#did you let me die in the time loop. was the time loop centered around my death . could you not let me go .

[llumimoon]

ouudhhdhhgggdggd kagerou days time loop oakworthy ..:...,,;;:!!;!!!!!!!! <- is so sleep deprived and has not stopped thinking about this concept

[rxzennia]

thrice shall the bell toll

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 expands on 2.2 leaks, dark content towards the end, character death (everyone dies), heavy angst(?), not proofread. totally did not die a little inside when i wrote this, no. thank you all for 100+ followers! gold and gears, achievement grinding are driving me nuts and seeing everyone else get him makes me want to quit the game altogether. perhaps it’s time i focus more on other things. 

“never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

the musicians begin to play with rigor as the symphony enters crescendo, building up to its climax as the orchestral music increases in intensity and irregularity. the choir sings, paving the way for the descent of an aeon, of justice; their harmony announcing the impending doom of the sinner, promising his demise, promising him eternal rest.

you arrive at the central plaza, just in time for the closing act.

you meet sunday’s eyes, the bastard head of the oak family, the mastermind conducting this cacophony of noises and disturbances. he has the gall to smirk, to flash you a smirk, as if he’s daring you to do anything.

“aventurine, ambassador of the interastral peace corporation.” sunday stalks around the man bound in shackles, like predator circling prey, hands behind his back as he looks down at him with contempt. “you are hereby found… guilty.”

the baton descends – with it, the melody dramatically tips over its climax into decrescendo. 

people often say that death has no place in a dream of prosperity and privilege. 

but when the distinction between dream and reality blurs as the very dimension crumbles, who’s to say that to die is to wake, and who’s to say that death is not still death?

in his last moments of consciousness, aventurine sees you reach for your scarf with an expression he had never seen before. acceptance, perhaps? or disappointment? regardless, you have still chosen to surprise him at his last moment. must you continue to exceed his expectations even at his execution? but both you and he know that it is already too late, and his final solace is that you are present to witness the final chapter of his story.

that he is not left behind again.

the golden hands come full circle, palms closing as the strings lift their bows in unison, leaving only the winds to continue playing. the conductor drops their baton as the inevitable quickly encroaches upon the center stage, as the music ceases until only a sole trumpet remains sounding –

he closes his eyes with a last smile for you; aventurine has finally won, at the cost of losing everything.

once shall the bell toll, for the blessed prisoner condemned to a life of deceit and insincerity.

in a split second, the sky darkens; what used to be perpetually golden and bright has been eclipsed without a trace. the artificial sun goes out, street lamps are extinguished, a veil of darkness envelops the golden hour. what was once paradise becomes the abyss, and lament stands where joy once stood. 

your scarf flutters to the ground as you give it a strong tug, undoing its loops around your neck as you let it fall. you are half-expecting a gasp followed by a waterfall of words, but it never comes.

because there is no source. aventurine isn’t here anymore. 

there’s no more of your boss staring at you with the most awestruck expression as you reveal your face anymore. there’s no more of your boss’s endless pestering anymore.

there’s no more of aventurine opening up to you, getting you to open up, or him tentatively trusting you with fragments of his past anymore.

for the first time, you experience anger. a wrath so intense that it is enough to set even the heavens alight.

it’s about time someone ripped up this disgusting dream woven with fabric made of lies. this facade of extravagant luxury built upon a decaying foundation and the desperation of the masses’ escapism, a nightmare delicately packaged into fantasy that had stripped countless people of their ambitions and futures, it’s about time someone demolished it all.

the dreamchasers who voluntarily surrendered their realities for a temporary escape, the family members who could only obey, the heads of families who put together a ploy like this, and the harmonious strings who composed such a chaotic melody…

none of them matter. 

all that matters is that aventurine is executed, publicly, in utmost humiliation.

your scarf disintegrates into tiny specks of dust. brilliantly platinum scales extend from your fingertips to your jaw, threatening to stretch along your face, too. as if answering your call, serpents emerge from all corners of your shadow, slithering off towards all directions as they respond to your will.

in the sky that is pitch black, even darker shadows rear their heads; they fly, circle around the plane of the masterfully crafted illusion, around penacony itself. they await your orders, they await your next command. 

“eat up, my darlings.”

twice shall the bell toll, for the manufactured illusion of utopia drowning in the afterglow of opulence.

there is a reason why oroboros the voracity has kept to themselves in an unseen corner of the universe – they are not titled the unsatisfied devourer without reason.

with each corner you take for your own sustenance, you feel the universe tilt. the scales are tipping, the balance is tipping. with each piece of reality you consume, the boundary between subconscious and conscious blurs, falsehoods bleed into truth, and you feast upon them all the same.

in your rage, you are not merely tearing lives and environments apart. you are tearing religions apart, tearing peoples apart. worshippers and monuments of xipe the harmony, their symbols and their emanators, the hard-built resort destination called the dreamscape, and the plainly unremarkable penacony in reality, you are tearing it all apart.

you know you have upset the balance, and you know the consequences. you can hear the crystalline chime of the arbiter’s footsteps approaching you, you can almost see the blinding white light of the operating theater.

as the planet of festivities begin to fall out of orbit, so too do the serpents begin to decompose into glittering ashes. 

people scream as gravity somersaults, some swallowed by the caving ground, some swallowed by the gaping maws of the faceless serpents, and some dying by the hand of their kin as they struggle for survival.

you watch impassively as mortals scramble to prolong their lives, and you watch impassively as your serpents are lost, one by one, to the hands of an aeon.

if the mere handwave of an arrogant upholder of justice and a simple declaration are justification enough for an execution, for what reason should you not return the gesture?

if people would simply watch as someone is served the death penalty, what reason do you have to act as they become feed one after another?

and what reason do you have to cling onto mortal sentiments, now that your anchor to mortality is gone?

the man they killed is aventurine. your sometimes-too-annoying boss that you would not trade for anything in the world. your anchor; your dear, dear friend.

you see no reason to rein in your instincts anymore. the primal urge to consume overwhelms you, and all you want to do is to devour, devour, until there is nothing left.

voracity. oroboros’s will.

eat up while you still can, fill your metaphorical stomach with the blood of implicit killers, and tear into the flesh of the perpetrators of this grave transgression.

make them pay. before your judgement rains upon you, before the trumpeters herald your doom, before the star radiating false light meets its end in a supernova, make them pay.

their surgery is swift and painless – precise incision; two, three motions of the scalpel; complete excision.

at long last, the curtains fall. theatrics reach its conclusion, and when you look – there is no one left in the audience. 

thrice shall the bell toll, for the leviathan whose fury burned brighter than the ordinance of equilibrium.

[pigeontheoneandonly]

exit criteria

ETA: Now with AO3 link! Link

For once, I was actually feeling writerly, so I did a little time loop fic tonight about the run to the beam at the end of ME3:

The mortar struck the tank, flipped it, and in one single motion smeared Kaidan and Garrus into paste.

Shock took Shepard first, and the bullet took her second.

* * *

This time, Shepard threw her arm out and kept Kaidan from running ahead.  So the bullet got him instead.

* * *

She had figured out far more complex problems than this, many times over.  Failing twice was annoying.  A blemish on her record, even if nobody else would ever know.  So Shepard took half a beat before charging down the London rubble once again, used it to draw her own heavy weapon, and simply blasted the tank out of the way.

Garrus spared a moment none of them had to toss her a confused glance.  Her answering smirk had just reached peak smugness when the airborne reaper unit, alerted by the explosion, sighted and fired, briefly illuminating each of their three outlines in its plasma beam before they atomized.

* * *

Her squad balked at running down the right side of the field when the center was clearly optimal.  But they’d followed her to hell, and there was no time to argue.

Kaidan didn’t say I told you so when the banshee lifted him by his hair to her fetid mouth.  He was too preoccupied with screaming, suddenly cut off.

* * *

Think, Shepard.  She stared across the battlefield.  Twenty seconds, then a minute, then five—an eternity in these conditions.  The profligate waste didn’t concern her.  Clearly, she’d have as many attempts as necessary to get this right.

(You hope, whispered a poisonous thought.  You assume.  You need.)

Beyond the beam that led to the Citadel, Harbinger crouched.

“I need to go further back,” she said aloud, abrupt, just before the reaper’s cherry red beam shot out through the dark with unerring precision.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Hackett told her, on the med evac shuttle more than a day after she left Garrus and Liara dead under the tank.  “The Crucible firing disabled most of the fleet, but stopped short of outright destroying it.  Cerberus put too much reaper technology into the Normandy’s redesign.  We found no survivors.”

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Shepard said, as Kaidan broke their goodbye kiss, eyes wide.  A hypodermic needle was small but still noticeable when it pricked the delicate skin of the neck.  “I need you to live.”

Her arms caught him as he folded up, gentle.  Forgive me. 

A bombed-out building had few good or secure hiding spots the size of an adult human male.  Someone found him and brought him back to the Normandy.  To the impromptu field hospital.  To the personal care of an inexperienced and self-trained civilian medic whose misdiagnosis led to organ failure.

After the fourth attempt, Shepard abandoned the approach in exasperation.

* * *

Her squad charged down the left side.  Killing a brute wasn’t unprecedented at this point in the war, but doing so with barely twenty feet of maneuvering room proved impossible.  She should know.  She tried ten times.

* * *

Shepard sat down at the top of hill, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring down the beam with real anger.

“Shouldn’t we charge?” Kaidan asked.

“You’d think so,” she grumbled.

* * *

The tank flipped.

The tank flipped.

The tank flipped.

The tank flipped—

* * *

Once, she went to the hill alone and screamed with every last ounce of frustration in her body.  “What do you want from me?!”

Harbinger did not deign to reply.  It did not even deign to slap her aside itself.  Instead, it left her to be overrun, eventually, by various husks.

* * *

It merited further consideration, however: What did Harbinger (or the universe, or fate, or or or) want from her? 

Her eyes narrowed over the London apocalypse.  The galaxy can burn.  There is no version of this mission where I let Kaidan die. 

* * *

I won’t, she said, as a marauder broke through his armor.

I won’t, she said, while Kaidan flew thirty feet into the air and hit the ground with terrible finality.

I won’t, she said, as the tank flipped over him.

* * *

Kaidan found her in starboard observation, Earth growing ever larger in the port.  Her hand pushed against the glass as if she could, by force, prevent it coming any closer.

She knew his footsteps.  She knew the way the air stirred around his shape, the faint rustle of his clothes and the even fainter whiff of soap.  Every line, tick, and habit.

Her shoulders hunched.

He asked her what was wrong, because he knew her, too, every mood and every flinch.

So Shepard did something she’d never done before, in any iteration: she told him.

It took a bit of time, and then they were both quiet for a long while.  Kaidan held her curled in his arms.  His breath in her hair.  Her fingers digging into his forearm. 

“I need you to do something for me,” he said, at last, sounding as tired as she felt.

Shepard knew Kaidan.  Her grip tightens another fraction.  “Don’t you dare say it.”

Quietly, inexorably, gently.  “You need to let me go.”

The only answer she could bear was to shake her head, her throat stopped up.

* * *

Shepard never made that mistake again.  But yet.

He kissed her in London, his hand lingering, cupped around her cheek.  You need to let me go.

His gloved hand scooped up hers, just for a few paces, a stolen moment on a quiet street between packs of roaming reaper forces on their way to the beam, an ounce of warmth amid terror and despair.  You need to let me go.

His breath woofed out, relief and new tension all at once, as they crested the hill and stared down at the frighteningly open terrain teeming with endless enemies, glowing with gunfire, the last stand, the last fight.  You need to let me go.

* * *

She sat beside the tank a long while.  Kaidan, his meat, was somewhere under it.  In point of fact, this was the longest she’d ever lasted, any time she’d paused during the run to the beam.  Nothing cared about her.  Not here in the shadow of a ruined vehicle, no gun drawn, no fight left in the lines of her body.  They all saw instinctively that she was no true threat.

There wasn’t a name for this sort of grief.  How could anyone grieve a person who was dead thirty or forty or a hundred times over?  He’d been dead the first time the mortar struck the tank and he was still dead now and there was absolutely nothing, nothing, to be done about it. 

After a time, other reapers landed, legions of them making mountains on the horizon with their long, raised thoraxes.  Systemically, they scoured London clean in a shower of particle beams and sonorous booms. 

Shepard fell asleep not long after dawn and died without knowing it.

* * *

Kaidan tore his gaze away from the beam when he felt the pressure of Shepard looking at him.  He cocked his head.  “What are you doing?”

She took him in.  Not long, not nearly long enough, but she took what she could get of him, always.  Almost too quiet to hear, she sighed out, “Letting go.”

His brow creased.  Then Garrus yelled, as the first of the enemy took notice of them, and they were flying down the field, Shepard chasing Kaidan chasing Garrus.

The mortar arced downward. 

The tank flipped up into the air.

Shepard ran.  The bullet whizzed past her shoulder, where she stood not a fraction of a second earlier. 

The airborne reaper, passing overhead, took note of the human, and fired a plasma beam.  The angle was not optimal.  Even perfect machines bow to physics.

The beam flashed by her at near light-speed, hot enough to scorch her cheek.

It met the tank in the midair. 

The tank glowed, and then exploded, knocking Kaidan and Garrus to the ground under a hot shrapnel rain. 

The stab in her chest never lost its edge, no matter how many dozens of times he died.  But her step didn’t falter.  Her arms pumped, her legs flying, moving so fast, in fact, that the tears leaking out of her eyes flowed back into her hair—

Until, as she flashed by the tank’s remains, something new:

Kaidan sat up. 

[cricketnationrise]

7:15am, ransom and bitty, haus kitchen, “honeybee” by anju

OMG new song obsession for real. its so sweet and lovely and like perfect sunday morning vibes - thank you for the introduction! i hope you like your ficlet!!! 💜🦗

want your own ficlet? followers can submit prompts using these guidelines through Jan 31 2024 (only 4 days left oh gosh!) all ficlets submitted by the deadline will get written!

🏒🏒🏒🏒

7:15am, haus kitchen

No shade to Holster and an exquisitely co-planned kegster, but there’s nothing more perfect than early Tuesday mornings in the kitchen of the Haus. There’s no practice until the afternoon, the rest of the Haus either asleep or have already left to begin their day like the robot they claim not to be. It’s just Ransom, alone in the kitchen, watching the street wake up with the sun over his cup of coffee. It’s a nice moment of stillness before the eight AM class that kicks off his busiest day. Just him and the other poor fools with early classes.

Ransom does a double take when he sees Bitty of all people running back to the Haus, waving goodbye to Jack as he carries on for another loop of campus. He would have bet his share of Bitty’s pies for the rest of the year that Bitty would rather die than get up this side of eight on a day when he doesn’t have class until ten. 

Bitty practically dances through the front door and into the kitchen, the very picture of cloud nine, only catching sight of Ransom staring at him in shock when he twirls around toward the fridge for creamer.

“Oh! Mornin’, Rans. Didn’t know you’d be up this early!”

“I could say the same to you, Bits.”

Bitty’s cheeks go pink at that, his eyes flicking to the window. “Well, Jack offered to start checking practice again, after that last game, and the way practice has been going…” He trails off for a moment, lost in memories and Ransom doesn’t push, doesn’t want to remind Bitty even more of the hit from last season. Doesn’t want to think about how still Bitty was, just lying there on the ice, helmet thrown feet away from him.

“Anyhow,” Bitty says with determined cheer. “The only open slot was real early before the figure skaters so Jack—”

“He didn’t,” Ransom chimes in with mock horror.

“He did. Five o’clock in the morning. Well, actually quarter t’five so that we had time to walk over. Before the sun was even thinkin’ ‘bout peekin’ over the horizon.” He’s shaking his head ruefully but his eyes go soft, glancing outside once again, and Ransom feels a funny swoop in his chest. “It was real pretty in Faber though, seein’ all those pretty colors through the windows.”

Ransom can picture it in his mind’s eye, Bitty’s blonde hair etched in early morning rays like a halo, lit from all sides where the sun reflects off the ice like some sort of deity.

“I’ll bet,” Ransom manages to say before taking a hasty swig of his coffee.

“What are you doin’ up this early anyways?” Bitty asks, rummaging in the fridge.

“Got class at eight.”

“It ain’t even seven yet!”

That’s stretching it a bit, he can see the microwave clock blinking 6:59 over Bitty’s shoulder, but Ransom just shrugs. “I’ve got a packed day, five classes, plus practice after. So I started getting up earlier to have a moment to center myself before the madness.”

“Oh! D’you want me to leave? This can all wait.”

“No!” Ransom clears his throat before dropping his voice back to a reasonable volume. “I mean no, you’re fine to stay. I’d like you to, if you want.”

Bitty watches his face for a long moment before the furrow in his brow clears and he takes Ransom at his words with a wide smile. “Well then, sugar, you’ll have to taste test this french toast recipe I found the other day while studying for that food history class Jack and I are taking.”

“However will I survive?” Ransom deadpans, pleased when Bitty dissolves into giggles.

“I’m sure you’ll muddle through somehow,” he says solemnly, teasing Ransom right back.

Ransom sits back and watches Bitty flit around the kitchen cooking up a storm, lets his torrent words wash over him and fade to a pleasant buzz, and soaks up the honey-sweetness of Bitty’s presence, ignoring the clock for now. 

He’s got plenty of time.

[kkaisarion]

can you hear the rumble

mushy may day 13: thunderstorms. @forlorn-crows thanks for giving me an excuse to write more raindrop

rating: teen pairing: rain/dew word count: 864 summary: rain is determined to help dew enjoy thunderstorms again, just like he did before changing elements

read on AO3 or below

-----------------------------

Most mornings, Rain is slow to wake up, his unconscious brain reluctant to switch back on. But today, his eyes snap wide open right at the break of dawn, his body thrumming with energy. He can feel it in his bones—something big is coming.

He turns his head to the side, where Dew is curled up next to him, fast asleep. Rain really shouldn’t wake him up. He should wait until a more reasonable hour, or else he risks facing the wrath of an angry fire ghoul.

…Fuck it.

“Dew,” Rain says into the silence of the room, his usually quiet voice raised in excitement. “Hey, Dew,” he repeats, and shakes him gently by the shoulder.

Dew cracks his eyes open the tiniest bit and looks around, the bright copper slits eventually landing on Rain’s face.

“Mrrghh,” Dew says. “What, Rainy?”

“Can you feel it? There’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight,” he says brightly.

“What? I—” Dew looks confused at first, but then his face falls. “No,” he sighs quietly. “I’m not in tune with water anymore, remember?”

Rain takes Dew’s hand and holds it to his heart, and focuses hard on channeling the feeling toward the center of his body. He homes in on the sparks of energy and gathers them into a ball, pushing it into Dew’s palm lying warm against his chest.

“How about now?” he asks, a little breathless.

The way that Dew’s eyes light up is answer enough. “Holy shit, it’s just like before,” he whispers in awe. “But even better, because it feels like you, too.”

Rain wasn’t expecting him to say that last part, and it makes an overwhelming wave of affection wash over him. He wants to show Dew even more—to bring him over to the window and throw the curtains open, so that they can look up together at the heavy gray clouds that he knows are hanging in the sky, looming over the abbey grounds like a dark promise.

But then Dew threads his fingers through Rain’s hair and pulls him close, urging him to shift over and lie on top. The two of them move forward at the same time to kiss each other and they start making out lazily, licking into each other’s mouths without caring about their morning breath. Then Rain goes to suck lightly on Dew’s bottom lip, and he lets out a small content noise in response.

The clouds can wait, Rain decides.

-----------------------------

The day passes by unbearably slowly, the hours trickling by so sluggishly that Rain swears time is actually moving backwards. When it finally nears midnight, Rain and Dew walk out of the abbey doors hand in hand. They turn to look at each other and exchange excited grins—they can both feel the electricity of the approaching storm in the air.

They trek into the forest, carefully picking their way around branches and rocks in the dark. They soon draw close to their destination, a small hidden cave overlooking the lake that Mountain scouted out for them earlier. Suddenly, Rain tugs on Dew’s hand and pulls them into a run. They skid into the shelter of the cave just in time—not a moment later, the sky splits open and rain begins to pour down.

Rain and Dew can barely make out the lake through the curtains of rain that are pelting the ground. Rain glances over at Dew and opens his mouth to say something, but his words die in his throat when a flash of lightning illuminates Dew’s face, highlighting the striking angle of his cheekbones and the look of amazement in his eyes. The two of them instinctually huddle together to wait for the looming crack of thunder to shake through them.

They end up sitting on the ground, on top of a blanket that Dew suggested they bring with them. Rain sits cross-legged with Dew in his lap, Dew’s back leaning against Rain’s chest. Feeling hopelessly fond, Rain loops his arms around Dew and presses a kiss into his hair.

Both of them stay quiet as they lose themselves in the sound of the rain hitting the top of the cave, punctuated every so often by the call and response of the lightning and thunder. At one point, a sudden gust of wind makes goosebumps break out on Rain’s bare arms, and he shivers slightly. Dew raises his body temperature in response, and lets out a satisfied sigh when Rain melts into him.

Rain can’t help but feel like the storm is coming down just for them, putting on a show that’s meant to be watched in secret, away from everyone else. Rain wonders if they’ll eventually end up lying down, curled up tight while being lulled to sleep by the steady beat of the rain.

Or more likely, Dew will want them to run all the way back to the abbey, and Rain will get to hear him laugh as they stumble through the mud together and get utterly drenched. It’ll chill Rain to the bone, but he’ll follow Dew out into the cold without a second’s hesitation. Because wherever Dew goes, is where Rain wants to be.

[feyresdaughter]

A Court of Frost and Starlight, chapter Ten - Twelve:

I painted and painted and painted. My heart thundered the entire time, steady as a war-drum. I painted until my back cramped and my stomach gurgled with demands for hot cocoa and dessert. The tower bells of Velaris sang twelve before I stopped. Before I lowered my brush and stared at what I’d created. Stared at what gazed back. Me. Or how I’d been in the Ouroboros, that beast of scale and claw and darkness; rage and joy and cold. All of me. What lurked beneath my skin. I had not run from it. And I did not run from it now. Yes—the first stitch to close a wound. That’s how it felt.

Her first painting, her true self 😭

RHYS POV

A tomb. This place was a tomb.

Cool, now Tamlin just has to die

I smiled. “Oh, no. That was all her. Clever, isn’t she.”

Aw he's so proud

It made no difference. He’d been there that day. Had given his father and brothers the information on where my sister and mother would be waiting for me to meet them. And done nothing to help them as they were butchered. I still saw their heads in those baskets, their faces still etched with fear and pain. And saw them again as I beheld the High Lord of Spring, both of us crowned in the same blood-soaked night.

And people still think Tamlin is getting a redemption arc 🙄

“You brought every bit of this upon yourself,” I said, my voice still soft. I didn’t need to yell to convey my rage. I never had. “You won,” he spat, sitting forward. “You got your mate. Is that not enough?” - “No.” The word echoed through the library. “You nearly destroyed her. In every way possible.” Tamlin bared his teeth. I bared mine back, temper be damned. Let some of my power rumble through the room, the house, the grounds. “She survived it, though. Survived you. And you still felt the need to humiliate her, belittle her. If you meant to win her back, old friend, that wasn’t the wisest route.” - “Get out.” I wasn’t finished. Not even close. “You deserve everything that has befallen you. You deserve this pathetic, empty house, your ravaged lands. I don’t care if you offered that kernel of life to save me, I don’t care if you still love my mate. I don’t care that you saved her from Hybern, or a thousand enemies before that.” The words poured out, cold and steady. “I hope you live the rest of your miserable life alone here. It’s a far more satisfying end than slaughtering you.” Feyre had once arrived at the same decision. I’d agreed with her then, still did, but now I truly understood.

Rhysand was way too nice here

I found Feyre walking home from presumably doing some shopping, a few bags dangling from her gloved hands. Her smile when I landed beside her, snow whipping around us, was like a fist to my heart.

He loves her so much 😭

“Walk home with me,” she said, looping her arm through mine and pressing close. I obeyed, taking the bags from her other hand.

We need more fanart of them just haling hands ok

She smiled broadly. Bright as the full moon, lovelier than any star.

The sound of her laughter danced with me all the way to the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

Feyre can recharge Rhys with just a laugh, she's that powerful

FEYRE POV

“What the hell is that?” Cassian was grinning the next evening as he waved a hand toward the pile of pine boughs dumped on the ornate red rug in the center of the foyer. “Solstice decorations. Straight from the market.” Snow clung to his broad shoulders and dark hair , and his tan cheeks were flushed with cold. “You call that a decoration?” He smirked. “A heap of pine in the middle of the floor is Night Court tradition.” I crossed my arms. “Funny.” - “I’m serious.” I glared, and he laughed. “It’s for the mantels, the banister, and whatever else, smartass. Want to help?”

BIG BRO LITTLE SIS VIBES

I remained where I was and tapped my foot. “What?”he said, brows rising. It was rare to see Cassian in anything but his Illyrian leathers, but the clothes, while not as fine as anything Rhys or Mor usually favored, suited him. “Dumping a bunch of trees at my feet is really how you say hello these days? A little time in that Illyrian camp and you forget all your manners.”Cassian was on me in a second, hoisting me off the ground to twirl me until I was going to be sick. I beat at his chest, cursing at him.

Them 😭😭😭😭 oh I love them so much

Cassian set me down at last. “What’d you get me for Solstice?” I smacked his arm. “A heaping pile of shut the hell up.” He laughed again, and I winked at him. “Hot cocoa or wine?” Cassian curved a wing around me, turning us toward the cellar door. “How many good bottles does little Rhysie have left?”

CASSIAN CURVING HIS WING AROUND FEYRE AND LEADING HER TO THE WINE

We drank two of them before Azriel arrived, took one look at our drunken attempts at decorating, and set about fixing it before anyone else could see the mess we’d made. Lounging on a couch before the birch fire in the living room, we grinned like devils as the shadowsinger straightened the wreaths and garlands we’d chucked over things, swept up pine needles we’d scattered over the carpets, and generally shook his head at everything.

Not them just grinning as they watch Azriel doing the work 😭❤️

“Az, relax for a minute,”Cassian drawled, waving a hand. “Have some wine. Cookies.” - “Take off your coat,”I added, pointing the bottle toward the shadowsinger, who hadn’t even bothered to do so before fixing our mess. Azriel straightened a sagging section of garland over the windowsill. “It’s almost like you two tried to make it as ugly as possible.”Cassian clutched at his heart. “We take offense to that.”Azriel sighed at the ceiling. “Poor Az,”I said, pouring myself another glass. “Wine will make you feel better.”

Them watching Az:

I'm cackling, I love the Feyre and Cassian chaotic energy

Rhys surveyed the room and chuckled. “I can tell exactly which ones you two did, and which ones Azriel tried to fix before I got here.”Azriel was indeed now rubbing his temple. Rhys lifted a brow at me. “I expected better from an artist.”I stuck out my tongue at him.

I LOVE THIS FAMILY AND AZRIEL IS HAVING A HEADACHE LMAO

“It’s cold as hell!” Mor called from the front hall, startling me from the warmth pooling in my core. “And who the hell let Cassian and Feyre decorate?”

The way she IMMEDIATELY knew

She, however, scowled. “You two couldn’t wait until I got here to break into the good wine?” I grinned as Cassian said, “We were just getting started on Rhys’s collection.” Rhys scratched his head. “It is there for anyone to drink, you know. Help yourself to whatever you want.” - “Dangerous words, Rhysand,” Amren warned,

Crime that SJM didn't include Mor in that chaos

She looked—“You look like an angry snowball,” Cassian said. I clamped my lips together to keep the laugh in.

THEHEHEHE

Cassian kissing Elain’s cheek in greeting before he nearly lifted her out of the way to get to the dining table.

“Are you just going to hold that chicken all night?” Cassian asked me from the table. Scowling, I stomped toward him, plunking the platter onto the wooden surface. “I spat in it,” I said sweetly. “Makes it all the more delicious,” Cassian crooned, smiling right back.

SIBLINGS OKAY

“Pig,”Mor supplied. Cassian gave a pointed look to the plate of green beans, chicken, bread, and ham already half eaten on Mor’s plate.

Their bickering is everything

Amren hissed at him, her dark hair swaying like a curtain of liquid night, “Do you know what an inconvenience it is to need to find a place to relieve myself everywhere I go?”A fizzing noise came from Cassian’s side of the table, but I clamped my lips together. Mor gripped my knee beneath the table, her body shaking with the effort of keeping her laugh reined in. I didn’t dare meet Mor’s stare. Or Cassian’s. One look and I’d completely dissolve. Amren waved a hand down at herself. “I should have selected a male form. At least you can whip it out and go wherever you like without having to worry about spilling on—” Cassian lost it. Then Mor. Then me. And even Az, chuckling faintly. “Tell me you know how a toilet works,” Cassian burst out, slapping a broad hand on the table. “Tell me you know that much.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, as if it would push the laugh back in. Across the table, Rhys’s eyes were brighter than stars, his mouth a quivering line as he tried and failed to remain serious.

I want to be there

“I was more drawn to the female form,” Amren answered simply. “I thought it was more symmetrical. It pleased me.” Mor frowned down at her own form, ogling her considerable assets. “True.”

Mhm yeah Mor knows how it is to be drawn to the female form

“Pick on someone your own size,”Cassian said to Amren, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth. “I’d feel bad for the mice,”Azriel muttered.

HOWLING

Winnowing into the freezing street, I pinwheeled my arms to keep upright as my boots slid on the ice coating the stones. Leaning against a lamppost, faelight gilding the talons atop his wings, Rhys chuckled. And didn’t move an inch. “Asshole,”I muttered. “Most males would help their mates if they’re about to break their heads on the ice.”He pushed off the lamppost and prowled toward me, every movement smooth and unhurried. Even now, I’d gladly spend hours just watching him. “I have a feeling that if I had stepped in, you would have bitten my head off for being an overbearing mother hen, as you called me.”I grumbled an answer he chose not to hear.

Feyre cursing at Rhysand and their bickering and Feyre always slamming into things omg

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.149 thoughts

[The Boys Just Call Him “Camouflage”]

[Foreward: So it’s occurred to me that the format of my chapter reviews has pretty much been page-by-page (or sometimes even panel-by-panel) summaries with a little bit of commentary, and honestly that’s not really what I want to be doing with these, so I’m going to try to be a bit more freeform with it this week if I can and see if that’s preferable. Please let me know which style you prefer! On with the review]

This chapter is exactly what I’ve been waiting for! I knew Tozuka would make me like Sean, and I knew he’d do it by leaning into EXACTLY who I thought Sean would be! Sean’s my poor little meow meow now, my cringefail son

It’s really appropriate that Sean views himself as being typecast as a side character when he’s literally the one who’s had the least screen time in the entire series. I think that Lucy’s even had more panels than him by this point, though now that he’s had an entire chapter dedicated to him, that’s probably either just changed or is about to change. Either way, it really reframes his previously minor contribution to the story in a new light, as his inferiority complex for being irrelevant, forgotten, and unseen stretches beyond the ink on the page and into the real world, with his only full bodied appearance prior to this being in his character profile. Man, even by omission, Tozuka is great at characterization!

It’s also interesting that Sean’s tragedy is the first to not actually cause a death (aside from Lucy’s). Yeah, his dad died, but there’s no indication that Sean or Unseen had anything to do with it. The tragedy is more that he’s now barred from living the life he wants as an actor taking center stage and instead is roped into living a life of crime. Of course, this unfortunate path in life is what leads to his untimely demise, which I think may be meant to be his true tragedy: aside from Shen and Rip, he’s the only Negator we ever saw die prior to Ragnarok and the only one not to be in some way revived. He had zero agency, always being dragged by the ear into horrible situations by people who were in charge of their lives, and ultimately died in obscurity, the person who killed him and who he tried to kill not even realizing he was there until he was already bleeding on the ground. Unseen in a supporting role to the very end, and he couldn’t even do that right

Even in this loop, nothing has changed: he’s still unable to perform like he wanted, he still gets dragged into a dangerous place where he can’t seem to do anything of value, and even cosmically the guy can’t even be born when he was supposed to! Sean is the ONLY Negator so far who was “born early” like Fuuko said, at least as far as we can tell, which may or may not be because even Tozuka himself forgot that Sean’s age wasn’t right for fitting him into the story he wanted to tell. Or maybe he did that on purpose to show Sean being batted around even more, who knows

Now, I do really love the confirmation that Fuuko wasn’t actually planning to use Sean in this mission initially. Like I said a couple of weeks ago, it seemed odd that Fuuko stated she wanted two more recruits and ended up with three, so knowing that Fuuko only intended on sheltering Sean so he wouldn’t get hurt helps the logic fall into place. And of course, just like in the previous loop, it’s Sean’s narcissistic need to take center stage that ultimately lands him in hot water, as he insisted that Fuuko bring him along to make use of his Unseen just like he insisted on disobeying Rip when he tried to kill Fuuko previously. Even after worming his way into the mission, he ends up being insubordinate and tries to wave the white flag to save himself, which only pisses off Creed

It’s really appropriate that Sean ends up being a major player in the fight against Creed for a few reasons. For one, they have similar ideologies: both strongly value their team (Creed with his men, Sean with is blood brothers). Second, the context they’re fighting in puts those similar ideologies completely at odds: Creed is trying to protect his men in this moment, but Sean isn’t with his blood brothers, he’s with his captors, and doesn’t want to associate with them, but to Creed, either Sean is a no-good deserter or the Union is rag-tag group who aren’t taking this battle seriously. Third, Sean is incredibly weak by Negator standards, and Creed is definitely on the higher end: this was the same set-up as his battle against Top and Chikara, wherein the two of them had to creatively use their Rules in conjunction with each other in order to overcome Creed’s. The way he’s defeated is even the same, with Top and Sean both using their abilities to come up behind Creed and disable him

The deciding factor for Sean this time, what differentiates his final moments as a member of Under and what are now his starting moments as a member of the Union, is that someone on his time actually sees him for who he is. Rip (and by extension Billy) just saw him as coworker at best and a tool at worst; they didn’t do anything to foster loyalty or to really bring out his potential, they just ordered him around and made him feel even smaller than he already did. Fuuko, however, sees how he can contribute and what insecurities are stopping him from meeting his potential, and tells him the words he needs to hear, that he isn’t just a side character. From a purely narrative standpoint, objectively he is a side character in this series, but thematically Fuuko’s words ring true: Undead Unluck follows Fuuko and Andy, but the two of them are only able to accomplish what they do because of the contributions of others. Everyone gets their time to shine, everyone gets to contribute, everyone has the opportunity to take center stage and become beloved in their own right, even if it takes some time

Isshin seemed uninteresting when she was first introduced because she was just a big faceless lug with no lines, but thanks to Fuuko, Isshin was dragged out of her shell and showed not only what she was capable of, but who she was and how she could grow and change, something that it seems Juiz just wasn’t capable of for whatever reason (that’s something I may go into eventually, but not here). Fuuko has now done the exact same thing with Sean, taking another character I was simply not interested in and made them an instant favorite

I also just really love the symbolism of “take another look at yourself,” and “I tried to turn a blind eye to them.” Unseen’s activation is closing one’s eyes, removing one’s own ability to see so that others cannot see them: Sean wasn’t just hiding from others, he was hiding from himself and refusing to see anyone else. For all his efforts to stand out and be someone important, all he ever managed to do was isolate himself further and further, preventing him from learning the true extent of his ability

As Sean said, he can only make things he views as essential to him invisible; previously we thought it was limited to “things he owned,” but now we see that he can view people as essential as well, going so far as to refer to Fuuko as one of his blood brothers. What’s really fun is that with the ability to turn a teammate invisible, he can now rely on their eyesight to navigate, eliminating his original weakness through the evolution of his ability rather than by finding a shortcut like he did last time. Instead of obsessively trying to surpass his cohorts, he now relies on the support of his friends so that he can in turn support them!

It’s such a perfect evolution for Sean’s character, and as usual, better than I ever dared to hope for! Tozuka always finds a way to surpass my expectations while still giving me pretty much exactly what I asked for. It makes for such a satisfying experience for me in a way that I don’t think any other series has ever done. Medaka Box never even gave me what I asked for this consistently! No wonder Undead Unluck so easily became a favorite on par with Medaka Box for me...

I suppose next week will be the falling action for the Creed battle and will lead into his recruitment, which I suspect will lead to him being an ally for the upcoming recruitment of Billy. I thought it was going to be the other way around, recruiting Billy to overcome Creed, but this definitely makes more sense: Billy was the leader of Under, so he should be the final boss for the Buroja conflict, possibly even finding Disc first. I wonder how exactly the fight with Billy will go...will everyone view him as an enemy except Fuuko, inadvertently giving him a ton of powers all at once? Will Tella master Untell at the perfect moment and protect Billy from the Union? Whatever happens, it’s not going to be an easy fight for the Union, and we’re definitely going to get a lot of interesting insight into his mentality and his past

As always, I’m super excited for next week’s chapter, I just can’t wait!!!

Back to what I said at the beginning of this post, I think I did a good job avoiding simply summarizing the chapter, but man it ended up being just as wordy anyway! I definitely had a lot more fun doing it this way since I feel like I got to express my actual thoughts a lot better than usual, but what do you think? Did you prefer having a recap of the events so you could better understand what actually happened, or do you feel you understand the story itself well enough and appreciate having a deeper dive into the themes instead? Let me know!

[decks-writing-blog]

Letting Moon Know

Summary: Saint tries to tell Looks to the Moon that they've Ascended Five Pebbles.

[A/N] I wanted to tell Moon that Five Pebbles had been Ascended but the game wouldn't let me. So I ultimately ended up writing this instead as part of my winter fics because it takes place in winter so perfect excuse to finally get around to the idea.

~

The cold bit through Saint’s fur. It was starting to seep through their skin and into their bones. They would need to find shelter soon or freeze to death, not the worst way to die but dying at all was unpleasant. First came their current mission though… maybe. Technically it could wait, the iterators had been around for ages. It wouldn’t hurt Looks to the Moon to wait one more Cycle before learning Five Pebbles had Ascended. It felt wrong to put it off any longer than necessary though so Saint kept pressing forward, going as quick as they could to keep themself warm.

Upon finally reaching it, Moon’s chamber was the same as all the other times Saint had been here. This time she sat on her center platform, her neurons hovering around her like a swarm of batfliesover a carcass. Saint shot their tongue up, sticking it to the ceiling so they could swing over the water and land in front of her, drawing her gaze to them.

“Oh, you’re back. Welcome little one.” She meant it as an endearment but Saint didn’t like being referred to in that way. They weren’t little in any sense of the word, even less so now than when she’d last seen them. It didn’t matter enough to be worth the effort to convey that to her though.

After pulling their tongue all the way back in, they brought up the music pearl and placed it on the ground in front of her. Hopefully she would know what it was and more importantly what it meant. She had a right to know.

“You want me to look at this?” She leaned over to pick it up, pulling it close to examine it. A few moments passed before she looked back up at Saint. “You should return this to its owner. He’s probably missing it. He doesn’t have much else left as this point.” Well at least she seemed to know what it was.

Saint accepted it from her as she handed it towards them. They then stood, did a little loop around the platform and placed it in front of her again. With Five Pebbles Ascended, she was its owner now as decreed by Saint giving it to her.

“I’m not the owner. Please bring it back to where you found it.”

Saint repeated the motion, this time placing the pearl down more forcefully.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to communicate.”

That was the problem with communication; it was imprecise and hard to get one’s idea across in its entirety. The lack of the ability to form words when communicating with a being that primarily used words only made it more so.

People were difficult, even annoying sometimes. Saint preferred being alone. But it would be wrong to move on to the next part of their journey without letting Moon know Five Pebbles was finally at peace. They would soon Ascend her too but with her they should be able to convey their intention to do so and have it be understood. Part of that would be her knowing of Pebble’s Ascension.

Saint picked up the pearl again. They moved to the edge of the platform, giving themself just enough room on it to place the pearl in front of themself instead. Sitting, they mimicked Pebbles’ pose as best they could. They sat like that for a bit, putting on a shiver they didn’t even need to fake before going limp, barely stopping themself from falling into the water.

“Are you saying that Five Pebbles is gone? Ascended? Surely that can’t be. Perhaps his puppet was destroyed beyond repair… in this Cycle anyway. He’ll continue in another of course. I suppose nothing changes for me, I was unable to contact him anyway.”

Saint pushed themself back up, grabbed the pearl and placed it in front of her again.

She starred at it silently for a few seconds before picking it up. “What happened exactly? You can’t answer that though, can you, little one?”

They could but it would take time and it was getting rather cold, a storm would soon be on its way. She didn’t understand that Pebbles Ascended but she at least knew he wasn’t present in this world any longer and that was good enough for now. Freeing Saint to leave for the shelter that was thankfully only a short distance away. Next Cycle they would make her understand fully and then they would Ascend her. … Unless she didn’t wish to Ascend. Unlikely as who wouldn’t wish for such a thing? So most likely they would. First came getting out of the cold though.

[nunchigoya]

Chapter 1: Iku

Rain hangs heavy in the clouds. Residuals are so predictable. They always attack in poor weather, but I don’t have time for this. The residual slams its heel into my stomach, bile rises to the back of my throat as I slide back, dirt kicks up around me. The trees we’d already taken out in our fight create a ring around us. Something is wrong.

The residual stands across from me. Tendrils of inky smoke waft off its half-formed body. Half here to finish its final task, and half gone because it takes too much aura to stay where you don’t belong. Its aura presses at my domain. A residual wouldn’t have enough aura to spare to form a domain. While my domain is solid around me, a barrier between me and everything else, my aura weighs on me, slowing me down. My head spins, the world around me slipping in and out of focus. This should be an easy fight. Residuals are weak, barely able to hold their form, let alone have enough power to injure someone as strong as me… but this one did. I press my hand against the slash that burned across my side, blood dribbling over it. Its razor-like fingers curl and uncurl at its sides, ready to take another piece of me. It shouldn’t have been able to touch me at all. I need to end this now. I focus my aura into my side, just enough to keep myself from bleeding out before I can finish this stupid thing off. What a stupid death. Bleeding out. If I had to die before killing my father, then it should have been in the fire. Not here. Not now. Not from something as stupid as bleeding out.

I lunge at the residual, my aura shivering near it. Its own aura pushes against my domain, grazing it with the texture of a rusty blade. Its presence lingers around the gash in my side, jagged and raw. I don’t like this. The residual doesn’t make any vocal sounds, but its aura collides with my domain, ripples of its essence lapping against my invisible walls as if it’s laughing. It strikes out again with its more human hand, nailing me in the side. My cut needs to be cleansed before the residual’s tainted aura infects mine. I reach for my center. There’s more to use inside me. Even if my master wouldn’t agree, I can feel it. An endless pull at my fingertips whenever I needed it.

Don’t take too much, aura is life energy. If you use too much, you’ll have none left to live with.

My master’s words play on a loop in my head. The hundreds of warnings she gave me every time I tried to pull too much from my center.

Know when you are not using enough. You’ll never get stronger playing it safe.

There is more to spare. My aura comes when I reach for it, slithering out from my center where all excess aura is stored. Patiently, I coax it out. The boost it’ll give just on the tips of my fingers when my center clenches and my grasp slips, and I stagger to the side.

“Damn it!” My breath puffs out in ragged gasps. “What’s wrong with me?” My hand presses firmly against my wound to staunch the bleeding. I should be able to take this thing no problem. I’ve seen worse.

It looms over me with its razor hands and its frame twice the width of an average man. Its malicious aura intensifies and the rusted blade-like texture grinds against my domain, threatening to break through if I lose my grip again. I underestimated it. It’s that simple. It’s that stupid.

“Your aura is so strong.” Its voice hisses out in a garbled whisper.

It talks? Residuals can’t usually form vocal cords.

“It’ll keep me full for weeks.” The residual’s aura ripples against mine again and a subtle tug pulls at my center. My aura… it’s… it’s absorbing it! A residual siphon is rare. In my whole life, I had never seen even one. Only heard my own master mention it in passing. A siphon… just my luck.

“That makes more sense.” My knees give out, and I hit the ground, the grass acting as a cushion. “But knowing doesn’t actually help me at this point!” This far… I made it this far, and I couldn’t even win against this weakling? So close.

[j-a-nuary]

Date Roulette: Seunghyun

Saturday

Intro Week Start Seungri Week Start Daesung Week Start Taeyang Week Start Previous Next

I woke up to unfamiliar sheets, pale gold sunlight, and a view of the city center.

And not Seunghyun.

Typically that would not have been a concern, except that I had fallen asleep to television background sound, sofa upholstery, and warm hands on my back.

Sitting up, I immediately reached under my shirt to fix my bra. I was glad that Seunghyun seemed to maintain respect for certain boundaries, but the metal digging into my side momentarily made me wish he hadn't.

After settling my clothing to be at least bearable, I got up and started sneaking around. If my own headache was anything to judge by, I felt that I could safely assume that Seunghyun was also hungover.

As silently as I could, I slipped into the common area. I was on a hunt, a stealthy predator, slinking unseen so…

"Finally awake?"

I jumped so hard that I fell.

"You are like a fucking cat," I complained, slowly clawing my way up from between the loveseat and sofa, "if you're trying to kill me, just say so."

Seunghyun smiled, obviously amused by my misfortune. He walked towards me, pausing to place a mug down on the table, and held a hand out to help me up.

As if I'd give him the satisfaction of accepting his help first thing in the morning.

Ignoring his hand, I pushed myself up using the armrests of the furniture instead.

"Your tea is in the kitchen," he blithely informed me. He took a seat on the sofa, pulling out his phone.

It rankled me, his completely on brand composure. Unbothered, hydrated, reading emails or whatever on his phone.

"Hyun?"

His eyes lifted to me. He hummed in a questioning tone, lifting his mug to his lips.

I flopped onto the loveseat, letting my legs dangle over the armrest. I hooked my neck over the opposite armrest, looking at him at an angle. I tried my best to look cute.

"Can you go get it for me?"

His eyebrow twitched, hinting at his impulse to quip, but he reigned it in. He breathed a small laugh then, shaking his head as he placed his mug onto the coffee table. Standing, he pocketed his phone and let a hand brush over my hair as he stepped past me.

"Of course, baby."

-----

After finishing my tea, I took a quick shower. It was less of a shower and more of a rinsing off the thin layer of sweat that had accumulated in my sleep. I was planning on taking a full, longer than absolutely necessary, bath when we got back to Seoul.

A chill slid down my spine when I thought of that. Despite being an entire adult, an old sense of apprehensive guilt settled over me. It was the sort of feeling I hadn't felt since I had gotten in trouble for finishing fights in high school.

We had disappeared. We had responsibilities, of a sort, that we had severely neglected. Even Taeyang and I had stayed on camera for the full week, and we had literally planned out how to fake enough roll for the show. Seunghyun and I had simply left.

Then again, what was the worst that could happen? They kick me off the show? That actually sounded like a relief.

Still, old habits die hard, and I was the all time champion of beating myself up.

—---

"Did I do something wrong?"

We were about an hour out from Seoul when Seunghyun broke the sleepy silence of the car.

"Hmm?" I blinked slowly, trying to pull myself out of the semi-sleep I had fallen into.

I had reclined my seat and tugged his spare jacket over myself in place of a blanket. The air in the car was warm enough that my head was firmly planted in the clouds of sleep.

Seunghyun hummed, and I could hear the leathery squeak of his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"Earlier," he started, "when I wanted to touch you…"

His words petered out, but he didn't have to finish the sentence.

About five minutes into the drive home, he had casually tried to loop his hand through my arm. It wasn't a bad thing, and was actually endearing in a way. But I had shrugged him off and asked him to please not touch me.

"Ah," I slowly returned the seat to an upright position, "sorry. I should have explained."

"You don't have to," he rushed to reassure me, "I just want to make sure I didn't do something without realizing."

I allowed myself a moment to sweep my eyes over him before answering. Once again, I found myself caught off guard by this little show of kindness. Twisting in my seat, I faced him a little more directly, letting my head tilt to rest against the headrest.

"I'm sorry," I sighed.

He gave me a brief glance. Somehow even that was endearing. It was such a short look. Clearly he didn't want to take his eyes off the road for too long, but he still wanted to keep the conversational connection. It was sweet.

What the hell am I thinking?

"You don't need to apologize," he mumbled to me, but towards his steering wheel.

"I should have explained though," I protested, "sometimes, for no reason, I just don't want to be touched."

I could see him relax.

"Oh," the faintest hint of a blush settled across what I could see of his cheeks, "I get it. I do the same thing sometimes."

-----

"I'll be back soon," Seunghyun squeezed my hand.

"How much trouble are we in?" I asked, holding on tightly.

"Not we," he lifted my hand and pressed his lips to it, "I said I'd take responsibility. Don't worry about it."

"Hyun…"

"No," he shook his head. He released my hand and nodded towards the house, "just wait for me. Everything's going to be fine."

I sighed, but could see that there wasn't much point in arguing. Steeling myself, I pushed the door of the car open and headed up the front walk.

—---

I had expected to be set upon by Daesung as soon as I entered the house, but I was instead greeted by silence. Straining my ears, I was fairly certain the house was empty. There was no electric screech of televisions or monitors. There was no hum of fans, computers, or ventilation. There was… nothing.

It creeped me out a little bit. The house felt abandoned.

"I'm home," I called out.

I was greeted by silence. It was exactly what I wanted, and dreaded.

Despite knowing that I was alone, I tried to be as quiet as possible as I moved through the house. The tension of feeling like I had done something wrong still clung onto my shoulders, tugging the muscles tight.

As soon as I was safely in my room, I dropped my backpack onto my bed and started shedding clothing. As I had planned this morning, I was now on a mission to sink into the oversized bathtub and try to turn off my brain.

I paused, designer shorts - a new gift from Seunghyun - halfway down my legs. How was I going to turn off my brain?

If the house had been a bit closer to where the crater formerly known as my apartment was, I would simply put off the bath until I could go to Minsheng's studio and force some student or other to spar until I was exhausted. But we weren't, and the train and bus ride would sorely cut into my time. I slowly stood up, resecuring the shorts around my waist. It appeared I would have to take a less healthy route.

I looked at the shirt I had unceremoniously dropped onto the ground. Sure, it was a little wrinkled now, as linen was so inclined to do, but the economical part of my brain demanded I put them back on. There was no point in putting on a clean shirt before the bath. That would just be me creating more laundry for myself, and I would only be wearing it for another half hour or so.

Shirt on, wallet dug out of the backpack, and a Pokémon covered bucket hat later, I was back outside. The sun was bright, but not glaring, shining high above a few puffy white clouds. It lent the day a feeling of being inside a child's drawing.

As if conjured by the very thought, an orange cat poked its head out from an alleyway.

"Hi baby," I called out. I slowly bent my knees, crouching to get closer to the cat's level. Digging deep, I tried to summon every ounce of Disney Princess vibes that I could manage.

Apparently it was an adequate amount.

"Hello hello," I babbled as the cat approached me, "aren't you just a sweet baby?"

The cat chirped at me, slinking under my shins and winding between my feet. In an attempt to get the cat used to me, I let one hand hang loosely near my ankles.

Within five minutes, I had the cat crouching on my shoulder as I continued my way towards the corner store. I had no idea what my plan was once I got to the store, but for now I had a cat and that was all that really mattered.

The cat made a curious mrrp in my ear as we walked.

"Just a bit further," I explained, "do you want anything from the store?"

I was rewarded for my conversation with a half purring snuffling directly into my ear.

"Of course," I continued, "chicken or fish?"

-----

Even though I didn't hold onto too much hope that the ginger tabby would actually wait for me outside the store, I picked out two little bags of treats. Chicken and fish. Only the best to fuel my Disney Princess animal companion daydreams.

Treats tucked safely into a little plastic shopping basket, I stared at the variety of drinks that were available.

I thought about trying to be picky, but the very idea made me feel even more drained than I already was. Spotting chamisul fresh, I grabbed two bottles and headed to the cashier. We barely exchanged looks as I was rung up. For a second, I could pretend the last month hadn't happened.

The cat was gone when I stepped back outside.

-----

Back in the house, back in my room, back in the too-big tub, I sprawled out in water that was maybe just a little bit too hot. Steam floated across the surface of the water, whirling and sliding as I disturbed it by bringing the rim of one of the bottles to my lips. It was a potent combination, alcohol and hot water, but that's why I had chosen it.

Now glad for the silence of the house, I hooked the back of my head against the lip of the tub. Humming out a relaxed groan, I tried to let my shoulders loosen. Once they felt like nothing, I worked my way down my body - mentally checking my muscles for tension and trying to release them. The words of an ex, a massage therapist, came to me.

"You hold a lot of your anxiety in your ass and thighs."

There was probably a joke in there somewhere, since he had been an ass that was obsessed with my thighs, but it had been true as well. Kneading the heel of my palms into the sides of my legs, I struggled to relax.

-----

Done with the bath, head still swimming from the heat and alcohol, I pulled out my phone. Opening my messages, I hesitated. The fuzz in my brain put me in a wanting sort of mood, but I wasn't feeling quite bold enough. Settling onto the seat by the vanity, I decided to take the scenic route instead.

To: Zico I want to message Mino.

From: Zico Then why are you messaging me? ㅋㅋㅋ

To: Zico Because I'm unsure of my feelings. And if I message Mino I might be leading him on.

Just like messaging Daesung the night before, I watched typing bubbles pop up and disappear for a moment. I sighed, traipsing into the kitchen to grab one glass full of ice, and another full of water. My phone finally dinged with a new message while I was walking back to my room.

From: Zico I'm in a tough spot now. Should I tell him that you're not sure?

From: Zico I think he already knows the reality of your position.

I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a bubbler. Carefully setting aside the water glass, I filled the ice glass with the rest of the soju. I considered the message, mentally processing my response before letting my fingers touch the screen again.

To: Zico I care about him enough to not want to hurt him.

To: Zico But the reality is that, right now anyway, I may end up dating one of the BigBang members.

To: Zico Of course, it could be that everything happening on the show is even more fake than I know.

A message popped up from Zico, but I was on a roll and kept typing anyway. I may not be a bubbler, but I was definitely a multi-texter.

From: Zico Who do you think you would date?

To: Zico Maybe the show will end and I'll never hear from any of the members again.

To: Zico Maybe I'll never hear from you and Mino again too.

To: Zico Maybe my life will reset to factory settings.

To: Zico I'm scared of being forgotten.

Having finished my ramble, I answered his interrupting question.

To: Zico It's not Jiyong, if that makes you feel any better ㅋㅋㅋ

From: Zico I don't think you'll be forgotten. Not by Mino.

From: Zico And I like having you distract me sometimes too ㅋㅋㅋ

From: Zico Ah, your taste has gotten better then.

From: Zico Seriously, who is it?

Sipping the iced alcohol, I thought about being honest. No. That wouldn't help anything.

To: Zico Wouldn't that be a spoiler? What if you sell our messages to Dispatch?

From: Zico If I wanted Dispatch's money, I'd sell Mino's texts about you ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

From: Zico If you message him, he'll send me one like "Ah! Hyung! She messaged me~~~"

From: Zico Does that answer your question? He'd be happy to hear from you.

From: Zico Just be honest with him.

To: Zico Okay okay.

To: Zico Thank you Zico-yah~♡

From: Zico 🤢🤢🤢

From: Zico Save it for Mino

I snorted to myself and switched to my chat with Mino.

To: Hugeboy Mino

To: Hugeboy Mino mino miiiiii~

Perhaps predictably, his answer was fairly quick.

From: Hugeboy Noonang~♡

From: Hugeboy What have I done to deserve such a cute greeting? \(★ω★)/

To: Hugeboy I was just talking to Zico about you

From: Hugeboy (｡ㅜ ω ㅜ｡)

From: Hugeboy You should just message me

From: Hugeboy Hyung is weird

To: Hugeboy Are you jealous~~? I just wanted his advice

From: Hugeboy I can give you advice too ʕ •̀ ω •́ ʔ

Briefly, I thought back to high school flirtations. Me and my partner-to-be saying things like "so, there's this person I like… kind of reminds me of you…"

Since I had already opened with something cute and a little childish, why not continue?

To: Hugeboy Okay okay

To: Hugeboy I'll ask you too

To: Hugeboy I want to message this guy that I've been flirting with but I'm having a difficult time figuring out my exact feelings

To: Hugeboy I'm in this situation where I'm supposed to be dating these other guys, and the one I want to message is kind of forbidden

From: Hugeboy I don't know if I can be impartial

I snorted at that. At least he was honest.

To: Hugeboy I trust you to do your best for me ♡

To: Hugeboy Sometimes I don't know what I feel about any of them

To: Hugeboy I think I like more than one person and that feels like I'm cheating even though I'm not exclusively seeing any of them

From: Hugeboy |･ω･ʔ

From: Hugeboy Well…….. if I were one of those guys……

I breathed a sigh of relief that he was at the very least indulging my technique of addressing by avoiding.

From: Hugeboy I'd be a little hurt that you have feelings for someone else at the same time

From: Hugeboy But I also know that you can't control that

From: Hugeboy I think it just means that I have to try harder to prove myself

From: Hugeboy …… if I was one of those guys……

How pragmatic. I wondered what hidden stores of maturity were hidden under Mino's emoticon covered exterior.

To: Hugeboy But wouldn't you get mad? Or feel like I was playing with you?

From: Hugeboy Noona

From: Hugeboy No jokes okay?

From: Hugeboy I know about the show

From: Hugeboy I know the whole point of the show

From: Hugeboy It would be more surprising if you didn't feel anything for any of them

From: Hugeboy Do I like it? No

From: Hugeboy But without the show I would never have met you

From: Hugeboy So I'll take the bad because the good is worth it

From: Hugeboy And if you do end up marrying Seunghyun

I snorted again. I had been planning on letting him finish his entire monologue but I couldn't leave that alone.

To: Hugeboy Omg

From: Hugeboy I'll go to the wedding and be happy for you

To: Hugeboy I'm not going to marry Seunghyun

From: Hugeboy Okay but my point is the same

I bit my lip, considering what he was saying.

To: Hugeboy Are you alone? Can I video-call you?

Rather than a typed response, I got an incoming video request. Accepting it, I discarded pleasantries.

"Are you being serious or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?"

Mino's laughter crackled through my phone speakers as his smile swayed in and out of frame.

"Ah, noonaaa…"

"I'm being serious," I exaggerated a pout towards the camera. "Tell me the selfish thing that you think I shouldn't hear."

"Okay, okay," he let out a small grunt as he flopped onto what I vaguely recognized as his sofa.

"The most selfish thing I think about the situation? Hmm…"

He ran his fingers through his hair, then shook his head to fix his bangs.

"Just tell me," I whined.

"I want you to quit the show," Mino chuckled, "is that selfish enough?"

-----

An indeterminate amount of time after Mino had to leave the call for some appointment or other, I was lazily lounging about in the stolen hotel robe. The unmistakable sounds of three to five adult men arriving at once started creeping through the house. Groaning, I rolled onto my stomach, stretching and mentally preparing myself for whatever was about to come.

I heard the familiar shuffle of Taeyang pass by my bedroom door, followed by the creak and click of his own door.

My eyes were drooping dangerously near to napping when a soft knock landed on my door. Three knocks.

Not Seunghyun then.

"Come in," I called out.

As expected, Daesung poked his head into my room.

"Can I come in?"

Rolling onto my side, I couldn't help but laugh at his asking a question I had essentially already answered.

"I just said come in," I smiled up at him.

"Yeah," he took a hesitant step into the room, "but you could have just meant the doorway."

I squinted at him for a second. He looked… shy? Nervous? It was hard to place the exact emotion.

He cleared his throat, dropping his eyes after meeting mine very briefly.

Ah, pitiful and guilty.

"I'm not mad at you," I sat up, tucking the robe a little tighter around myself, "if that's what you're worried about."

"I didn't think you were," he muttered. He stepped into the room properly, closing the door behind him. He sagged against the door, still obviously feeling a bit… something.

"But I've been wrong before," he clarified, "I just…"

I shuffled to the edge of the bed, leaning forward slightly to look up at him.

"You just…?"

His shoulders fell, relaxing slightly before he lifted his arms towards me.

"I missed you."

I grinned, allowing my mouth to fully indulge in a smile from a time before self-consciousness. Resting my elbows on my knees, I tilted my head as I looked up at him.

"You really are spoiled," I said in a hum.

"I'm sorry," he sighed heavily, "about everything."

"It's okay," I shrugged. "You promise you didn't know?"

He licked his lips, a nervous tic.

"It's not so much that I didn't know as it is that I didn't think of it."

I considered his words, leaning back on my palms now.

"I think that's sort of the same thing," I was basically just thinking out loud, "at least neither one is done with malice."

"Pet," Daesung finally, firmly, met my eye, "I would never. I swear. I… hmm…"

I watched him curiously, waiting for an explanation of why he had cut himself off. He wasn't being terribly forthcoming though.

"Go on," I prodded.

"I was just going to say," I could see a blush creeping up his face, "I would never record anything like that…"

He blinked a few times, then shook his head. His hair was loose, not particularly styled. The motion of his head made his bangs fall into his eyes, offering him a sort of barrier while he finished his sentiment.

"Unless it was something that we both agreed to."

"Dae!"

"I'm just saying!" He was trying to sound exasperated, but a self-effacing sort of smile was creeping across his face.

"There's a time and a place," he explained, "and a conversation, for things like that."

"I bet you wanted to listen to it," I bounced my eyebrows at him in a mockery of suggestiveness. "Chul said it sounded pretty good."

"I was there," he shrugged, cheeks deepening in hue, "you definitely sounded good."

I laughed, flattening myself down onto the mattress. After a few seconds, I let out a big sigh.

"I admit that I kind of freaked out."

"Mm," he hummed, "Seunghyun told me."

I popped my head upwards, shooting him a skeptical look.

"He did?"

"Yeah," Daesung grimaced, "he told me I was stupid for not thinking of it, and that I could have caused a major scandal."

"If Chul wasn't so very," I shrugged, letting my head drop back down, "Chul, then yeah."

I shut my eyes, tired of seeing, "that could have been a massive issue."

"So we're okay?"

Lifting one hand, I blindly waved for him to come closer.

A slow shuffling sound later, I felt the slight thump of his legs hitting the side of the mattress.

I waved my hand more insistently.

I heard him let out an amused puff of air, then felt the mattress dip next to me. Keeping my eyes closed, I wormed my hand around until I found his. Looping my fingers through his, I tugged on it slightly.

My reward was feeling him lay next to me. I reached across my body to pull him closer.

He laughed again as he arranged himself. Head on my shoulder, arm around my waist, one leg resting slightly on my own.

I bent the arm he was resting on to run my fingers through his hair.

"I think we're okay."

"Good," Daesung mumbled into my neck. There was a pause, and then…

"Permission to flirt?"

I laughed.

"Granted."

My allowance was rewarded by his hand slipping under my robe and just… laying there. It wasn't so much a flirtation as it seemed to be a self-soothing cuddle move.

"That was somewhat more tame than I expected," I pointed out.

"I'm tired," I felt his arm shift, most likely from a shrug, "I was worried about you for the last few nights."

I didn't laugh so much as I let out a brief puff of air.

"You said Seunghyun is safe though."

"Yeah but what if something had happened?" He squirmed next to me, eventually propping his elbow against the mattress. Resting his head on his hand, he looked down at me with a look that made me soften, but feel incredibly nervous at the same time.

I resisted the urge to push him away, knowing that it was a trauma response and that I wasn't actually in danger.

He explained his anxiety.

"What if you got in a car crash?"

Another puff escaped me.

"A car crash involving any of you boys would be national news immediately."

"Okay," he nodded, "what if some crazy fan tricked you or took you?"

"Tricked me?" I questioned.

"Yeah," Daesung's eyebrows curled down his face, "are you telling me that if," he shrugged again, "I don't know. If someone told you that they needed help, would you not go with them?"

Looking up at his worried face, I felt my impulse to flee lessen. Craning my neck upwards, I missed his lips but still managed to kiss his chin.

"The only people who would ask a foreigner for help would be another foreigner or a cult member trying to recruit. I would probably reach out to the police or something."

He leaned down to press his lips against mine, before leaning away and frowning deeper.

"Don't try to distract me."

I grinned. Distracting him seemed like a fine idea. Rolling onto my side slightly, I tried to weave my way to lay my lips against his neck.

He forged ahead regardless.

"What if they said 'oh my child is in danger, come quick'? You…" he faltered when my teeth scraped against his skin.

"Yo… you try to seem cool a-and tough but I know you wouldn't be ah… ah fuck… able to walk away."

I hummed, deciding to push against him with my hand.

His body resisted for a second before he laid back flat.

Shuffling onto my knees, I followed his motion. I was able to keep my mouth approximately on his neck, as I swung one leg over his body.

"P-ehh…" His use of the nickname morphed into a stifled moan as I bit down a little harder on his shoulder.

I sat up and just took him in.

A few twisted strands of hair splayed across his forehead. His lips were parted as he scrunched his eyes shut, and I was hit by a fleeting moment of jealousy. In a similar position, my own somewhat bucked teeth would be showing, but his mouth revealed nothing but a flash of sweet salmon pink when his tongue flicked forward to wet his lips.

"Pet," he half-hummed the word out, "I just told you not to distract me."

"Mm-hmm," I bent down and briefly tapped my lips against his, "and before that you asked for permission to flirt."

I laid another quick kiss, this time against his cheek.

"I'm kind of getting mixed signals, Dae."

He drew a deep breath and let it out through his nose before opening his eyes and responding.

"Did you miss me?"

He raised a hand as he spoke, pushing back the hair in my face. As if it was the most natural conclusion in the world for the motion, his fingers swooped down and brushed against my cheekbone, eventually landing on my lower lip.

I parted my lips, teasing by biting the tip of my tongue between my teeth without truly interacting with his hand.

"Was I supposed to miss you?"

Daesung groaned, dropping his hand to the mattress and pouting up at me.

"Now who's sending mixed signals, pet?"

I smiled at him, gripping the belt of my robe and making a point to be obvious while playing with it.

"Dae," I started.

"Hmm?"

"Now, be honest with me, okay?"

His hands slid, half flirtatious, half reassuring, up my thighs.

"Of course, pet."

"And I won't be mad if you say no…"

He smiled up at me, squeezing my legs slightly.

"Just ask me, pet. You can ask me anything."

I nodded, putting on what I hoped was a playful pout.

"How would you feel about having your hands tied to the bedpost while I rode you?"

There was a beat of silence. Then his hands tightened on my legs and he used his legs to push his body somewhat diagonal across the mattress. Once he was satisfied with his position, he dropped his hands from my legs and slid them above his head, gripping one of the corner posts.

"How could I ever deny you, my pet?"

I shot him a bright smile.

"Good to know."

I climbed off of him, undoing the knot that kept the robe secured around my body. Turning away, I spoke again.

"Now I should probably get dressed," I walked into the giant closet, "I'm really being pretty lazy today."

I heard a strained groan behind me, but Daesung didn't complain.

I was in a skirt and bra by the time he joined me in the closet. Internally, a battle raged between my desire to continue teasing him and the urge to simply bend over the accessory case in the middle of the closet.

"Pet?"

I glanced at him. His eyes seemed to be tracing over the lines of ink that littered my body. The urge to bend over got the upper hand for a moment.

"Yes?" I smiled at him, but turned my attention back to my shirt selection. My heart wasn't in the search though.

"I know I have permission to flirt," he stepped closer, slowly crowding into my space, "but permission to touch?"

He was close enough that I was able to lean back against him. Doing so, I reached up and slid my fingers into his hair.

"Granted."

While Daesung cleaned himself up in the oversized bathroom, I finally finished getting dressed. Or re-dressed. Technically.

The skirt was abandoned, having already played its part for the…

I checked my phone. 16:42. The skirt had played its part for the late afternoon.

Sitting on the stool by the vanity, I checked my phone.

There was one message from Zico. A screenshot of his chat with Mino, accompanied with the caption "I told you".

The image showed a series of excited emoticons from Mino, followed by two screenshots of my own messages to him.

From: ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡ Mino Mino miiiiii~

and

From: ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡  I trust you to do your best for me ♡

were visible, followed by Mino saying "im so fucked" and several more, now heart filled, emoticons.

I couldn't help but laugh at Zico's response to him at the bottom of the image.

"A little respect for your very single hyung please"

Moving on from that, I opened a message from Seunghyun.

From: Seunghyun Dinner?

I heard the bathroom door open behind me. Typing out a reply, I listened as Daesung approached me from behind.

To: Seunghyun What time?

I felt his hand ruffle my hair.

From: Seunghyun I can be ready in ten. Do you need more time?

"Hmm," Daesung's hand fell to my shoulder, squeezing slightly, "leaving me for your fiance so soon?"

"Shut up," I tried to imbue my words with the power of my eye roll.

To: Seunghyun I'm all set, as long as it's casual. Half an hour?

"Ah, pet," Daesung whined, "and here I was convinced I was special."

From: Seunghyun Okay.

"Dae," I laid my phone on the vanity and turned in my seat, "you know I'm not g-"

I was cut off by his lips descending onto mine.

Again.

"I'm teasing you," he mumbled against my mouth, "I don't mind, pet."

I hummed, just letting myself enjoy the feel of his kiss. After a moment, I couldn’t help but poke a little fun at him. Pulling back, resisting the slight pull of his hand at the back of my neck, I smiled up at him.

“You only don’t mind because of your fantasy of being the other man.”

Daesung laughed, standing up straight and raising his hand to his face in an embarrassed gesture.

“Aha, you know me too well, pet.”

“You two are like a coin,” I stood from my seat, reaching up to ruffle my fingers through his hair lightly.

His eyebrows flicked together for a moment, and he tilted his head.

“What do you mean?”

I shrugged, somewhat distracted by the smooth feeling of his hair against my fingers.

“You like being the other man, and he claims he doesn’t mind sharing.” I frowned, still focusing on the silky sensation in my hand, “though, I have no idea if he exactly likes it, you know? The same way you do.”

Daesung was quiet for a moment. Then a moment longer than that. I dropped my eyes from his hair to meet his gaze.

His eyelids were fluttering softly, and there was a blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Does it feel good?" I didn't bother holding back my smile.

A small hum and a nod were the only answers I received. After a moment he shook his head and pulled away from my hands.

"Wait…" he shook his head again, "what did Seunghyun say?"

"How about katsu?" Seunghyun suggested.

We had decided to go for a walk and figure out dinner along the way.

"Honestly, and I don't even know if this is a thing here," I started, turning to walk backwards as I spoke, "but for some reason all I can think of is a salad bar."

He reached out to take my arm, directing me around another pedestrian.

"A salad bar?"

It was a little hard to tell if his tone was one of confusion at the concept or at my having a salad craving.

"Yeah," I nodded, "you go and there's bowls of different salad mixes," I made circles with my hands as I spoke, "and then all the different toppings," I made a sprinkling motion with my left hand over my right's flat palm, "and you make your own salad."

Seunghyun’s entire head rocked back as he laughed.

"I know what a salad bar is," he said, "I just figured you haven't really eaten all day. I thought you'd want something more substantial."

I nodded, spinning again to face forward.

"You might have a point. But I haven't had a chance to work out lately, so I'm trying to be mindful."

He made a sound of understanding from behind me.

I felt his hand slip into mine.

"Also I just like salad," I shrugged, "as long as it's interesting."

"Okay," he agreed. He tugged on my hand to get me to stop for a moment.

Turning to face him again, I saw his phone in his other hand.

"Let me search for salads nearby."

After dinner and walking back to the house, Seunghyun sat on the floor of my room. He leaned back against the side of the bed while I tried to remember why I had even bought charcoal in the first place.

"You okay?"

I wasn't sure if Seunghyun was asking about me, the singular entity, or about me as pertaining to… literally everything about my life at that moment.

"I'm okay," it was true enough regardless of the unspoken details of his question.

He nodded slowly, careful not to disturb his pose too much.

My sketchbook wasn't supposed to be full of anything that meant anything. Poses weren't really the point. Still, I appreciated the gesture.

"How much trouble did you get into?" I asked, half out of curiosity and half just to fill the silence of the room.

"Not much," he shrugged, "I just told a version of the truth."

"Which version?"

"I told them that I had wanted to come clean with you about my past scandals," he smiled softly.

"I see…" the smile was small - self contained enough that it didn't deform the rest of his face. I could have easily capture it with some brief strokes, if the inconsistent black stick in my hand didn't tend to smudge so much.

"And of course I didn't want to do that on camera," he explained, "that would pressure you into accepting me. I wanted you to be able to be honest in your reaction."

"Ah," I nodded, working on copying the crease of his shirt now, "so you lied."

Seunghyun adopted a humorously offended expression.

"Where's the lie? I told you about my scandal," he dropped his pose and started moving. "I wanted you to be comfortable without cameras," on his knees now, he shuffled towards me. Once close enough, he took the sketchpad out of my hand. Path clear, he rested his head against my knee, sideways, staring at nothing, "and I always want your honest reaction."

"Hyun," my fingers fell naturally into his hair, "how can you talk about honesty when you know it didn't happen that way?"

He hummed, closing his eyes as my fingers worked over his scalp.

"Mmm… that's why it's a version of the truth."

We stayed there for a while, just soaking up the soft skinship.

"Baby…"

"Yes, Hyun?"

He shook his head from my hand, turning his head to look up at me.

"Will you kiss me?"

His tone was… off, somehow. Like he wasn't making a request, he was asking a question.

"What?" I probed for more information.

"I mean," he made a grumbling hum sound before continuing.

"I think I'm always the one kissing you. I always start it."

He shifted his head, turning so that his chin rested on my knee now. Looking up at me, he huffed.

"That's fine, if that's what you prefer. But I feel like maybe I've been pressuring you too much."

"I mean," I shrugged, brushing his bangs from his face, "you do propose to me at least once a day."

He pouted. Honest to god pouted. Like a scolded child.

"Baby, that's because I want to marry you."

I let my hand sweep down to cradle his face. Tucking a fingertip or two under his jawline, I gently pulled. He followed my unspoken command willingly, fumbling slightly as he rose to securely kneel before my seat.

I wanted to say something quippy. Something playful, and maybe a little bit mean. Nothing came to mind though.

Instead, I leaned forward and down. Holding his chin in my palm, I pressed my lips to his.

A sighing moan escaped his throat. He sagged slightly in my grip, seeming to melt into the kiss.

Pulling back, I swiped my thumb over his lips. His eyes stayed closed as his mouth fell open at the sensation.

"Are you satisfied now, Hyun?"

His eyebrows drew together in a frown, but he nodded.

I kept my hand on his chin and lifted the other to trace a finger over his brows.

"You don't seem satisfied."

His eyes slowly flicked open, a small pout forming on his lips.

"Marry me."

"Hyun…" I knew I didn't need to finish the thought.

"I know, I know."

That pout still rested on his face, luring me in.

I pulled his chin towards me again. This time, I pressed a bit harder against his mouth. The sound he made was somewhat strangled, stuck in his throat with surprise.

It did something to me. I tugged at his lower lip with my teeth.

That managed to pull a surprisingly high pitched noise from his throat. Less of a moan and more of a whimper.

I felt him tug back, and against my instinct I let him go.

"Baby, I-"

Nope. I recognized the tone of his voice. That overthinking tone. The self-denial tone. The tone he used the night of the fire.

"Shush, Hyun," I pressed my lips to his again, just briefly this time, "I thought you wanted me to kiss you."

"I do," he whined, "but y-"

I quieted him again, using another kiss to derail his train of thought.

My own train of thought was a heated argument. Thoughts of what Daesung and I had done in the closet earlier served as fodder for both the argument for continuing, and the argument for stopping. My… situationship with Mino also flit through my mind.

But again I reminded myself that I was not truly bound to anyone. I am single. I haven't said anything to anyone that might make them believe otherwise. I have been explicitly honest with ev…

Seunghyun whimpered again, breaking me out of my mini crisis.

I pulled back slightly, looking down at him.

"You okay?"

He nodded before tilting backwards, out of my reach. Landing somewhat in a sitting position on the floor, his chest heaved dramatically.

"I'm fine," he reassured me. He swallowed hard before continuing.

"I should go."

He didn't move.

"Why's that?" I leaned forward as I asked.

"Because…" he faltered as I kept moving closer to him, "well…"

I slid off the chair, knees landing on either side of his tangled legs.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked as I crawled closer to him.

He shook his head, eyes trained on mine as I invaded his space.

Finally near enough, I sat myself in his lap and again placed two fingers under his chin. Dipping forward, I paused before kissing him again.

"I think you might like me."

I didn't give him a chance to respond, pressing my lips to his and listening to him whine again.

For a second, I thought he was going to pull away again. But his hands anchored themselves against me, one on the back of my neck, the other on my back, as he moved. Tugging slightly, he pulled me down along with him as he laid flat on the floor.

Probably about twenty minutes later, there was enough of a break for me to sit up again.

"Hyun…"

I resisted the urge to slip my fingers under his shirt.

His hands ran up and down my forearms, nails lightly scratching my skin.

"Yes baby?"

"You should probably get going."

His hands paused, then resumed their action.

"You'll have to get up first," he smiled as he said it. A joke of some kind.

I nodded and stood up. Leaning forward, I offered him my hand to help him up.

He gripped it easily enough, and was soon standing next to me. He turned and looked at me, mouth parted as if he was going to speak.

He didn't say anything.

Somehow, despite all of our talks and touches and everything else lately, the air grew rigid with awkwardness between us.

"Was that…" I started, faltering under the pressure of the building tension, "was that okay?"

"Ah," Seunghyun nodded, slipping into one of his many personal, "I guess that's why you won't marry me."

I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue.

"That's okay," he smiled at me, teasing, "the awkwardness will fade."

He leaned forward, our roles well and truly reversed now.

"I think you should kiss me more often," he grinned, "baby."

"Oh my god," I groaned, pushing his shoulder, "go away."

He caught my hand, wrapping his other arm around my waist.

"Yes," he softly nodded, "that was fine, baby."

Seunghyun pressed his lips against my cheek before speaking again.

"I'm sorry for joking."

"It's okay," I mumbled, wishing I wasn't blushing.

"I still want you to marry me," he tilted his head, trying to meet my downturned gaze, "no jokes."

“Shut up.”

“No.”

[ak4rin]

( frisky business )

( frisky business ) our muses have sneaky sex at one of their places of work + ( steamy windows ) our muses can't make it out of the car without steaming up the windows and finding interesting positions to get into while having sex in the car

she knows he never doubts her, but she can't miss the way he appears to her when least expected, the excuse that he wants to be helpful always ready - this assignment only needed one sorcerer, the grade three cursed spirit exorcised fairly easily even with her leg still recovering. "you don't need to babysit me," she greets, car keys fished from pocket of her blazer and to open the car. "and don't sit on the hood, you'll break her." she's only joking, eyes rolling when innuendo is met with another from asaki.

she's just about to slide in the driver's seat when he pulls her toward him, akari letting him just because she's resigned to the idea of going against his whims ( she wouldn't know how to that even if she wanted to anyway ). "i have to get back to the office ..." but he's already tracing kisses on her neck as he pulls her close and towards the door of the backseats, devilish grin as he assures in between kisses that they won't take long. blue hues scan around the empty parking lot in front of the building she's just come out from - almost late evening and no soul around to see them ... indulging just a little doesn't seem such a dread with these premises.

arms loop around his neck to pull him into a kiss, stumbling backwards to open the door and let herself in. she's so so glad summer attire has finally made an appearance in the office after being requested for so longs, free hand hiking up her skirt on one side while she lets asaki deal with the other after closing the door. cramped up doesn't even begin to explain their state at the moment, one hand raised as a cushion against the door so he doesn't hit his head. "you're too tall for this," she teases, yet how eager she is to unbuckle his belt and unzip him - her hand easily slipping in to palm at his bulge. "did you miss me?" another taunt as she grinds against him. "kinda feels like you did."

impatience never their strong suit, she lets him tear through her dark pantyhose, hoping to find a replacement somewhere on their way back to the office later. her mouth is back on his as she pulls his pants down, her own panties slid aside to give him access. for a moment she's glad he knows her so well, making sure to make his entrance as less painful as possible due to the short time available in their hands. a gasp leaves her lips when he enters her, a few second to adjust as eyes close, the fluttering of her walls signalling to move further.

"fuck, yeah right there ..." he knows her body by heart, how to make sure they both get off in this little escapade of theirs. a faint layer of fog begins to form the more they move, the idea of someone seeing the way her car bounces only making her clench tighter around him. "baby we need to make it faster," she tells him between pants, attempting to pull him away so that she can get on top. she finally sits up, guiding asaki to sit in the center of the backseats, leg spread against each side of the front seat to give her something stable to sit on.

there's a loud moan when she slides back on his length, hands gripping at his shoulders for balance while he holds her ass. "just a little-" words die in her throat, her body bouncing up and down to the point she's bracing against his neck for dear life, faces so close against each other that his intoxicating scent is all that fills her nostrils. she keeps bouncing as she takes in the praises, her own muttered against his ear to drive him further to the edge - the most handsome, my one and only, pretty words scattered among the filthiest sounds.

she wants to be his good girl so bad, cum thick rings along his length to show him how much he's wanted and desired. their rhythms ragged and stammering as they get close, the mess they made in the car hard to go unnoticed at this point. his hands find place at her hips to keep her steady, hot seed spurted inside without much of a thought after begging him over and over to make her his. they ride each other down their orgasms, deep breaths as gazes meet. there's a curse sitting at the tip of her tongue, swallowed just for now in exchange for three words spoken so softly. "well, thanks to you now i need a shower."

[babydinojojo]

Day 3/ Entry 3

Okay... maybe I've gotten way too mad at myself last night. I can't really sleep right now so i guess Imma write in here for a bit and then i'm gonna go back to sleep.

Okay forget what i said about the google doc, I will try my absolute best to remember to tell her shit alright, she still loves you Jordan you just need to let go sometimes yk. Okay anyway the Class 700 came out for Train Sim World 3 today so Im gonna be checking that out today. I wonder what skin i should Make for minecraft cause i need something completely original and no i don't wanna use AI cause that's gonna be the death of us Istfg, I don't know it's just i get a mega bad feeling even when i see AI chatbots and shit like they just make me scared for some reason and the fact that its ramping up faster and faster everyday makes me worry about the future... I DON'T WANNA DIE BY A ROBOT, I JUST WANNA LIVE A FULL LIFE AND SEE MY GF KRISY AND HAVE A LIFE WITH HER, NOT JUST DIE BY SOME DAMN ROBOT. Anyway tho I have an off day today surprsingly oh wait i forgot that i didnt have work today and i thought i overslept ;-; bruh, I keep forgetting shit. Which brings me to my next topic

I think i finally might know why i keep forgetting things, I just got way too much going on in the background to remember, I have a short attention span so it's probably because work is making me do more and more shit. Except the past two work days, where we did ABSOLUTELY nothing after my lunch break. That's time where I could have been texting Krisy and spending time with her, but its whatever tho. Oh yea funny story tho from Yesterday lol, Soooo i was on an R62A 6 Train right, and i was riding the City Hall Loop and everything went all and according to plan until we skipped the Fucking Uptown Platform, it went non-stop and i was lowkey panicking cause yea i thought i was on an Out of Service dehead, thankfully we stopped at Canal street, Yea im not gonna be doing the loop after that, speaking of the 6 Train, them R62As are extremely underrated as fuck, for trains that started on the 6 as Single units and then ended up on the 7 and then came back in 2015-2016, they are pretty fast and underrated for a local train.

While we are on the topic of my gf, I think i found some places I would like to show her around

-Brooklyn Bridge Park/Pier

-Barnes and Nobles in Downtown Brooklyn

-Ride around the City Hall Loop and show her the Abandoned City Hall Station which looks absolutely amazing to this day

-Dave and Busters TSQ/Gateway Mall

-Queens Center Mall

Okay yea that's a good list and a good start

Speaking of last night, like I said before i got way WAY too mad at myself last night. Damn.. I never realized how hard I am on myself especially for her. Okay I realize that i need to sometimes let things go, I can't be to hard on myself cause thats gonna end up destroying my confidence and make me start self harming, hasnt happened yet but still, i just gotta breath and chill the fuck out.

On a side note tho, im not sure why but for some reason i have a massive pet peeve when someone uses "Ok" or "K" or "Mk" instead of just saying "Okay" or "Alright. I don't know its just "Ok" or "K" Just seem way more cold and distant, and no in my opinion are not the goddamn same as "Okay"/"Alr"/"Kay"/"M'kay" Its just fucking not the same, like bro next person who "Ok" or "K" me im gonna end up getting pissed at them. Okay fine i'll admit i had way too many people, and no before you ask Krisy is not apart of those people, but still too many people try to pull that dry shit and it always send the goddamn wrong message cause i end up thinking something is the goddamn matter with them, like i said "Ok" and "K" are NOT the same as "Okay" and "Kay" or "Alright"/"Alr"

Well that's all i got for now, lets see where the day takes us shall we

[bristark616]

multiversal soulmates - part five

pairing: tasm!peter parker x stark!avenger!reader

word count: about 2k

summary: (y/n) is determined to bring her peter back, and she's getting closer than ever.

warnings: none i think!!!

a/n: HI BESTIES!!! i'm so beyond sorry that this took so long to get out but thank you thank you thank you for all of your love and patience in the meantime. i think there's only going to be one more part after this so im excited to wrap this up with yall!!!! enjoy and ily all <33

“Peter!”

Tony was at his daughter’s side in seconds – her abrupt awakening pulling him from his work. He asked her if she was okay, but she didn’t hear him. She was too busy examining a silver, spiderweb ring on her finger that Tony was positive wasn’t there before she fell asleep. 

“Holy shit,” she whispered, her eyes wide as she stared down at her hand. She pulled the ring off her finger and examined it with a hold so gentle that it was obvious to Tony that she was afraid she would break it. “It worked.”

“Where did that come from?” He asked, looking down at it curiously. 

“Peter gave it to me in my dream – well I guess it wasn’t really a dream.”

“You were here the whole time, though,” Tony said. “You didn’t leave that couch.”

“Did you change anything while I was asleep?”

“I just tinkered with your formula a bit – “

She was on her feet in seconds, making her way over to her desk and throwing herself into her chair with an eagerness so intense that she rolled off course slightly. He watched from over her shoulder as she essentially tore apart the plans, looking for any change that proved to be significant. She must’ve found something because she was back on her feet at once. He followed her out of her laboratory and through the dimly lit, deserted halls of the compound – the sound of her bare feet slapping against the marble floors echoing out around them. She led them right to – 

“The quantum tunnel?” Tony questioned, looking around with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. (Y/N) was tapping away at the control panel in concentrated silence, so Tony simply watched from over her shoulder. 

“Got it,” she mumbled, stepping back to admire her work. 

“Talk to me, kid; I don’t like not being in the loop.”

“I just recalibrated the tunnel,” she said. She took the spiderweb ring off of her finger and placed it gently onto the control panel. “I think we can use it for multiversal travel instead of time travel.”

“But how would we find the right universe? It’s not like we have someone or something to guide us – the ring. You are a genius.”

“Let’s see if it actually works, first. I’m gonna get this ready, why don’t you go suit up and grab backup in case we get any unwanted visitors.”

Barely ten minutes later, Tony returned with Rhodey. Both men were suited up, minus their helmets. 

“Hey, kid,” Rhodey said with a smile. “Nice to see you up and about.”

“Hi,” was all she said in response, unable to mirror his expression. She didn’t want herself to get optimistic for even a second in case the plan didn’t work. “Thanks for helping.”

“Anything for you.”

“Before we start,” Tony said, grabbing (Y/N’s) arm carefully to stop her from activating the tunnel, “I just have a quick question, and please don’t take it the wrong way.”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

Tony had that fatherly look in his eyes as he studied her. “Are you absolutely sure that he’s worth all of this?”

“Yes.” Her answer was strong and had left her lips before Tony had even finished his sentence. “Yes, he is.”

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded, turning back to the control panel. “FRIDAY, are we ready?”

“All set, boss.”

“Let her rip.”

The quantum tunnel powered up with a loud whooshing noise. The center glowed a bright orange and the three Avengers had to look away. After about a minute, the noise started to die down. Neither Tony nor Rhodey was fast enough to stop (Y/N) from running to the center of the tunnel. She stepped off of the platform holding a worn, black backpack in her hands.

“It pulled something,” she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “But not Peter.”

“Check the bag,” Rhodey suggested, but she was already on it. 

She plopped down onto the floor next to the control panel and rummaged through the contents of the backpack. She found some clothes, a glasses case, and a camera. It was a film camera, not a digital one, which she thought odd, seeing as no one really used those anymore. She turned it over in her hands and her heart nearly stopped as she read the inscription on the back. 

“Property of Peter Parker,” she read, a smile forming at her lips. “Do it again.”

Tony didn’t need to be asked twice. He took his daughter’s former place at the control panel and fired up the tunnel once more. Rhodey’s fists were clenched at his sides, ready to fight whoever or whatever came out from the other side if they proved to be a threat. (Y/N) tried to keep her eyes on the tunnel, searching for any sign of Peter, but again, it was too bright to look at. The light and the whooshing died down, and she was just about to declare the second trial a bust when it happened.

            Peter came flying out of the tunnel in a blur of red and blue fabric, right to where she was standing. It all happened so fast that he didn’t have time to break his fall, but he did manage to grab her and flip them over, so that she fell onto him, which he assumed would hurt her significantly less than the reverse. The two let out groans as they fell against the hard, white, marble floor. 

“Oh, that sucked,” Peter winced. He reached up to pull his mask off of his head. “You all right, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, breathless as she stared down at Peter. “Are you?”

“I am now.”

(Y/N) laughed happily as Peter leaned up and crashed his lips to hers. They didn’t pull apart for even a second – not even as he shot a web up to the ceiling with one hand and pulled them up to a standing position. Peter leaned down and grabbed her by the underside of her thighs, lifting her up into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. 

“Easy there, bug boy,” she smiled, pulling apart to look at him. 

Peter laughed. “What did you just call me?”

“Bug boy – “

He cut her off with another kiss, all noses and teeth as they smiled against one another’s mouths. “I missed you,” he whispered into her mouth. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

They pulled apart again, allowing their foreheads to press together. They took in the feeling of being in one another’s arms. Peter practically melted as she ran her hands along his upper arms, settling around his biceps with a firm but gentle grip. 

“You know, I’ve thought about you every second of every day since I got sent back,” he said, his eyes pouring down into hers, “and yet, somehow, you are even more beautiful than I remembered.”

“Peter –“

He cut her off with a kiss. “I love the sound of my name on your lips,” he mumbled into her mouth. “Say it again.”

“Peter,” she giggled, pulling apart once more. Her hands rubbed into his shoulder blades while she looked at him, and her green eyes were practically sparkling with love. “You can let me go now, you know.”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “No – I am never letting you go.”

“You have to let me go sometimes.”

“Nope. Don’t think so.”

“Like when I got to the bathroom –“ he shook his head, “and shower –“ another head shake, “and drive.”

“Nope.”

“What do you mean nope?” She giggled, a small squeak escaping her when he threw her up gently, securing her tighter against his chest. 

“I mean, you’re gonna have to find another way to do those things because I am not letting you go.”

“Okay. You don’t have to let me go, but can you put me down?” She asked sweetly. “Please?”

He studied her carefully, still baring a smile. “For now.”

Peter’s grip on her laxed but didn’t let up completely. He supported her effortlessly as she untangled her ankles from his waist before dropping down from his arms. Once her feet were firmly planted to the ground, he pulled her tight against his chest for a hug. 

“Not to interrupt,” Tony’s voice said, to which the two jumped slightly, “but you guys might wanna step away from the big, dangerous, quantum tunnel.”

Silently agreeing with him, (Y/N) grabbed Peter’s hand and led him off the platform and over to the control panel, where both Rhodey and Tony were standing. Tony had rid himself of his suit the moment (Y/N) had wrapped herself up in Peter’s arms, no longer feeling a need to wear it given the success of the experiment.

“Peter, this is my dad,” She introduced, falling into Peter’s side as he slipped an arm around her. “Dad, this is Peter.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Peter,” Tony smiled.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Stark. I, uh – I’m a big fan of your daughter.”

Tony laughed. “I’ve noticed.”

Ignoring the blush at her cheeks, (Y/N) turned to introduce Peter and Rhodey. It wasn’t until after the niceties were exchanged did Peter get a good look at the room he had just appeared in. His eyes were wide as he walked around to inspect the items around them. (Y/N) had no choice but to follow his every move, as he had refused to let go of her hand.

“This place is a dream,” he breathed, an excited smile at his lips. “Like, science heaven.” He turned to his girlfriend. “What is this place?”

“The Avengers Compound.”

“That’s the team you and Peter were telling me about, right?” He asked, to which she nodded. “So you all live here?”

“Most of us – not Peter,” she quickly added, seeing him perk up. “He’s in Queens with May.”

“Right, right. Okay, and where are we?”

“Upstate. About thirty-five minutes outside Manhattan.”

“That would explain why it’s so quiet.”

She smiled. “You all right, Pete? Didn’t get banged up on the commute over, did you?”

“All good, ladybug,” he said happily, mirroring her expression. He gave a light tug on her hand to pull her into his arms. 

Tony and Rhodey looked at one another and simultaneously mouthed “ladybug,” clearly amused at the nickname. The former was going to say something snarky to the two, but when he glanced back over at them, he stopped himself. Peter had his eyes squeezed shut as he held (Y/N) tight against his chest, as if he was afraid she’d vanish if he let go. She clearly must’ve been feeling the same because she was returning Peter’s embrace with a similar strength. It wasn’t until that moment did Tony finally understand his daughter’s longing to bring Peter back. Seeing them together cemented everything she had told him: they were indubitably soulmates.

(Y/N) lifted her head up from Peter’s chest to look up at him. Peter wiped a tear from her cheek with a spandex-clad thumb. He peppered kisses down her face – from her forehead to her nose to the apples of her cheeks to her mouth. A quiet giggle fell from her lips as Peter’s hair tickled her jaw when he ducked his head down to press a kiss to her neck. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against her skin. Lowering his voice so that only she could hear, he said, “I don’t ever wanna stop kissing you.”

She lifted his head up from her neck to look at him. His eyes were clouded with a mixture of love and lust. She smiled, and with her voice lowering to the same volume as his, she replied, “so don’t stop.”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No, that’s a promise.”

Eager to be alone, she grabbed Peter’s hand to lead him out of the room. She stopped, however, upon feeling Peter’s grip on her tighten protectively. When she turned back around to look at him, she instantly knew there was a problem. His jaw was clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes scanned the room nervously. 

“What’s wrong, Peter?” She asked, stepping towards him to place a reassuring hand on his chest. “Is it your tingle? Is your tingle tingling?”

He nodded, his chest rising and falling rapidly under her hand. “Something’s coming.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ taglist!

@taina-eny @ssophiebirkas @nickangel13 @sagestuffing @imadamselindistressicanhandelit @hellothereobi @aubreylovesthegames @todaywasafairytale07 @milkiane @frenchgirlinlondon @liveloudwriteloud @kdatthecastle @xoxoloverb @lollipopsandstuff @lezzaheart662 @moo-b1tch @willie-ivy

[shueith]

How about? A reverse role for shadowpeach. Macaque is Monkey King and Wukong is the villain!

(Sorry for the wait on a response -)

This is by far one of my favorite aus!!

I haven’t worked out the logistics yet, but just for the sake of going straight into it and writing shadowpeach, I’m going to leave the entire premise of the reverse au for later (I’ll make a separate post explaining character roles, backstory switches, etc).

Macaque spins on his feet, doing a loop around and landing backwards on his hand as he kicks his leg out into the other monkeys stomach.

Wukong, mid-lunge and grab, let’s out a strangely deep, mangled sound as the new force hits hard against his ribs, sending him flying backwards into a mess of rocks and leftover rubble. For a second he mistakes his fatigue for death, as the air is forced from his lungs and the jagged surface scrapes unkindly against his back. That is, until a hand snakes soundly around his neck, dragging him back to reality.

Macaque towers tenaciously above him, keeping him pinned in place against a nearby wall belonging to the mountain range as he snarls and mutters strange-sounding comments to himself. Comments, no doubt, about Wukong, though it doesn’t peak his interest as much as the steam descending his teeth does.

“Well, this hasn’t gone exactly as I thought it would - you’ve become more agile on your feet since the last time we fought.” Wukong smirks, ignoring the way his head spins and the world momentarily turns a colorful shade of pink and yellow.

Macaque growls violently, his grip around Wukong’s neck gradually tightening. “Why are you here, Wukong, and why are you coming for my successor’s neck?” He spits, cold and uncaring, giving Wukong no time to speak before he’s diving back into his endless pot of queries and insults. “You always have been a dirty player, coming for peoples’ prizes and all. I’d even go as far as to call you a cheater, if I didn’t know you’d like that.”

“What can I say?” Wukong splutters, licking at the blood stroking his lips. “I always did know how to work my way around you.”

Macaque’s cheeks flame a hot red. Though he doesn’t allow Wukong as much time to see it, as he discards his hold from around his neck, the monkey still manages to scrape a little glance.

The Sage lifts his foot high into the air, bringing it back down and slamming it into Wukong’s chest with a heavy hand, shoving him further into the stone; one swift motion. “Go back to the dirty, decaying cavern you came from!”

“I’d rather die twice than go back there!” Wukong retorts, his smile (somehow) never ceasing to exist, despite this awfully familiar predicament he’d managed to entangle himself in.

“I might not give you a choice.” Macaque grinds, pushing his heel harder into Wukong’s chest as his back arches, building himself bigger in an attempt to scare the other off.

Wukong hastily grabs at his ankle, tilting his head off to the side as his cheeks tint a sinister pink. “Plums -”

“Don’t -”

“Sugar,” Wukong presses, grin widening as Macaque’s flaming cheeks and scorching, purple eyes come into clearer of a view. “Why don’t you hear me out before you do something rash?”

“Why would I listen to you?” Macaque growls, bringing a clenched fist up to rag the scarf around his neck further over his face. “I don’t care about your sob story.”

“My sob story,” Wukong’s grin finally falters. He glares hot, hateful daggers, veins visibly pulsing in his fist as his hold around Macaque’s ankle tightens. “Might just save you. Your successor too; if she’s really lucky.”

Macaque pauses, carefully removing his foot from it’s place against Wukong’s chest as his gaze shifts to the girl behind him.

Mei - who lays tired, beaten and idle on the beaten ground - becomes the new centre of all his attention. All thoughts, future movements, all trust in Wukong, now centers around her.

Maybe he should think this through a little.

“Alright,” Macaque starts, mumbling slightly under his breath. He turns back to Wukong with a look of intent, crouching down to his level as his arms drape lazily over his knees. “What do you know about the Gentleman Bone Demon?”

Wukong smirks again, bringing a hand up to brush against Macaque’s cheek - who watches with untrusting precision. “Where do I even start?”

Or not.

[ofhouseadama]

33 for the hand ask meme

33. bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go

After the adrenaline finishes burning through his system, he struggles to parse out his own exhaustion from the burning in his lumbar, from the raw ache of his burnt, bruised, and swollen hands. But there's still eleven hours to go before they reach the wormhole, and as soon as they can make contact with DS9, they're at war.

He's gotten them this far, he just needs to get them a little bit farther. Still, he cringes at this softness. This weakness. How many days, weeks, months did he spend in the Order running on even less sleep, functioning on significantly worse injuries, running critical missions with similar stakes? It used to thrill him.

Now, all Elim Garak knows is a bone weariness that comes from a rapidly crumbling sense of resiliency.

He barely notices when Bashir sits in the pilot's chair next to him, the runabout's first aid kit in hand.

"It's fine, Doctor. Worf needs your attention more than I do," he says, waving him off. Just barely through the grimy film of fatigue, he catches the hint of a smile on the Doctor's face. "What?"

He inclines his head. "I suppose there's a distinction between needing and wanting my attention, that Worf might need my attention and that you want it--"

"A bold proclamation, indeed."

But not an incorrect one. He's never not wanted Dr. Bashir's attention, even after the wire was deactivated. Sure, the endorphin high never reached the apogee of numbness and bliss as it did during the years where he was tripping the mechanism once, twice, three times a day -- but the feedback loop he gets from his interactions with Bashir has always been shamefully pleasant.

Humming, the Doctor leans back in his chair, giving him a wry grin. "But for the time being, Worf is asleep, and well-watched. And you, my dear Mr. Garak, work with your hands."

"Oh, they'll be alright," he demurs.

They won't be. In all likelihood, the pain will get worse as more and more of the nerve endings in his palms and fingers die. The heightened sensitivity and fine motor skills that Cardassians pride themselves in, the acuity and emotive gestures and hand presses and clasps that make so much of the silent parts of their speech will be dulled and possibly numbed for him forever. On the upside, it will finally allow him to use his own palm as a pincushion.

Dr. Bashir sighs, setting down his kit and holding out his own hands expectantly. "Let me see them. It's the least I can do, Garak. You got us out of there. Let me repay you in this one small way."

He dreads to appear weak. He dreads to appear vulnerable.

But... no one else is around. He can hear Martok snoring from their position on the helm.

"I suppose, if you feel you are in my debt..."

If he hesitates, it's only from forty-plus years of training to do so. Still, he allows the Doctor to take custody of his hands, and tries to quell the shiver that runs up his spine at the gentle, careful, exacting touch. No part of him has ever been so warmly cradled.

Brows furrowing, the Doctor touches the pad of his pointer finger to the center of his palm. Garak wonders if he knows how intimate a gesture that is, his jaw tensing as Bashir continues, tracing the lines of his hand, the meat of his thumb. It's unbearably tender.

"I don't have access to a dermal regenerator," he murmurs. "But I can clean these burns and the larger lacerations, dress the wounds until we can get back to a proper infirmary."

"If you insist," he answers, just barely managing to not stammer his reply.

The Doctor's head snaps up. "I do. I really, really, do."

And if Bashir's gentle grasp lingers after affixing the last of the medical gauze, neither of them note it out loud.

[britishassistant]

What happens if a new villain comes to town and starts tearing shit up? Like a new rival shows up, falls in love with yuu, and kidnaps them before enacting a huge take over the city scheme, will the NRC and RSA finally come together for the same goal? Or would it lead to chaotic in-fighting in their individual attempts to rescue the reporter and save the city/stop this jerk face from showing them up only for yuu to break out just so they can knock them all upside the head?

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“It’s so simple, love.” The villain coos, one hand cupping Yuu’s chin gently to tilt their face up, “Just accept my proposal, and we won’t need to have any nasty accidents where you and the tarmac down there have a...terminal disagreement.”

Yuu glances down at the drop from where they’ve been “tied” to the top of the skyscraper by the metal beams that the supervillain bent around their body like they were rubber. They think they can see a flock of pigeons flapping by below them. “That’s your idea of a threat? Really? Because I’ve heard worse over breakfast. Sorry, but I really don’t think we have the right chemistry to accept marriage to the likes of you.”

The villain pouts, leaning against the tip of the building as if they were a pair of people chatting on the streets far below, and not one hapless captive tied to an antenna and their captor floating with nary a second thought in midair. “Oh c’mon now love. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be—you know that I could do far better with your Daddy’s little league than any of those second-rate bozos crowding around you.”

The reporter’s gaze sharpens, the corner of their mouth curling up in a snarl. “Don’t. Refer to them. Like that. They’re each seven times the supervillain you are, at least. Besides, I’d rather be turned into pancake mix on the pavement than do anything that could advance that man’s little projects.”

The villain tuts, coiffed hair ruffled by the breeze as he leans in far closer than Yuu is comfortable with. “Don’t play hard to get, love. So you’ve got Daddy issues, who doesn’t? It’s no reason to get in the way of progress. Maybe you’ll change your mind if I show you exactly what I can offer...”

Yuu recoils as the villain’s tongue forces its way into their mouth when their lips collide with all the force of a car crash, an invasive writhing thing that makes them gag at how far it pushes in as the villain hums greedily at their taste.

And one that the reporter swiftly brings their teeth down on.

Hard.

“FUCK! Ugh—you foul little bitch!!”

The backhand jars the reporter’s skull even as they brace for it, cutting the inside of their mouth and leaving them worried that if they try spitting out the blood gathering there, they’ll lose a tooth along with it.

The villain huffs, one hand carding through his ruffled hair. His tongue is already whole and unblemished, the last indents of their teeth healing as the reporter watches. “I didn’t want to do this, you know. I would’ve gladly taken you to the altar, and had you screaming in our wedding bed. I could’ve made you happy, if you’d just do what you’re told.”

Yuu sneers. “Frankly, I can’t imagine anything more boring.”

They take cold comfort in the fury that burns in the supervillain’s eyes at that.

“Fine. Fine.” The villain floats away, his eyes glowing that same bright red that melted through the wall to Yuu’s bedroom when they were first taken. “I was prepared to do this the nice way. I wanted to do this the nice way. But if you’re going to be such a little bitch about it, then I can always rely on the old fashioned method of succession.”

The laser beams swipe through the block of abandoned offices four stories below where the reporter is tied up.

The top of the building wavers, then begins to crumble forwards.

The villain says something else, probably something mocking and challenging them to get out of this mess because that’s the kind of cliche line that’s always used here, but Yuu can’t hear him over the whistle of the wind in their ears and the scream torn from their throat as they plummet.

They try frantically tug their arms free as their legs are pulled upwards by gravity, try their damndest to squirm free, but it’s no use, they’re not The Prefect right now, don’t even have the fedora on them, they’re Yuu, just Yuu, just helpless reporter Yuu, who can’t break steel beams with their pathetic powerless normal person strength, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, oh Great Seven, they’re going to die—!

“KING'S ROAR!!!”

There’s a discombobulating moment of freefall as the metal and concrete around them disintegrates into sand.

Then a strong, wiry arm loops around their waist and they’re pinned to a carpet as their rapid descent gradually slows to a stop in midair.

“Need a lift?” They can’t see Snake Charmer’s eyebrows through the mask, but they get the feeling one of them is raised in a wry fashion as he smirks at them.

The reporter lets out a hysterical, shaky laugh that only narrowly escapes becoming a sob, trembling hands seizing onto the two supervillains like they’re lifelines. “Wh-what took y-you so long? Did you ge-get held up in traffic?”

King grumbles, flicking their temple gently as Water Boy laughs gleefully from where he’s steering the carpet. “You could show a little more gratitude, herbivore. Do you know how hard it was to evade all the goody-two-shoes on the way here to save your ass?”

Yuu’s about to reply, when they catch a movement above them out of the corner of their eye.

“INCOMING!!”

Water Boy jerks the flying carpet to the side just in time for the villain to plunge past them fist-first, close enough to see his teeth bared in a furious snarl.

“DRIVE!!” Snake Charmer screams at his lieutenant above the rushing wind as the villain rises back up to try his luck again. Water Boy presses the corners of the carpet forwards and they go into a rollercoaster dive that makes the reporter’s stomach roil in protest.

King unleashes his powers on the two buildings behind them, disintegrating the foundations in hopes that the tonnes of concrete and rebar would be enough to slow the flying brick chasing them. The villain just bursts through the obstacles with nary a broken sweat, and speeds up to the point where Water Boy has to turn the carpet upside down so they don’t get knocked out of the sky.

“Where the fuck is that computer junkie?!?” King yells at Snake Charmer as they draw dangerously close to the road below. “He was supposed to be here hours ago!!”

“How am I supposed to know?!” They can hear Snake Charmer’s heartbeat hammer in his chest from where he’s pinning them to the vehicle in the absence of a seatbelt. “It was the conman who was meant to give him the si—”

Yuu can barely scream a warning in time as the villain looms behind Leona’s head, eyes glowing red and ready.

A rush of flying metal harpies collide with the bastard’s face, effectively pinning him in midair as he struggles to destroy the thousands-strong swarm that obstructs his path to them.

“OPEN FIRE!!” Comes Hermes’ high-pitched cry as a blue beam shoots past them at the center of the robotic maelstrom.

A pair of red lasers rocket out to meet it, almost seeming as though it could push Ortho’s assault back—!

A white-hot streak of lightening descends from the formerly clear sky to where the villain was pinned, disrupting the red eye lasers and allowing Hermes’ beam to make contact.

There’s a hideous scream and the stench of burnt meat.

“We’re coming in too fast!!” Water Boy yells, tugging on the carpet’s tassels until they’re almost vertical. “Ja—I, I don’t know if we’ll slow down in time!!”

Yuu barely hears the curses the other two occupants spit, lunging to try and cover as much of them as they can with their body. Even if they crash, if Yuu can just absorb most of the shock of the landing—!

Small pinpricks of pain latch onto their scalp, their pajamas, the carpet and supervillains beneath them, hundreds of small beating appendages smacking them all in the face as the carpet’s rapid descent slows incrementally.

“Oh boys~?”

Four sets of strong hands seize the front of the carpet, their owners grunting as they attempt to force the carpet’s stop through sheer force. Of course, the continued existence of Newton’s Third Law combined with the reporter’s precarious shielding position means that though the carpet experiences sudden stop, Yuu keeps going at the same high speed that will ensure serious injury once they hit the tarmac.

Or it would do, if they didn’t collide with a solid chest and waiting pair of arms first.

The reporter finds themselves cradled in a nearly crushing grip, their catcher muttering “child of man, child of man,” into the top of their head and a warm thumb swipes over the rapidly darkening bruise on their cheek. The wind picks up around them alarmingly, whipping into a gale.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m okay.” Yuu reaches up to pat Tsunotaro’s head soothingly. “See? Just a few scrapes and a little scare. Give me an ice pack and a shower and I’ll be right as rain.”

Tsunotaro doesn’t look very convinced, but at least the wind drops to more of a strong breeze.

“Oi, let ‘em down, you dumb lizard.” King growls behind the reporter, the rings on his tail clattering as it swishes irritably. “We did all the work of saving them, you don’t get to take the rewards.”

Tsunotaro clutches them closer, getting that stubborn look in his eyes that makes Yuu want to groan in exasperation. “No.”

“Why you—!”

“Now, now children, the world works in mysterious ways.” Batman beams. “I’ve always found destiny draws those it finds most suitable together.”

The reporter rolls their eyes as King snarls in response to that remark and Snake Charmer mutters, “I didn’t know ‘destiny’ was what you called interfering old fools.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Snake Charmer climbs off the carpet and straightens his headscarf. “What’s next?”

There’s a crash as the mass of robots pinning the singed villain about three blocks down the street begins to shift, however unwillingly.

“‘Kay, the ‘save the princess’ team barely cleared the parameters for their part of the mission.” Charon’s floating tablet drifts forward, the sounds of frantic tapping on a keyboard almost drowning out his voice. “Now it’s time for the ‘aggro’ and ‘debuff’ teams to move in, Tsuntaro-sshi, Royal-sshi.”

“Understood. I’ll leave the coordinating of the others to you, Charon.” Royal Flush looks up and raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the tall fae. “Well? Are you coming?”

Yuu could almost swear they hear a small grumble as Tsunotaro finally lets them down out of his grasp. He runs his thumb over their injured cheek one last time. “Sebek, Silver. Defend the reporter as you would me.”

“Yes, Tsunotaro-sama!” The two of them chorus.

Royal Flush shakes his head, then reaches out and squeezes Yuu’s hand once. “If anything happens, Three of Clovers and Howl-san will get you somewhere safe. But this shouldn’t take long.”

“Oi, don’t presume to give orders to my minion, Flush.” King growls, inserting himself bodily between the two of them. His mouth curls up in a smirk as he places a proprietary hand on top of their head. “Besides, I’ll be here, won’t I?”

Royal Flush and Tsunotaro narrow their eyes at him, but their attention is claimed by the sound of metal crashing down the street as the villain shrugs off the rubble, the burns on his arms and face healing rapidly as they watch. His eyes flicker over their motley group, before settling on Yuu with laser-precision.

It’s only the arrow that flies into his shoulder, combined with a second lightening bolt striking him from the blue that keeps that metaphor from becoming literal.

Yuu chokes a little at the pressure on their pajama shirt collar as they’re dragged out of the line of fire. From where they’re crouched behind a car, they can see Tsunotaro and Hermes throwing almost everything he’s got as the bastard, while Royal tries to close the distance without ending up attacked himself. They also catch a glimpse of who they think is Leviathan silently gliding closer through the alleys on the far side of the street.

But the villain just won’t stop getting back up. Despite the fact that anyone sane would’ve given up the moment the green flames were broken out, he keeps coming, no matter how many times he gets thrown back.

And he’s clearly getting closer to the reporter he so desperately wants to kill.

“Now what?” Yuu asks, barely able to hear themselves think over the worried growl rumbling from Jack’s chest.

Charon’s muttering to himself as more of his robots fly by overhead. “Need to pin down the rate of regen, if we can get that and surpass it so the ‘debuff’ team can do their thing before the second wave gets here, but what is it?”

The reporter blinks. Well, taking into account the insult, and the backhand...

“He was able to heal his tongue about...four, maybe five seconds after I’d bitten through it? That’s only a rough estimate though, it may’ve been shorter.” They murmur.

The area around them goes very quiet.

“B-bitten through...?” Water Boy asks, hand coming up to his own mouth with a wince.

Yuu scowls. “That creep put it in my mouth when I did not ask him to. Ugh, I would’ve gone for his balls too, but the metal didn’t let me lift my legs that far.”

They huff for a moment at the unfairness of it. Then, “King, stop grinning at me like that.”

“Like what herbivore?” His tone is the picture of innocence, even if the way he’s eying them is most decidedly not.

Snake Charmer ‘accidentally’ kicks him in the shin as the sound of frantic typing erupts from the tablet again. “Setting the Erinyes to follow up on Ortho’s and Tsunotaro-sshi’s attacks within a three point five second time frame...fwe he he he, let’s see how that mob likes this!”

With the clack of what sounds like an enter key, the robots above them begin divebombing the villain in sequence, deliberately targeting the parts of him injured by Tsunotaro and Hermes’ blows.

One of them sacrifices itself in a kamikaze dive that leaves a bleeding scratch on his arm.

The villain roars, the force of his fury almost knocking them over even with how far away their little group is crouched, turning the lasers on every robot within his line of sight.

Of course, this means he stops paying attention to the three supervillains who have been steadily making their way towards him.

“FAIREST ONE OF ALL!”

“IT’S A DEAL!”

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

The powers hit the villain one after another, his lasers sputtering out with a pained scream. The scratch on his arm doesn’t start healing. Neither does the gash he gets across his face when Poison Queen roundhouse kicks him away with those stilettos of his.

“Was that it?” Leviathan says, his careless facade somewhat ruined by the fact that he wobbles as he begins to levitate. “I must confess I don’t understand what all the tr-trouble was.”

A low whistle by their ear makes Yuu jump. “The bosses can be scary when they wanna be. Remind me never to piss off those three at once.”

The reporter look up to see Ace and Floyd standing behind them. “Ace, wha—where have you been?!”

Floyd giggles and Ace shoots them an evil grin as they chorus, “Sending out party invites~”

Yuu blinks and tries to puzzle out this cryptic phrase, but their attention is swiftly drawn back to the scene of the battle at the sound of manic, unhinged laughter.

“You think you’ve won? You think something like this will stop me?!” The villain cackles, eyes wild and beginning to grow red again despite the way his body tenses and the collar around his neck starts to buckle. “You think that second-rate half-hearted hacks like you can stop someone like me?!? I am your superior!! You all will bend the knee once I snap that ungrateful little bitch’s neck and take my rightful place as head of the League!!! I’ll decimate every last one of those pathetic, moronic heroes who pollute this city like a fungus!! And then, oh , and then I’ll make every last one of you who thought they could get away with this pitiable attempt to stop me—”

“Us? Here to stop you?” Poison Queen tilts his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re supervillains.”

“Stopping the likes of you.” Leviathan proclaims triumphantly, “Is their job.”

The villain stops.

The villain turns.

Over half the top heroes of the Royal Sword Association lead here by the minions meet his gaze.

“Hello.” Niko Niko Neko says with a wide grin.

Yuu isn’t close enough to hear if the villain whimpers, but they almost wish they were.

Almost.