asshole, but you probably don’t so… Hi, Wanda. What can I do for you?”

“There it is,” Wanda chuckles. You blush in return. She glances at the spot next to you where Peter had been sitting. “May I?”

“Yes,” you squeak. You clear your throat trying to sound less nervous. “Of course.”

You take a deep breath as she sits down closer than Peter had, your shoulders touching. You look at the door while she looks at you. You try to calculate how fast you would have to move to run out the door before she can close it with her powers. You know that even if you had Pietro’s speed, you still could not run fast enough to escape this conversation. It’s been a long time coming. It was time to own up and accept the feelings you tried to ignore. You would not run away this time. You will not deny what you’ve made blatantly obvious to everyone. You are in love with Wanda Maximoff. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Wanda asks.

“As if you don’t know. You’re the telepath here,” you turn your face to hers.

“You know I won’t do it on purpose. I’ll only hear thoughts that-”

“Are loud,” you finish for her. “I know. I also know my mind is practically screaming my thoughts at you.”

“I’d rather hear them come from your mouth,” she replies quietly.

“Before I go and ruin everything-”

“You won’t,” Wanda interjects and moves to hold your hand.

“Before I go and ruin everything,” you begin again, “I want to apologize if I embarrassed you yesterday or made you uncomfortable in any way. That being said, I cannot apologize for what I said because I meant every word and I refuse to take them back even if it makes us being around each other awkward or difficult. I just want to be honest.”

You squeeze her hand and take a deep breath. You look right into her eyes, your heart beating fast. You’re scared but also excited to finally say the words.

“I love you.”

The words are said with such confidence, you’re shocked. Maybe, you’re more shocked they didn’t come from you. It takes a moment for you to shake from your stupor. 

“I-I was going to say that.”

“You were taking too long,” she says as she leans in and kisses you. It takes you two seconds to get your act together and kiss her back. You close your eyes and your heart slows to its regular beating as a calm washes over you. All worries of unrequited feelings forgotten. There are no nerves to interrupt your actions. No doubts hold you back from kissing her harder as she moves to sit on your lap without breaking your kiss. When the need to breathe can’t be ignored, you pull back feeling light headed. 

She smiles at you and she is the most beautiful thing you have ever come across with her chest heaving, lips bruised, and strands of her hair falling in front of her face. You look at her adoringly as you push her hair back to see her whole face. 

“I love you,” you finally say.

“Wasn’t too hard, was it?” she laughs. 

You roll your eyes and you kiss her this time.

***

“So, how’d it go?” Peter asks a few hours later.

“Her hair is as soft as it looks.”

[yandere-sins]

Hello friend!❤️ I absolutely adore your Miya Twins works. Every time you post something for one of them or both of them I’m so elated and excited to read what you’ve come up with! If your requests are open (your bio says they are) I was wondering if you could write something where the reader almost successfully escapes or calls for help? What are the twins reactions? What would they do? I love how you write their dynamic and would love to see this idea explored! If you don’t want to write for both of them, maybe Atsumu’s perspective? Personally he is my favorite twin! I hope you are well thank you❤️

Hey friendo! ♥ We actually talked about escaping them before, so this might be interesting for you! Thanks for requesting, I hope this is close to what you wanted! I needed a reason to just make it ‘almost’ ^^’

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Keep it down, 'Tsumu."

His brother's warning only frustrated Atsumu more, but he grit his teeth in response, the last remnants of his voice fading through the hallway of the apartment complex. Maybe he had been a little loud as he tried to voice his anger, frustration, and fear, but how else was he supposed to come to terms with this situation? Not only had their darling found a way to crack the lock on the front door open, no, they also successfully slipped out of his grasp and outran him in the moment of surprise - HIM, a professional athlete.

It was almost too bad that they missed a step on the second to last staircase, making them fall right into the opposing wall. The twins' screams as they heard the maddening crack when their head hit the cement must have echoed throughout the whole house. Luckily, the twins weren't the only shady people renting an apartment here, and most were empty anyway. No one came to see what the ruckus was all about.

Their darling was anything but weightless as they were slumped against his back, Atsumu giving them a piggyback ride back to their home. Luckily, his muscles were good enough to easily carry them around, but taking three staircases with an extra person on his back wasn't the most comfortable task even for him.

"It's your responsibility. You let them get away," had been Osamu's reasoning as to why they wouldn't alternate carrying them. "Asshole," Atsumu grumbled, Osamu giving him a glare back over his shoulder. He knew just as well that Atsumu wasn't lashing out at him, both of them going through the same state of shock and frustration. But now, with the blood of their darling's head wound dripping onto Atsumu's shirt, they also had their hands full with worrying.

"Stop making a scene. It could be worse," Osamu reminded him, but despite the harsh words, Atsumu felt the same kind of relief. At least they didn't make it out. But at what price?

"Ya think they'll recover from that?" Atsumu asked quietly as Osamu opened the door for him, both of them frowning at the busted door lock. It was crazy to think that their sweet, docile darling was able to do such a thing. However, when their darling realized that their plan failed to pick the lock, they must have panicked so much they ended up opening it this way. "From their failed escape? Probably. That wound is a different thing."

Both of them were tense as Osamu spoke out what they wished didn't have to be voiced. They were no doctors. They could patch up a cut or put ointment on a bruise, but if anything was wrong inside of their brain, they'd be screwed. Bringing them to a hospital was out of the question. Less their darling might be taken away from them. Atsumu didn't even want to start thinking about all the people that would be all over his sweetheart, touching and caring for them while he couldn't. A stupid moment to get jealous, but who could blame him?

"Put them down in their room; it's the safest spot at the moment. Close the door just in case," Osamu instructed, opening the door for Atsumu before disappearing into his own bedroom. "Bring tissues!" Atsumu called after him as he carried their darling inside, trying to slide them off his back as gently as possible and laying them on their bed. His t-shirt was already ruined as he pulled it off, gently dabbing the fabric against the wound on their forehead, waiting for his brother to bring some bandages and ointment. "Shit," he mumbled, biting his own lip in frustration.

The person he was most frustrated with was himself. Yes, he knew about what kind of power balance reigned in their house. Yes, he knew that not all he did to his darling was in their best interest. But he didn't want it to end... like this. That's not what he wanted. Pressing the shirt to their wound, he lifted their hand with his free one, bringing it to his lips. They had done something bad. Something really, really bad. But at the same time, they were so vulnerable, so dependant, and they didn't even know it. They shouldn’t have run from them, it was their darling’s fault in the first place. But how could he be mad at them when they were in this heartbreaking state? Punishment was nothing he could even think about in that moment. What if they didn’t wake up again? Even with the blood dripping from their face, they were the most wonderful person he knew, and Atsumu feared to have told them that less than he should have when he had the chance.

"Move." Giving him an ungentle kick in the waist, Osamu made Atsumu free up the space directly next to their darling's head. He wished he could have his brother's place, but Osamu was just a bit better when it came to fixing stuff. So maybe, he could fix this too?

Pushing away Atsumu and his shirt, Osamu leaned over their darling, checking again if they were still breathing before taking a closer look at the wound. "Ya know how to do stitches?" Osamu mumbled as he looked at it from every side possible. "Are you crazy?" Atsumu hissed back. "Neither of us can do that!"

"And your better idea is...?"

Fuck. His stomach twisted and churned as Atsumu thought about this.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You do it," Atsumu spoke monotonously. Trying to hide his fear and the shaking hands in his lap.

"Your hands are more steady," Osamu hissed back at him, not noticing that they currently were out of control, only trusting logic in this situation.

"Are you kidding?" Atsumu barked, ready to hit his brother if not for both of Osamu's hands being around their darling's face to steady it.

"One of us has to, and it ain't me! I just cook! You have finger coordination!"

"But..." Atsumu's voice cracked, his eyes falling onto their darling's almost peaceful face if not for the bloody mess at the side of their forehead. Osamu sighed. He pulled his hands away, fingers covered in red smears as he brushed back his hair. "They're bleeding, 'Tsumu," he whispered, and Atsumu heard the same damn fear in his brother's voice that he was fighting with. The struggle, the uncertainty. Fear of losing their darling and guilt of letting it come so far. Osamu had been farther away from their darling than Atsumu, but he was blaming himself just as much. "What do we do?" Osamu's voice was strained with the burden of a person's life on his shoulders as well.

That's right. Atsumu wasn't the only one hurting.

"Then the hospital--" Osamu sighed, catching his composure as quickly as possible, or he might have started to cry. Instead, he pulled out his phone. He hesitated before his lock screen flashed up, ready to call the emergency hotline. By now, time was of the essence.

"No," Atsumu decided right as his eyes caught the light coming from the display. "I'll do it," he stated, determined with an unknown strength.

"I will," he emphasized again, this time, trying to hide the slight shake of uncertainty in his voice. All their work, all this time they put into keeping their darling with them - it couldn't be in vain. Their love was not so shallow. "But..." Osamu mumbled, unsure if this was the right decision.

"I'm the older twin. Trust me."

"Debatable..." Osamu mumbled, glancing back at their hurting darling. "But I trust you."

It all felt unreal. Their first aid kit wasn't just a normal, store-bought one as Atsumu always thought. Somehow, Osamu seemed to have predicted there could have been worse wounds to befall them, owning everything they could need. Chaos reigned in Atsumu's head as he watched one video after another of how to stitch wounds on Osamu's phone while washing his hands maniacally as if to wash off the sins crawling over his skin. The time was pressuring him. There was so much to note, he was barely able to remember the first step once he was done watching it. Avoiding blood poisoning seemed to be the slightest problem when he couldn't even remember how to close a stitch.

Both of them suited up for the occasion, Osamu silently bringing a new shirt into the bath before washing his hands next to his brother. "We said we'd do it together when we brought them here," he reminded Atsumu as he helped him into the gloves. "You're not alone in this."

"I know," Atsumu sighed. "We always did it together, but I have to do this alone. For them. For us."

"I'm always right behind you," Osamu encouraged Atsumu as they stepped up to their darling. A moment of silent prayers passed as they looked down at the biggest mistake of their life. Their darling.

"Let's get it over with," Atsumu mumbled. There was something in his brother's eyes that Osamu had never seen before. He could only recognize it as a point of no return. A breaking point. And yet, Osamu handed the needle to his brother, who immediately pointed it to where he wanted it to go. However, before he could stick it in, he hesitated, his will faltering instantly. What if he'd mess it up? What if he couldn't do it? They'd die. Either way, they'd die.

"On three," Osamu caught his brother, who was falling into despair. Atsumu had to do it. There was no turning back, they had long ignored the right things, and now they were too deep in to go back. He'd prove his love once and for all. Atsumu breathed in.

"Deep breath. One. Two..."

Atsumu breathed out.

"Three."

[igotathingforvampires]

Anon Ask | Caius Volturi x F!Witch Reader: Punishments

Canon Divergent Dora is true mated to Renata because I <3 Renata Fight Me

Reader is a Witch.

You are a human. Who managed because of a latent heritage of being a Witch to wander past Heidi into the Throne Room thinking it’s a tour.

You’re not stupid, you walk right in and get near the dais and look around and realize that this is not just a tour.

Sighing, you glance around and face palm. “Ahhhhhh Fuck My Life.”

The Kings of Volterra are eyeing you with amusement.

You sigh, and glare UP at the throne of a very, very gorgeous almost elfin, platinum haired King who’s GLARING back at you with a raised brow and a scowl.

“So ah do I get to pick who offs me?”

All vampires just PAUSE.

“Because okay, if I’m gonna die.” You point at Caius. “That one. You. You’ve got dibs Sir.”

Caius is Shooketh.

This little human has got some guts.

He hates humans. HATES humans.

So why when he snatches you up and you just look at him with those big eyes, and a small smile “just make it quick hm?”

You wait, eyes closed.

Caius pauses, growling and suddenly NOPE you’re picked up and ZOOM.

Aro: The fuck just happened?

You’re tucked away in his inner sanctuary of his rooms, sat down on a chair. “Sit RIGHT here human. If you move I shall be displeased, you won’t like what happens if you make me angry.”

“Uhhhhhh kay.”

Caius goes and feeds and after he sits amongst his brothers. “I’m keeping it.” He growls

Turns out he can keep you because you’re not human! YAY!

“So am I like a bunny.”

“Less than a Rabbit you’re human.” Caius would growl at you.

“Mmmkay.”

How things Go:

You are the chillest bitch to ever chill. Life has not been great, in fact it’s been a horror show, Aro of course sees this and he scolds Caius for treating you like a piece of furniture rather than a person.

Aro knows you’re just feeling Caius out, watching because there are moments— the very few moments— when he is oh so gentle.

You shiver, a blanket is flung at your face. “My luck you’d catch pneumonia.”

Your tummy rumbles, the chef brings a five star meal. “I don’t need you dying.”

You’re bored, suddenly you’re in front of the TV and given access to ALL the shows. “You’re being a pest.”

Aro also knows your temper is starting to appear the more Caius pushes you away.

Caius isn’t sure what to even do with you— he is FEELING things, things he’s never even felt with Dora. And Dora is berating him alongside Marcus for being an utter nitwit.

“Cai for all your brilliance for strategy you’re an idiot in romance.” Dora says.

He knows it’s true. He’s an asshole.

And angry.

All the time. But when you’re around he’s not angry anymore.

But at one point you’re still fidgeting with your hands. “What is the problem now.”

“Ah…well…” you fidget some more, “c-can I have some water colors?”

Caius freezes. “You paint?” He seems curious.

You nod. “I do digital art but I like canvas art too!” You show him your phone of photoshop collages, watercolor, digital paintings and such.

“You do this on a computer?” He tilts his head. He hates technology. So seeing that one can create art this way is astounding to him.

“Yeah I had to sell my iPad a while ago so sadly I can’t do much right now but if I have some water colors that would be a good start!” You bounce on your feet.

You have the a massive iMac, a Wacom Cintiq 24”, an entire selection of Derwent colors and crazy amounts of canvases and anything else you might need that an artist can think of.

Caius is utterly stunned when you tackle him and kiss his cheek thanking him.

His heart explodes into confetti.

Art is how Caius communicates his gentler side. His art is beautiful, evoking deep emotions, and his hand is gentle and fluid enough in motion to capture even the most minute details.

You both grow exceptionally close, till Marcus one day pulls him aside to inform him of the Mate Bond that is between you two.

The Kiss:

You’re modeling for Caius, it’s a random request and you feel utterly embarrassed dressed in flowing robes and sprawled on a chaise lounge half hanging off, your hair spilling onto the marble floor.

You can’t quite help but notice how his gaze is pitch black and devouring you.

“M-Master Caius?”

“Caius.” He grumbles.

“Huh?”

“I think it’s about time you can call me Caius y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump an erratic beat as magic swirls in your eyes. It’s slowly been coming back to you, being cared for, like a plant long neglected, your magic has begun to grow under the tender albeit aloof care of the vampire King you’re so utterly in love with.

But you know it’s silly, there’s no way it’d work—

He’s suddenly next to you, hovering nose to nose, pulling you towards him, “you consume me.”

It’s the last thing he says for a long while as you both end up staying on that lounge for a— ahem lengthy amount of time.

Punishments:

Caius is a sadist.

But he’s a loving sadist.

He has so many kinks he doesn’t know what to do with them. And luckily for him— surprise surprise you’re kinky too.

But you tend to be mouthy. And Caius does not like when he is disobeyed. “Be a good pet and go sit.”

“But—“

“1.”

When Aro counts it’s for orgasms.

When Caius counts it’s for paddling or the crop.

Or it’s for forced orgasms and overstimulation.

The dynamic between you is quite lovely, boundaries are discussed whenever needed, although Caius can come across as gruff and uncaring, at one point during punishment play you had said your safe word rather quickly, and everything stopped. Oils, bath, rub down, talks, blankets, snuggles, and so many kisses to the forehead. “Bunny, oh my little bunny what happened?”

As someone who does not cry.

Ever.

Aro has attested to this.

It astounds Caius that you’d trust him enough to do so.

He realizes that he’s earned a trust that has not been earned by anyone in a long long time, knowing that feeling, he would never break it by overdoing things or going past your boundaries.

Punishments are talked out. Explained. Rules are fairly discussed and you ALWAYS have a say in vetoing or staying off for another day.

If it’s a topic that has yet to be discussed it is tabled, and discussed for what an appropriate response should be.

Punishments include:

Caning

Paddle

Crop (your favorite)

Being suspended and teased.

Leashed. Yes he will have you walk behind him with a leash and collar. And yes he will sit in the Library with you on a leash and your head in his lap. “Good Bunny.”

You are a very good bunny.

Caius has only had only lost his temper with you once. And never will again.

It was due to negligence on your part, you had disobeyed him when it was imperative for you to listen, not aware of the danger of a local coven’s very out of control member. “But Cai why—“

They had heard your blood sing to them.

Caius had torn the individual to pieces in a fit of utter rage before turning on you with a shout, “I told you NEVER to disobey me.” he roared at you, the energy coming off him practically feral as his eyes were murderous.

Seeing you shrink back; the fear in your gaze at him almost broke his heart when the dread kicked in as to what he had done. He had frightened you.

He was supposed to be your comfort and safety.

of course you wouldn't understand vampire's ways of doing things.

or what a singer was...you were a witch...

But before he could even think to reach for you...

You had fled.

Hidden away in Dora’s rooms you tucked yourself away in her bathroom in the tub with a blanket curled up and wept.

Dora and Sulpricia beat the shit out of Caius.

He had sat outside the door pleading with you for hours.

He knew he had utterly fucked up.

He had a horrid temper, he knew it, and the idea of you being drained dry right in front of him had been far too much for him to think of. “Y/n please talk to me. I'm so sorry please forgive me.”

You had unlocked the door with magic…. And he had merely crawled into the tub with you, curled around you underneath the blanket and held you while you cried into him and smacked at his chest. “Don’t do that ever again!!!”

“I know, I know bunny I know. Never again. I'm a bastard I know.”

You calmed down and glared at him.

“Would you like to delve out a punishment?”

You blinked, confused and then realized what he was offering.

“Yes.”

And that is how you ended up quite happy with your vampire begrudgingly, and amused sitting at your feet in your shared rooms with GOOD BOY on a thick leather collar.

Turns out Caius likes being punished too.

“Also a masochist hm?” You laugh at him and grip him by his hair.

“So it seems.” He muses kissing your knee and nudging your legs apart. “But the reward is worth it isn’t it bunny?”

[sundaysundaes]

Spectra

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader/Female OC | Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff | NC-17 | Soulmate AU, Childhood-Friends-Become-Lovers AU

The second part of Monochrome. Read the epilogue here.

Summary: Lee Donghyuck once believed in the concept of soulmates—how fate would connect a red thread from one lover to another, in a form of dreams and memories. That was how his parents met, that was how they claimed their happiness, and he wanted nothing more but to live his life the way they lived theirs. Until one day, as he sees her slipping away from his hands, he has no choice but to stop believing entirely.

Donghyuck woke up with his heart in his throat. His eyes, as they bore into the ceilings of his room, swallowed by the darkness, were shaking in both fear and rapture. Two things occupied his mind, forcibly pushing his other thoughts away and rendered them pointless.

First, he knew it wasn’t just a dream. Like what she’d previously mentioned, it felt nothing like a dream. He was completely aware of everything, perfectly sane, and could thoroughly remember every detail, every scene, every word that she said even after he woke up.

Second, he was certain that it was a memory, and although he was in it, he knew it was her memory and not his, because there were parts of it that felt vague to him before but were crystal clear now as he saw it through her point of view. He had his first soulmate dream, there was no doubt about it.

So that brought him to the next question.

Why did he dream about her? She’d found her soulmate, hadn’t she? And she had explicitly stated many times that her soulmate was not him, but a complete stranger—one that she only knew by his face and not his name. So, wasn’t he supposed to be connected to someone else—to see someone else’s memories?

He leaned up, sitting on his bed with his elbows sinking into his thighs, his fingers yanking at the roots of his hair. “Fuck, I don’t get it,” he whispered to himself, feeling a little bit lightheaded from all these unsolved questions swirling in his brain. “Am I her soulmate? Do I still have the chance to be with her?”

But even a chance would be enough, he soon decided. Even just reliving her memories every night, knowing her better, seeing her longer, that would be enough reasons for him to continue with his hope.

Perhaps, he could believe in soulmates for a little longer.

There were a few short memories he saw in his first soulmate dream, most of them were from her childhood days which made him feel content to the point he wanted to never wake up because these flashbacks always had him in them. He was an integral part of her childhood memories, the one who shaped her into the person that she was now.

But the memory that shook him the most was the memory of the time they went to the beach during their summer vacation with his family. Donghyuck watched himself sneak out of their cottage in his grey hoodie placed underneath a beige varsity jacket. He saw a few months younger version of himself, grinning from ear-to-ear, as he shouted in whispers.

“Come on, Noona, hurry up!”

“Haechannie, it’s two in the morning!”

The sight of her had always warmed his heart, but in this dream he was having, her beauty seemed almost ethereal as if her entire being was a piece of art with the sole purpose of being loved and admired.

“Which is the more reason why we should hurry up before they find out, Noona, for God’s sake, come on!” He grasped her by the wrist, yanking her forward so he could close the door behind her. They stepped down the stairs in a hurry, their flip-flops making creaking sounds on the wooden surface.

“If your mom finds out and she—” She abruptly ended her sentence with a yelp as she tripped on her feet, clutching her arms around his shoulders for balance, pressing her chest involuntarily against his back. The boy threw a glance over his shoulder, clearly enjoying the way she had her arms wrapped tightly around his body. Smirking suggestively, he cooed, “Baby, you’re so aggressive. At least, buy me dinner first.”

“Asshole.” She retracted her hands at once, shoving him harshly until this time, he was the one who tripped down the stairs, falling face-first on the ground, inadvertently swallowing some sand into his mouth. She concealed her marbled teeth with her fingers as she giggled at the sight, but began to run for her life when he growled, “I’m going to kill you,” and chased after her trails with his arms reaching out to catch her.

The reason they had their feet dipped in the sand at two in the morning was simply because Donghyuck couldn’t sleep at the sight of her curling beside him on the thin mattress that was laid out in the living room. The cottage only had three rooms, one was used by his parents, another one was supposed to be used by her and his twin sister, and the last one was for him and his two younger brothers to snuggle up together in a cramped bed. But Donghyuck had insisted to sleep outside so he could watch a movie before bed and his parents didn’t mind, even if his neighbor ended up joining him in the middle of the night upon his request.

So when she fell asleep next to him, her face almost sinking into the crook of his neck, and her hand laying on his stomach, mistaking him as her usual body pillow, Donghyuck had to distract himself before he thought about doing something sinful. So he shook her by the shoulder, told her to wipe the drool away from her face, and asked her to follow him outside, mentioning that he suddenly had the urge to stargaze. And although a train of complaints kept tumbling down her lips, she followed—she always did, no matter where he led her to.

“What are you doing?” He questioned the girl who stood next to him, looking like she wanted him to do something. “Sit down next to me, come on.”

“I’m waiting for you to be a gentleman.”

“What?”

“Aren’t you supposed to lay down your jacket on the ground so this lady right here won’t have sand on her shorts? You’re wearing two jackets, after all.”

“Yeah, but not for you to sit on it.” Donghyuck, who had already sat down on the damp sand, rolled his eyes. “You watch too many dramas. Guys don’t do that in real life.”

“It’s you who don’t do that.” And with pouty lips, she quietly added, “Jaemin did that for me.”

“I heard that.”

“I wanted you to hear it.”

“And so how are things going on with this Jaemin so far? Is he still giving you sloppy blowjobs on the weekends?” He faked a gasp, one hand covering his mouth for dramatic effect. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot he broke up with you.” A cheeky grin crawled up his face. “On. Your. Fucking. Birthday.”

“Whatever.” She blushed. “At least, he’s hotter than you’ll ever be.”

He seemed more annoyed than he should, and she was on the verge of thinking whether her joke was going too far but Donghyuck exhaled loudly into the air, standing up on his feet again and tore his varsity jacket off his body. “Here,” he said, as he spread it out on the ground. “Your majesty.”

“Why, thank you, my prince.” She giggled, plopping down on the sand. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

And they ended up throwing playful kicks and punches to each other again like the other million times they did, before they finally laid side-by-side on the sand, sweaty and out of breath.

“Haechannie.”

“What?”

“Do you think we'll still do this after we get married and have kids?” She asked, gazing at the stars that gleamed radiantly in the black night sky.

“Us?” Donghyuck rubbed his nose, a speck of sand making his skin itchy. “Like, in bed? Well, I don’t know about you, but I think I might be into rough sex, but maybe after a few years deep into our marriage so you won’t—”

“Not us getting married, you idiot!” She grappled another handful of sand, threatening to throw it on his face but Donghyuck already had his arms raised in surrender. “I mean, do you see us hanging out like this when we already have our own families to think about?”

“I don’t like to think too much.” He nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s still way ahead in the future. I’d probably die an early death from being too rich and handsome, anyway.”

“You’d die from being too dumb.”

“I was talking about me, not you.” He swatted her hand away when she was about to shove him in the chest. “Speaking of getting married, why don’t we make a pact?” Though his heart was racing a bit faster, he kept his lopsided grin intact as they shared eye contact. “If, after we turn eighteen, we end up having no dreams of our soulmates, why don’t you and I get together?”

She unexpectedly blurted out laughing. “I can understand if you think that there’s a chance of me not having any soulmate, but the chance of me not finding anyone more decent than you as my husband? How dare you, Lee Donghyuck.”

“I’m just saying,” he repeated, turning on his stomach. “If by the time we turn thirty or something we still haven’t found anyone, why don’t you and I get married?”

“I thought we’ve promised somewhere along the way in our poor little friendship that we’d never talk about this again?”

“I think we’re mature enough to have this conversation by now. So, what do you think?”

She was still on the verge of laughing. “What I think about what, Haechannie, you’re being absolutely crazy and embarrassing—”

“Why is it so hard for you to just say yes and marry me?” He insisted, holding back a laugh himself because her smile was so contagious. “Is it seriously that gross for you to think of me as your husband?”

“It’s not that, it’s—Oh my God, okay,” she finally gave in, heaving the heaviest sigh before she sat up properly and turned toward him. “Look, you’re not exactly the most romantic person out there.”

“Hey,” he pouted, scowling a little. “I can be romantic. You just don’t know it yet because you’ve never seen me on a date.”

“Yeah? Then try me.”

“Try what?”

“Be romantic. Do something that can make my heart flutter for you, oh my mighty prince,” she jeered, throwing a challenging, mocking smile at him. “If you can make my heart skip a beat, I’ll marry you.”

He scoffed. “Man, I know you’re shy but you don’t have to challenge me with this pathetic dare if you want to marry me that bad.”

She stood up immediately. “I’m leaving.”

He was chuckling as he captured her by the wrist. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, wait.” He tapped his chin, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip. “Let’s see… What should I do…. What should I—oh!”

She raised an eyebrow, seeing him stand up on his feet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna take you dancing.” He offered her his hand and she stared at it with reluctance written in her eyes before she sighed and took it. He pulled her abruptly with all his strength to make her stumble on her feet, but he caught her just in time by circling his arms around her waist, leading her close until they’re chest-to-chest.

“Blushing yet?” He teased, smirking.

“I’m starting to think this is a bad idea,” she flatly said, pushing him away but he took her hand and placed it on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“As I said,” he paused, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and running his thumb along the screen. He chose one of the acoustic songs in his music playlist—Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud which made her scrunch her nose in protest—turned his speaker to the highest volume and hid the phone in the pocket of his hoodie. “I’m gonna take you dancing.”

She snorted but followed his lead, landing both of her arms on his shoulders. “Why am I not surprised that your song choice is something from Billboard’s Top Twenty?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I left my compilation of classic slow dance songs back at my house, along with my ballet shoes and my tutus.”

She narrowed her eyes at his sarcasm. “Okay, Ed Sheeran it is then.”

The first half of the song went by in what felt like hours to her from all the tension that arose between them. While she moved rather awkwardly, trying to match how his body slightly swayed from one side to another, Donghyuck smiled, softer than she could even begin to imagine, and gently asked, “Can I move closer?”

She could faintly feel his breath on her face even in their current position, but she gave a weak nod and answered, “S-sure.”

Donghyuck held back a grin. “Was that a stutter?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I do stutter from time to time, idiot. Everyone does that.”

“Okay, okay, geez. Cranky, much?”

“I’m just not sure if—” she took a sharp intake of breath when he suddenly leaned closer, his lips almost grazing against hers before he pulled away to give very little space between them. “You’re not playing fair,” she whispered, trying not to focus on his lips.

His eyes were half-lidded as he took in her features. “You didn’t make any rules.”

“I hate you.”

“Man, I was hoping you’d feel otherwise, but,” he guided her hands so they could circle themselves around his neck, as he moved his own lower on her body, resting on each side of her waist. “I only just started, so…”

She was breathing a little heavily, but not expanding the space between them, afraid to lose the game. She didn’t want to give him any more reason to ridicule her. “Right, so, what’s next? Because you’re not making me feel anything with this, Haechannie.”

He slowly brushed her bangs away from her eyes, his fingertips grazing against the soft skin of her temple. “Have I told you about the day when I realized I love you?”

That question almost rendered her frozen on her feet, but she caught herself at the last second. “A pick-up line?” She tried to pretend it didn’t have any effect on her by scoffing out loud. “Seriously?”

But Donghyuck was not laughing nor reciprocating in any teasing manner. His eyes were dark and deep, with all kinds of emotions swirling behind them. The tone he was using when he spoke his next words was filled with nothing but sincerity and candor.

“Maybe I’ve loved you since the first time we met, but…” He added a small chuckle as if he was shy and she wondered since when did he become such a good actor? “I guess I was too young, but I do remember that one time when I saw you and I thought,” he exhaled, reaching up a hand to cup her cheek before he pressed his temple against hers, “God, I gotta have her.”

She gulped hard, feeling her breath hitched in her throat. She just hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“You were wearing this beautiful red dress that I’d never seen you worn before, but it wasn’t just how pretty you looked that caught me off guard.” His words didn’t have as much effect on her as the tender way he regarded her with his deep, brown eyes, just utterly mesmerized by her everything. “It was the way you call my name with that adorable shy smile on your face, asking me about how you look and I just….” He leaned down so they’re eye-to-eye, with his fingers holding her face and his thumb caressing her cheek. “I just thought that maybe I want to keep you for myself. I want to hear you say my name, to show me that smile again, over and over—every day, for the rest of my life. I don’t want you to belong to someone else. I want to be the only one you can think about, both in your reality and your dreams.”

As if she was being hypnotized, her eyes began to solely focus on the way his mouth was shaping praises and terms of longing.

“I’ve never seen you as a friend, or a sister.” He was so close, so warm, so intoxicating. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything—anyone—as much as I want you now and it fucking hurts to hear another guy’s name escaping your lips because I just really…” He sighed. “Really want you for myself. All of you. Your kindness, your warmth, your crazy bedhead, your stupid, silly grin whenever you won a game against me. I want everything, and I need you to feel the same way, to need me as much as I need you.”

“Haechannie, I—”

“Listen, Noona.” His voice sounded both pained and desperate. “I know you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to tell me that but I just—I want to be selfish, even more than I already am, and let you know just how much I want to be with you,” his other hand traced along the dip of her spine, “and hold you,” the fingers that were cupping her cheek were now holding her by the chin, his thumb running along her lower lip, “and kiss you…”

She unconsciously parted her lips, perhaps putting her best effort to find her words but failed every time and the temptation that he felt to replace his finger with his own lips on her was too overwhelming so before anything went wrong, he pulled back and loudly yelled, “Okay, cut!”

The sudden loss of his touch on her body didn’t feel as disheartening to him as the look he saw on her face, and maybe the way the moonlight shone across her features was playing tricks on him, because she seemed… disappointed that he stopped.

Maybe she just got carried away with the moment. Or maybe she could tell that he was being honest the whole time, knowing that it was an actual confession rather than another crazy antic of his. And maybe she was about to give him the chance, to actually look at him in the same way he looked at her, to feel the way he felt about her, and…

And he ruined the moment.

“N-Noona?” He started when she fell quiet, hiding her eyes behind her bangs. “Are you—”

“It’s getting late,” she suddenly mentioned, bending down to grab his varsity jacket from the sandy ground and harshly pushed it toward him. “Let’s get back to the cottage. We need to catch some sleep.” And as she walked off, not glancing back to see whether he was following or not, Donghyuck noticed how red her face was even when there wasn’t enough lighting around them.

As a bystander in this memory, eighteen-year-old Lee Donghyuck felt a hollow forming inside his chest, swallowing his presence one-by-one until he ceased to exist because as he relived the situation for the second time in his life, he knew how badly he had screwed everything up. He had turned his honest confession into another teasing joke because he just wasn’t brave enough to take the risks—to tell her his actual feelings in fear of ruining the bond that they already had. He saw the look on her face vividly this time, and it wasn’t pure rejection. He had a hope, she was about to give in, and he lost his chance.

And now, as she fell harder for the stranger she met in her dreams, Donghyuck was nothing but a memory—one that she’d bury at the back of her mind, one that she’d pretend to never have existed in her life.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Hyuck,” he muttered under his breath before he blinked himself awake.

***

“Haechannie! Are you up yet?”

Donghyuck could hear a clanking sound on his window, perhaps from small rocks hitting the glass. Rubbing the headache away from the back of his head, he stepped down from the bed, taking heavy steps to greet the person standing on the other side of the window.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” his neighbor chirped with an excited smile, leaning half of her body forward, crossing over her window frame. He noticed how her eyes took a quick detour on his body, as he was not wearing any shirt, but she tried to act nonchalant about it. “A lady is gracing you with her presence, so get dressed.”

Usually, he would’ve said something flirty along the line of “But isn’t this how I always look like in your dreams?” But this time, he kept himself quiet, only sighing to himself as if he had troubles that he couldn’t talk about.

And she noticed. She always did. “Are you okay?”

“Just had a bad dream.” He shrugged, feeling sleepier than before he went to bed.

“I’m guessing, you haven’t met your soulmate yet?”

He hesitated. “Well, I saw you.”

She blinked, a bit startled, but she promptly laughed it off. “Right, must have sucked then. You were waiting for a pretty stranger and I popped out instead. Sorry about that.”

He tapped his fingers against the railing, somewhat agitatedly and impatient. “Noona, about last night when we accidentally kissed. Did it… make you feel something?”

He swore, she almost fell to the floor out of shock. Blood was rushing to her face, making her incoherent. “What—why—I thought we were going to pretend it didn’t happen—”

He knew it was probably a bad idea to question all this, but if he did have the chance to be with her, no matter how small it is, if she really did feel the same way, he had to know. He couldn’t make the same mistake again.

“I thought about your reaction after that kiss. I just want to know whether it made you feel something.” He was gripping the railings by then, sounding desperate, craving for her honesty. “Something about me.”

She sputtered, mouth gaping as she was rendered speechless. But before she could react any further, they both heard her mother calling her name. Donghyuck regarded it as a distraction, but to her, it was a lifesaver. Speaking in a sense of urgency, she said, “I gotta go.”

“Noona—”

“Haechannie.” The tone she was using was definite, not wanting to hear more words from him. “I think we should stop talking about it, especially when we’re a step closer to finding our soulmates.”

He frowned, feeling as if he just got impaled. “What are you—”

“I know his name now.” A weak smile appeared on her face. “I heard someone calling his name in my dream last night. That was what I was going to tell you.”

It appeared again, the hollow inside his chest, and it grew even bigger, sucking every part of him like a black hole. “So you’re going to pretend nothing happened between us?”

“Yes, because nothing happened between us,” she professed. “It was just an accident, Haechannie.” She seemed exhausted, almost as if answering his question was draining her physically. “None of us wanted that kiss to happen.”

Donghyuck glanced away, giving her the cold shoulder. “Sure. Whatever.”

She sighed, tired of his behavior. “Look, maybe you’re just confused because of everything that happened last night, what with us spending time alone holding hands, me giving you that locket with those words—maybe we crossed the line and I apologize for that since half of it was my fault. But whatever it is that you think is happening between us will disappear the second you meet your soulmate in your dream,” she claimed, using a tone like how a mother would console her crying child. “I don’t ever want to be apart from you but if being with me makes you feel awkward and uncomfortable, maybe it’s best if we keep our distance for now?”

He gaped, his heart almost leaping out of his chest. “No! That’s not what—”

Her mother’s voice rang through the air again, making her flinch. “Look, I really gotta go,” she softly said with a timid smile. “We’ll talk later?”

And before he could answer, she already stepped away from her window. She didn’t look back until she had her fingers curving against her doorknob. “Oh, and umm,” she paused, looking unsure before she looked sideways. “His name is Mark Lee, my soulmate. Just thought you should know.”

And she left, trampling on his heart with every step she took.

***

There was an invisible wall between them, and no matter how hard Donghyuck tried to tear it apart, it wouldn’t budge so instead of fixing things, he decided to give her the time and space she needed.

Because what else could he have done? She had already rejected him before he could even confess properly—or for real, this time around. It was as if she was scared to give in to her feelings, which made him feel even more confident that she had felt something for him. She was just too lost in this whole soulmate concept that it blinded her entirely, while he, on the other hand, had begun to stop believing in it and dwell himself deeper in reality rather than his dreams.

But when one of his bandmates, Lee Jeno, announced that his cousin was going to come in to temporarily fill the position of lead guitar player in their band, Donghyuck had no other choice but to believe that fate did take part in connecting a red thread from one lover to another. Because, standing in a pair of jeans and a black shirt with his eyes half-covered by his white snapback, was Mark Lee—her soulmate.

Donghyuck could tell that he was the same Mark Lee she mentioned because he had seen her drawings of him. It had taken her weeks before she could finish his sketch, drawing him solely based on the memories she had witnessed in her dreams and though it wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, she did manage to sketch his distinct features—his prominent cheekbones, his thin, curvy lips, his wide, doe eyes.

The sight of him, standing just two meters away from him, sent chills down his spine.

“Hey guys,” Mark said, giving them a tentative smile. Even his awkwardness looked exactly the way she described him to be.

“This is Lee Donghyuck, our vocalist.” Jeno introduced him, “He’s an ass and you’ll probably get into a fight with him sooner or later—we all did—but after that, he’ll get all clingy to you. Just a heads up so you won’t be surprised and end up leaving the band before the gig.”

Mark laughed at that, friendly and warm, and it set Donghyuck’s heart ablaze for an entirely different reason. It was the first time he met him and yet he already despised everything that he was.

“It’s weird,” Mark said, offering his hand for a handshake. “I thought your friends call you Haechan too.”

Donghyuck froze, almost losing his grip on his phone. “What?”

Mark blinked, the realization hit him like a wave when he looked around, noticing everyone looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and questioning eyes. “Oh, I mean,” he panicked, “I-it’s nothing. I was just talking to myself. I’m weird that way.”

“Don’t worry, bud,” Jeno said, picking up his bass. “We’re all a bunch of freaks here. That’s why we get along.”

Mark smiled but seemed more like a grimace. He turned toward Donghyuck again. “Sorry about that. Nice to meet you, Lee Donghyuck. I hope we can be friends.”

Donghyuck took his hand but wished for the exact opposite.

***

“Do you have some time to spare, Donghyuck-ah?”

Donghyuck already knew who it was without having to glance up from his phone screen. It wasn’t because Mark’s voice was distinct to his ears, it was simply because his voice and the way he said his name as if they were best friends irked him so much.

“No,” Donghyuck answered, tapping his thumbs rapidly to earn another high score on the game he was playing. He was squatting down on the ground with his shoulders slouched forward. They just finished having their third band practice in the same studio that week, and although he was drained to his boots, Jeno kept insisting to have another practice so they wouldn’t embarrass the shit out of themselves when they performed as the opening act at prom.

Mark laid his guitar case against the wall before he took a seat next to him in the alley that stood behind their music studio. “Well, you look like you do, so I’m just gonna sit here and ask you something.”

Donghyuck scoffed. “You’re actually pretty annoying, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like me—”

“I dislike people in general, so don’t consider yourself special.”

Mark seemed amused at his words which pissed him off even more. “I know we just met for a few days and it’s probably better for me to leave you alone—”

“And yet, here you are, talking to me when I’m trying to finish this fucking game.” He moved his thumbs more frantically than before, making Mark worry that he was going to break his phone screen, and stopped when the game ended with him winning second place. “Look what you’ve done. Happy now?”

“I thought that was a pretty high score.”

“That was the lowest score I’ve ever achieved in my life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just fuck off, Mark.” Even when his tone sounded final, Mark did not budge.

“I promise I’ll leave you alone after this, but I just really need to ask something first,” he said, slightly forcing the other man to look at him by placing an arm on his shoulder. “I see you a lot in my dreams.”

Donghyuck knew exactly what he meant, but he wasn’t going to dwell himself in it. “Sorry, dude,” he uttered, slapping his hand away. “I’m not gay.”

“No. That’s not what I meant.” Mark had the bravery to laugh about it. “You’ve heard about the soulmate dream, right? How you could see your soulmate’s memories—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about it and I’m also not interested.” He stood up, tucking his phone back to the pocket of his jeans, and leaned sideways to grab his backpack. “I’m leaving.”

“Please.” Mark stopped him by wrapping his thin fingers along his wrist. “Please help me. By your reaction, I know she’s told you about me and I want to find her—I need to find her. I just don’t know where to start. I don’t even know her name.”

“Well, it’s not my fucking problem, is it?” Donghyuck harshly pulled his wrist away, stomping his feet on the pavement, away from the other man.

Mark stood up, desperation sounding thick in his voice. “Can’t we just—Donghyuck-ah!”

“Fuck off, Mark.”

“You love her, don’t you?”

That stopped him in his tracks, making him turn on his heels, hissing, “Excuse me?”

Mark fidgeted slightly, swallowing his breath. “You’re acting this way because you love her. More than a friend. That’s why you don’t want to help me.”

He had earned his whole attention now. “The reason why I’m not helping you is simply because you’re a fucking stranger who’s looking for ways to get into my best friend’s pants.”

“I’m not—” Mark blushed. “Listen, I’m just trying to find my soulmate. I know she’s looking for me too. I’ve seen her memories. I’ve seen you spending a lot of time with her too. I won’t be surprised if you end up having feelings for her—”

Donghyuck almost bared his teeth. “Shut up.”

“But she’s not your soulmate, so—“

“Shut the fuck up!” It happened so fast for Mark’s eyes to catch, but the next thing he knew, Donghyuck’s fingers were fisting the collar of his shirt, slamming his body against the wall and Mark groaned lowly, feeling pain spreading like wildfire from the back of his skull.

“You don’t know anything about me, Mark Lee.” The way Donghyuck spat out his name was laced with nothing but venom. “And don’t you dare talk to me about this soulmate bullshit. Falling in love with a complete stranger just because you saw her in your dreams? Do you know how fucking ridiculous you sound in my head?”

Still wincing from the pain, he replied, “I saw the way you looked at her.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Donghyuck snarled, tightening his grip around the fabric of his shirt. “And if I were you, I would just fuck off and try my luck finding her somewhere else because I’m not gonna tell you anything. Do we have that clear?”

Mark didn’t say a word in response, but his eyes were locked into his. Donghyuck could see how they didn’t waver in the slightest, and the way Mark’s fingernails were sinking deep into his wrist let him know that this man could hold his own battle if needed.

Donghyuck released his hold with a hard shove, and Mark didn’t blink an eye even after knowing his strength.

“Just so you know,” Mark said, when Donghyuck began to step away, slinging his backpack to one of his shoulders. “She would’ve done the opposite for you. She would’ve helped you find your soulmate. But I guess, you already know that.”

Donghyuck stomped off, kicking a trash can on his way out until it toppled over to the ground.

***

Their next band practice was filled with nothing but severe tension between him and Mark, and Jeno had to sigh in exasperation every time one of them made a mistake and blamed the other for it.

“The two of you,” he said, scowling at the two boys who were still trying to murder each other with their glares. “Just go home. Now.”

And unlike Mark, Donghyuck didn’t hesitate—didn’t even try to reason. He just snatched his backpack and walked out the door, slamming his shoulder against Mark’s on his way out.

Jeno grimaced, probably imagining the trouble Mark had to bear while seeing him rubbing off the pain. “Remember when I told you he’s an ass?”

Mark timidly smiled. “Yeah.”

Donghyuck walked home with a sore throat and sweaty bangs. He was no longer as furious as before, but he had to make sure to push every thought of Mark away from his head if he wanted to spend the rest of his evening in peace. He was beyond exhausted and in desperate need of a good, warm shower. He glanced at the house he grew to be more familiar than his own, feeling disappointed that she wasn’t sitting on her porch, waiting for his arrival like usual though she would never admit that out loud.

Well, he should’ve seen that coming. After what happened that morning, he would’ve avoided him too if he was her. But almost a week had passed and they had no interaction, not even meeting each other by coincidence. And although she seemed fine with it, Donghyuck felt more than miserable.

God, if only I can stop missing her so much…

But he couldn’t, so he broke through her fence, and turned over the doorknob of her front door. “Auntie? It’s me. I’m coming in.”

The clicking sounds of footsteps meeting vinyl flooring had him excited in anticipation of her face and the shy, awkward smile she always threw whenever they had arguments a few moments before. But the one who greeted him was her mother, grinning widely at the sight of him as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Ah, Hyuckie,” she squealed. “Glad you’re here, I was just making dinner. Wanna join us?”

“Oh, no thanks. I just ate something on the way back. Is she here?”

“She said she was heading to the park to draw something. It was hours ago, though. I’m also wondering why she hasn’t come home yet.”

“I see…” There was a knot in his stomach again, making him feel uneasy but he beamed at her again. “Well, I think she’ll be back soon but I’ll go search for her, just in case.”

She pressed a hand against her heart. “Aaw. Always being her knight in shining armor. She’s so lucky to have you.”

He blushed but covered it with a peal of bashful laughter. Saying his goodbye, he turned around to take his leave but she stopped him with a call of his name. “Yeah, auntie?”

“Have you heard…” She hesitated. “Have you heard about her soulmate?”

Donghyuck curled his fingers. “A little.”

Her eyes gleamed in sadness and, as much as Donghyuck hated to see it, sympathy. “Are you okay, Hyuckie? With all of this?”

Thunder roared inside his chest, making him stand still. “What—of course, I’m fine. I’m glad she’s having these dreams. She’ll probably gonna see him soon.”

And Donghyuck never pegged himself as an actor, but seeing how she gradually picked up her motherly smile back on her face and no longer staring at him as if one of his family members just died in such a tragic way, maybe he had a natural talent in lying about his emotions.

“I’m so glad you’re taking this well. I guess I’m not as sharp as I used to be.” She chuckled to herself, a bit diffident. “To tell you the truth, I was rooting for you to be her soulmate. You guys just look so adorable together, but maybe it’s weird for you since you probably think of her as a sister or something.”

“That’s right.” There was a crack in his voice, but he hastily covered it with another smile. “A sister.”

“Which turns out to be a good thing. Because if you love her that way but she’s not your soulmate then it’s going to be hard on both of you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You see, finding a soulmate is a rare, wonderful thing that can only occur once in a lifetime. It’s a sign from fate, and if you ignore that sign, if you don’t accept who your soulmate is and be with someone else, something bad will happen, either to yourself or to your relationship.”

“Something bad like what?”

“I don’t know, it just usually doesn’t work out.” She frowned a little bit, noticing how he seemed unusually invested with the topic. “It’s just a rumor, though, darling. So just take any of this with a grain of salt. No one can prove whether it’s true or false.”

“Of course, yeah.” He shook his head, taking control of himself. “Well, thanks anyway. I gotta go.”

“Take care, Hyuckie. And let me know when you start dreaming about your soulmate! I want to know who the lucky girl is!”

He waved a hand, replying to her with a smile but not promising anything.

***

It was already nightfall when he came to his senses, and he hadn’t found her no matter how many steps had he taken in the search of her presence. He had visited the park she often went to in her spare time, the garden near their houses, even the cafe where she once grew fond of. And yet, she was nowhere to be found.

He had tried to call her several times but they were always directed to her voicemails, and he grew even more anxious with more time passing by, worried sick of her well-being.

So when she finally walked past his house, carrying her sketchbook in her arms and a dazed smile on her face, Donghyuck nearly screamed.

“Where the hell have you been?!” He shouted, jumping off his porch and ran to her spot. She was startled, her entire body shaking by the sound of his voice. Her sketchbook slipped from her hands, meeting the cold hard ground that was slightly damp from the drizzle.

“You scared me,” she said, her hand going to her chest. “I was just from the park—“

“I was from the park and you weren’t there!” His eyes were scanning her profile, making sure she was fine. “Where have you been? Do you know how late it is?”

She frowned. “Why do you sound like my mother?”

“I’m not—” Donghyuck exhaled loudly through his nose, trying to collect himself. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m fine, so you can stop acting so weird.” She bent down to pick up her sketchbook, but he was faster. “Thanks.” She awkwardly smiled when he handed it to her, noticing how his fingertips brushed hers ever so slightly. “Have you been looking for me all this time? I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I thought you were avoiding me.”

There were a good few seconds of silence where they just gazed deep into each other’s eyes before they began to quietly laugh, exchanging sheepish smiles with knowing eyes. “I guess we avoided each other for nothing then,” she said, holding out her hand. “Are we okay? With everything?”

Donghyuck’s eyes were soft and longing as they peered into hers. He took her hand and pulled her forward until she landed on his chest, embracing her tightly with both arms. “We’re okay.”

“Good,” she lightly murmured, placing her chin on his shoulder as she tiptoed to match his height. “Because I’ve missed you, Haechannie. You and your whole stupid antics.”

It still felt awkward for him, and maybe for her too, to suddenly ignore their heated debate about the kiss they shared and the feelings they had for each other. And maybe they would fight about it again in the future, probably with him starting the fire the second he lost control of his emotions again. But he wanted to forget all of that for now, just for tonight, so he could focus on how perfect she felt in his arms, how both overwhelmingly intoxicating and comforting her scent was, and how nice it was to hear his name falling down her lips.

“I’ve missed you too, Noona,” he whispered. “You could’ve at least texted me where you were. I was worried sick about you.”

“Okay, that was what I was going to tell you.” She pulled away slightly so she could look at him with a pair of animated eyes. “I just went on a date.”

“A… date?” He shivered. “With who?”

“With Mark Lee.” Her cheeks turned rosy with her smile nearly splitting her face in half. “My soulmate.”

Donghyuck gaped, a spark of electricity running through his veins. “H-how?” He swallowed hard.

“A funny story, actually.” She shyly rubbed her nose. “I was trying to draw that pine tree near the pond—the one where we used to carve our names on—and I saw him passing by with his guitar case strapped to his back and a camera in his hand—just like the first time I saw him in my dream. And he saw me through his camera lens and then we were just staring at each other with our mouth wide-open, like can you believe it? It just happened out of nowhere. He noticed me at the same time I noticed him so he must have been seeing me in his dreams too.”

With more words falling from her lips, Donghyuck’s heart raced even faster. It was the first time in his life he ever felt terrified down to his soul. He felt weak, powerless and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a way to win against fate. He didn’t know how to defy his destiny.

Though she was an arm’s reach away, it felt like they existed in different universes.

***

It’s hard to pretend to be fine when deep down inside, you feel like drowning and Donghyuck knew how that felt first hand. She regularly came by to his room to say hello but she never laid herself down on his bed. She never touched his arms when she laughed. She no longer pressed her cheek against his shoulder when she felt sleepy. He could tell that she was trying to respect his feelings, not wanting to lead him further ever since that accidental kiss happened. She was trying to be cautious, to draw lines between them, so he’d know his boundaries and stay still on his place, and continue to regard her as nothing but a friend.

It was torture.

They no longer spent their nights together, with her making excuses about studying for her final tests and her college entrance exams. And Donghyuck didn’t mind, though his heart craved desperately for her attention because he couldn’t properly breathe whenever she was around. He felt like he was transforming into someone else, almost like a robot, that only smiled when she smiled and responded with words as little as necessary.

He continued seeing her in his dreams every night, and only then could he truly feel joy. Only then he could have the time to look at her face as long as he wanted. Only then he could hear her calling his name without inflicting some kind of pain in his chest. But even then, he still couldn’t touch her. Even then, she was still out of reach.

She was moving out of town before long, preparing herself to settle at her dorm before she started her first year in college.

“Hey,” Donghyuck softly called, as he leaned against her doorframe, watching her finish packing what was left in her room. It was unfamiliar, he thought, the sight of her room now that her novels were packed in boxes, her clothes were no longer hanging inside her closet, the posters of her favorite idols folded and unseen. It was only her scent that somehow still linger faintly in the air that seemed recognizable to him.

“Hi.” She smiled back, her shoulders going down in relief at the sight of him smiling sheepishly with his eyes peeking from under his bangs. “I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t come to say goodbye.”

“Of course, I would. I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in a while.” The way she said it, almost heartbrokenly, made his smile falter from his face.

“Yeah, sorry, I was…” He scratched his cheek. “Busy.”

She took a good look at him, not saying anything and it made him feel queasy. “I saw you on stage during your graduation,” he said, changing the topic. “You looked beautiful.”

“Why didn’t you come to say hi? I was looking for you.”

You did? “You seem occupied with your friends and family. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Haechannie,” she sighed and he wondered what kind of mistake did he make with his words. “You’ll never bother me. I mean, yes, you bother me a lot as in you annoy the hell out of me but you never bother me with your presence. I missed you on that day. I’ve been missing you for the whole week. And I still kinda miss you now.”

He grew weak. “I miss you too.”

“Why do we keep saying these things when we literally live next to each other?” She chuckled but it sounded dry before she gave in to the silence again. “Are things… okay between us?”

He tried not to flinch. “Were things not okay between us before?”

“I don’t know, you were acting a bit weird after…” She knew the words, she just wasn’t sure whether it was wise for her to say them. “Well, after everything that happened. I just wasn’t sure how to approach you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess there were just a lot of things running through my mind at the same time.” He brought his head down, looking at his feet. “I’m okay now, though. And I hope we can go back to how we were.”

“Of course, Haechannie.” She stood up, opening her arms to him and he answered immediately, half-running to her spot before he circled his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She sighed the second their skins make contact with each other, exhaling in relief. “Please don’t ever give me the cold shoulder again. I can’t stand it.”

“Okay, okay.” He almost let his lips graze her temple as he spoke. Almost. “Do you want to go somewhere, just the two of us? You’re not leaving until tomorrow, right?”

“I won’t be leaving until next year if that’s what you want me to do.” She grinned childishly. “So take me away, Haechannie. I’m all yours.”

And although he mirrored her grin, his heart was shattering one piece at a time because he knew she only meant her last line as a fleeting joke, and yet he wanted it to become a promise made solely for him.

They tried to catch up as much as they could during dinner in the cafe that she loved so much. He hated the taste of their food—everything somehow felt either too sweet or too sour on his tongue—but he never mentioned it to her, not wanting to erase her happy grin whenever she took a spoonful of gelato into her mouth. Their conversations didn’t go as awkward as he had imagined, but it ended up with her asking more questions and with him only nodding or shaking his head in response. He tried to cover it up with smiles or waves of laughter, and noticing how she hadn’t complained about it so far, maybe he did a pretty good job of masking his feelings.

“It feels so good to have you back,” she said, hands buried deep in the pocket of her coat as she blew hot air into the cold weather, watching puffs of air forming in front of her lips.

They were walking back to their houses, matching their steps with one another with their voices being the only ones that could be heard within the neighborhood. It was late, and she knew she really should have gone to catch some sleep to wake up early on the next day but Donghyuck’s voice in her ears was soothing, making her long to hear more of it, especially when she knew, she wouldn’t be able to hear it again in a while.

Donghyuck sank half of his face behind his scarf. “I never left you, though.”

“Liar. You totally avoided me this whole time.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You kissed me and pretended it didn’t mean shit.”

“I kissed you?!” She gasped, blushing as she stopped in her tracks. “It was an accident!”

Donghyuck turned around, facing her. “It was still a kiss, nonetheless.”

They were walking on a thin rope. He knew it was a sensitive topic, and she also knew that it was best for them to avoid it but she was leaving on the next day and she couldn’t help but feel that he was still holding secrets from her. It was time for her to face this once and for all, so they could go back to the way they were before it was too late.

“What exactly do you want me to do about it?” She nervously asked, but tried to keep her voice steady. “I can’t exactly turn back time.”

Donghyuck’s eyes glinted mysteriously under the dim lighting of the streetlight. “You really want to have this conversation after what happened to us last time?”

“It’s not like you’re giving me any options. I just want us to be like how we used to, not with you acting all awkward and agreeing to every word I said.”

“So you noticed? I thought I was putting a good act.”

“Haechannie.” It was almost like a plead, the way she said his name. “I’m tired of seeing you like this. Like you’re in pain and I’m the one who caused it. So if you have anything to say, say it right now. What are you so upset about, exactly?”

He took his time contemplating, he really did, but he hadn’t finished thinking everything through before his emotions took control over him again, making him blurt out, “I don’t know, I guess I’m just pissed because you seem fine the next day after that kiss happened and I’m over here losing sleep still trying to sort out my goddamn feelings for you.” There was a pause, as he tried to catch his breath, but before she could form a response, he questioned, “Do you ever feel something for me, Noona?”

She swallowed. “I don’t know, I’m—”

“Be honest.”

Another pause, where silence struck like a hurricane. “Maybe I did have feelings for you in the past,” she finally admitted and his eyes gleamed in both joy and anticipation, “But even then, I wasn’t sure because we grew up together, Haechannie. We slept on the same bed, we even took baths together. I wasn’t sure of how I felt because I never had this kind of relationship with anyone before.” She sighed, rubbing the side of her temple. “And with you constantly making me confused on whether you had feelings for me or not also didn’t make this any easier for me.”

“What about now?” It was the question that mattered the most to him. “How do you feel about me now?”

“Haechannie—”

“No, listen to me.” He stepped forward, wrapping his lean fingers along her wrist. “Remember that time on the beach when you dared me to be romantic and I told you I loved you? I think you know by now that I wasn’t pretending that night—”

She averted her gaze, trying to pull her hand away. “Please stop—”

“Noona.” He cupped her cheeks with both hands, lifted her face so she could only look at him. “I still feel the same way about you. It never changed, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it because I cared about our friendship as much as you do, but—”

“Stop.” Lying a hand on his chest, she tried to push him away. “It isn’t right. You’re not my soulmate, we shouldn’t do this—”

“I don’t care about your fucking soulmate!”

The sudden roar that erupted from his mouth was echoing loud in her ears, making her freeze on her feet, with her hands shivering against his chest. She looked frightened and it tore him to pieces. Cursing under his breath, he stepped away, his skin no longer making contact with hers.

“I just…” He started and failed instantly, wanting to caress her cheek, embrace her to soothe her down but was too scared of startling her again. “What I want to say is that I care about us. I care about you more than I have ever cared about anyone else in my life.”

“I care about you too, Haechannie.” There was a quiver in her voice as if she was on the verge of crying. “I care so much about you.”

“Why does it feel to me like you’re about to contradict your own words?” There was no answer and the tension was so thick, it felt like he was suffocating. “I saw your reaction at that time when we were at the beach. I know how you wished parts of my confession were true and I’m telling you that all of it was—I meant every word I said that night.”

“Stop—”

“I love you, Noona,” he immediately said, before she took his chance in answering. “I really do, now more than ever. So if you still have feelings for me, please—”

“I don’t.”

Donghyuck’s jaw fell slacked on his face. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Haechannie. I’m sorry for leading you on, but I don’t. I don’t feel the same way.” She was looking everywhere but his eyes, her voice was clouded with emotions, becoming unclear as seconds went by. “I care about you and I do love you but only as a brother and a friend. I can’t give you more than that.”

He stood still in silence, clenching his jaws. “Can’t or won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head frantically. “Look, we have soulmates for a reason. Even if we both give in and accept our feelings, what if it doesn’t work out?”

“I don’t care, I’m willing to try.”

“Well, I’m not. I care about our friendship too much. I don’t want anything to ruin what we have now. Especially after I meet my soulmate and you meet yours.”

Donghyuck could feel himself slowly withering away. “So you just want us to go back to how we were? After this?”

“Yes.” He didn’t have to see her to know she was spilling tears from her eyes. It was already spoken clear in her voice. “I-if that’s okay with you.”

And if he was much more mature, maybe he would’ve been able to let everything go. Maybe he would’ve been able to step forward and twist his fingers around the strands of her hair, cradling her gently in his arms and whisper, “Of course. I’ll always be here for you.” But that wouldn’t be him. And he was so tired of being someone else this whole time, trying to hide how he really felt for her.

So, underneath the darkness and the silence of the space that was hanging between them, he told her, “No, I don’t think we can go back to how we were.” And even as he watched her cry, covering the sobs that threatened to fall from her lips with her palm, he said, “I’m sick of pretending, Noona. So if I can’t have you that way, I don’t think I can be your friend and do nothing but sit there, watching you slip away into another man’s arms. I’m not as good of a person as you think I am. And as long as we’re both selfish with what we want—with you wanting to keep our friendship together and with me wanting you that way—this is as close as we can get.”

“What—” Her shoulders were shaking with every breath she took. “Why does it have to come to this—I—”

“Make your decision now.” His voice was loud and clear, making him surprised by how steady he sounded despite all the storms swirling in his chest. “Be with me or push me away. Your choice.”

Tears were spilling down her cheeks as her eyes grew wide, staring at him with parted lips but only whimpers could be heard. He knew how ruthless he was being, and he felt sorry for making her stand in this position.

So, with a heavy heart, he walked away.

***

Days passed by in silence, and they turned to weeks, and months, and when he finally had the bravery to reply to her words with sentences longer than, “I’m doing fine,” and “Sorry for the late response, I had things to do.” It was already several months after his graduation and he was moving out of the place he called home into his dormitory that stood hundreds of kilometers away from her place.

He was nineteen and she was twenty, and he had never loved anyone else while she was tangled deep in her lover’s arms.

And it was maybe his fault because he was the one who pushed her away. She’d asked him to take a day off college so they could fly back to their hometown and celebrate his birthday together but he declined, making random excuses that sounded like a train of lies to her ears but she took notice of his tone and forced out a laugh.

“Then maybe I’ll see you when my birthday comes up?”

“Sure.” But it wasn’t a promise. He thanked her for the present she gave him but ending his call shortly before she even asked about his day.

He sent her a birthday present—a book that she once loved to read as a child, but was thrown away by her mother by accident—and he received five missed calls from her and nine different texts, begging him to answer her calls but Donghyuck was busy burying his fingers deep inside his locks and yanking at the roots with one hand, and rubbing the unspilled tears from his eyes with his other one as he sat on the edge of his bed, swallowed by the darkness of his room.

And he began to fear the night when exhaustion would consume every part of his body and invisible hands began to press his eyelids down until he fell asleep and woke up in her memories. It was painful enough for him to not be able to see himself as often as he used to, and it was torture when Jaemin began to take his place, forcing Donghyuck to stand in the background and watch as he planted his lips on the pair that should’ve belonged to him. He had to hear her gasp Jaemin’s name between kisses, had to see her card her fingers through his sandy blonde hair, had to see her watching him with dazed eyes and swollen lips.

Donghyuck always willed himself to wake up and he found himself breathing hard when he did.

That night, another memory occurred and it was when she shared her first kiss with Mark. They were at her dorm, her roommate was away and she pulled him by the hand to walk deeper into her room. Mark seemed awkward, like how he always did, scanning the room and gulping as he noticed how the entire place smelled pleasantly like her.

“Coffee?” She offered, and he nodded. Taking a seat at the side of her bed, he played with his fingers, trying to hide the quiver that sparked in his fingertips. She joined him soon after with two cups of hot coffee on her hands, which he took with a grateful smile.

“Why do you look so nervous?” She questioned between small, shy giggles that wrenched Donghyuck’s heart from how much he missed hearing them.

“I’m not—it’s just—” Mark gulped, tapping his fingers anxiously against the cup. “It’s my first time being in a girl’s room.”

“Haven’t you dated anyone before?”

“I went on a few dates but nothing serious happened. And when I started seeing you in my dreams, I just stopped dating entirely.”

She was about to take a sip of her coffee but stopped mid-air, eyes unblinking. “You were waiting for me?”

He bashfully smiled. “M-maybe…”

Her eyes drooped down, a faint blush smearing her cheeks. She placed her cup down on her nightstand before she turned toward him again and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“What—” He sputtered, holding the side of his face, his round eyes turning even wider. “What was that for?”

But she didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned in for another kiss, and this time, he answered with his lips instead.

Donghyuck woke up with a pain in his chest, and he felt so sick, so disturbed, that he began to jump down his bed, startling his roommate who was deep in slumber. He snatched his jacket from the floor and closed the door behind him with a small thud. He needed to distract himself so he burst into the night air, not caring if the cold made his teeth chatter behind his lips.

***

His dreams, they became nightmares. And they didn’t stop even when he woke up. He was losing sleep and had the hardest time concentrating on everything. He was putting his best effort to move on, to forget about her existence entirely and he had been successfully avoiding her calls or her pleads to meet up every time a long holiday came up. But how could he forget about her when she kept showing up in his dreams, making him feel jealous, feel pained, with no way of stopping it?

It was a week before his birthday when his mother begged him to come home and celebrate it together with his whole family. Though he was reluctant to go, worrying that he’d probably see her on his way back, he eventually agreed to his mother’s wish. If they ended up meeting each other, maybe it was a sign for him to tell her about these dreams he’d been having of her and see how it would go from there.

It was raining, the third day he spent lounging on the bed in his room. It looked just about the same, but with fewer things and thicker specks of dust. And he kept his curtain closed, not wanting to look at the other side of his window.

A sudden ring of his iPhone sent jolts to his entire body.

It was from an unknown number. He usually wouldn’t respond to it, but there was something in his chest that told him to answer no matter what excuses he came up with.

He slid his thumb along the screen and pressed the phone to his ear, but he did not say a word, waiting for the other person to ignite the conversation.

“Haechannie. It’s me.”

He had a hunch who it was, but hearing the sound of her voice so close to his ear still almost sent him falling to his knees. The words I miss you, I’m sorry I’ve been trying to push you away, but I can’t pretend anymore, I miss you, I miss you so much, I’m going insane threatened to fall from his lips so he kept his mouth shut, not believing in himself just yet.

“I could tell how you wouldn’t pick up if you knew it was me, so I’m using a new number.”

“It’s…” He licked his lips, trying to tame his racing heart. “It’s been a while, Noona.”

“Don’t say that when you’ve been avoiding me for years, Lee Donghyuck. I know you’re home so let me in. It’s pouring outside.”

His grip tightened around his phone. “You’re… here?”

“Yes, idiot. Your mom told me last night that you’re here so I flew back the first thing in the morning to meet you. If you make one more excuse of not wanting to see me, I will literally climb up your wall and kick your window open myself, I swear to God.”

Donghyuck would’ve laughed because it was so her to say things like that whenever she got angry, but he was so overwhelmed with the thoughts of seeing her in person that he tripped over his own feet before he ran down the stairs.

The second he opened the front door and saw her standing on his porch, with her hair a little wet from the rain, all the air nearly left his lungs. She was still wearing her trench coat, a scarf around her neck with her suitcase stood idly next to her. He noticed that she must have returned straight back from the airport, not even spending a second resting in her own house when it was only a few steps away from where she stood.

“Can I come in?” She asked, trembling slightly from the cold. There was a huge urge to embrace her that he almost couldn’t control, to share his warmth and steal all the shivers away from her body. But he swallowed all of his feelings with a hard gulp, and stepped back to let her in with a small nod.

She closed the front door behind her, pressing her spine against it and they both waited in the silence of his house, expecting the other to strike a conversation but neither of them had the bravery to find a word. The ticking sound of the grandmother’s clock in his guest room was loud, matching the thundering sound of his heartbeat.

“Where are your family?” She eventually uttered, peeking at him from behind her bangs.

“Visiting my cousins outside of town.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Just didn’t feel like going so I told them I was sick.”

“I see…”

And silence struck again. It was so tense, the awkwardness between them and it was beginning to suffocate him. “Noona, I think—”

“Can I hug you?” She spoke in such a quiet voice, but it sent powerful vibrations down his spine. He was busy gawking at her, not sure how to respond and it didn’t matter, because she already took a few steps toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking her face deep into the crook of his neck.

Donghyuck let out a shaky breath, his arms still dangling weakly on his sides.

“Seems like you’ve lost some weight,” she spoke in whispers, her breath felt like fire on his skin. “Have you been eating well?”

It was hard trying to focus on her voice when the sound of his heart clamoring inside his ribcages was deafening in his ears. He only hummed in response, moving his hands slightly until they rested on the sides of her waist, tense and awkward.

“I really,” she breathed, her voice quivering. “Really miss you, Haechannie.”

It was all too much for him to bear, too many flashbacks, uncontrolled feelings, and hidden emotions washed over him at the same time, making him feel dizzy and emotive. So instead, he focused on what mattered the most. “You’re shivering. We should get you changed.” And he pulled away before she could reply. Noticing how the loss of their warmth on each other’s skin was as painful for her as it was to him, he offered his hand with a timid smile, which she immediately laced together with hers.

He guided her to his room and released her hand to rummage the inside of his closet, trying to find that particular sweater of his that she grew to be fond of. She slid open his curtain to brighten the room though it didn’t do much because the clouds were dark and thick, pouring heavy rain to the earth.

“Here,” he said, handing her his navy blue knitted sweater. “I’ll go outside so you can change.”

She grabbed him by his wrist before he stepped aside. “No, it’s fine, just—” She cleared her throat, didn’t dare to look him in the eyes. “Just turn around for a little bit.”

The old Donghyuck would’ve had a blast teasing her about this, so when he simply turned around, bringing his head down to stare at his feet while scratching his nape from being both shy and awkward, the feeling of loneliness began to consume her heart.

She was losing him. He wasn’t the person she remembered him to be.

“I’m done,” she called when she had finished changing her damp blouse into his sweater. The fabric fell loose around her body, its hem reaching to the middle part of her jean-clad thighs. “You can turn around now.”

Donghyuck slowly turned on his heels, but his eyes were looking everywhere but hers because he knew, once he saw her again wearing his clothing around her body like a lover would, he would lose his common sense.

“It feels familiar, doesn’t it?” She lightly laughed, trying to keep it casual but it felt strained. “I mean, us spending time in your room with me wearing your clothes.”

He tiredly smiled, leaning against the wall. “Yeah.”

“How was your birthday yesterday? I’m sorry for not sending you any present, I wasn’t sure you wanted to receive one from me... Did auntie make you a cake?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t good.”

She tucked a loose strand of her hair, wetting her lips. “You always said that, but you ate all of it.”

He wanted to sneak a glance at her, wanted to be captivated by her beauty just for a split second, but noticing it was best for him to stop. Otherwise, she’d entrap him again. “Yeah… I did.”

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“Can you look at me, please?”

He tightened his jaw, taking a few seconds in silence to prepare himself before he slowly looked up, peering at her features from behind his bangs.

He had seen her sad before—multiple times, in fact—but it was never like this. She never looked this heartbroken before, and he loathed the fact that, unlike any other times where she cried over anyone else, he was now the reason for such emotion to arise.

And maybe he looked the same to her, as she instantly grew speechless, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweater. “How… are you?” She asked, and he knew that wasn’t the question she intended to say but maybe she was afraid and uncertain whether her words would inflict more sadness to his eyes more than she already did so far.

“I’m doing well.”

“Have you made any friends at your campus?”

“A few.”

“Ah… Great, then.” She was going insane, she could feel it, and when he never tried to spark a conversation like she did, she began to lose her patience. “Why have you been avoiding me?” Her tone somehow a tad colder this time around.

Donghyuck slipped his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You ignored my calls, you rarely replied to my texts—”

“Yeah, well, I was busy—”

“Two years, Haechannie. You had two fucking years to reach out back to me, and you’re simply telling me you were busy?! If you’re going to lie, lie better!”

“Well, you already have your whole life perfect without me anyway.”

Hot tears began to well in her eyes. “Do you not… need me anymore?”

He looked away, his chest suffocating. “You should leave. Get some rest. We’ll talk la—”

“Stop it!” She cried out, forcing him to look at her in the eyes by the desperate tone in her voice. “Stop acting like this! Stop pretending like you’re not hurting when you are just as much as I am!”

His eyes gleamed in the dim lighting of the room. “Why are you even here?”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain that was about to erupt from her chest. “Is it so wrong for me to see you?”

“I thought we’ve both decided that it’s best if we stay away from each other.”

“You decided.” It was both sorrow and anger that painted her voice. “You decided to stay away from me. I never wanted us to be like this. I’ve been trying to reach out to you and you pushed me away every time, so don’t you dare blame this on me.”

“What do you expect me to do?” He vocalized in outrage, his voice reverberating through the air almost as heavy as the storm that poured outside. “I revealed all of my feelings out to you, asked you to make a choice and you just stood there doing fucking nothing! How do you think that made me feel?”

She stepped back, her hand on her chest. “I—” She fumbled with her words. “It was all so sudden, I didn’t know how—”

“So sudden?!” He threw his head back in exasperation. “I have been trying to tell you that for years, Noona!”

“You flirted with me for years, that didn’t count as—”

“Well, I had to pretend everything was a joke because you always looked like you were seconds away from crying, afraid of ruining our friendship and it made me think that maybe you never really liked me that way at all! I don’t even know how you feel about me now because you’re never honest even with yourself.”

“I…” She nibbled on her lower lip, scared and anxious. “I don’t know whether I—”

“Of course, you don’t,” he spat out, scoffing loudly. “You never do. That’s what I fucking hate about you. You’re such a coward. You don’t want to be with me but you keep coming back to me, making me feel things I shouldn’t, making me yearn for you again when I literally spent every second of my life trying to forget you even exist. I had to watch you slip away from my arms twice as if it wasn’t enough for you to hurt me one time—”

“I never meant to hurt you—”

“But that’s all you fucking do!” Donghyuck unintentionally slammed the side of his fist against the wall out of sheer fury, making her take a step backward, terrified. “Do you know how much you’re driving me insane from seeing you here within my grasp but not having the right to touch you in the way I want to? Just how fucking selfish can you be?!”

Tears were forming in her eyes, but he wasn’t sure whether they emerged from sadness or anger. “I’m selfish?! I’m trying to do the right thing! You know how things can go bad if we ignore the signs and deny our soulmate, so even if I agree to be with you, what if things don’t work out and we end up—”

“I’m so fucking tired of soulmates.”

Donghyuck had her body pressed against the wall, his hand on her face and his lips on hers, meeting together in a heated kiss. She closed her eyes in reflex, her fingers clutching tightly to the fabric of his shirt, gasping into his mouth when he pressed harder. Donghyuck felt like a flame, scorching every inch of her skin that was connected to his and she let herself grow weak, succumbing to the fire that was about to devour her whole.

When he let go, the tip of his nose was still grazing against hers, his fingertips holding her by the jaw, while his other hand was secured tightly around her waist.

“I’m giving you another chance to make your decision.” He breathed out, hot breath caressing her skin. “Be with me or push me away. Your choice.”

Her eyes were half-lidded, her breathing ragged and Donghyuck could count her eyelashes if he wanted to. It was torture to keep this little space between them because to him, they were like magnets, both desperately drawn to each other, wanting to consume one another.

Maybe it was like that for her too, because when she took her next breath, she had her fingers around the collar of his shirt, tugging it down so their lips met once again in a searing kiss.

It felt complete—no, it felt more than complete. It made him feel infinite. Every touch, every gasp, every little whimper that came out of her mouth made him feel alive and he wanted more, he wanted everything. He wanted her.

And to her, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it didn’t feel like she was doing something sinful, something forbidden. Everything felt right, the way her body fit his perfectly, the way he moved his lips against her, with the touch of their tongues nearly sending her down to her knees.

“Haechannie,” she breathed heavily as he ran his lips down her jaw to her neck, before he moved back up again, melding their lips together because he couldn’t waste any second longer being apart from her.

The desperate call of his name rendered him powerless so he pressed himself against her harder, embracing her better so they could hold on to each other. And by the relieved sigh she made as she circled her arms around his neck, her fingers finding a home in his hair, she must have felt the same.

“I love you,” he murmured against the supple skin of her neck, making a messy ponytail out of her hair to expose more skin. “Fuck, Noona, I’ve never loved anyone else but you.” He lifted her body up the wall, leaving her with no choice but to tangle her legs around his waist for balance, his hands sliding dangerously along her thighs as she connected their mouths again.

Donghyuck’s voice was deep and hoarse, foreign to her ears but she loved it. She loved everything new she found about him, as much as she had loved everything about him in the past. She knew she wasn’t being fair; she knew it wasn’t a good idea to hold him like this, but it felt so terrifyingly good and there was not a part of her mind and body that shouted for her to stop. He was her puppet master, plucking on her strings, and she didn’t mind being tangled under his fingers.

She flinched when she felt him pressing his hips against her, pinning her against the wall and he noticed as she moaned a bit louder against his mouth, pulling a similar groan from the back of his own throat. The sound of her lustful cry made him go absolutely insane and not familiar with his own strength, he carried her to the bed, making her yelp in shock and wrapping her legs and arms around him tighter in the fear of falling.

But the way he laid her down on his bed was surprisingly gentle, sliding down a pillow underneath her head before he dipped his face down, pressing a warm kiss on her temple. The sudden change of pace made her blush, cheeks blooming red as she became conscious of how he gazed at her features—how the previous loneliness in his eyes was replaced with both felicity and uncertainty, asking for her sign to stop or continue with everything.

She swallowed her breath when he stood on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, his silver necklace glinting faintly under the soft glow of thunder that flashed on the other side of the window. She flinched, not from the fear of lightning, but from the way his vulnerable eyes were filled with need and affection. She had once told him that Jaemin made her feel wanted—made her feel desired—and she thought that was really the case, until she saw the look Donghyuck gave her and suddenly everything that Jaemin did felt pale in comparison.

Donghyuck needed her like a drowning man needed air.

So when he bent down and kissed her again, she felt like he was unraveling her soul, stripping her naked both her body and her mind, and as if she was a blank canvas, he cast iridescence on her skin, drawing lines with his fingertips and painted a spectrum of colors with his lips.

As a man of passion, Donghyuck’s kisses were strangely tender but it elicited as much fire, if not more, as any fervent kisses she had ever shared with the other two men in her life.

“Noona,” he abruptly stopped, eyes unfocused as he broke away, expanding the space between them but only for a few inches. “You’re not regretting any of this, are you?” It was the question he’d been dreading to ask, but he had to before she ended up living with guilt. “I told you to make a choice before but…” He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb against her skin in such a soothing manner that she would’ve probably fallen asleep to it if her heart wasn’t racing like this. “But if you feel like this is not what you want, you can back out anytime. I’m not going to force you, and I’m not going to leave you even if you push me away now. I’ll still be your friend, I promise, so it’s okay.” He smiled but the only thing it conveyed was sadness. “It’s okay if you want to put an end to this. It’s okay if you don’t want to be with me. It’s your choice.”

She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like crying. “Well, I’m not okay with it.” She ran her thumb along his lower lip, in a paper-thin-like touch. “I think you’ve noticed by now that I…” It was too much. It really was too much for her to admit it without being flustered.

“Tell me,” he pleaded, gently taking her wrist when she was about to cover her face with her hands. “Tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

She shook her head, heart thumping loudly. “I can’t—It’s embarrassing. You already know how I feel anyway.”

“But I need to hear you say it.” He kissed her palm, leaning against her touch like how a little kitten would. “Please?”

Her voice was quivering when she spoke. “I love you, Haechannie.”

He’d heard her say those words many times in his life, but only now, they felt different in his ears. And almost like a prisoner being released from his chains, he nearly whimpered in bliss. “Y-you do?”

She shakily nodded her head once. “You were right. I’m a coward. I’m too afraid of losing what we have, not realizing that we can actually become so much more.”

He smiled, small but lovingly. “And it’s fine even if I’m not your soulmate?”

She was entranced with the way he kissed her fingertips one by one. “I don’t care.”

“I love you too, Noona.” His tongue was wet and slick when she felt it against her earlobe, his voice sounding dangerously close and sultry, even when his words were innocent. “You don’t know how glad I am to finally hear you say this. I’ve tried so hard to move on but I couldn’t. It’s just—for me—” his lips hovered above hers again, and she felt his whispers directly on her skin. “There’s no life without you.”

She carded her fingers through his hair, pushing back his bangs until she could gaze directly into his eyes. “There’s no life without you too, Haechannie.”

As they were connected, both their bodies and minds, it felt like nothing mattered anymore. They already had what they needed, already owned what they craved, already found what they were searching for. Donghyuck was sheathed deep inside her, his kisses were wet and languid, passion never dissipating no matter how many times he had tasted her.

It never felt unnatural, never felt awkward, and there were no uncertainties whenever their skin made contact. It was almost as natural as breathing, and though they needed more experience in some parts, they were already content with everything that they shared. Every breath, every gasp, every moan was sending heat to every inch of their bodies, making Donghyuck’s bangs stick with sweat and her cheeks reddening from his feverish touches.

When it finally ended, both still feeling lightheaded from reaching their highs, orgasms hitting hard like waves in a storm, Donghyuck was shaking, murmuring both expletives and praises against the skin that covered her heart, making her shiver.

“What is it?” She questioned tenderly, gentle fingertips caressing his cheekbone. “You’re trembling.”

But he didn’t answer, laying his head down on her chest, her heartbeat vocalizing faintly against his eardrums. He had never felt so happy, so complete, so perfect, and it was all because of her.

“I’m…” he exhaled heavily, lost for words as he sank deeper in his own elation. She curled her fingers around his jaw, lifting his face so they could peer into each other’s eyes.

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s late, but…” She beamed at him. “Happy birthday.”

And he kissed her with so much fervor, his eyebrows adjoined in passion and he whimpered against her mouth, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye and she smiled, hugging him close because finally, after seventeen years had passed, they truly found each other.

He was her life, and she was his, two different souls united into one.

***

Almost an hour passed by with them just enjoying each other’s company as they laid side-by-side on the bed, with Donghyuck idly sucking more bruises to her skin and her panting his name against his pillow. He was trailing his fingertips from her nape down to the dip of her spine as she laid with her stomach pressed against his sheets, slightly quivering from his touch.

Both of them lacked the energy to get dressed or wash their sweat away from before, and instead just dwell further in each other’s warmth, basking in the soft glow of the sunset that had replaced the storm.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” She asked with her cheek pressed against the pillow, looking at him with drowsy eyes.

He snorted. “Because you were too big of an idiot to notice and too goddamn stubborn to—”

“Forget I asked.”

Donghyuck grinned to himself but she soon felt it on her skin. “I’m still sweaty, Haechannie, get off me.”

“No way, I want to enjoy this,” his nose was skimming against the skin of her back. “It’s not every day I have a naked lady lounging on my bed. In fact, I’ve never had one. Ever.”

“Yeah?” She turned around, covering her bare chest with his quilt as she looked at him. “What about your girlfriends?”

“What girlfriends?”

“You know, the ones you got together with in high school. You told me you had sex with them.”

“Oh.” His playful smile grew sheepish. “I lied about it.”

“What? Why?”

“I was just trying to make you jealous. You were hanging out with Jaemin and I was so pissed!”

“I can’t believe how lame you were.”

“Hey, I was desperate!”

“So…” She slowly said, drawing her name on the square of his chest with her fingertip. “I’m your first?”

“You’ve always been, on everything.”

Her breathing tattered, blood rushing to her face, turning it scarlet. She moved her hand to his neck, playing with the silver necklace and the oval locket with her fingers. “I can’t believe you still wear this.”

“It’s the best present I’ve ever had,” he replied, leaning close until their foreheads meet one another. “From the best girl I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Stop saying things like this, I can’t handle it.” And she hooked her finger around his necklace, dragging him down to close the gap between them.

They both smiled into the kiss but what was once innocent and chaste, became deep and ardent in a matter of seconds. Donghyuck’s fingers were slipping underneath the comforter that she used to cover her body, feverish skin meeting her cold one and he looked at her in concern. “Are you cold?”

“Just a little bit.” She chuckled awkwardly before it was replaced with a gasp when he pulled her up by her waist and positioned her on his lap. He snatched the quilt away from her in one quick motion, leaving her naked and exposed before she toppled down to his chest. His hands found their way back around her waist, drawing her close so every inch of her skin was pressing against his. His warmth began to seep into her, and he draped his blanket around their bodies again.

“Better?” He looked up, his teeth peeking behind his grin that was both teasing and shy at the same time.

She melted into his touch, wanting to taste his lips again. “Better.”

She was distracted with the way he ran his tongue along her lower lip, sneaking in as soon as she granted him entrance to her mouth, but found her focus back when his hands start to roam around her chest. She immediately covered herself with both hands, embarrassed out of her mind.

“Why are you covering yourself?” He asked, chuckling faintly though his cheeks were reddening by the second. “You were fine when we had sex before. Let me see.”

“I just remembered that you once said I have small boobs.���

Donghyuck’s jaw hung loosely on his face. “That—I was just joking! I love your boobs—I love every—” He thought hard for the right word and failing miserably. “—every aspect of them, how soft they are, the little moles you have, and how they jiggle when—Why are you laughing?!”

But she couldn’t stop cackling even when he was pouting about it, complaining that he was being serious. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping a tear out of her eyes. “It’s just you were so dominatingly sexy before when you slammed me against the wall, and now you’re acting like such a dork, which is also cute but—” and she laughed again, covering her mouth with her fingers which he immediately took and replaced them with his mouth, turning her soft chuckles into pleading moans.

He cupped her breasts with his palms, groaning at the back of his throat from how perfect they felt under his hands, massaging them gently until she had to break away from the kiss, nibbling at her lip to contain her whimpers.

Donghyuck trailed more kisses down from her neck to the valley of her breasts, before he attached his soft, plump lips on her sensitive nub, making her arch her back in response. He peeked at her reaction from under his eyelashes, almost losing his mind from the sight of how alluring and sinful she looked. “Does it feel good?” He knew the answer but he needed her praise. He had waited for all this time to have her crying out his name in pleasure like this, he guessed he’d allow himself to be selfish just for tonight.

She shakily nodded, eyes tightly shut in pleasure but he didn’t stop until he had her whimpering, “Yes, yes,” into his ears.

“So about what you said before,” he continued, nipping at her sensitive skin with so much fervency, enough to leave purple bruises by the morning. “About me being dominatingly sexy. Is that the kind of thing you’re into?”

She shivered, looking like she wanted to escape his touch. “I—I don’t—” she stammered, having the hardest time finding her words especially when he had one of his eyebrows raised tauntingly. “Stop teasing me.”

“Guess being friends for seventeen years doesn’t really mean you know everything.” He chuckled, sliding down his hand between her thighs but stopping before he got too close, asking for permission. “Can I touch you here?”

She bit her lip, nodding slowly.

“Can we… have sex again?”

“Stop asking questions, and just do it.”

Their second time was much slower, more playful with a lot of teasing and exploring and it was the kind of sex that felt more like them, reminding them of how carefree they were back in their childhoods days, or the flirty banter they shared during their small escapes every summer. It took them hours to be satisfied with one another, at least until the next day started, that by the time they were finished, it was already nighttime. But even after they were dressed back in their previous clothes, they still found their way back in each other’s arms.

“I wasn’t sure to ask about this before but,” Donghyuck snuggled closer from behind, his lips almost brushing against her nape when he spoke in both curiosity and uncertainty. “How are things with Mark?”

“It’s so like you to ask about stuff that mattered after you got what you want,” she responded, making him pout and cower behind her. “We’re still going strong, actually. He said he’d ask me to marry him after we both graduated from college.”

He froze, literally stopped breathing. “What?”

“I’m kidding.” She turned around, tapping his cheek. “You’re cute.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry.” And when she laughed, he pouted even harder. “Well, truth is, we broke up over a month ago.”

“What—” Shock filling his eyes. He thought he had known everything about her from seeing her memories in his dreams but maybe he hadn’t seen anything yet. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t aware we were on speaking terms what with you avoiding my calls and ignoring my texts.”

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” He sighed, playfully biting her at the part where her neck met her shoulder. “Why did you break up with him anyway? I thought soulmates were meant to be together, not that I’m complaining though.” He couldn’t help but display his cheeky grin. “I’m actually happy—it’s the happiest moment in my life, dare I say.”

She scoffed, shifting on the bed again so she wouldn’t have to face his annoying grin. “It certainly not the happiest moment in my life but as long as you’re happy, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, come here.” Donghyuck sneaked his hands around her body, hauling her toward him until he could press his chest tightly against her back, burying his nose in her hair. “So, what happened?”

“Well…” She huffed, leaning against him. “Mark and I… We’re so similar in a lot of ways and I find myself more compatible with him than anyone, which feels kinda weird, if I’m being honest. Like, we share the same thoughts, we make the same decisions, we listen to the same music, love the same movies and everything. Unlike when I’m with you—” she stopped when she felt his arms tightening around her. “Wait, before you start fuming, listen to me first.” He sighed but nodded his head twice before he landed his face on her hair again. “What I meant was when I’m with you, we argue, we tease each other, we fight over stupid little things so we can look back on it in the future and have a good laugh from realizing how dumb we were being. And that’s what makes it exciting for me. You make me laugh, you make me upset, and when you suddenly disappeared from my life it was like…” she tried, but whether she was too shy or too confused to say the words, Donghyuck wasn’t sure so he helped.

“Like a part of you was missing?” He offered with a smile, nuzzling closer to her.

“Well, I don’t want to sound that cheesy but for the lack of better words, yes,” she admitted. “I just really couldn’t stop thinking about you. I missed you in the way I’ve never missed anyone before, like I kept seeing you anywhere I go. Whenever a Michael Jackson song came up in my playlist, I thought of you. Whenever I saw a movie, I remembered how you would always scrunch your nose in protest when something didn’t make sense. And I felt awful every time because I wasn’t supposed to think about you at all. I was supposed to think about Mark, and how he always tried to make me feel comfortable in his arms, kept asking me whether the room temperature was too cold or too hot, whether I needed another cup of coffee or—”

“He actually sounds pretty nice,” he murmured against her skin. “I’d date him if I were you.”

“Exactly, he’s too perfect.” She turned around, placing both hands on his shoulders. “He’s too perfect, Haechannie. That’s my problem.”

Haechan snorted but he also seemed amused. “This is why boys have problems trying to understand girls.”

“Doesn’t it make sense, though? You have so many flaws—like, so many. You have more flaws in you than your strengths.”

He flatly stared back. “Thanks.”

“But that’s what makes you interesting.” She reached out a hand, playing with the waves of his hair. “That’s what makes you adorable.” When she noticed him turning slightly red on his cheeks, she chuckled awkwardly. “Or maybe I’m just a freak who has a kink for annoying brats, I don’t know.”

Donghyuck smiled softly in return, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles on the skin below her eye. “Well then, I’m glad you have a kink for annoying brats like me.” And when they kissed, he could feel her grinning against his lips so he tore himself away, frowning. “What?”

“I didn’t realize you were this sappy and clingy.” She giggled, pecking his nose. “You really love kissing, don’t you?”

“I love kissing you,” he corrected, slightly wincing at the thought of the previous kisses he’d shared with his former girlfriends. “There’s a difference. And I’m not sappy, I am full with affection.” She teased him with a loud, exaggerated yawn but he ignored her, focusing on the things that hadn’t been spoken. “So, you broke up with him because he was too nice? How did you even tell that to him?”

“No.” Her tone suddenly became heavy. “We broke up because he no longer had faith in me. It was not long after he read my journal.”

“What journal?”

“Okay, now, don’t laugh, but I’ve been keeping a journal lately to help me think and…” He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell she was flushed. “Well, figure things out. So I wrote a lot of things about you, about us, about how I truly felt about you but couldn’t be with you because of the things we’ve been through. And the fact that I’ve been dreaming about you—”

“What?” His breath hitched in his throat. “Like a soulmate dream or just your regular wet dream about me?”

It was vexing the way he sounded so serious when he asked her the most insensitive question at times like this. “It felt similar to how I dreamt about Mark which is weird because how can that be? What does that even mean? I can’t have two soulmates at once, can I?”

Donghyuck contemplated in silence, unsure of his thoughts but eventually made his decision. “Okay,” he shifted his weight, now sitting on the bed, and gesturing for her to meet his eyes. “I have a secret I’ve been wanting to tell you but since we weren’t on speaking terms—”

“Thanks to you—”

“—yeah, thanks to me. I decided to keep it a secret. And I realized that I didn’t want to tell you that because I wanted you to figure out by yourself that you have feelings for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been having dreams about you too.” He unconsciously reached out for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I saw your memories. I knew that they weren’t mine because I’ve dreamt about the time you spent with Jaemin and Mark, but I didn’t say anything because I want you to fall for me for who I am, not because I have connections to your dreams or because it turns out I’m your soulmate.”

She gaped in disbelief. “How long have you been dreaming about me?”

His voice grew quiet. “Since that night when we kissed.”

Her mouth was shaping into a silent ‘o’ but no words came out. She was deep in her thoughts and Donghyuck had to squeeze her hand to bring her out of her reverie. “Noona?”

“So it wasn’t just because of the kiss, was it? That morning when you were acting weird, asking me about my feelings?”

He nodded reluctantly. “I thought you were experiencing the same thing, but then you told me you had another dream about Mark, and not soon after, I saw him with my own eyes.”

Something befell on her face, eyes wide in realization. “So, it was true—what I saw in my dream. You’d met Mark way before I did but you never told me about him—you even told him to stay away—”

“Yes, but—” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I know that was a total dick move, but—”

“You had no right, Hyuck.”

The way she called him by his real name made him freeze for a split second. “You’re… really upset about this, aren’t you?”

She tried not to scowl at him harder than she already did. With a sigh, she massaged her temple. “Well, I guess I should’ve seen that coming. You’ve always been acting like that anyway. You and your possessive, competitive ass.”

“But,” he said, smiling bashfully. “Will you love me and my possessive, competitive ass for the rest of your life?”

“One step at a time, Haechannie.” She pressed her palm against his face, wiping his annoying smirk away. “One step at a time.”

***

Unbeknownst to them, it turned out that being in an intimate relationship didn’t really change the way they behave around each other. They still fought over the little things but always agreed on the things that mattered. They shared loving words as much as they had done numerous times in the past, only this time they shared them between lustful gasps and lascivious groans.

Their long-distance relationship was hard during their years in college as they went to different campuses in different cities, but only because they couldn’t feel each other’s lips and breaths on their skins, so every time a long holiday came up, they would spend it somewhere where they could be alone, tangled in each other’s arms, moaning terms of endearments laced with desperation and urgency against the sheets.

It was funny how they kept having dreams about each other’s memories, even after they admitted their feelings out loud. Every morning whenever they were apart, they would send text messages, describing the memories they saw in their dreams, that it became some kind of a new habit for them. It was harmless most of the time, but Donghyuck became unreasonably jealous more often than not, whenever he saw Jaemin or Mark in her memories. He would spout out hateful words, calling their names with degradation, and she would sigh and wave him off, being the mature one in the relationship.

She had a theory about why he was dreaming about her, and why did her dreams change from Mark’s memories into his. She said it had something to do with their feelings, that if they loved someone so dearly, their dreams began to change from seeing the soulmate they were originally matched with, to the person they truly loved. And if the feelings were mutual, they would begin to dream about each other. Donghyuck didn’t pay too much attention to it, because it didn’t matter to him. Soulmates or not, dreams or no dream, he’d still love her with all his heart.

They kept their relationship a secret because they knew how their parents believed in soulmates and didn’t want to make them worry. But whenever they had sleepovers in his house, leaving their bedroom door open as instructed, keeping secrets became torture because Donghyuck always found a way to pepper playful kisses on her cheek. And playful kisses always turned perilous when they fell on her lips, and once the tip of their tongues met in curiosity, just wanted to get a glimpse of each other’s taste, there would be no turning back.

So they exchanged deep kisses and sinful strokes under the duvet, closing their eyes shut and pretending to sleep whenever rustling sounds or footsteps could be heard from the other side of their slightly ajar door. Donghyuck would whine something about, “Noona, I can’t do this. I can’t come like this,” even though he grew hotter and larger in her hand, and she would raise a teasing eyebrow with a smirk painting her face. She would then sneak under the sheet, crawl down his body, and blow hot breath against his tip, before engulfing him completely. And Donghyuck would bite into his fist, eyebrows furrowing in ecstasy, eyes shut closed as he imagined the way she would hollow her cheeks around him, with her tongue running along his veins and he would come undone in seconds. “Already?” She would ask with a teasing grin, wiping her tainted mouth with the back of her hand. “I must be super good at this.”

Donghyuck would let her win, just for the night. He could always pay her back the next day, he figured, when his parents were still deep in slumber, and the sun was still hiding somewhere out of sight. He knew how much she loved seeing him between her legs, with his eyes half-lidded and his lips sucking bruises on the inner parts of her thighs. And he loved seeing her face contorted in pleasure every time he brought her tongue deep inside her, remembering her taste better than anything he had ever tasted. Whenever her body started to shake, hands tangling desperately against his locks, her legs closing in on him, he would lick everything that seeped out of her, glance up to meet her eyes, and lick his lower lip in satisfaction before he said, “Already? I must be super good at this.”

“You know,” she sighed one day when she curled against his chest in a hotel room that smelled like cinnamon mixed with sandalwood. “I’ll probably end up getting pregnant with Hyuck Jr from how often we have sex.”

“I don’t mind.” He laced their fingers together, tracing his tongue on the side of her neck before he marked her with his teeth. “Hyuck Jr sounds hella cool.”

“Of course, you don’t mind. You say that to get more sex.” She wiggled away, shoving him gently by the jaw. “Stop that, I have work today.” And as much as he wanted to ignore her, painting more of his signature down her body so everyone would know who owned her, he stopped with a pout because she could really be terrifying when she got angry.

“Noona~ Come back to bed,” he whined, as he watched her stepped down the bed, getting dressed. “I need you to love me again. I’m needy.”

“You are gross, and I am late. Where the hell is my bra?”

Donghyuck grinned in amusement, watching her running from one corner to another only in her panties. “Man, have I told you how much I love your boobs?”

“Stop staring and help me find my clothes!”

She soon collected every piece of her clothing back without his help as he just kept lazing around on the bed, giggling every time she tripped over something.

“Noona.”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever thought about being this intimate with me back then?” Donghyuck flipped over to his stomach, crossing his arms idly on top of his pillow before he dipped his chin between them. “Before we got together. Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

Her cheeks were flushed. “W-what kind of question is—”

“I need to know whether you were as crazy as I was about you.” His smile was both teasing and gentle. “Please?”

“Fine.” She eventually succumbed with a sigh. “Remember back then when you said you were going on a date with that girl you’d been seeing for two weeks? Not sure why, but when I thought about you kissing her, I was also thinking about you kissing me.”

“You did?” He gaped, mouth wide open. “Way back then? And you still went out with those douchebags instead of being with me?” He protested, sinking his face in his pillow as he muffled his whine. “Noonaaaa~”

“It was just a fleeting thought! It wasn’t anything that serious.” She put on her stockings, having the hardest time focusing from all the embarrassment she had to endure. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, now that I know you’ve been thinking about me that way for quite some time, what kind of things did you imagine us doing?” And when he didn’t answer right away, lost for words, she added with a sly smirk. “Don’t tell me you jacked off while thinking about me.”

He was good at controlling his expressions, but his ears betrayed him right away from how red they were turning. “No comment,” he muttered, sinking half of his face into his pillow.

She rolled her eyes, snorting. “Well, that’s fair.”

“What about the future? Have you ever thought about our future together?” The sudden question made her gaze back at him. “What do you see happening to us in ten years?”

She was fiddling with the buttons of her blouse, but her mind drifted somewhere else. She had thought about it. Thought about growing old with him. Thought about them getting married, have a child—or maybe three. Thought about how nervous and panicky he would get when her water broke, and how whiny he would be whenever she asked him to do house chores but ended up doing everything perfectly. She had thought about how cute he’d look as a father, telling a little boy—who looked exactly like him—during his first try at riding a bicycle that it’s okay to cry if it hurts when you fall because daddy is going to hug you and make the pain go away, okay?

She had thought about it, more often than not, but he had just graduated from college and she was in her first year working as an intern in a high-tech company. They still had a lot of things going on in their lives. Maybe he wasn’t ready to settle down yet. Maybe he needed time.

“Babe?” He called. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“You want an honest answer?”

“Yes, please.”

“I see you growing bald from all of those hair products you use.”

“Why you little—”

***

“What’s this?” She questioned as he slid a little black box with a red bow wrapped around it—a spitting image of the gift she had presented to him a few years back—into her hand. She remembered the joke he made that night, so she mirrored his action, faking a gasp while squealing, “No way, you’re proposing to me? But honey, I’m already carrying your child!”

He laughed, a bit bashful and awkward, but he understood her joke. “But wait, if you’re seriously carrying my child, I will hate you for the rest of my life for breaking the news like this.”

“I’m not, calm down.” She chuckled, and they walked next to each other again, enjoying how peaceful the Han River was at night, with cherry blossoms petals dancing in the wind.

“Are you cold?” He asked though she was already wearing multi-layered clothes.

“What, are you gonna wrap your coat around me?”

“Nah, just asking. I’m more sensitive to cold than you anyway.”

“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes before she focused back on the tiny present. “What is this for? Our anniversary is still a month away.”

“Just shut up and open it.” He sniffed from the cold, tucking his hands deeper inside his coat. “And hurry up. I’m freezing. I need you to warm me up.”

“I swear to God, can’t you at least be romantic for five minutes?”

“Okay, five minutes. After that, we’ll run back home and have hot, dirty sex.”

She scowled at him which he returned wholeheartedly with a playful kiss on her cheek. She opened the box and smiled when she saw a similar oval locket necklace that matched the one he wore around his neck. “You’re so predictable,” she sneered, taking the necklace in her hand. “But I love it.”

“You haven’t seen what’s inside.” He whispered close in her ear. “I’ll give you a little spoiler. It’s not a picture of us taking a bath together when we were kids but it’s something similar.”

“Ah, I get it. Is it the time when we—” But her sentence ended abruptly in silence at the sight of the words that were engraved on the silver plate.

Will you marry me?

“Haechannie—” And as she turned around to face him, he already had one knee on the ground, taking her hand in his and she could feel shivers running through his fingertips. The soft glow of the streetlight illuminated his face most beautifully, with his bangs fluttering softly under the wind. His chocolate brown eyes were so gentle, so loving, so shy, matching the way his cheeks were reddening with more seconds passing by. When he pronounced her name, it felt like he was casting spells on her, bewitching her with his smile, his voice, his scent, his everything.

“Okay, so I’ve written a whole speech—like, a whole speech,” he repeated, emphasizing with a deeper voice. “And it would probably take me a good half an hour to recite it to you and I don’t think either of us wants to stand here for even a minute longer, so if you can just say yes now, I’ll do the speech later when we’re warm and cozy and naked in our bed.”

She was prepared to cry in joy but she ended up crying from the hilarity of it all. “What the hell was that? Haechannie—”

“I’m serious, Noona, a whole speech!” His teeth were beginning to chatter. “Trust me! Can you just accept my stupid proposal now so we can go home?”

“What is this, a blackmail?”

“Noona~”

She hauled him up to his feet again with both hands. “Well then, let’s go home,” she said, sinking their intertwined hands in her coat’s pocket before she tugged him forward. “If you amaze me with that whole speech of yours, then I’ll say yes.”

Donghyuck grinned. “You got it.”

He kept his promise from the beginning to the end. As they stepped into the little apartment they had been sharing in secret for the last few months, Donghyuck had her pressed against the wall, kicking the front door closed with one foot, before he moved it to slide his knee between her thighs, giving her the friction she needed. Clothes were soon scattered on the floor as they walked and tripped their way to the bedroom, silently shouting gratitudes to the heater that kept the place warm while they were gone.

“So,” she breathed against his mouth, pressing her bare chest to his slightly colder one. “Your speech. Go.”

“In a minute,” he said, smirking as he gestured her to sit on the edge of the bed. When she followed, he kneeled in front of her, spread her legs apart, and licked his lower lip as he stared at her arousal. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes, saying, “I have my priorities and this. comes. first,” and he dipped his head low, hot tongue pressing against her most sensitive part, forcing her to chant his name like a prayer.

But when their feet were tangled around one another on the bed, her hands buried deep in his hair while he raked his fingernails down her spine, Donghyuck murmured the things she didn’t realize she needed to hear. He reminded her of the precious memories they had shared, of the feelings they had even back then when they were too young to understand love, of his promises to make her happy—to make her feel complete and infinite until the end of her days—and of his cute, little fantasies of how the future was going to be for the two of them and their future children.

And as he pounded into her, with hard, deep thrusts, hips moving faster and faster each time she moaned against his ear, driving him to the edge of his sanity, he demanded her to say her answer to his proposal. With pleasure clouding her mind, she could no longer think about any word other than yes.  

***

“It has a private pool and a jacuzzi, you’ll love it, babe, trust me,” Donghyuck said into his phone, grinning to himself every time he heard a giggle coming from the other line. “I know I said no surprises this time, but I made the reservation like a month ago so you can’t really blame me for it.”

He silently thanked the florist who handed him a bouquet of red roses before he exited the store and head back to his car. He placed the flowers on the passenger seat next to him, along with two little custom-made alpaca plushies wearing wedding attires, and a tiny white box with a pair of engagement rings inside.

“Look, we’re celebrating your birthday in that resort whether you like it or not,” he said, looking like he was about to burst into laughter in a matter of seconds from hearing her adorable complaints. “It’s not that expensive, I swear! And even if it is, I’m completely fine with using my three months' worth of salary to please my girlfriend.” There was a loud shouting on the other side of the line, and he chuckled, “I’m kidding, Noona. Look, I’m heading to your workplace. I’ll see you in half an hour, okay?” His gaze softened. “Me too. I love you too. Bye.”

When the line got disconnected, Donghyuck leaned against the back of his seat, huffing to the air, his heart banging loud against his chest. The first proposal was all fun and games, but this time, he was serious about it. He had prepared everything, dressed sharply in a black suit and a white buttoned-up shirt, and memorized his lines by heart from practicing it over a hundred times in front of his bathroom mirror a few hours ago. He had taken a day off to make sure everything went perfectly, but now as he seated behind the wheels, about to see her face and the bright, beautiful smile she always threw at him whenever he graced her with his presence, he became so nervous, so afraid of ruining his plan.

A text message arrived, interrupting his thoughts.

There’s a birthday gift on my desk under your name. My co-workers are getting jealous. Why are you so perfect?

And before he could reply, another one came by.

I love you, Haechannie.

All of his concerns began to dissipate from his chest. It would be okay if he ruined one thing or two while undergoing his plan. She would forgive him with a smile. She always did. She had always accepted him the way he was.

So he texted her back.

There’s no life without you, Noona.

And that was the truth. He had only truly lived because of her.

He placed his phone on the dashboard of his car, wore back his seatbelt, and started the engine. His thoughts were so full of her as much as his heart was, that a smile began to grow permanent on his face. Even as he began to drive, he still had the hardest time focusing on everything else but her.

It was until a truck passed at high speed, smashed his car from the side with a loud, thunderous bang, sending tremors of pain all over his body before his thoughts could process the details.

And suddenly, what was once vibrant with a spectrum of colors, his world turned monochromatic once again.

***

[vicious-vixxxen]

Could I request older, pro-hero Deku with a chubby male s/o who gets ridiculed because people don't think someone of his size is good enough for the Number One hero

((Ah I may have gotten a little too deep with this one, so apologies nonnie in advance for the angst. Topics like this relate a lot to me personally. So here ya go.))

Izuku Midoriya x Chubby!Male!Reader

“That’s...such /bullshit/,” You huffed, fist clenched into the folds of the magazine, before flicking it across the kitchen with a huff- tears already stinging at the corner of your eyes as it landed split open- your face plastered over the centerfold article. ‘Is #1 Pro Hero Deku’s Husband /TOO/ big?’ The article practically shouted up at you- big, bold red letters smeared over your face, hiding the smile you’d had that night. You’d managed to secure a spot at one of Izuku’s favorite restaurants- mostly by promising the owner you’d be in and out of there within half an hour- he wasn’t the type to fawn too heavily over Pro Hero work, so ‘Deku’ being your husband didn’t hold much weight with him. But you’d been excellent patrons of his since they’d opened, in your second year of high school together. So you managed with what seniority you held. And seeing as how Izuku had only been able to snag thirty minutes between patrols, it was the perfect opportunity to scarf down a quick bite, and chat in- what you thought had been- the privacy of one of the uppermost floors of the establishment. But of course, sleazy as they were, the paparazzi had found a way to catch the both of you eating. A little too fast, a little too messily, just to be able to enjoy the atmosphere together, and have ample room to chat with one another before Izuku had to get back to his patrols. Which was fine, for Pro Hero Deku- six foot seven inches tall, two hundred and ten pounds of pure, lean machine muscle. The epitome of health and wellness, and what it meant to be strong. Able. And then there was you. A little too soft around the sides, cheeks /too/ plump/. Stomach /too/ pudgy. Thighs /too/ thick. God, you looked like a pig, food smeared on your chin, a bowl between you and your husband. ‘I guess we know where his priorities really lie’ the magazine quoted, from some random asshole on the street no doubt. Jesus Christ. “Bunch of fucking assholes.” You were angry. Of course you were angry. Fists held over your eyes to keep the tears at bay. But you were sad too. So, so fucking sad that this shit kept happening. Izuku’s management tried and failed countless times to keep shit like this from spreading. But people loved a good slam piece, as much as they adored seeing Deku’s latest accomplishments splashed across every newspaper, and TV report. Sick fucks. Whatever. Water under the bridge, you told yourself. Throat feeling tight, eyes burning with unshed tears, as you took a few deep breaths, and headed back towards your bedroom. Turning out lights in the house as you went, before stripping and crawling into bed. Thoughts running a mile a minute, as you stared up at the ceiling in silence. The only real noise the quiet sound of a car or two passing the house every now and again. You couldn’t help the way your open palms slid against your chest. Pressing, and kneading at the soft, pillowy flesh of your sides, and stomach. Grimacing at yourself, you recalled how fit you used to be during your high school days. What a dynamic you and Izuku had. Fresh on the scene after high school, no one could compare to the two of you. Kiri and Katsuki came close, but never quite managed the spark you and Izuku had. Professionally speaking. But Izuku just kept climbing higher, and higher- your quirk was good, but limited in its capabilities, which meant a halt in your hero placement a year or two after graduation. But you did what you could. You helped people because you wanted to help people, ratings be damned. But the harder Izuku worked, the more help he needed managing the world that came with climbing to number one. So you patrolled less and less, in favor of working with his design team on costume upgrades. Merchandise. Izuku trusting you and Inko to work directly with his management team, as he knew you all shared a hive mind of sorts when it came to design, and marketing. Pro Hero life for Deku was saving people. Kissing babies, and countless interviews. It was grueling, and tiresome, and he needed a team behind him to take care of everything else. So that’s what you did. Long hours spent at home alone, working through the night on various Deku projects. Meant less patrols, less gym time. You had no need for those things when you were kept busy with Izuku’s team, and you did good work! Fuck, you did great work, and Izuku praised you nonstop. Sure you’d gained a little weight at first, but it looked good on you. At least you thought so. And so did Izuku, if the way he drooled all over the expanse of your thighs the first time you’d gotten a night alone in nearly a month was any indication.   But as time progressed, you cared a little less about your appearance each day. You took care of yourself, and you were far from unhealthy. But there was no denying you had filled out substantially. You didn’t care, and Izuku didn’t seem to care either...but the media sure did. Closing your eyes suddenly, you took a deep breath. Holding it in for several seconds, before letting it out shakily. Tears finally falling as you did so, and you rolled over to snuggle into Izuku’s side of the bed- face smushed into the other man’s pillow, to breath in the soft scent of his cologne. His musk. Drifting off to sleep sniffling, dreaming of the glory days the two of you held together. Izuku hadn’t planned on coming home tonight at all, it wasn’t in his schedule to. But when he’d taken five to break for a snack, he’d ran into Kirishima at the agency. Chatting quickly, recalling rather suddenly that it had been several days since he’d seen Y/N. Scratching at the nape of his neck awkwardly, hunched over slightly muttering excuses to himself. He may have been big, and strong, but to his friends, Midoriya still held fast to those traits that made him who he was. Even back at UA. One call to Bakugou from Kirishima later, and the two of them were taking Deku’s shift, sending him hurrying home- a smile as bright as the sun on his face as he charged up, and bolted from the agency as fast as he could. Fingers crossed that you weren’t asleep yet. His dreams were dashed, but not unpleasantly so, when he landed outside however, and found all the lights in the house were off. It was late, and he appreciated you getting your rest. Knowing all too well how often you’d stay awake working on things for him. Izuku’s heart overflowed with love for you when he recalled all you did for him. For the both of you. He couldn’t imagine being as cemented in the top spot, as capable of doing what he did, without you there. You and his mother were his whole world, keeping him afloat at even the hardest of times. He...he was nothing, without you. So knowing you were in bed, getting your rest, made him smile. A smile that was soon replaced with a recoiled snarl as he entered the house- beelining to the kitchen for a glass of water, wherein he found the magazine spread out, as though left for him on the kitchen floor. Another one. Another article attacking you. Shaming you. Making fun of you. The kitchen was alight with green sparks as Izuku picked up the magazine, sneering at it when it came clearly into focus, before promptly stomping over and throwing it into the trash. Chest heaving as he sat with the knowledge that you’d probably been worrying over this again all evening. While he was out. Combing the city for villains, while you were here, dealing with...god. Hero suit boots already at the front door, Deku removed his socks as he made his way back to your bedroom quietly- leaving them in the hall- a nasty habit of his he’d never been able to break. Letting himself into your room, his heart breaking at the site before him. He wasn’t sure how long you’d been crying, but it was long enough to leave the salty, humid scent of tears in the air as he entered. And there you were, huddled up with his pillows, breathing softly- face smeared with tears, their tracks glinting back at Izuku as he rounded the bed, and just stood there. Feeling so powerless. Too big. Normally he’d clean up first, but being sure he couldn’t wait one more second, let alone the twenty minutes it would take to shower, Midoriya acted quickly. Removing his Hero suit silently, left in nothing but a pair of fitted boxer briefs- before sliding into bed next to you. Pulling his pillow gently from your grasp, to settle behind his own head, before gathering you up and into his arms. Shifting you almost entirely onto his front, before you stirred. Izuku’s stopped breathing when your eyes fluttered open, and your nose wrinkled- wanting to smile as you noticed the heat beneath you, the strong scent of Izuku’s skin filling your senses. Glancing up at him, your sleep idled mind offered only one clear thought. ‘He’s home’. Try as you might, however, the pressure from earlier in the evening boiled over again- mixing with the overwhelming sense of love you felt at being able to see him. Feel him. Smell him. Just /be/ with him. Everything was still, and quiet, a pin drop could be heard. Until you hiccupped, once, twice, before choking on a sob as you pressed your face flush against Izuku’s chest, and cried. You cried, and cried, and cried. Trying to recall the last time you’d seen him, your sleep clouded mind coming up blank. All you could see was that stupid fucking picture in the magazine. Izuku held firm to you as you cried, eyes shut tight, tears threatening to spill right alongside yours. Old habits die hard, he thought idly. He didn’t shush you, or try and quiet you down. Offer words of encouragement, nor did he berate the magazines, or spew on about how much hell he was going to put them through for this. He simply held you, stroked your back, and kissed the top of your head over and over, as you covered his chest in tears. Finally settling down after a few minutes, and simply breathing together. Your ears pressed against Deku’s wet chest, listening to your husband's heartbeat. Allowing it to calm you. Arms finding their way under Izuku’s body, holding each other now. Tight, almost too much. But neither of you complained. “I love you,” Izuku finally whispered, though it was so full of sentiment- of meaning, almost harshly so, it caught you off guard. “I love you more than the world will ever know, or understand, and I’d drop off the face of the planet tomorrow, and leave them to fend for themselves, if it meant proving to you how wonderfully, beautifully, exquisitely perfect you are to me.” Fucking…”I wanted to /stop/ crying, you fucking jerk,” You laughed wetly, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks as you lifted a hand to swat at the side of Deku’s head- both of you snickering wetly now, as you began to card your fingers through his hair with the same hand. Snuggling impossibly deeper into the man’s chest, as his words rang in your ears. He meant it too, the voice in your head whispered. Your chest tight as you imagined him giving up all he’d ever worked for, just so you’d understand. You never held any doubt that he loved you. As you were, as you had been- however you’d be tomorrow, or the day after. But you struggled a lot, internally. You always had. It would be a struggle you’d live with till the day you died, you were sure of it. But even so, you reasoned, then and there, that if even then, you knew how deeply, and unequivocally Izuku cared for you- loved you. That thing’s would always be okay. No matter what. “I love you too,” you sighed back finally, clearing your throat, and closing your eyes as you felt yourself quickly drifting again. “So so much, ‘zuku.” Peppering Deku’s chest with kisses till you fell asleep, Izuku was sure if his heart swelled any more, it would burst. Waiting till you had fallen back asleep fully, he rolled the two of you over. Caging you into the mattress beneath him, and falling asleep that way. Guarding you even as the two of you slept. Keeping you safe from everyone, and everything.  Midoriya’s only other thought, besides you, before he slipped into unconsciousness, was to call into the agency the next day, because he wasn’t going to going in for a while. ((Really enjoyed writing this one, got me in my feels, and made me feel all warm, imagining Deku holding me at the end of a  long day, when I could care less about feeling good about myself. Thanks for the opportunity nonnie, hope you enjoy.))

[whump-town]

Stubborn

Everybody taking care of old Hotch because... I don't like it when old Hotch gets left to just die on his own :( don't ask why that's where I draw the line

No pairings

No warnings

In Jack’s second semester of his junior year, Hotch collapses again. He’s home this time, out in his garden under the glaring sun. The day had begun no different than any other. The birds on the powerline chirping and causing their disturbances, as eager for the day to begin as the school-aged children shouting in the street. He’d watched them from the sliding glass door facing the street, his tea warm in his hands. He’d waved at a few, the older ones who recognize him as a mystifying adult with stories to be unlocked. The younger children give him a face akin to a monster’s, his mystery horrifying in their already confusing enough lives.

It’s an hour before lunch. Two hours before Spencer shows up because it’s Thursday and he teaches a class on this side of town every Tuesday and Thursday at 2. One that he occasionally asks Hotch to attend -- as a guest lecturer, as a treat to his students, or just for the company.

He could call just about anyone.

Emily’s downtown, on her way back from a meeting with the Department of Justice. She’d be thrilled for an excuse to not go back to the office and spend an hour or two in his kitchen telling him about those pretentious assholes.

Garcia’s about ten minutes away, working at a nonprofit teaching “at-risk” kids how to code. Being the guiding hand she’d needed as a teenager so that they might not repeat the same mistakes she made. She was lucky, Hotch saved her but he’s not around to catch any more kids like her.

Morgan got hired by a family two streets over to fix up their house before they move in. He’s there now, tearing out rotting beams.

This collapse is not of the life-threatening kind. Not to Hotch at least. There’s no internal bleeding, no emergency surgeries. He doesn’t even need stitches but he’s on so many medications that thin his blood that it’s just on the safer side. From the hospital, he calls who he needs to. Reid first, he’ll worry when he gets to Hotch’s house and sees his truck gone. Then, Jack, it’s better to hear this sort of thing from him and not Emily in half an hour when she needs to yell at someone and who better than the son of the idiot she hates right now? Dave and Emily follow and he trusts them to carry the news the rest of the way. Rather, he simply doesn’t want to talk about it anymore and he’d rather Garcia and JJ and Morgan and everyone else just be mad at him than go on to have another conversation about how he’s feeling.

Fine. He just got light-headed. It was the heat and his perpetually low iron and probably his thin blood (the killer had been his blood pressure but they’re working on that). He just needs to get better about remembering to eat breakfast -- a larger breakfast than just tea and toast. Fainting, he assures Dave, happens. Jack’s seen it happen. The heat makes it worse, the summertime drains him. He’s come in from the garden and gotten weak in the knees plenty of times. He actually moved some chairs around the sliding glass door to the yard, prepared for this exact problem.

This over clarification does not help.

Made only the more complicated when he explains his head is fine. The fainting thing really isn’t a big deal, he just needs a ride home. He’d landed weirdly and pulled his back. He left with a new problem entirely, a torn ligament in his shoulder. That is a problem for a different day.

The surgery is set for the week just before Jack’s finals. Armed with a suitcase full of textbooks, his laptop, notes from this semester (and a few from last), and just enough clothes to recycle a few and still be fine, Jack shows up on his father’s doorstep. “I mean, the hospital isn’t exactly the library… but it’s not the worst place I’ve studied.” It’s far too late to send Jack back but Hotch is reluctant to let him stay. Even if he does prefer Jack be his ride rather than the likes of Penelope and that tiny green eye-sore of a car she drives or leave him to Reid and his defensive, jerky driving.

To the sound of “Aaron Hotchner November 2, 1971”, Jack settles down with his books. He tries to put himself in the right headspace for studying but it’s harder than he anticipated. The constant motion of the room unsettles him and he looks up several times to see his father’s reaction. To gauge the anxiety in his face, in the deep breathes that he pulls in through his nose. In how tight his fists are holding the sheets underneath him. It’s a simple surgery and they’ll be out of here in no time.

“Young” his heart had not handled the heavy sedatives and morphine well. Then again, those incidents are always hard to measure against a thing like this. Rushed into the ER with nine chest wounds and having nearly bled to death, it’s natural to conclude the stress of his depleted blood supply and his very recent trauma had caused his heart to stop on the table. That said trauma was the reason his heart had maintained to be a steady problem up until they released him. Again, when he was brought in with some of the worst internal bleedings the staff had ever seen. His heart had given them trouble too.

Jack is staring blankly at his flashcards when the doctor comes out.

Hotch had gone to Georgetown to be a lawyer like his father and his grandfather. Jack went to Georgetown to get an Art History degree. He was lead by something else. Not chasing some shadow, clutching at a lie he spoonfed himself. Jack didn’t live in anyone’s shadow, never felt the pressure to look and act a certain way. Was never beaten into submission or told to hold his tongue. Jack went to museums every Saturday with his father, preferred them to the aquariums and the zoo. Hotch held him close to the artwork, pushed his dense schedule around to go to new shows, and learned the names of pieces just to recite the knowledge back to Jack.

In his lap, Jack is memorizing pieces of art like his father had years ago for him. He’s stuck on The Anatomy Lesson, eyes glued to the details. The way colorless skin is held in forceps, peeled back to reveal angry red. He can feel the pinching teeth on his own skin, feels the heavy flow of hot blood spilling down over his arm.

“Hotchner?”

Jack flinches, caught completely off guard. He stands, flushing as he tucks his notecards into his textbook, and stands. “Ugh, yeah. That’s me.” He wipes his hands off on his pants, rubbing away the nervous sweat he’s built up.

The doctor recognizes him from earlier. He’d watched Jack and Hotch get out one last goodbye. Jack pulling up a nervous smile, dirty-blonde hair, and light eyes a complete contrast to Hotch’s ever-darkening features. Somehow more solemn, voice taken by the sedatives already working through his body. He hadn’t said a word, eyes vacantly following Jack’s movements but unaware.

Jack expects the same monologue he hears every time. The one that comes out so dry and perfect that they must practice it in front of the mirror, say it softly to themselves as they as they get ready each morning. He’s got it memorized himself -- the bits about recovering in post-op, make a full recovery, and whatever on the fly timeline they give for access back to the room.

“But he’s-- He’s okay? He’s--”

Jack feels impossibly childish. Five years old and Emily’s chilled fingers brushing his tears away, “baby, I know you miss your mommy. But you’re being so terribly mean to your daddy.” He had been, a terrible little monster squirming away from his father and refusing to eat anything. Throwing tantrums about nothing and everything. Screaming and crawling under his bed every chance he got. Pushing himself to the wall knowing he couldn’t be reached.

Now he can remember Hotch just sitting at the edge of the bed. There on the floor for hours. Sometimes he read, would pick up a book, and just start from wherever just to make it so his voice was reaching where he couldn’t. He slept there too, on the hard ground just to make sure Jack knew he was there. Slipped strawberry pop tarts on crazily designed animal plated under there, offered bites of his own food to the darkness under the bed. Sippy cups full of chocolate milk and juice.

He feels like a little boy again, getting news that he has no idea how to handle.

“He’s okay?” Jack stammers. “He’s going to be okay? I can see him?”

Hotch remembers those days under the bed too. Waking up in the middle of the night as Jack groggily curled close to him, still under the bed but crawling under his blanket. The ends of those awful sobs, Jack’s little chest jerking as he hiccuped. The force of his sorrow was too much for his little body. And Jack would fall into his lap, exhausted and needing comfort. His little fingers tracing the scars on Hotch’s face. How he whispered “thank you” and “please” from underneath the bed and how he’d pop his head out to say, “Daddy, I’m going to potty. I’ll be right back.”

Jack’s legally old enough to drink now and Hotch still sees that little boy. The three-year-old wiping his snot on Hotch’s dress shirt. The six-year-old holding his hand and reminding him to look both ways twice before crossing the street. The eight-year-old he left the hallway light on for, old enough now to think he needed to brave the night without a nightlight. So Hotch would offer to keep the hallway light on, not for Jack but for him because he doesn’t like the dark. The ten-year-old sheepishly offering him a father’s day gift he bought with saved allowance, a t-shirt he’s now worn the words off of. The fifteen-year-old curling up beside him on the couch, seeking his comfort but not sure how to ask anymore. The eighteen-year-old as tall as him talking his ear off while he tries to get dinner ready, sticking his fingers in the pan and sitting on the counter.

How did he grow up so fast?

He’s not a little boy anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time.

The creaking of a chair moves Hotch’s attention and he looks away from Jack. Away from the sight of his little boy curled up on a cot, drooling onto a pillow and notebook still open, a pen dangling from his fingers. He looks over and Emily’s sitting up, her reading glasses precariously sat on the tip of her nose. “Oh look,” she mumbles. She stretches out, groaning as her joints complain from being held in this miserable hospital chair for hours. “You’ve decided to join the land of the living.”

Hotch watches her fold the thin black frames of her glasses up, gently sits them down by his hand as she stands up. Jack had called her, even though he promised he wouldn’t worry anyone. Hotch didn’t want anyone else coming to the hospital over something so small and though Jack protested that their concern wouldn’t be because he was bothering them but because they love him. The very same reason he’d come home is that people gather after these sorts of things. They need reassurance that he’s alive and he’s just going to have to accept that. They compromised in the end, everyone could come to smother him in worry after he got home from the surgery.

But Jack was scared. He called the only person he could think to, the woman whose role in his life that was never really clear. She’d gotten on him about his grades, smacked the back of his head when he said something stupid, and always let him taste-test her wine at Thanksgiving dinner. Emily knew things that not even Jessica knew and she could be sterner than both Hotch and Jessica and also more relaxed, more understanding. She was always there for both of them, in the same capacity as Jessica and yet her own unique one. A friend Hotch trusted and loved and Jack could understand that. His friends always wanted to know if they were dating and he knew intuitively that the answer was no but he would hesitate to try and explain. But he didn’t understand the gravity that pulled them together, adults and their relationships far too complex to fit it into his simple understanding of love.

He did understand she was the only person to call.

“What’d he do this time?” she asked and knew she was playing the wrong role for the wrong Hotchner because no sooner than she could ask she had an armful of Jack. She sat with Jack for hours, let him get his fear out. Held him while he sobbed, felt pulled to the past. When it was Aaron on her shoulder, terrified he’d lose his son. Life has this very odd way of bringing everything full circle.

“I bet you’re hurting.” Emily moves to the table and pours water into the little paper Dixie cup left by the nurses. “Been right dramatic this afternoon,” she informs him, a dissatisfied matter-of-fact tone in play. “I know you find that to be particularly taxing.” She holds the cup for him, gentle despite her annoyance. She’s close enough to see the iodine on his skin. Dark orange swipes across his pale skin, the smell burns with its strength.

He pulls greedily from the cup, mouth impossibly dry. Stopped only by how little she poured, he sinks back heavily into the pillows behind him. His shoulder hot and angry from forcing himself upright.

“They’re going to let you go in the morning,” she says, sitting back down. He won’t remember this in the morning. Emily holding his hand, whispering thickly how angry she is with him as tears fall down her face. How scared she was getting that phone call from Jack, racing down here to be a composed person to comfort his son thinking her best friend was in the morgue.

He’ll wake up with a pit in his stomach, residual feelings from the night before he can’t tie down to memories. Emily shows no inclination to repeat herself, just coldly informs him that she’ll have Penelope make him a cardiologist appointment (it’s unspoken that no one trusts him to do this himself). Jack walks on glass, close by but terrified of being pushed away. Hotch is too out of it to put up much of a fight, by the time the morning shift has their hands on him he’s silent. Properly dosed up for a ride home and out of his mind.

He’s groggily propped up on pillows, watching Jack and Emily fight over if he has the right to wear shoes or not. Emily wants to hold them captive, he won’t run off or refuse the wheelchair without them and Jack shakes his head, “he’s not our P.O.W, Emily. He’s even going to get that far if he does try to run.” He’s given his shoes but Emily makes a point to collect his cane, holds it while the nurse helps him into the wheelchair. He’s a flight-risk and she’s not going to trust him, he’s run off on her too many times for that.

At the house the other’s have gathered up, having nothing better to do evidently on a Wednesday at ten in the morning. Penelope’s frying eggs and bacon, the carnage it takes to feed their brood spread out on his kitchen counter. Reid sitting on the counter, Hank in his lap, and the two of them watching Penelope. Derek’s on the sofa, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and Savannah learning on his shoulder. Dave’s getting orange juice from the store declared them all lawless, and didn’t trust them to get the right kind.

Hotch is granted his cane to get back inside the house but Emily threatens to kick it out from underneath if he tries anything fast. He smacks her ankle and Jack has to actually step between them to keep them apart. It’s in times like these where Jack finds himself wondering how these two ever had any role in raising him at all.

“Don’t you have jobs?” Hotch asks, hooking his cane over the coat rack and toeing his shoes off. He ignores the hand Emily places on his arm, afraid he’ll knock himself over. He manages just fine, has the whole house set up so that every other step is within arms distance of something to lean on. Fingers trailing the back of the couch he limps past Derek, smiling when Savannah offers a soft “glad you’re okay”. She pats his hand and he nods back.

“Up for some food, sir?” Penelope asks and she’s not taking no for an answer. They might be having heaping servings of eggs and bacon and gravy and orange juice but she’s made two small bowls of oatmeal. She takes the medicine Jack tosses up on the counter, puts it at the end where the rest of his medication sits. “I cut up apples,” she tells Hotch with a wide grin, sliding the bowl in front of him. “Dashed a little cinnamon and sugar in there, it’ll stick to your bones. Keep you healthy.”

He’s at a healthy weight at the moment, not as thin as he leans to when he’s sick but with Hotch, it’s always a good thing to have some collateral weight for the “in case”. Lifting the spoon in his left hand he scoops some of the oatmeal up, doing his best to hide his annoyance at how weak his extremities still are. How his hand shakes under the light strain of the oatmeal. He looks up, watches Spencer carry Hank over to the highchair sitting at the table beside him. He’s distracted so Emily swoops in, takes his spoon from his hand, and tries his oatmeal. He lets her do it. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs. She likes it. He nods, it’s pretty good.

Hank immediately knocks his spoon on the ground and makes a low whining sound in the back of his throat. “Hop help,” he whines, pointing down at his spoon. His speech is still developing so he pronounces help and hop nearly identically but Hotch understands the difference. He just can’t bend over like that. His right arm is still pinned to his chest in an intricate web of gauze and this sling.

“Reid,” Hotch calls. His voice is deep, strained from intubation and anesthesia. It makes him sound sick. “He’s dropped his spoon.”

Reid nods, he already knows.

Hank points to his shoulder and frowns, “Hop fall down?”

Hotch nods, that is pretty much what happened and at the same time, Emily sweeps in and tickles Hank. She presses kisses to his face and making him laugh loudly. “That’s what happens,” she says. “Hops is just old.” Hank is too distracted by the ongoing attack to defend Hotch not that a toddler rising to his defense is very helpful.

Hotch sighs as Jack comes up behind him, stealing his spoon too. He takes a bite of the oatmeal and deems it nearly as good as the kind that Jessica makes. Hotch wants to be annoyed by it and yet all he does is nod and finds himself smirking just a little.

Penelope calls everyone in for breakfast and Hotch ignores the kisses pressed to his cheek as people drag chairs to the table around him. To the hands that slide over his back, assurance of life he remembers Jack calling it.

Derek slides him a mug of tea, made exactly how he likes it. He sits across from Hotch, close to Hank in case either needs assistance. Emily sits to his left, slides her coffee up beside his tea so he can have some if he’s quick about it. Jack sits beside her and the rest is a blur, too much motion at once for him to take in without his contacts or glasses. Penelope slides a tea plate to him, his medicine on it, and kisses his head while he’s still scowling at the plate.

They don’t leave him alone all day.

He ends up taking a nap with Hank, the toddler’s sticky little fingers holding onto his shirt as he finds himself unable to fight off the effects of the medicine and his full stomach.

He’s squished on the couch between Derek and Dave, forced to watch baseball because he can’t worm his way upright again just yet.

They change the dressings on his shoulder, his teeth clenched tightly so that he doesn’t let anything slip.

At midnight he wakes up on the couch. Jack’s bedroom door is shut, he’s sleeping peacefully inside. His heating blanket is pulled up to his chin, the heat turned up all the way. He can’t remember getting into this state himself but he has a fate memory of JJ helping him move his hand to his mouth, encouraging him to take the pain killers before bed. Of Derek making sure he didn’t just fall straight over onto his side. He manages to find Dave stretched out on the Lazyboy -- the chair he got Hotch for his fifty-something birthday. He’ll wake up in the morning to more food being made in his lonely kitchen, JJ this time. She’ll make blueberry waffles.

If he’d wanted attention, Emily will tease the next morning, he could have just asked. And he didn’t even know he wanted this. He never finds the words to ask for it to continue but every Saturday morning it happens anyway -- his kitchen and living room full of pajamas and suits in varying degrees depending on who has what to do that morning. The fainting thing is not cool but he considers this to be a good trade.

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

A Little Closer

[Raphael x fem reader]

sfw, apocalypse AU, 2012

The city that never sleeps.

They jinxed it, you thought as you dragged yourself along the street, Raphael at your side. The city wasn't only sleeping—it was dead.

You and him were alone, trying to get back in touch with everyone after getting split up. The team had been separated by unfortunate circumstances, nothing short of Murphy's Law. If you hadn't believed in the law before, you did, now.

But Raph could and would plow through a horde for you. He had to; he was your friend, the protector, at the moment. Because while you were able to handle yourself to some degree, ultimately, Raph was the one defending the both of you. And not even because you told him to. He took the role up himself, assumed it silently and never complained. You couldn't quite tell if it was because he felt obligated, or if it really was just his nature.

"You see that building up ahead? The tall one." He pointed toward a particular rooftop rising high among the ones around, and you nod. An infected ambled around in an adjacent alleyway. You glanced over at it anxiously, while Raph seemed completely unbothered. He was focused mentally planning their route. "That's our checkpoint. From there, we'll rest and see if we can regroup with the rest of the team."

The infected, a slower, pustule-covered form, started coming toward the two of you, stumbling out with quiet gurgles. "Raph," you said softly, with a tap on his hard shoulder. He glanced back at you before pulling out his sai, running at the infected and quickly dispatching it by a stab right in the eye socket. He avoided the sickly green caps.The creature fell heavily, and some of the pustules popped on the pavement, squeezing out a foul-smelling concoction of mutagen and infector cells. It amazed you every time just how fast he could get it done, the killing. And without fear—a few infected were more of an inconvenience to him than anything. He got in and got out, all the while you were left in awe at his ability to work on autopilot.

"Actually," he muttered, stepping around the body and into the alleyway the Infector had just come from. He noticed the fire escape and decided they'd take it from there on the rooftops. "I think we can get there from here. Feel like a little roof-running?" he asked you, throwing a subtle smile over.

Anything to get off the streets. Down there, it was bad. You had to look around every corner, watch your back even more carefully, and even then, straggling infected would still manage to slip under the radar. Though, luckily, Raph often was able to predict the movements of groups, which was what made you avoid the building horde making its way through the city. It was still a major scare to think you were clear and suddenly have a hunter-class infected jump out at you.

"Yeah," you answered him, following into the alleyway. "Yeah, let's do that. There are way too many Infectors down here." A shudder crawled up your spine to think about what the ooze those things carried could do to people.

He leaped up onto the railing, while you took the stairs. "It ain't the Infectors you have to worry about. It's the Hunters," he replied, pulling himself into the edge of the roof. You finished your ascent up the staircase as quietly as possible, and he met you at the top, grabbing your hand and helping you up the rest of the way. "But don't worry; I'll make sure none of 'em get you." You leaned forward and looked at him with a small smile, noting what he said. And that he still hadn't let go of your hand. "Or me," he added quickly as he released your hand and turned away to survey the series of buildings ahead.

You laughed, "Well, I'd be pretty screwed if I lost you, Raph. I kinda rely on you, y'know?"

Unknown to you, those last words would stick with him. For a long time.

"Yeah…" he trailed off. He didn't know how to respond to that. Of course, he'd been relied upon before; by Mikey, especially. He knew what that felt like. But protecting this girl? There was a new sense of pressure. Even Mikey could handle himself well enough alone. But there wasn't anything for you to fall back on, should he be out of the equation. No ninja training, not much knowledge of how to use a melee weapon aside from the basics, and guns were few and far between. Very far. A gang would trade you one, if you were lucky. Most people weren't lucky in that regard. Raph didn't want you anywhere near those thugs, anyway.

Between the two of you was nothing but the sound of the breeze. The city was almost dead silent, save for the occasional racket of survivors, or feral animals. Both were in low numbers; most of the city—the country—had been turned. The rate at which the infection spread was astonishing. Only here and there would a lonely human cause ruckus anywhere.

Raph cleared his throat, "We should get moving. Sun's going down and we need to hunker down for the night, the Hunters will be wakin' up soon."

"Sounds good," you said as you stretched your tight muscles out. Hours of almost nonstop walking and jogging could really work up some nasty knots.

You moved forward, him naturally taking the lead as you both made your ways across the roofs, him helping you along when you needed it, and you keeping watch for stragglers while you were at it. Sometimes, there would be other people up there. Other times, former people.

Coming up to a run down building, Raph made the last jump across, expecting you to be able to handle it. But you were hesitant, your body worn and weary from days of over exertion, and today was the straw that broke the camel's back. After all this time, you just couldn't muster the strength to clear the gap yourself.

Raph was about to go on ahead when he noticed you hadn't made it across yet, and he called out, "Y/N, what're you doing over there? Come on, this is our stop."

You wanted to do it, for the sake of his convenience, but it was too far. You could have over or underestimated and plummeted down into the alley below, gotten incapacitated, and became even more baggage. He watched as you backpedaled from the ledge. "I can't," you answered, slightly ashamed, "it's too far of a jump. I can't do it."

You watched as Raph easily bounded across, landing in front of you. "Here," he motioned for you to step in, and you did, where he then picked you right up into his arms and started backing further away. He'd lended you a helping hand before, a catch, sometimes, but never had he picked you up like this. "Wrap your arms around my neck, this is a little dodgy," he instructed you. He tried to ignore the fluttery feeling it gave him when you did what he'd said to do, wrapping your arms around his sturdy neck as he got ready to leap the gap. You were comfortable enough—Raph was strong. Really strong. But the threat of you both falling still have you anxiety, and for that, you had to clamp your eyes shut.

Without a word, he took off in a dash, one powerful leg launching the both of you off the edge. His arms tightened around you somehow more than they had been before. And for a brief second you felt wind. You still couldn't open your eyes, only focused on the feeling of almost absolute security in Raph's grip. Next was the hard landing, which jarred you out of your brief moment of warmth. He grunted, following through into a crouch and setting you down on your feet.

"You alright?" you asked him, concerned, placing a light hand on his shell.

He had a level of endurance that far exceeded the average person's, but even Raph was getting tired. He despised feeling weak, but his body was now actively working against him. He felt slow and heavy for his standards, running on fumes and secretly desperate for rest. As good of a sleep as he could get without worrying about being ambushed by something, be it human or otherwise. He knew he'd be back to the grind soon enough though because you needed sleep, too, and he would die before leaving you undefended in such a vulnerable state.

You realized then just now exhausted he was as he rose, taking in a deep breath. "I'm alright, let's just...clear the place and get in there," he said.

He approached the door into the stairwell and listened for a second before trying the knob. Locked. He was impatient to get in and finally be able to rest, so he just kicked the door in with everything he had, deciding to deal with anything that might be in there as they came. You grimaced; stairwells were awful places to fight anyone or anything.

Collecting yourself, you came over and peered in along with him. "Easy there, shouldn't we be quiet?" you questioned him in earnest.

He never intended to be rude to you, but his mood got the best of him, and he snapped back with a sigh, "Look, I'll get rid of them, okay? It's not like you're the one going in and killing them, so just stay out of the way and let me get it done."

You backed out of the doorway and shot him a look as if to say, are you serious? You knew Raph was prone to moodiness, but you'd never expected it to be targeted your way.

Shit. He slapped his hand onto the doorframe and leaned his forehead on it, groaning. Not even at you, but himself, because he'd just snapped at his only friend and ally out here at the moment. Seeing the flash of the look of hurt on your face at his words made him feel like a total asshole.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled after a minute of uncomfortable silence. He looked back at you, eyes falling on the sombreness of your expression. "I'm just tired. I'll be more careful here on out, if it makes you feel better. I know you're just trying to look out for us, trust me. I do."

"It's okay," you said softly. "Don't worry about it. Let's get in there now, yeah?" you nudged him, stepping in. You looked over the railing in search of anything suspicious. Oxidized blood, the hybrid mutagenic fluid that the Infectors secreted. No, it all appeared clean. But that didn't mean it was safe. Raph descended the stairs slowly, listening for anything he could pick up on. The two of you were surprised that it seemed clear, maybe even skeptical, but it didn't stop you as your paced picked up. Raph kept you behind him at all times with his sai out and ready.

"You think it's good?" you whisper, leaning your head over his shoulder. His eyes scanned the surroundings in the hallway you had just been lead into, still searching for any red flags.

There was nothing. No sounds, no signs of infected, and deathly quiet. The lack of noise disturbed Raph more than anything, but if it meant one night of peace, he'd take anything he could get.

"The residents must've abandoned this place when the evacs happened," you noted.

"Everyone should have stayed. Maybe then we would have had a chance of actually containing this thing and Donnie wouldn't have to be busting his ass to save us all. If that's even possible at this point."

He let his guard down a little. All he wanted to do was pick out any random apartment and take it over for the night. Trying the one on his left, the door slowly opened to reveal a messy studio, papers strewn about, cabinets still open, things discarded on the floor. He almost melted just seeing the couch, let alone a bed.

You were watching the hall just to make sure, but felt his calloused hand land on your forearm, pulling you in.

"Wow," you breathed out. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see such a mess. I feel like I haven't slept in three years," you muttered to yourself, shutting the door behind you.

Raph wandered around the room as he made his last checks behind the counters and such before he finally relaxed and slid his sais back into their holders. "No kidding," he commented. "I'd bet there's nothing to eat in here, though."

"Can't hurt to try."

Turned out that there wasn't anything but a couple of granola bars and a single bottle of water you'd found under the kitchen table. Probably rolled under there and the owner never noticed, but you were running low on your water supply, as your backpack was starting to feel light.

Raph kept the blinds closed tight in fear of being spotted from the window, even though it was practically a wasteland out there, but you couldn't help but part them a bit to catch a glimpse of the sun going down. That beautiful, warm glow that the Golden Hour produced, and the way it painted the sky. Though, it wasn't all that visible from where you were.

Sunset came and went and gave way to night. It was dark in the apartment; no electricity was being routed there, and so the only thing that lit up the area was the lone lantern you had sitting on the coffee table. Your eyelids were becoming so heavy that you couldn't stop to care if the furniture had bed bugs or other gross stuff. It was comfortable on your aching back, that's what mattered. You lay down on it and was already dozing off when Raph padded by. He stopped. You were so tired, he could see that. He could stand to stay up for a few more hours, he told himself—he would do that.

As you slept, he spent his time cleaning his weapons, adjusting his gear, snacking on what little the two of you shared. Also thinking. About how tired he was in that moment, his brothers (wherever they were), and finally...you. He found his gaze shifting from the knife in his lap that he'd been sharpening to you, sound asleep on the couch and for the first time in days, looking at peace. You had dark circles under your eyes, bumps and scrapes all over your body, yet for a little while, you'd forgotten all about it. Because you were asleep, obviously, but even though he was downright beat, he couldn't bring himself to disturb you. Not yet, at least. The clock on the wall was still ticking on. It was quiet, except for that—Raph couldn't complain. He softened watching you. There was something comforting to him about being able to drop the act and just observe you without having to talk. He wasn't always good at talking. He judged that perhaps you were only trying to fill the silence when you kept rambling or muttering, which was understandable. It made him wonder briefly if you felt awkward when he was quiet.

Raph was on his proverbial last leg in terms of his wakefulness when he heard your voice, the slightest call that was almost inaudible. He set his gear aside and shifted towards you where he sat on the coffee table, trying to figure out if you were only dreaming, or if you really needed something.

"You awake?" he whispered.

Arm dangling off the couch, you rested your face on your other hand. "Yeah," you answered through a dry throat. He remembered the bottle of water from earlier and reached into the backpack at his feet, handing it to you. He'd already drank over half of it.

"How long have you been laying there awake while I could have been getting some shut-eye?" he jested. You did your best to muster a smile, but it wasn't going. It wasn't like you to be so solemn.

He spoke again as you downed the rest of the water, "Uh...joking. Are you—"

"Can you hold me?"

You weren't looking at him. Your eyes were closed, and on the inside, you asked yourself why you'd said it. Maybe it was the mid-sleep grogginess, or you had just lost all care in the world. He was staring at you, but in the low light, you could hardly see his expression. He swallowed; oh, how this had taken him off guard.

"Just for a little bit."

He was going to stammer out something, he wasn't sure what, but anything to relieve the mix of awkward embarrassment he was feeling. He wanted to crawl into that couch with you, to feel the warmth of your body against his cold one—why couldn't he move? Why was it so hard to just say: "Yes, I can hold you."

He could fight. He could defend. What he couldn't do was comprehend his own emotions.

"I, uh…do you feel unsafe, or something?" He felt stupid to ask that, but that part of his mind wanted to rationalize your request. He would feel vulnerable in your shoes. He knew that for a fact. But really, he was aware that wasn't the case, you feeling unsafe; he was there. Your sentinel, willing to push himself as far as he possibly could, and then some.

A sigh left you, and the single word, "Please."

No more thinking. Just do.

He sat up, tentative in his approach to your tired form. You shifted back as far into the cushions of the couch that you could, offering him the space on the edge. He climbed down, and after a minute of trying to situate all of your limbs, he was finally comfortable. He would be lying to say his heart wasn't beating faster, that it didn't feel weird to drape his arm around you the way he did, being pressed against your back like that. Despite everything, it felt natural. Right. Like he'd been missing something that whole time, and as soon as he had pulled you into him, he had a revelation.

There were no words exchanged. Just the sound of the clock ticking and the both of your breaths as you were lulled back into sleep. He couldn't sleep yet. You still had an hour to go before it was his turn. Not that it bothered him. Not then; he wanted to be conscious for this, the feeling of fullness he had with how you seemed to fit against his body so well. The contrast of soft skin to his scales, his lean, solid muscles compared to your own less-developed. His fingers brushed along your wrist in some of the lightest touches he'd ever administered. His leg found its way over your own.

What started rigid and awkward now had melted him. His body hadn't felt that loose in a long time.

Whatever the next move was, he was fine with it. The team was close to finding each other after four days of separation. There was a horde forming outside, gathering up to blow through the city in one last sweep. But as long as they got where they needed to go, he didn't mind it at all.

a/n: i 100% did not feel like explaining how or why they got separated from the rest of the group just be along for the ride bby

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Canine (Revenant x Reader)

Part 2 of 2 of the chapter “Styptic & Canine”. [AO3 Link to full chapter]

Theme: Revenant introduces the reader to his makeshift family as he turns up the spice level, but an unfortunate run in with a creep ruins most of the day.

Warnings: Graphic content, physical male dominance, threats of violence, blood, descriptions of violence, sexual references, sexual harassment, sharp objects, pain, bipolar, depression, mentions of mania, general romantic fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: This post was too big. 18K words. This is part 2 of a larger chapter that is “Styptic & Canine”. I’m posting it in halves so Tumblr doesn’t die. Also, yes, this chapter is where I start raising the heat. My intent was to boil the frog, but Tumblr made me split right where I first turn on the gas stove.

Navigation: First Chapter | Previous Part (Styptic & Canine) | Next Chapter

You regain consciousness to a mild shake, his hands around each of your cheeks and his frame vaulted over your body in a sitting position.

"Oh dear, little skinsuit, what was that about?" His voice drips with some kind of sadistic humor.

"What was what about?" The morning light was shining through the skylight. He obviously let you sleep in a bit, for which you were grateful. You couldn't remember any dreams though, it was all blank.

"Don't play stupid, you must know." He's way too into this. "I want to know if it was me."

"I really don't remember. Why, what did I do?"

He lurches back in some kind of cruel delight, pulling his hands away to cup around his own face, accentuating his joy.

"Then maybe you'll know the answer to this: who is 'daddy'?"

Your face gets hot instantly, now you know why he's so interested. He has prime material to hold over your head for days. You have one potential way out and he isn't likely to buy it.

"I never met my father, so I'm not sure..." You try.

"Oh, I guessed as much. But this wasn't that kind of daddy." He places each of his hands on the sides of your waist, making you blush harder. "Your hips were absolutely reeling. I could hear how much you were loving it. You still smell like lust. So, I must know... who is the lucky one to have the title of 'daddy'?" Your face is burning. Your attempt to get out of this has definitely and utterly failed.

"I don't know! I've never even--" You cut yourself off, realizing that saying more is only playing into his game.

"Oh please, you must tell me." He leans over to whisper in your ear, curling over you in a seductive manner. "I'll keep it a secret, I promise. I just want to know who makes you writhe like that. Clearly I could learn something." This asshole. Your face actually hurts it's so hot. You can't get out of this, and you don't even have an answer for him. You've never even called anyone that before.

"Please, can I get up?" You beg, hoping it can just be over.

"Oh no, dear," You feel yourself screaming internally as he nuzzles his mask against the side of your face, "I can't let you do that. No, no... Not until you humor me." He presses his body into you, and you audibly whimper. "Call me daddy."

You're dead. You have to be dead. This can't be real. You can't humor him, but you have to humor him. Why is he like this? If you say it really fast, maybe it'll be okay. Maybe he'll accept it.

"Can I get up...?" You choke. "...daddy..." You didn't say it fast, but you said it with zero confidence, which hopefully dampens his power trip.

He throws himself off of you, laughing something fierce. His guffaw is loud, cruel, and pure delight. He's completely overtaken by it, laying back beside you, almost twitching in hilarity. He can't control himself as he lifts his hand as if to wipe away a tear.

He shuts down again, turning limp.

You jump out of bed, giving yourself distance from his metal sarcophagus, knowing whatever comes next might not be pleasant. You make your way to the computer desk, sitting on the office chair, waiting to see what he does this time.

His chassis begins to whirr and cracks into movement, his arms grabbing at air beside him as he tests every limb in violent bends and swings. The static begins in his voice, before suddenly slipping into something audible.

"You-you moved away." His empty optics seem to stare at you from a distance as he sits up. "I wanted to hold-hold you again..." His tone was soft, but his vocals were still skipping. "Shame, daddy will get you next-next time."

His eyes come back to life, and he's aware again.

"Well, just say how you really feel then, huh?" You jab back, waiting to see how he reacts. He chuckles a little, a mere echo of the laugh that forced him to restart.

"Well, I'll make it up to you. How do you feel about making a trip to meet my little family?"

"Family? I thought--"

"Oh, not like that, of course. Just the closest thing I have." He smiles smugly at you, seeing an opportunity. "You don't need to worry, no one competes with you."

Damn blush, you're going to turn red permanently if he doesn't stop.

He vaults out of bed, making his way over to you.

"I let you sleep in, thankfully what you're wearing is ideal for the job already." He offers his hand. When you take it, he hoists you to your feet. "It should help with any sad feelings too, how are those going by the way?"

"With how things have been going, I haven't had the chance to be depressed..." You're almost embarrassed that his plan to keep throwing you off your depression is working so well.

"Good, keep showering me with all your attention then." He squeezes your hand a bit before letting go. At this rate he could make you manic again if he keeps pushing it. You're just not sure if you should let him. "I've arranged a ride for us, since I don't think you can run this far."

"Oh, alright, sure. Do I need to do anything? I feel kinda like I should take a shower..." It's very strange that you're going someplace wearing dirty clothes with no shower.

"Trust me, you'd be better off doing that after."

• • • •

Revenant can't drive, apparently. To the point in which he's actually enough of a liability that he's not allowed to drive anywhere outside of the Apex Games. He wasn't very happy with the idea of having a chauffeur, but the legal team was able to convince him to accept being driven in exchange for a vehicle that separated him from the driver. That vehicle was a limo. A giant, stretch limo. A very luxurious limo. Versus you, who is a mess: dressed in a stained shirt you slept in and you haven't washed your hair. This is embarrassing.

"This dumb thing is almost ten yards long, and you have to be right up against me, don't you?" Revenant is sitting far in the back corner, and you've wedged yourself right between him and the corner, trying your best to hide yourself from any phantom that might see you.

"I'm in a limo and I look like I belong in a garbage truck." You duck away from the windows, shoving your face up against the black leather of his waist, careful to avoid the support pistons.

"Literally no one can see you except me." He scoffs, crossing his arms. "The windows are blacked out, the driver's privacy window is closed, and nobody is here but us." His eyes glare down at you, but he seems to be moderately entertained by your distress.

"I look homeless." You pause. "Again."

Revenant laughs at that, uncurling his arms to mess up your hair in some kind of adoring but condescending gesture.

"You're fine, trust me. Nobody is going to see you." He pauses from messing with your hair. "I have a stop coming up, just stay in here and I'll be back with some supplies."

"Be fast, I need to hide behind someone and you're the only one here." You're being intentionally dramatic, but if it makes him laugh it's worth it. He sighs equally as dramatically, clearly playing along.

The vehicle hovers to a stop, and Revenant wisps out the door, closing it behind him before you even get a sense for where you are. The windows really are blacked out, you can't see anything through them.

Now alone, you shrink into the back corner of the seats going around the vehicle. There's a television and what appears to be a loaded bar, multicolored LED lights lining the whole thing, and starlights in the ceiling. The seats are all made with beautiful leather and have a triangular pattern stitched in the surface. The floor has carpeted mats that feel a bit more plush than the average car. You consider rummaging through the bar, but you're not sure if anyone is going to charge you an arm and a leg for alcohol you can get cheaper anywhere else. You sigh and lean back, shrinking further in the seat.

The door on the opposite corner as you clicks open, and Revenant crawls in, dragging a massive green bag behind him, barely managing to get it in the car.

"Is that a body bag?!" You curl up in the fetal position on your seat, recoiling away from the door.

"Yes." He gruffly huffs as he drags the apparent bagged corpse into the limo, weighing the whole vehicle down. He gets it in the middle of the floor, then drops it with a thud and throws himself down beside you. With his weight, you feel like you nearly missed being crushed. His arm rests on your opposite shoulder and you shudder, giving him a concerned stare. "Oh shush, I paid for it."

"You what?" You whimper, completely at a loss of what you're experiencing.

"It'll be fine, I can't rightly show up without any offering." He shrugs his shoulders, pulling you closer. He seems to be very pleased with himself, smugly teasing you.

"Offering?! Is this a cult?!" You whisper aloud, not necessarily expecting an answer. He laughs again, enjoying your mental wheels spinning. The limo gets moving again, handling the extra weight very easily.

"Oh, no, that's for next time." He's obviously teasing now. "I'll make sure you're in a lovely white dress to soak in the blood of our sacrifices for that occasion." He shoves you up against his chassis, growling to rattle his torso against you. "Then, when we're all done, I'll make official my new nickname."

"Oh, fuck you." You let slip under your breath, causing him to guffaw openly again. He catches his synthetic breath, rubbing his mask in the same motion a human would.

"You've gotten so comfortable with me so quickly, what happened?" His question must be rhetorical, because he doesn't leave much of a pause for an answer. He jumps right back into teasing. "I'll have to tame you by any means necessary if you're going to keep being so temptingly coy." His hands cup around your waist and you crack a sigh, turning away from him, trying to focus on anything other than how red in the face you must be.

"Do you regularly flirt in front of fresh corpses?"

"Awww..." He grabs your chin and pulls your face back to meet his, bringing his visage down close enough to feel his breath. "Are you kink-shaming me? Or are you just being a prude little tease?" He pauses before snickering to himself, losing his flirtatious composure. "You're so red, you practically match me." His loss of composure is cute enough to get to you. You giggle a little.

The car comes to a gentle stop, and Revenant immediately gets to pulling the corpse out. The body bag is way larger than makes sense, it almost looks as if it could fit someone Revenant's size. Yet the body inside still seems way too big. You're not sure what it is, but you're a bit too afraid to ask at the same time. Revenant eventually gets the bag to the edge of the vehicle before throwing it over one of his shoulders, forcing his shoulder spikes to flip downward out of the way. He nearly topples over at the shifting weight, meaning whatever is in the bag is excessively heavy.

As you crawl out of the car after him, you smell the fresh air of being nowhere near civilization. You see lots of flat lands broken up by woods with a giant abandoned warehouse in front of you. The warehouse has holes rusted throughout its sides and the door is ajar, the hinges rusted so it no longer swings. The air is fresh, and you look around, unable to find signs of other humans close by. Revenant waves away the limo. It turns around, kicking up dust off the unpaved path before zooming off into the horizon. He waits until the limo is far enough before pulling you close.

"You have to listen to everything I say, understand?" He's dead serious. You nod, suddenly concerned over his change in tone. "Don't try to protect me, I'll be okay. Scream if and only if you feel pain." You search for any joking tone in his voice, but there is none. "But above all else, listen to me. Don't play stupid, just obey." He looks to you, demanding acknowledgement. You nod, determined and concerned at this new development.

He walks over to the door, making his way inside carefully as you follow. He throws the body bag on the concrete floor of the entryway, causing a morbid slapping sound as it hits the ground. Revenant kneels down and begins ripping the bag open. You take a moment to look around.

This whole warehouse is dark beyond belief. There seems to be different rooms, but the rusted-through holes in the wall allow you to get negligible peeks into nearby rooms. The roof has not decayed at all yet, but it means no light is entering the building, making the deeper rooms be cast in an oppressive darkness. From the outside this warehouse looked massive, this room must be only one of dozens. The silence is scary, there isn't a single sound of life apart from you and Revenant, but you know better. Silence means something doesn't want to be found, and is inevitably a sign of life. Silence only happens when a hunter has scared everything else into silence. You might have learned that from Bloodhound, but you can't be sure. Either way, it's anxiety-inducing.

Revenant stands tall, pulling the scraps of the bag away from a giant bisection of a carcass. It appears to be beef, in the same state butchers will sell to grocers or restaurants. It doesn't smell bad, but it definitely smells like raw meat. Revenant grabs you around the shoulder, pulling you into a very controlling embrace. He whistles, or something like it.

"C'mere puppies!" As soon as he says it, you hear the sound of many nails skittering around the concrete flooring, making their way to the room you're in. Revenant squeezes you close as the pack comes into sight.

"Revenant! Those are not dogs!" You can't help but whisper in shock as the pack stops in your line of sight, trying to get a read on whether you're a threat or not.

Prowlers are utterly terrifying predators. They can be described as something between a wild dog and a tiger with the hide of a dinosaur. Their quadrupedal forms stand tall enough to meet you eye-to-eye at the largest, but the females and younger prowlers come up to your waist or knees instead. This subspecies has a beautiful, peacock-like furl behind their ears that stand on end when they see you, making them look as kaleidoscopic as they are scary. Their fangs could make a saber tooth tiger swoon, and their colors remind you of the legendary Birds of Paradise. Their long tails flick back and forth in concern, trying to understand who you are or if they should fight you. The largest male growls so deeply that Revenant sounds like a kitten in comparison, and it approaches both of you ahead of the rest of the pack.

"Rev..." You start to step behind him. This creature could very easily kill you in a single bite to the neck, and he was already tall enough to reach it.

"Shush, listen to me." He whispers to you, using his grip around your back to shuffle you back in place and to his side, pulling you against him in an uncomfortable grip. "Hey Six, this is mine." He addresses the massive male prowler approaching you, almost presenting you to him.

You hold your breath as Six sniffs your face, neck, and chest, trying to figure out what you are and why you're here. The other prowlers begin to enter the room, not even paying attention to the food in preference of figuring out the newcomer. Six's tail begins to rise up, flicking the tip back and forth as he finds you acceptable as a guest. You receive a lick right on the face as a final assurance, and the other prowlers swarm you to meet you.

You grab onto Revenant like your life depends on it. All of these prowlers could kill you, probably even the young ones too. It doesn't matter if they're all flicking their tails happily, or panting with smiles and tongues out, or excitedly greeting you. They can kill you and you're painfully aware of it.

"Calm down, seriously. You were fine meeting me for the first time, but a bunch of little puppies scare you?" Revenant releases his hold on you, but you don't return the favor.

"These are not puppies!" You try to whisper at him, but he might not be able to hear you over the crowd you've attracted. He pushes down on your shoulders, causing you to lose your grip on him and fall into a sitting position. Now all the prowlers can meet you eye-to-eye or tower over you. You're inundated with licks, and no amount of guarding your face with your arms will save you.

"You'll be fine. They're my pack, and they'll respect what's mine." You can barely hear him over the assault of affection.

As the excitement begins to settle, some of the larger prowlers peter off to check out the meat, leaving the younger ones to look after you. A tiny pair of kits you didn't see before bound up to your lap and hop in, cuddling against your stomach. For such scary adults, the babies are unbearably cute. You're not sure if you can touch them or not, so you simply let them roll around in your lap, slapping at each other like the siblings they are. Six comes back to you, his maw covered in blood from the beef.

"I figured he'd notice." You hear Revenant mutter as Six inspects your arm and calf, licking at the puncture wounds a little. "I guess my hypocrisy was going to catch up eventually." Six carefully sniffs the skin before shooting a glare and deep growl at Revenant. "Don't move a muscle, no matter what." He instructs you.

Six lunges at Revenant's leg, catching the metal below the knee joint in his bite. Revenant buckles and hits the ground. You jump a little and whine to yourself, but you stay as reserved as you can otherwise. The kits notice and begin pawing at you, trying to understand your reaction. Six drags Revenant a few feet from you as Revenant makes stifled sounds reminiscent of excruciating pain. You want to step in, but you obey orders. You hear the moaning of the metal in his leg beginning to bend for a few moments, before Six releases him. Revenant sits up, grappling his leg before Six chomps the opposite arm near the shoulder, causing Revenant to try to reel away in shock and pain. Again, Six growls as the metal bends beneath his bite, Revenant taking the pain as best as he can. Six releases, gives a growling bark to Revenant, and returns to you to lick your wounds more.

"Oh, now aren't you just poetic." Revenant finally makes out between what sounds like heavy breaths. "You got me in the same places." He's cradling his calf and arm, in the exact same places and sides as you were hurt. "I knew I was going to pay for that, but you didn't have to be that literary about it."

Six turns to him and makes whining sounds that mimic human speech. You've heard of Siberian Huskies making these noises, but never prowlers. Either way, it sounds sassy, and Revenant seems to relax knowing he's back in good graces.

"Yes, I know I taught you the same lesson a long time ago, but still..." He talks to them like anyone would talk to their dog. "You didn't have to be that extra about it." Six flicks his head at him before returning to your wounds, the kits now back to play-fighting each other.

"So, yeah, these are my puppies." He finally addresses you again. Most of the other prowlers are now taking turns at the carcass, seemingly following a hierarchy. You want to correct him, but you don't. He's clearly going to keep insisting that they're puppies. "This is Six, he's the sixth alpha of a pack I've helped raise over the past few decades. Zero was the first prowler that accepted me, and One was his puppy--the first alpha."

Six retires from your wounds, taking the two kits from you to go eat with their mother.

"There's no way you can be depressed around these guys. If there's any creature more aware of the emotional state of other beings, I dare them to come forward. My pack is perfect." He genuinely sounds overjoyed that you're getting to meet them all, he seems very proud. "I even raised them to respect females... Even if that did bite me back today." He huffs a bit.

"So, wait, you've been raising prowlers out here for decades?" You finally make a sound, Six and a few others look over at you for a moment, surprised by your more relaxed voice.

"Yeah, although they're fairly independent. I'm more like an elder to them, rather than directly in their hierarchy. I bring them food, not that they need me to, and they come along with me when I need company or extra help." He scoots himself close to you, letting his damaged leg drag. You get a closer look and see that the metal is both punctured and buckled on both his arm and leg. "They've been a passion project of mine ever since I first met Zero. They make me feel a bit of humanity." That last sentence is spoken with a level of reverence. You let the silence fall for a moment.

"You know, this is probably a scientific breakthrough in some field that nobody has ever managed before. You have a wild pack of prowlers that accept you and the people you bring in." He seems surprised by your lavish praise. "This could change our understanding of prowlers forever."

"Well, it helps that I'm nigh unkillable," he knocks on his metal chest, making a banging sound, "and honestly you're allowed in because as far as they're concerned, you're my mate." He wraps his arm around you possessively as the kits crawl back into your lap, now well-fed and cuddly. "That's why they don't mind you around the little ones." He sees you eyeing them as they roll around, trying to get comfortable. He picks one up, holding it in his hands like it's a precious jewel. It yips at him for attention, so he scratches behind it's tiny furls with his spare hand. "I think this one will be Seven, unless the next litter has an even bigger boy."

His adoration for these predators is absolutely identical to how so many people feel about their pets. The choice to love prowlers is a bit unconventional, but he is very much a man stuck in a metal body--humanity intact--in these moments. You are growing increasingly fond of him, seeing something beautiful beyond the cruel simulacrum assassin you once knew. He catches you staring.

"Go ahead, pick her up." He gestures to the other kit in your lap, actually looking a little jealous of her brother. At first, you tremor at the thought of picking her up wrong, but a sudden wave of confidence comes from nowhere. You scoop her up in your arms, bringing her up to your chest and cradling her. She immediately begins to squirm with delight and lick at your hand as you rub her head and chin.

"Was that all instinct?" He pauses, and you tilt your head at him, confused by the question. "You were shaking, then suddenly you weren't. Is that what maternal instinct looks like?" You're a bit shocked he saw that much.

"I'm not sure. I'm not usually around babies of any kind." You confess, but now you suspect the same thing he does. The baby female prowler reaches for your face, barely managing to touch your chin before you lower your face to meet her. She reacts with tiny licks on your nose while you tickle her belly. Revenant is the one staring now.

Revenant places the baby male in your arms next to the female, allowing them to both vie for your coveted attention. Some of the females come over and snuggle up next to you, laying on and around you, while the males and Six lie next to Revenant. Revenant leans back, eventually resting his head on the flank of one of the larger males, while another rests its head on his shoulder.

"You should lie down, let the puppies run around." He instructs you, briefly pointing to the kits in your arms. "Your body isn't heavy enough to bother anyone, just lay on whoever seems the most comfortable."

You look around, seeing a lot of intimidating warm bodies around you, so you cheat and carefully lay under Revenant's arm. You hear him audibly sigh, bothered that you're still worried but unable to chide you. The kits use you to crawl up on Revenant and slide down his metal torso to the other side, Six audibly purring when they land in his vicinity. Maybe a prowler would make a better pillow than a newly busted up metal arm and the concrete floor. You shiver a bit at the sheer power of these creatures, running your fingers over the metal holes in Revenant's arm, causing him to wince away from your touch.

"Does it hurt?" You whisper, hoping not to draw any prowler's attention.

"Yeah, it hurts a lot. My body can feel pain just like you skinsuits." He inhales in distress as you pull your fingers away from the damage. "It honestly feels like the flesh and muscle is torn off, like the bone is crushed and splintered, and like I'm bleeding out on the ground. But I know it's not real. It's never real."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know this would happen." You pull yourself into more of a ball, shuddering at the thought of that level of pain.

"It's not your fault, I instilled this level of protectiveness into them." Revenant pulls his arm away as one of the female prowlers crawls over you and lays on top of you, purring as if to comfort you. "Anyone who hurts one of the girls gets it back sevenfold." You roll onto your back, the prowler readjusting to lay on your belly, purring and licking your neck. "So you can stop being sad about it. They can sense it in you. If you don't want the attention, you can't let yourself be distressed." He sits up, looking down at you smugly while a second prowler writhes across the ground to get close enough to lick your cheek. Are these creatures really this intuitive?

Six notices Revenant sitting up to watch you and meanders over to see the small commotion. Six shoves himself between you and Revenant, apparently sensing some kind of disagreement. Six positions his paws on your neck, allowing you to feel the enormous size of his claws. One flex and you're dead. These things must be three inches of blade, all with a hypodermic tip. Six turns his head to Revenant and makes a sound somewhere between a huff and a growl before shoving his snout against your ear to purr. He bares his fangs while doing so, allowing you to feel how long and menacing they are. You wince away from him, pushing your face into the other prowler's licks, but Six just shoves his snout further to reconnect with you.

"He seems to think I should be more comforting, you're way too nervous for his liking. Good luck being depressed now." He sounds like he's enjoying this, shrugging to himself before he places his hand on your free arm. "Just calm down, they're not going to hurt you."

"I could die from a single flick of the wrist." You carefully say, feeling your vocal chords vibrate against Six's massive nails.

"That doesn't stop you from getting close to me." His hand glides up and down your arm. You don't have a response for him, so you stay quiet. "Like I said, just scream at any discomfort and someone is getting a swift dose of justice." He lies back on the same prowler as before, changing his position to avoid disrupting Six.

"I can't scream if my throat is slit."

"Give it time, you'll understand."

• • • •

Three prowlers is apparently the amount it takes to bring back a stick. It can be more if the stick is longer, but this giant branch is the maximum size you can throw. They hop together, all their jaws in a line across the branch, their fangs clutched around the wood. They carefully drop it at your feet, waiting expectantly for you to try throwing it again. You do your best to throw it, but between your injured arm and the weight of it, you struggle to get it as far as you'd like. The area behind the warehouse is a small yard with enough room for fetch, surrounded by thick forests over a few small hills.

"You throw like a child." You hear Revenant mock you, and you turn around to shoot him a glare. Six is resting in his lap and he has the mother prowler at his side, accepting the belly rubs he offers while the kits sleep. "I can throw farther than you from here, without even standing." You roll your eyes, knowing he's probably right.

Two new prowlers got in on the stick this throw, bounding back to you for another throw. You have eight prowlers all fighting to be one of the three on the stick, but they all seem to be having fun. Four of the young adults are off in the woods playing tug of war by themselves, making a total of sixteen prowlers you've now met. This pack is unusually huge from what little you know. You wonder if Revenant's meddling has something to do with it.

You pick up the branch and drag it over to Revenant, curious to see if he'll back up his claim.

"Alright, go for it." You hand him the end of the branch, and he chucks it far enough to lob over the entire yard and land somewhere in the woods. He snickers as the pack disappears in the darkness after it. You watch, hearing the branch collide with the trees, making rustling and snapping sounds as it catches in them. "So, what if you just got it stuck in a tree?"

"Oh, I thought you wanted me to show off for you." Revenant coos sarcastically. "Give them a few minutes, they can climb." You sigh and shrug, waiting for any sign of them coming back. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, not yet."

"Oh, oh!? You aren't scared of my puppies anymore?" He says between chuckles.

"Shut it." You growl at him, finally getting to use his catch-phrase against him.

"Are you sure? It's getting late." It was beginning to be late in the afternoon, coming up on when you'd normally be wanting dinner. In truth you hadn't eaten in over a day, but depression made it so you never wanted to eat anyway. You'd been playing with his prowlers for hours now, fully accepted by them. You now felt pretty confident in your safety around them, but their stature was still a bit menacing.

"At least let me see if they can bring back that stick." You hear some rustling in the woods, before the eight prowlers burst out of the brush with the original branch and a second, equally massive one. Now only two are left out of being able to hold a part of a stick. They drop both at your feet.

You try to throw the first but it only makes it a short ways, all the prowlers fighting for it. You hand the second to Revenant, and he throws it back into the woods completely out of sight. They all abandon the first stick in preference for the farthest one.

"Maybe you should be doing this." You hunch over, a bit defeated and tired.

"You're doing fine. Anyways, we should wrap up soon. You probably need that shower and I have something I need to do before tomorrow." Revenant starts to get up, prompting Six to get off of him while huffing and shaking himself awake. "Also, you need food."

You sigh, wanting to argue but knowing you can't.

"I'm calling back your ride. We need to get all these guys hidden in the warehouse as to not cause any alarm." He pulls some kind of cellular device out of his pocket on his belt and presses a few buttons. He then proceeds to shuffle you back towards the warehouse, prompting Six, the mother, and the two kits to follow. As you get to the side entrance, Revenant turns around and emits another whistling sound, inundated with his usual modulated twinge. He steps inside with you and the other twelve prowlers come flooding in behind him.

He pets each of them as they make their way in, saving Six and the kits for last. He really does love these creatures. You sheepishly and carefully pet Six as you go to leave, but only because he demands it by butting his head into your hand to make it clear.

Finally, you step outside with Revenant, going towards the dirt road that got you here.

"You look like absolute hell." Revenant jabs. You pull your hair back and try to control it a bit better, but it refuses to cooperate. It's probably stuck from all the prowler saliva all over you, hair absolutely included. Not to even mention your shirt and pants look like you got tackled and ground into the dirt by an entire rugby team. Your shirt was already stained, now it's dusty, dirty, stained, and has green grass streaks. Your shoes are probably just as bad, but they're cheap sneakers so you don't really care much.

"I know, I really need a shower. Maybe two." You give up on your hair. It's just going to be a mess.

"Take as long as you need. I'll be back soon after you. I hope you don't mind riding back alone." You've made it to the dirt road, and you can see the excessively luxurious limo in the distance, kicking up dirt.

"You're not coming?"

"No, I have one last thing to do before the match tomorrow. It'll be worth it, and I think you'll like it too." Revenant seems like he won't budge on the matter.

The limo pulls up and he opens the door for you, and you crawl in alone, making sure you stay as far in the corner as possible. You don't really like the thought of being in here alone, but you have no choice in the matter. He shuts the door and you lose sight of him through the blacked-out windows. The limo starts to move, making a sharp turn and hitting high speeds over the terrain, probably kicking up tons of dust in the meantime. You have nothing to stare at, so you just curl up to yourself and wait to make it back.

"You seem a bit meek for this kind of work, kid." You hear a masculine voice with a skeezy city accent coming from the front of the limo. The privacy window is cracked, just enough so you can hear him, but thankfully not enough so you can see each other. Why was that rolled down at all? It wasn't on the way here. You turn away, refusing to answer, hoping he will leave you be.

"Heh, exactly." You hear him chuckle. You wish you had the guts to just waltz over and roll up the window on him, but you're neither that confident nor strong enough if it ends in a spat. You just let him continue. "Heck, I didn't think robots were even into that stuff, but he seems to be the 'specially fucked-up type." Your stomach sinks like an anchor as you hear what sounds like the draw of a cigarette. "Fucker practically gets off every time he guts someone on live TV. Makes perfect sense he'd get off 'tuh victimizin' some tiny doll like you."

You get the picture, and you feel sick to your stomach for it. You can't respond, every word you want to say gets caught in your throat and you're forced to swallow it. This guy might be unhinged; a lot of people are these days. If you try to argue, he might try something. If you try to play it off... who are you kidding? You could never play this one off. It sounds so bad. Is he going to try to hurt you? Or is this all some mind game?

"Does it hurt? You sure as hell look like you've been through a meat grinder." You feel your face turn red. You turn further away from the cracked window. "Oh, I bet it does. No way 'woulda giant metal psycho like that hold back on a little thing like you."

He won't stop. He's clearly only getting started, but you hope that this is the worst of it.

"Question is: are you a hostage or does he really pay you that well? You know, sweetheart, if you're in need of money, just record whatever the hell he does to 'ya and sell it on the internet." He starts laughing as you internally beg for him to shut up. "All sorts of fucked up dudes would pay for the privilege. You could make absolute bank! Even better if you let him cut you open a bit for the cameras while you scream." He's really laughing now, clearly getting off to how much he has you cornered.

"Everyone loves a good screamin' bitch. Anyone who says they don't is a liar. But you know that, don't 'ya toots?" His use of centuries-old misogynistic slang somehow makes everything worse. You feel yourself shake a bit as you hold yourself tighter. Your stomach hurts badly from the distress now, and you feel yourself spiral internally. Where is this going? Can you outrun this guy if you need to? What if he catches you? Can you squirm out of this guy's grasp? "God, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall while that's going on. I bet your tears only make him harder."

You want to scream, but your prey instincts refuse to let you move or make a sound in hopes that he simply forgets you're there. You can't help yourself but hold your breath in intervals, hoping to be even more silent, but in turn making you more light-headed and fearful.

"I bet there's lots of filthy bastards that would pay extra to have his sloppy seconds." You're absolutely nauseated at the thought of that, but you haven't eaten, so maybe it's just a stomach ulcer forming from the extreme stress. "I bet he's modded to absolutely ruin you, isn't he? Tear your insides up and fill you until you're overflowin', right? You look like he never gives you a day off." You pray, begging God to kill you--this is worse than death.

"So, if he's draggin' 'ya all the way out into the woods to fuck 'ya, it must be pretty messed up stuff, huh?" You lay your face in your hands. "Aww, don't cry babe, I'm not going to tell anyone. I wouldn't want a hole in my chest, anyhow." You want to disappear. You hope he crashes the car and you die in a fire. You hate everything about this. "If you're ever in need of an extra kick of cash though, I wouldn't mind a taste of 'ya. Or buyin' one of those tapes."

You break internally. It feels like the essence of every muscle snaps in your body, and the tears flow without even intending to. You suddenly have the courage to move, but only to move a few inches to cower deeper in the corner of the seats.

It's not worth it. None of this is worth it. You no longer hear anything he says, even though you can still hear his voice. It sounds like you're underwater, so you can't make out the words anymore. Maybe that's a good thing. Unfortunately, you can still make out your own thoughts, and they're all cruel. It's all cruel. Everything about this situation is cruel.

You focus on the tears hitting your hands. They're cold, and they quickly flow out of your palms and down your arms before dripping off your elbows. They leave a trail of salts down your arm so thin you can barely notice it. You don't even feel compelled to make a sound as you cry; it's not that type of sorrow. It's pure humiliation, and your lungs work calmly as your eyes drown instead.

You wish you could just be swallowed by the swell of your own pain. Death is something you think about often as a potential solution to every problem, but right now it feels like a drug you're in active withdrawal from. Like you need it, right here, right now. You want to imagine the limo crashing into an embankment wall, submerging into an ocean, or being hit by a train. You don't care if the creep dies or not, all you know is you want out. The world feels cold enough to sap every degree of heat from you, and you feel as if you're freezing both literally and figuratively.

You fester in the feelings. The only saving grace in this situation is that you're too unimportant to matter to anyone as anything other than an easy squeeze. Nobody will miss you if you die. No one will look for you if you disappear. No family will mourn you. You secretly hope this pervert doesn't know that too, otherwise you might not make it out of this unscathed. You hope he believes Revenant will run him through if he tries to abduct you. You'd rather not die like that, something faster and more violent would be preferred.

Would Revenant kill you? In any circumstance at all? He could make it quick and violent, but he might not want to at this point. He seems to like you more by the day, but now that scares you. Is he human enough to feel strongly about you? Or does he tend to fall back on his programming? Maybe he would like gutting you--then at least someone could enjoy your death. You think about it, but you cannot imagine it without there being some kind of regret thrown in on your or his end. You can only imagine goading him into it by aggressively attacking his emotional stability, which is something you'd regret. Otherwise, you cannot imagine him killing you for no reason and being regret-free afterwards. You don't want him to feel regret. You just want to be free without hurting anyone, but maybe that's unrealistic.

The vehicle comes to a gentle stop. Your brain kicks into survival mode and you immediately rush for the door, not giving the driver any chance to get out of his seat, let alone open the door for you. He is still talking but you don't care; he's only laughing at you anyway. You get the door open and thankfully you're not at some back alley motel, but the main Apex Games facility. It's the back entrance, but you'll take it. It might be a blessing anyway, since it's so close to Revenant's new room that you'll likely avoid all human contact. You get up to the door and fumble in your pocket for your ID card, finally getting it out. You hear the driver say some more heinous things, but you refuse to turn around to see his face. The card is accepted and you rush in.

• • • •

The water is as hot as you can tolerate. It burns your skin and is downright uncomfortable to wash yourself in. Even as you curl up on the shower floor, crying and tolerating the hottest water you can handle, nothing can truly wash off the overwhelming feeling of being violated. Nothing can wash off the depression, the feelings of insignificance, the intrusive suicidal ideations, or the fear of meaning nothing in the grand scheme of things while simultaneously meaning just enough to force you into living.

The floor of the shower is warm, but it's still uncomfortable to lay on. The water spray hitting your skin is the only comfort you feel, but it isn't enough to quell you. The soap slowly rinses off your body, and the lathered up shampoo slowly flows out of your hair and down the drain. You'll eventually rinse completely like this, but it will be a while longer. How long has it already been? You took a long time sitting on the shower floor to even find the energy to get the soap lathered on you, and even that process was slow. Now you've been back on the floor and letting the soap slowly come off as you sob. Revenant might be back by now, but you're not sure what his errand was exactly. Maybe it will take all night. Does it matter? Do you matter? The thoughts won't stop.

You just cry. You cry until it feels like your soul starts to leave your body. Maybe it does. Between the heat, the steam, and the exhaustion, you pass out.

• • • •

"Skinsuit!" You feel yourself being gently jostled, still on the shower floor. The water is off, but the steam is so thick you question how long it's been. Your skin is beginning to get wrinkled from all the water absorption, so it's been a while. You're facing away from him, and you don't have the energy to turn to him. You don't even have the energy to speak. You just play the corpse, hoping that faking it will cause you to make it.

Revenant withdraws, and you hear rapid shuffling behind you. It sounds like he grabs the towel you had hung for yourself, running in and out of the bathroom to grab other things. You care about how he feels--he sounds distressed--but not for yourself. Why does he care at all, though? How does he feel about all this, anyway?

"Come here, little skinsuit. Everything is fine." You feel his arms scoop under you, and your natural instinct is to resist the hard synthetics against your bare skin. You wince a little, but mostly keep your corpse-like state: eyes closed and body limp. He carries you out of the bathroom where the air is freezing, but also not inundated with enough water vapor to nearly asphyxiate you. Weirdly enough, his chest isn't cold, but actually has something like fur? You don't open your eyes, you're probably just imagining it.

He places you down on a towel on the bed, immediately throwing another equally large towel over you. You're still cold, but it's way more tolerable with something over you. You hear Revenant mumbling in some kind of panic to himself, but you still can't find the energy to console him. You hear some typing on his computer, then the chair gets shoved out from under him as he stands in a huff. You hear your duffle bag unzip and likely some of your clothes be tossed on the bed near your head.

"You better not be mad at me for this..." He sounds unsure of that himself before you feel his hands start to dry you off through the towel. It would be nice if it didn't feel so wrong. Even if it is through a towel, you're naked otherwise. The thought of what the driver said hits you, and you immediately begin to feel anxiety and shake against your will. He reacts by scooping you up and hugging you, still wrapped in a towel, trying to stop the shaking.

"Dammit, what's going on?" You hear him whisper, he doesn't seem to realize you're awake and aware.

More fur. Why is there fur? Also, why does it feel like there's something resting on your head? It's way too large to be his chin. His chest feels smaller too, and it feels like some type of plastic rather than metal. The more you feel the more questions you have, and the more you panic at the realization that you do not know this simulacrum. You reach your limit and perk up in his arms, opening your eyes, and silently gasping as you reel back from whoever the heck this is.

"Wait! Skinsuit! It's me!" He manages to hold your arms before you can fully pull away, and you meet eyesight with a chassis you do not recognize. He has a huge, artificial bovine skull with curling ram horns situated on top. Instead of his scarf, his new face is framed in a mane of deep bark-colored fur, matted into locks like a proper wild animal. The optics tucked inside his skull seem so much larger than his normal ones, and they're a brilliant blueish-white, unlike his normal yellow ones. His snout is long enough to have been what was sitting on your head. His body looks to be made much thinner, especially in the chest, and is clearly made with more plastics than metals. It looks significantly lighter. His arms are red with odd, jagged juts on them, but seem to have similar hand mechanics otherwise. His loincloth is replaced with another long patch of fur, as well as fur on his thigh plates. His legs look a lot more decorative, and his feet are scarier: detailed down to each individual talon. His feet actually look much more like the hands on his other chassis.

"Skinsuit?" You snap out of your trance at his voice. You must have been staring him up and down for a while. "Uh, here." He pulls the towels back over you, which had fallen off when you pulled away. He reaches out to touch you, but stops short in case you aren't all there yet. "It's me, I'm just in a special body for tomorrow. I didn't mean to scare you." He's speaking slowly and methodically; his fingers make contact with your hand, but don't go further. "You must have fainted in the shower. You haven't been eating enough, but don't worry, everything's okay now."

Your head starts to throb and you instinctively go to hold it, the stress of the situation is too much. Even though he's trying to be reassuring, he looks like some kind of robotic, big-horned, undead goat demon and honestly you just wanted to see a familiar face to go with the familiar voice. You're not scared now that you know it's him, but something still doesn't feel right about it. Since you don't know this new chassis, you find it hard to trust his comfort. It's weird. Any other time you'd be overjoyed to see him in something that looks so cool, but now you're looking for some semblance of normalcy.

"How do you feel?" His right hand moves again to rest on your knee, intentionally avoiding pushing any boundaries. You can't answer, you still can't speak. It gets caught in your throat despite your best intentions, and instead your words turn into a new burst of tears and sobs. Without thinking, you take his hand off your knee and pull it to your face, sobbing into it. He seems relieved at your acceptance, and tries his best to catch and wipe away the tears as they flow. He shuffles as if to hug you, but he stops, likely unsure of how you feel when you're essentially in nothing but two loosely wrapped towels.

"I'm sorry, I thought seeing my pack would help, but I should have realized you haven't been eating enough. It's not something I've had to pay attention to in centuries." Your heart hurts as he seems to take the blame himself. "I also didn't mean to scare you again... I promise I'm not planning on hurting you." You want to speak so badly, but you just cry harder instead. None of this is his fault. Literally none of it. The only reason you're so jumpy is because everything that pervert said has sent you into a spiral. You imagined Revenant hurting you for his own entertainment and pleasure, and this imaginary smoking gun has left you very gun-shy.

"I ordered food for you to be delivered to the room. I expect you to eat something, even if it's not much. I don't want you dying on me." You push his hand into your face, trying to dry the tears. "I ordered a lot. I'm not sure what you like." You nod to affirm you hear him and plan to try, even though you're too nauseous to be hungry at the moment.

He uses his free hand to grab the clothing he pulled from your bag and puts it in front of you. He probably wasn't thinking too hard when he picked things out, but an oversized tee and men's basketball shorts are as comfy as it gets, so he did fine in your book. He left out undergarments, but honestly you couldn't care less at this point. Whatever covers you is fine. You pull his hand away from your face and place it on the bed gently. You grab the shirt, and he immediately turns away to let you put it on. You're able to throw it on along with the shorts in a few seconds, and quickly retrieve his hand when done. He turns back, maintaining the boundaries he interpreted.

"Any better?" He wipes away a few trailing tears now that you've slowed down a lot. You nod, still not sure how your voice is doing.

There's a knock on the door and Revenant pulls away gently to go get it. You hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

"I've got enough Chinese for like, five people. Who is even in this room? Are y'all having a sleepover in the abandoned room? To be fair I'd do the sa--"

Revenant opens the door and Sherry has a long pause to look up at the recipient. She doesn't even notice you, but you see her put the bags on the floor slowly and take a step back, hands up defensively.

"Okay, so it's a demon summoning, my bad..." Her sass is ever present. "And here I made the mistake of thinking I was running into some normal kind of fun."

"Sherry!" Your voice cracks back into action and the perfect moment. She shoots a look past Revenant to see you.

"You're summoning demons now?! Did you dump the tinman and summon an incubus as a bounce back or something?!" She looks up at Revenant, still not sure who it is. "Also, do demons really like Chinese food this much?"

"Sherry, shut up! I need a hug!" The tears are coming back, and Sherry valiantly slips under Revenant's arm to run to you. Revenant seems to be in complete shock at her brazenness, but also unwilling to stop her since you invited her in. He picks up the bag of food instead and brings it in, setting it on the television stand. Sherry leaps into a hug and you accept it graciously. Sherry is the closest thing you have to a sister and you could use someone like her right now. Revenant sits in the computer chair, watching you embrace closely, but not speaking or interfering.

"Where's the Revenant guy? What happened? Did he dump you? Did you run away? Who is this guy?" She immediately starts getting to brass tacks mid-hug. Although with her the hug won't end until you stop crying anyway.

"That is Rev, Sherry. It's just a different body." You manage to get out. She shoots Revenant a discerning look before slowly recognizing the similarities.

"Oh, hey, you're right. My bad, mister murder robot... haha..." She trails off nervously, Revenant only responding with a grunt and a huff. Suddenly, she snaps back into a fiery disposition. "Wait! Did you do something to her, you doofy-lookin' Beelzebub knockoff?! You may be able to gut me, but I'll defend her honor to my grave!" Now you're hugging Sherry to hold her back from trying to start something.

"It was a complete accident. I wasn't keeping track of how much she's been eating and I didn't catch her starving herself; plus I didn't expect this body to scare her as much as it did." Revenant doesn't lose an aggressive posture, but his words are fairly soft and empathetic.

"It's not that! I promise, it's not any of that!" You hug Sherry hard enough that she winces, but sensing your desperation she holds you tighter and pulls your head into her chest with no regard for what that may look like. You're glad you don't have those kinds of feelings for Sherry, otherwise this might be a bit strange. You see Revenant cock his head to the side and his eyes sharpen at the sight.

"It was the ride back, alone. That stupid driver was--" you choke, you hate saying these words out loud, "--a perverted bastard. An absolute dog." It comes out and devolves into a half-sob, thankfully still understandable. You start to cry again, reliving the things he said, not sure how you'd ever be able to say them yourself, even just to explain what happened.

"What happened? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?!" Sherry barely contains her concerns, if at all, squeezing you as you cry.

Revenant stands very slowly and methodically out of the chair, and begins to make some kind of animalistic growl you've never heard him make in your life. He paces back and forth, slowly stifling his growl as he goes. Sherry seems a bit concerned by him, but she continues to try to comfort you, awaiting an answer.

It takes almost a full minute to catch your breath again and be able to speak again, but you do.

"He didn't touch me. He just said things that--" Back to sobbing. You thought too far ahead and started to repeat his words again to yourself.

Despite your crying, Sherry sighs in relief, significantly less tense than before. She starts to rock you in her hug and you go along with it. Revenant's intensity only seems to worsen. He paces faster for a few moments as you cry, before he calms himself down enough to approach the situation.

He sits on the edge of the bed next to you and Sherry, currently latched on to each other. He doesn't attempt to pull you apart, he simply waits patiently. He's completely calm and collected now, with no signs of previous rage apparent, but you're sure it's still there.

"What kind of things did he say?" Sherry asks kindly, no sense of urgency in her voice. She plays with your hair a bit, which might as well be one of the greatest feelings in the world. It might be just distracting enough for you to get it out.

"He said he wanted to buy tapes..." You inhale heavily trying to hold back the inevitable runny nose. "...of Revenant cutting into me and... using me." Sherry gasps through her nose in disgust, but squeezes you tighter in response.

"I'm sorry, that's terri--"

"He said I should sell myself afterwards, that people would like me better if I still had... stuff... inside me." You cut her off but you're not done. Sherry is starting to get tense, but more notably, so is a particular simulacrum only a few feet away. "He said he wanted to watch it all! And try me for himself, too." That's all you needed to say, you're back to sobbing and Sherry starts to cry with you, unable to help her empathy. You're latched on to each other trying to comfort one another, but instead both of you are just a sobbing mess.

Revenant sits, lifeless for a moment, before standing up and limping towards the door.

"Revenant!" You call out to him through tears, and he stops and turns towards you, revealing his eyes are voids. He's in reboot. "Don't kill anyone." You try to sound confident, but you're not sure how it comes out. He turns away again, and limps out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He didn't acknowledge what you said, but you hope he heard you.

Sherry perks up, wiping away her own tears and pulling away for a moment.

"Do you think he'll listen?" Sherry seems stressed.

"I hope so."

• • • •

"So, he's actually an average person, stuck in a body that drives him to be a bloodthirsty assassin via software?" Sherry asks, taking another bite of the sweet and sour chicken.

"As far as I can tell, yeah... Wait, did you not know what a simulacrum was before now?"

"I meant to look it up but I never did. I figured it was like a brand-name or something." She giggles at herself, but you sense there's a chance she may be joking. "So, you actually do really like this spindly metal guy, after all? And he's so much older! You have mature tastes." She goes straight to teasing, now that you're feeling a bit better.

"I didn't say anything about that, ma'am." You stare at the General Tso's chicken in front of you, not sure if you can eat a third piece. You still feel wrong somehow.

"You don't have to. I think he likes you too. I mean, he isn't wearing your innards as a scarf. For him, that's something." She prods.

"He's not as bad as you think, you know." You don't know how to convince her without potentially telling her something Revenant wouldn't want you to.

"Sure, he just kills people on live TV for the paycheck." She shrugs. "Oh! And maybe killing some pervert who sexually harassed you right now."

"I didn't tell him to do that!" You snap, you legitimately don't want to have even a drop of that blood on your hands. Sure, this guy was an absolute creep, but he didn't lay hands on you. That's your limit, and he didn't cross it. He isn't as bad as Forge. That guy did cross the line. He crossed a lot of lines.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset." Sherry sounds genuine. You sigh.

"It's okay, I really hope he's just running off some steam. I hope he knows most of my distress was just depression winning." You poke the chicken.

"That's not true, I would have been so scared too. I mean, you were in real danger. It's a miracle you held it together at all, I'm not sure I could have. I still can't believe--"

The door swings open and Revenant walks in, stopping all conversation in its tracks. He's hunched forward, looking somewhat disappointed.

"I hope you're happy. He'll live." He looks you dead in the eyes, waiting for your reaction.

You smile openly, glad he heeded your request.

"Everyone in his contacts now has a copy of the encrypted files on his computer, all decrypted for their viewing pleasure." He breaks eye contact with you. "At least one of them is sure to call the feds when they see their inbox tomorrow."

"Oh geeze, he was that kind of creep?" Sherry exclaims out loud, still eating chicken.

"Oh yeah, he's been collecting a lot of really rare porn. Honestly, I wish you'd have just let me kill him so I didn't have to expose myself to that." You feel a little guilty that he had to dig through it, it explains why he looks so dejected.

"I'm sorry..." You can't help yourself, you feel bad when he seems upset about anything.

"How much have you eaten?" He seems to have noticed how full your box of chicken still is.

"Two pieces of chicken, and maybe one piece of broccoli." Sherry rats you out with a cruel grin on her face.

"Snitch!" You shoot back at her. She closes her box with a mischievous smirk, hops up, and starts to leave.

"Nice to meet 'ya, you synthetic Wendigo! Have fun and be safe, you two!" She slips past Revenant quickly and is out of the door, skipping down the hallway as the door slowly shuts behind her. Revenant watches her leave with some mix of confusion and concern. You turn to reassure him.

"She's fine. She won't say anything. She--"

"Clearly is some kind of competition for me. I mean, she held you like you two were bonded for life." He's immediately free to tease you with her gone. Thank goodness Revenant seems too shy to gang up on you with her; that would be untenable. He throws himself down next to you where Sherry once was. "I want that same kind of bond." He barely touches your chin with his claws, being sure to growl the last bit out loud.

You emit a whining noise, paralyzed by the thought. You're a bit more sensitive to it all at the moment, considering the events of the day. Revenant notices your struggle and pulls back, reverting to his demanding style.

"Eat your food. I didn't intend for your girlfriend to run off with a free meal and you not eat anything." It still feels weird coming from his new body, but you're getting used to it.

"She's just a good friend, that's all. And I was just too busy talking to eat, I still don't feel great though." You poke at the food, it's lukewarm by now but that isn't your main objection to it. You just don't feel like eating.

"Oh, so we aren't close enough yet for that kind of affection? I'll fix that soon enough." His voice hums. You sigh.

"Oh please," You pet his snout and he seems to enjoy it, getting him off your case for a bit, "Not right now, harass me later. If you want me to eat anything, you can't be doing this." He really seems to enjoy the snout rubs.

"Alright, fine, you eat, I'll talk." You pull your hand away and focus more on the food. "I have quite a number of these special chassis to myself, all kinds of designs and colors and other nonsense. These are my special occasion outfits, per sé." You nod, it makes sense. "This one, as well as many others, are modded to the brim with all sorts of fun additions." He touches his snout, noting where you pet it. "I can feel every single aspect of this suit, even those that don't conform to the human shape. Even better, it's neural processors are exponentially faster, meaning everything feels much more vivid and vibrant." He pulls his fingers to the nasal cavity. "I have an entire set of cores that do nothing but olfactory processing, so I get to be the better Bloodhound while I wear it." His fingers fall to his jaw. "This luxurious suit even gets a jaw with clamping power, canine teeth to snag whatever I want, and a synthetic tongue to taste the blood I spill." He starts to snarl his words as he pulls open his jaw to show you his mouth. He points to his horns next. "These things? Silicone carbide sections with rubber impulse reducers between." You stare at him with a look of minor confusion, so he clarifies. "I can headbutt a skull into fragments without even leaving a dent in my own." You wince at the thought. "Not to even mention the use of polyethylenes instead of metals in the body with support weights in the limbs makes it so I can move faster than ever but still hit just as hard. Not to even mention all the modifications below the neck. You'll see how much I destroy in tomorrow's match. I will win, I promise you that."

"Wanna bet?" You're happy with how confident he is, but you can't help but want to start something.

"And what do I have that you could possibly want?" Revenant asks the opposite of what you expect him to. Isn't the question usually posed the opposite way? You close up your leftovers and start going over to the kitchenette to put it in the fridge.

"Well, I wouldn't mind money or just hanging out with the prowlers again. I could put money on it too, just not enough to make it worth your while. Did you have something in mind?" The fridge is nearly empty, spare for that water bottle and liquor. You throw the box down on a shelf, close the door, and plop down on the couch in a lying position.

"So, if I don't win, I have to take you to see my puppies again, or give you money. Neither of those are objectionable to me, but when I win I get to take something instead?"

"Yeah, that's how I'm framing it. The extra motivation can't hurt. I just don't know what you'd want. I have some savings, but--"

"Forget the money, I don't exactly have much need for it and I have tons anyway. What I want..." He pauses for a moment as his voice turns sinister. "...is to hear you call me 'daddy' again while I take a piece of you." He seethes with a sadistically erotic tone.

You stare into space, your face must be red again.

"C'mon skinsuit, it's not every day I'm in one of my few suits with the proper equipment for it." He's loving the look on your face, undoubtedly. He's acting like this is a cruel joke, but... How far would he take this joke, though? Better yet, how far will you force him to take it? You still feel ill at ease about the idea, but you're suddenly angry enough to buck off the shame.

"Alright, fuck you but sure." Probably the ballsiest thing you've ever said in your life.

Revenant is caught off guard for a moment, his eyes dimming until they're nearly off, freezing in a somewhat shocked motion. After a few moments, you hear him slowly return as he laughs out loud. He has trouble containing himself, and goes to rub his mask again.

"You're insane, but I love that." He finally contains his laughter. "Your friend, what's her name?"

"Sherry." Weird change in subject but okay.

"Who's her favorite?"

"Wattson."

"Oh, perfect. I'll send a special request for her to keep you company during the match. I want you both to watch. I got my assigned team not long ago." He stands up from the edge of the bed and meanders over to the couch you're on, looming over you.

"Oh, are you with Wattson?"

"And Wraith. It's perfect for what I have planned." He never did explain what his plan was that day he dragged you all over the arena. "Loba's little triumph will pale in comparison to my massacre."

"Try not to make it too--"

"It will be bloody, gory, and brutal. Sorry little skinsuit, but you used up your pardon." He chides you from above before reaching down to help you up. "Now come, I need to warm something."

You stand up, a bit confused by his request, until he pulls you into a hug and you feel how strangely warm his body is. You're a bit taken aback at first, but you slowly ease into him and the warmth he offers.

"Luxurious, isn't it?" You feel his chest rattle into a purring sound as he cradles your head against his warm chest. "I like it too." He gently pulls you away from the couch before leading you to the bed.

You don't protest, you just crawl into bed and shuffle to the middle, making plenty of room for him to follow. You see the lights flick off, then feel his warmth press up against your back, cradling you completely. His snout rests on your shoulder, breathing into your ear. It's comforting, something you really needed after today.

"Thanks, Rev." You barely manage to whisper. He huffs in your ear as affirmation before you fall asleep.