#he should be feared and given no chance of redemption

[loki-cees-all]

Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You and Loki absolutely despise each other. A mission to Finland forces you to work together undercover in the days leading up to Christmas, and then a blizzard traps you at an inn with only one bed. Suddenly all those teasing games aren't so fun anymore, and the animosity takes you both down a path neither of you anticipated.

W/c : 6.2k words

Content / Warnings : Enemies to Lovers, Snowed In, Only One Bed, Shameless Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Hate-Fucking, Cowgirl Position

Author's Note : My entry for @sarahscribbles' Christmas Collection, using the ✨ Enemies to Lovers ✨ prompt. Hope you enjoy it, dear!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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This had to be a joke. 

Not only had you been given the ridiculous assignment of “accompanying” the newest member of the Avengers, the so-called God of Mischief, to Finland. Not only did you know it wasn’t accompaniment, it was actually babysitting, because despite Thor’s intense insistence that his brother be given this chance at redemption, the rest of the team still didn’t quite trust him yet. 

Not only were you sure that this mission was just busy work - a way to simultaneously keep Loki distracted, and away from the prying eyes of the American government and media. And not only had this man single handedly usurped your rise from common S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to the next member of the Avengers, because the dungeons on Asgard were just too cruel for the precious Prince…

But now, there was only one bed left in this entire goddamn inn. 

The sweet old woman checking you in apologized profusely when she broke the news, and you just stood there, silently fuming and clenching your jaw so hard your teeth would be aching for days. Truthfully, you should have known better - it was only four days before Christmas; how could you forget that it was technically a holiday, and that millions of people around the world would be traveling for leisure right now? 

Maybe it was just because you couldn't recall the last time you'd taken a vacation, or the fact that you hadn’t spent a holiday with loved ones in years. Or maybe you’d been cursed somehow - most likely by the man standing next to you, with an infuriatingly charming grin on his face.

“Please don’t worry about it, my dear, we’ve just had quite a long day of traveling,” Loki gently assured the woman, reaching for her hand as she all but cowered in fear at your palpable rage. She seemed to relax as Loki soothed her, and you hated that it was him covering for your negative attitude instead of the other way around. “My fiancé - she’s just a bit old fashioned, and she wants to wait until marriage, you see...”

The woman smiled as if he was describing kittens snuggling together on a cold and rainy evening, and you were this close to absolutely losing your temper; he was already deviating from your mutually agreed upon cover story, that you were simply colleagues traveling to the Muotkatunturi Wilderness Area on a research trip, and he intentionally chose his own cover story to replace it - one that was designed to deliberately piss you off. 

You knew Loki could feel the anger radiating off your skin, and he turned towards you with a smile of his own as he continued to act as your doting fiancé. “And I’m determined to make that a reality. I promise, I’ll be fine sleeping on the floor, alright, darling?” 

He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his emerald eyes shining as he surely relished in your discomfort. You tried to focus on that, on how angry you were at him about everything - instead of his warm embrace, or how inviting his scent was. 

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the most comfortable floors in all of Rovaniemi!” the woman laughed as she returned to filling out the guestbook.

It was humiliating, but it seemed as though you had no choice. You let out a heavy exhale, deciding it would be easier to just go along with his story and get this interaction over with as quickly as possible. Your only saving grace was that this was temporary - soon this reconnaissance mission would be over, and sooner or later Loki would ruin the good graces of Tony and Steve and be sent back to the dungeons on Asgard. 

But until then, you were going to have to find a way to make him pay for all of this later on.

“There’s my girl. Always the brave little soldier,” he purred softly, leaning down as if he was going to kiss you. Your eyes widened in panic, desperately fighting the urge to push him away and possibly punch him in his handsome face, but Loki caught the hint and quickly looked the other way. 

You turned your attention back to the front desk as the woman fiddled with the paperwork, and a group of figurines for sale caught your eye, nestled among the garland and twinkling lights. A wicked grin crept across your face as you nudged Loki’s ribs unplayfully. “Look, dear - they’ve got some Odin statues for sale. Shall we buy some to hand them out with our Christmas gifts this year?” 

Loki’s gaze slowly descended into madness, and you cheered silently once you were sure you’d gotten under his skin. His jaw tightened, along with the hand pressed against your ribs, but the woman smiled happily, unaware of just who she was talking to. 

“Ah, yes - these make excellent souvenirs!” the woman laughed as she picked up one of the figurines, admiring the wood carving with a loving eye. “Did you know that the myth of Santa Claus is based partially on the myth of Odin - and that it all started right here in Rovaniemi?” 

“Oh, I had no idea!” you lied, almost giddy with how much this was going to piss Loki off. “Could you tell me more about that? I find Norse mythology to be just fascinating…Of course, that pesky God of Mischief certainly leaves a lot to be desired, wouldn’t you say?” 

She opened her mouth to answer, clearly very pleased that someone was finally so interested in her offerings, but Loki quickly interjected with barely contained rage. “Actually, if you could just focus on retrieving our room key now, I’d really appreciate it.” 

“What is the God of Mischief’s name? Loki, or something like that?” you continued with absolute delight, slipping your arm around his waist the way he’d done while teasing you. “Pretty ridiculous name, if you ask me. Thor’s name is so much more elegant…”

“Well, it’s funny you should mention that. The name Loki actually means - ”

“The keys! Now. Please,” Loki snapped as he yanked your arm away, gripping your wrist so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. That was definitely going in your mission report once you’d returned to Stark Tower.

The woman faltered briefly, clearly not expecting the charming man to shift his attitude so abruptly, but she reluctantly obliged and began rummaging around in a drawer for a set of room keys.

“You’ll have to excuse my fiancé, m’am…He just doesn’t believe in all that Norse mythology nonsense, even though I think it’s super interesting…” you smirked as Loki stewed with indignation. “But it’s just this one night that you have to endure the tall tales of Norse mythology, and then we’re off to Inari in the morning…aren’t we, sweetheart?”

The sweet old woman furrowed her brow as she pulled the last set of keys from the drawer and extended them over the counter. “Oh, didn’t you hear about the blizzard arriving tonight? They’re saying it’s the storm of the century. I doubt you two will be going anywhere for a while.”

Loki’s face fell alongside yours, and you both turned to the woman with matching grimaces. “I beg your pardon?” 

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Your mood quickly soured by the time Loki led the way upstairs to your room; of course there was a blizzard incoming, and of course it would mean you were trapped here longer than anticipated with the most inconsiderate man alive. He took the stairs two at a time, leaving you behind to struggle with your luggage, while his belongings were no doubt stored easily inside that stupid pocket dimension of his. 

If just one more thing went wrong on this trip, you feared you might actually lose it - consequences be damned. 

By the time you made it down the hallway to the door of your room, Loki was casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a brooding expression on his face. If you didn’t hate him so much, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” you called out sarcastically as you made your way over to him. “I’m absolutely shocked by how thoughtful and courteous you are.” 

Loki scoffed and pushed himself off the wall as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “I could have just gone inside and left you wondering which door was ours. You should be grateful I didn’t.” 

“Aww, is someone a little mad that I made him think about Odin?” you taunted, enjoying the way he tensed up again at the sound of his father’s name. 

“No, it was just foolish. Do not make that mistake again…” 

The door swung open and you rolled your eyes as you followed him inside. “Are you threatening me?” 

Loki whipped around with barely restrained fury as soon as the door closed. “We’re meant to be under cover here, yes? So do you really think it’s a good idea to be throwing around my actual name just to infuriate me?” he snapped angrily, eyes blazing and fists clenching at his sides. 

Your stomach did a flip in your abdomen, and you struggled to maintain an air of defiance as he continued. “You don’t know who anyone is here, or who could be listening to our conversations. So keep your mouth shut if you don’t want us to be discovered! Am I being clear?” 

You nodded meekly, because that was all you could manage while kicking yourself. He was right, you were being foolish and forgetting the true purpose of this trip. Hydra could easily have eyes and ears everywhere, and if you kept pissing Loki off, he might not be inclined to save you if necessary. 

And you hated that it might be necessary, because he was a literal God with infinite magic at his disposal, while you were just a fallible little human that he absolutely despised. 

As Loki turned away and started pulling the drapes shut, you distracted yourself with examining the room you’d been given. Three large windows took up the entire outside wall of the room, and on either side of the lone queen-sized bed were two end-tables, each with a dark green lamp providing the only light to the room. A stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the bed, decorated with greenery and frosted miniature Christmas trees, and a tiny wooden desk and chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. 

It was definitely cozy, even you couldn’t deny that, but that just made it worse. In any other circumstances, you might have enjoyed this break; but the Christmas decorations just reminded you of how alone you were, and Loki’s presence only reminded you of how unnecessary you were. 

And it was already starting to get uncomfortably cold inside the room. Just before Loki yanked the last curtain closed, you caught a glimpse of the snow outside; it had quickly transformed from light flurries into heavy sheets of frozen precipitation. You were in for a very cold, very long and lonely night, and daylight couldn't come soon enough.

A deep sense of dread settled in the base of your spine as you realized how long you might be trapped here with this narcissistic, self-important and delusional mockery of all the sacrifices you’d made to get to this point of your career. 

You’d foregone relationships with family, friends and potential lovers to spend every waking moment either training your body or honing your skills, trying to prove your worth and dedication to keeping this world safe from anything that ever threatened it. 

And the planet’s most recent threat, the reason for the Avengers’ very existence, was making himself busy pulling pillows and blankets off the bed to make his own on the hardwood floor. Loki was silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually hurt by your teasing. 

You hated it. You hated this - especially since you hadn’t expected to feel so badly about taunting him. Clearing your throat, you set your suitcase on the chair and pretended to look for something inside. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. I guess I’m just…on edge.”

“Why bother?” he replied coldly, and you didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t actually hurt, or if it was because he didn’t care that you were potentially sorry about hurting him. Either way, the dismissal stung. 

You continued rummaging through the suitcase, anything to avoid looking at your roommate for the night. How long had it been since you’d shared such close quarters with another person? Had there been anyone since college? You already felt raw and exposed by the idea of falling asleep within the same four walls as another person; but at the very least, Loki was sticking to his word about sleeping on the floor and not in the bed with you. 

“You’re not worried about the mission? Or the blizzard? Or the fact that we might kill each other at any moment?” you laughed nervously, hoping to at least break some of the tension. 

Loki sighed. “This mission is a joke. The blizzard might be a problem, and yes - we might certainly try to kill each other…but none of that is cause for real concern - not to me, anyway.” 

Your brow furrowed, and you turned to look at him; the God of Mischief was on his hands and knees, arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. It was an amusing sight, and you struggled to maintain focus. “Wait - you think this mission is a joke?”

He paused what he was doing, staring off into the distance with regret in his eyes as if he’d already said too much but couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what this mission actually is…” 

You rubbed your neck nervously, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“I know how easily it would be for Stark to send in his machines to do this reconnaissance, and that the Scepter likely isn’t here. Obviously, I’d be the last person they’d ever want close to it,” Loki continued, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. “I know the others are probably on the other side of the world recovering it as we speak, and that this mission is completely pointless - hence, assigning you and I to it.”

Your heart sank as he spoke, knowing that he was probably right; that this mission was utterly pointless, that it wouldn’t advance you any further in your career. That the only thing this mission was going to lead to was meaningless and unnecessary frustration and pain for the both of you. 

“I know what they - and you - don’t particularly like or trust me. And you have good reason not to.” Loki cast a tragic glance in your direction before quickly looking away again. 

“So why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here, and if you don’t…” you trailed off, unsure if you should finish that thought. 

Loki sighed and shook his head. “It…doesn’t matter,” he answered sadly, and your heart broke over the entire situation. You didn’t know what to say to make either of you feel better, and it was likely that nothing ever would. 

“There. I think that’ll do nicely,” he announced pleasantly, abruptly changing the subject and rousing you from your pensive thoughts. You glanced over to see a grown man - a God, in fact - standing proudly over the neatly arranged pillows and blankets on the floor, and for a brief moment you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight - that is, until you noticed the state of your sleeping quarters for the foreseeable future. 

“You stripped off most of the bed!” you protested angrily, examining the three paltry blankets left to keep you warm overnight. 

“On the contrary - I stripped precisely half of the bed,” Loki replied as he began to remove his coat. “Of course, there’s a simple and quite easy way to double your warmth if you’re so concerned…” 

“Absolutely not.” The words came out harsher than you’d intended, but even just sharing four walls felt way too close to him; sharing a bed was probably way more than you ever could handle. 

“Fair enough. Shall I light a fire to keep us warm then?” Loki offered without skipping a beat, the sudden change in his tone giving you multiple rounds of whiplash. He stepped over to the fireplace to examine it, running his hands over the stone hearth’s arch before crouching next to the pile of logs. 

How was he able to switch so suddenly, from profound soundness to being so thoughtful? You wanted to accept the kindness and be grateful for the change in tone, but all it did was put you on edge. You sat down on the bed and began to unlace your boots, still desperately trying not to look at him. “Don’t bother on my account,” was all the response you could manage. 

The room was silent for a moment, and you could almost feel the gears turning inside Loki’s head as he tried to come up with something else to say. But why was he trying so hard? You had been counting on him retreating into himself the way he always did back at Stark Tower, or worst case - that he would be deliberately messing with you, making your life hell and again ruining your chances at proving yourself worthy. 

You could feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull as your boots clattered to the floor. And when he still hadn’t tried to speak, you cautiously looked over your shoulder to him. “Was there something else you wanted?” 

Loki sighed and let his eyes drift away as he shook his head. An expression of restrained exasperation crawled across his features as he made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you…” 

Your brow furrowed and guilt poured into your veins with every step he took. But guilt about what? You weren’t friends. You owed him nothing. This was just a mission - nothing more, and nothing less. You opened your mouth to speak, but Loki was already laying down on the floor with his back to you, clearly uninterested in speaking anymore that night. 

The room seemed colder after Loki withdrew. It was an odd, incredibly distracting feeling - one that you hadn’t ever prepared yourself for, and didn’t have the energy to explore at the moment. Sleep was calling out to you, beckoning you closer as it always did whenever the feelings all became too much. 

It took so much effort to crawl underneath the three blankets on your bed, and you didn’t even bother changing out of your street clothes before cocooning yourself inside. You thought about everything in your life that had led up to this incredibly excruciating moment, all the choices you’d made and the pain you’d gone through. 

All that sacrifice, and where had it gotten you?

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Sleep did not come easy for you that night. Despite your body exhausted from travel and the gentle bed cradling your wearied soul, you laid awake far longer than you would have expected. So many thoughts flitting uncontrollably across your mind, so many shivers slipping along your frigid bones. 

A cold draft seeped in through the seams of the windowsills as the snow poured down outside. You were still awake, curled up on your side with the blankets pulled tight around your narrow frame. Eyelids pulled shut and breath held cautiously, you struggled to keep from shivering too much as you imagined Loki on the floor. 

He had to be colder than you were, and part of you wanted to ignore his possible discomfort. He deserved it, didn’t he? Maybe if he was more pleasant to be around, it wouldn’t have to be like this. 

But another part of you hoped he’d be so uncomfortable that he’d ask to join you in the bed. Your thoughts returned to when he had slipped his arm around your waist earlier that evening, and you struggled to keep your heart rate in check. It was wrong, you knew it was so wrong because you were supposed to hate him, the villain who had terrorized New York City, and he was supposed to hate you, a simple mortal who was only good for kneeling. 

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was a whisper, a small shadow in a room full of empty ones. You slowly opened your eyes, your pupils taking their time to adjust the dark and make out the furniture inside the room. You wanted to sit up, to peer out into the world and see if he looked any different on the floor. 

“Can’t sleep. It’s too cold,” you murmured softly, barely able to even pull the blankets tighter around you. 

Loki sighed off in the distance. “The power’s been knocked out by the storm, so the heating’s off.” 

It was only then that you realized the bedside table lamps had gone out. Too busy retreating inside yourself, the only warm place you had left. “Oh. Hadn’t noticed.” 

“I could light the fire now, if you’d like.” 

No, you thought. No, that won’t do. That’s not what I want from you. “Why are you being so nice to me now?” 

Loki stirred on the floor, presumably shifting underneath his blankets. He could be sitting up right now, looking at you in the dark and you wouldn’t ever know. “Some things are easier to say in the dark.” 

You thought for a moment, wondering about how to beckon him closer without risking rejection, or your dignity. This shouldn’t happen; and yet, it never ever would in the light. “Then let’s stay in the dark.” 

Loki didn’t respond, and silence descended upon the room again. You couldn’t stop the shivers tormenting your flesh, and your teeth clattered together as you waited for a response. This time, you were sure you were going to freeze to death, despite burning in the waiting, and yearning, and longing that rolled up and down your spine. 

“But where there’s light…there’s heat,” Loki finally answered. His voice was closer, much closer now; he’d stood up, and maybe he was right next to the bed. Could you reach out and touch him? Should you?

“I’m doing just fine in the cold.” 

Loki chuckled, and you felt the blankets pull away as the mattress dipped under his weight. “You shouldn’t lie to the God of Mischief, dear,” he whispered softly as he settled in behind you, curling his knees behind yours and brushing his nose against your ear. 

His body was so very warm, and you were aching for his touch. “I think it’s only fair. You came to my bed, and left your blankets on the floor…” you sassed, unable to help yourself. 

“You want me to retrieve them?” Loki’s voice carried the slightest hint of mockery as he started to pull away. You panicked and grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling his arm back around your waist. 

“So fussy…” he murmured with a smile, his voice hot against your neck as he settled in to spoon you once more. “You want heat, but not light. You hate me, but you want me close…” 

You melted in his arms, and forced out a soft, defiant sigh. “You have no idea what I want…” 

“And you do?” He matched your sigh with one of his own, and pressed his hand flat against your stomach, moving languidly over the fabric of your many shirts and jackets. You could feel how much he wanted to move his hand upwards to more stimulating areas, and it was so very thrilling. 

“So what do you want, hmm? Why did you tell the innkeeper we were engaged, when that wasn’t our planned cover story?” you whispered, shifting your hips and ass against his crotch. 

Loki swallowed a deep groan, and you could feel your own arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. His hand latched onto your hip, but he didn’t stop you from moving. 

“Was it just to piss me off, or was it because you wanted to pretend it was true?” you continued, shifting back against him and hoping the movement would cause your clothing to reveal a little bare skin. 

“The…first option. Obviously…” Loki whispered, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as his hips started to grind against yours. 

You swallowed back a moan, trying desperately to ignore his hardened length against the swell of your ass. “Which one of us is the liar now?” 

“Gods, do you ever stop talking?!” he hissed as he began rummaging underneath your jacket, eagerly searching for bare skin as he pulled your shirt upwards. His hand finally found your bare hip, and his touch was white hot as he began unbuttoning your jeans. 

This time, you didn’t bother hiding the moan, and you twisted ever so slightly underneath the sheets to encourage him to keep going. Your heart beat frantically in your chest and your lips parted, intending to tease him one more time with the brattiest ‘make me’ ever spoken aloud…

And then his fingers dipped beneath the waistband to slip between your slick thighs. 

The sound that tumbled from your lips was equally parts gasp and whimper as his fingertips grazed over your soaked clit, and his breath was heavy against your neck. “There we go. That’s more like it…” he whispered breathlessly, slowly dragging his fingers back and forth. 

Your thighs drifted apart, as much as they could while trapped inside the unyielding jeans, and your hips rolled eagerly as he pressed harder against your clit. Heat flooded your veins, pooling beneath your cheeks and spilling out of your lungs as you whimpered for more. 

Loki slipped his other arm around your shoulder, those fingers curling in your hair as his lips started to kiss and suck along your neck. “So sensitive…have you always been this wet for me?” 

“Yes…” you moaned honestly, unable to deny it any longer. You’d say anything to make him keep going, to keep those delicate fingers pressing and massaging and coaxing endless satisfaction from you. 

“That’s a shame. We could have been doing this the whole time then…” he groaned heavily, shuddering and sighing along as if he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. 

“Oh, my god - Loki!” you gasped as he slipped a finger inside, slowly pushing and withdrawing it from your swollen, throbbing pussy. Your hips bucked with his movements, and your fingers curled around your clothing, desperately trying to pull and shift to give him more room to work. 

Loki smiled against your neck, and brought his lips up to nibble on your earlobe as he added a second finger. “This feels good, doesn’t it? You’re enjoying what I’m doing to you?” 

That familiar coil of release was beginning to contract inside your core, tighter than it ever had before. Frantic whimpers of ecstasy fell from your lips, unashamed and without second-guessing. With your eyes closed and your hips writhing, you moaned louder and louder as your climax approached. 

“Careful, little one. Do you want the innkeeper to hear us breaking our vows of chastity?” he taunted in a low, thrumming voice against your ear. 

“I don’t care, I don’t care! Just, please - keep going!” 

Loki’s fingers moved faster still, skillfully and without hesitation, as if he was completely determined to bring you to Heaven himself. But just as the floodgates were about to open, just as you were about to come so very hard, he cruelly withdrew his fingers. 

“What?! No!” Your eyes flew open in shock as the pressure receded and the coil in your belly began to loosen. 

Loki gazed at you with a triumphant grin on his face, his emerald eyes blazing in the dark. “Maybe now you’ll be nicer to me…now that you know what I can do to you…” he murmured, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your arousal from them. 

Your mind reeled uncontrollably, so furious and yet still so turned on by the pleasure he’d brought and subsequently taken from you. “I- I can’t believe you…Wh-why would you’d d-do this…?” you stammered, clumsily pushing yourself up to sitting. 

Loki settled on his back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you struggling to pull your jacket off. “Surely you can. But the real question is…what are you going to do about it, hmm?” 

“Oh, my God, I hate you. I hate you so much,” you groaned as you finally freed the zipper and yanked the jacket off your frame. You stumbled out of the bed, thighs trembling violently as you worked to remove the rest of your clothing. You weren’t lying; you did hate him, but goddammit he was so alluring and you desperately needed to come. 

Loki watched hungrily as you stripped the rest of your clothing away and climbed back onto the bed, settling yourself over his hips. “Well, this is certainly an interesting strategy,” he whispered as he curled a hand behind your neck and pulled your lips down to his. 

You moaned deeply as you kissed him back, violently and passionately moving your lips and tongue with his. You eagerly rolled your bare pussy against his clothed hips, searching for any sort of friction and for a way to tease him more than he’d teased you, to make sure you wouldn’t be denied a second time. 

He met your lips just as eagerly, groaning and moaning against your mouth as he moved his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples and driving you mad with want. Your hands moved to his jacket, grabbing and struggling to align the zipper with the chain and be able to feel his skin directly against yours. 

“Use your magic, undo your clothing…” you whispered frantically against his lips, unable to see or think clearly. 

“Absolutely not. Show me how much you want me…” Loki hummed teasingly, shifting his hands downwards to grasp your ass and force you to roll harder against his hips. 

You grinned, pleased with his words, and pulled back to sit upright on his hips. With your full weight pressing down, you rolled yourself harder against him, and his back arched in pleasure. When his jaw clenched tight and he rolled his hips with yours, you violently pulled the jacket zipper down and then ripped his shirt open. 

“Oh, you are going to pay for that, minx!” Loki hissed angrily as shirt buttons went flying across the room. He pulled his hand away as if preparing to smack your ass, but you ignored it, leaned forward to take his nipple between your lips. 

Loki moaned loudly as you sucked, flicking your tongue as he squirmed and writhed beneath you. His eyes closed and both of his hands returned to your ass, and you matched every one of his moans with some of your own. Vindication and pleasure rushed up and down your spine - and then he finally magicked his clothes away. 

You found yourself pressed directly against the length of his throbbing cock, and you both moaned loudly in unison at the intimate contact. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but you couldn’t believe how amazing it felt already. You shifted to bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his naked body as your hips gyrated together. 

The blizzard outside was forgotten, the cold air nipping at your bare skin was no longer a concern, and in that moment you couldn’t remember why you ever hated him. He whimpered in your ear and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as your hips writhed in unison, and soon that coil was wrapping itself around every fiber of your being again. 

There was nothing anyone could do to stop you from coming this time; in fact, Loki actively encouraged you to keep going through a heated, growling voice. “Yes, take it from me. Let it all out, I’ve got you…” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder into your flesh. 

The orgasm ripped through you, searing every nerve ending as you thrashed on top of him. Your fingers and toes curled beyond what you thought was ever possible, and your muscles kept tensing and relaxing, grinding and rolling in a desperate attempt to keep this pleasure flowing. 

Loki held on tightly, groaning and gasping right along with you until you finally started to come back down. One by one your muscles relaxed until you lay limp, breathing heavily between parted lips on top of him. You were finally sated, with no thoughts passing through you any longer; maybe now you could finally fall asleep…

Satisfied that you had gotten yours - and the better of him - you started to roll away, but his arms tightened around your body, keeping you on top of him. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m not done with you yet…” 

Your eyes fluttered back open as Loki adjusted your body on top of his, and before you could muster the strength to tease him again, he was pushing himself inside you. It felt incredible, like his body was molded to fit inside yours, and you couldn’t believe he’d somehow figured out what your favorite position was. 

A deep whimper of pleasure was all you could manage as you took him in, his cock pulsating inside you and filling you entirely. Loki moved his hands back down to grip your ass as he began to thrust upwards, his thighs tensing and pelvis tilting to hit your sweet spot. You shifted your knees away from his hips and hovered above them as he drove himself into you over and over again. 

Almost immediately you were on the verge of coming a second time, and you cried out his name as every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession. Loki’s thrusts were relentless as he came apart with you, his fingers digging into your flesh and hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably beneath you. 

You clung to each other the entire time, your minds wracked with pleasure and bodies spent until you were both just panting and laying peacefully in each other’s arms. When clarity returned, you had no idea how to react; should you push him away? Should you say something rude? Was he going to beat you to either of those options first? 

The deepest, most vulnerable part of you just wanted to stay there, lingering in the bliss you both had created with each other. You’d never had a partner this exquisite before, and you didn’t know what you were going to do when you returned home - let alone the next morning. 

You nestled in against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, calmly, peacefully. Loki kept his arms around you, and his fingers ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he held you close. 

“I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” Loki said quietly, his voice tinged with melancholy. 

You blinked and cautiously brought your hand to his chest, placing it soothingly over his heart. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked why I was here. I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” he repeated, placing his hand over yours. “For New York, for the pain I’ve caused my father and brother, for letting myself be - ” 

Loki swallowed hard and shook his head, and could almost feel the regret swelling in his eyes. There was something important he wasn’t sharing; maybe he didn’t know how, or maybe he didn’t know if he could trust you yet. Something deep inside you longed to earn that trust, something you didn’t quite understand. 

“You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to. But…I’d be willing to listen, whenever you are ready,” you replied sincerely, hoping he’d believe you. And then you continued on, to make a joke and hopefully lighten the mood. “First, though, I think we need to agree to a cease-fire. In the spirit of Christmas, and whatnot.” 

Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d be the first one to concede…” he murmured playfully. “But I’m feeling generous. Let’s just call it a draw…” 

Your mind reeled with possibilities, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t make anything worse or ruin the moment. “Really? I thought your hatred of me was permanent…” you answered cautiously. 

Loki shifted his hand to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I don’t hate you. You just…bewilder and confound me…”

His gaze was soft and warm, and it almost took your breath away. If he was this delicate with someone he found this irritating, how tender could he be with someone he actually loved? And could he ever actually love you someday? 

You forced a smile, and traced his cheekbones with your fingertips, hoping he couldn’t read your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe all the teasing and insulting was what made this so good?” you murmured playfully. 

Loki returned your smile, although there was a hint of sadness you couldn’t quite place etched upon his features. “I suppose we’ll see what happens in tomorrow’s light, won’t we?” 

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

[terrythemerry]

I just watched Wish (2023) and it made me realize something kind of sad about Disney’s treatment of villains.

So Disney has a long history of villainy from the OG Evil Queen who is willing to murder a girl just for being pretty to the misguided like Auto thinking he’s protecting humanity in Wall-E. They are mean, jealous, prideful, vain, and many relish in just being the worst of the worst. However every now and then we get a glimpse of more complexity. Zootopia’s Bellwether dealing with years of racism and mistreatment, Gantu trying to stop what he thinks is a monster in Lilo and Stitch, Up’s Muntz being a heroic explorer before paranoia consumed him, etc. The thing that makes me sad about these villains is that not one of them has ever had a chance at redemption or change in Disney’s eyes and nowhere is that sadder to me than their latest villain, King Magnifico.

(Spoilers below)

King Magnifico is the magical founder of a utopian society that accepts people of all races, religions, and backgrounds. Who created this wonderful place after what is heavily implied to be a violent invasion destroyed his homeland when he was but a child. This past trauma led him to study magic and become a powerful sorcerer so that nothing could hurt him or the people he cared about ever again. His magic is a protection that he extends to all who choose to live in the city. The city is vibrant with a colorful community full of artisans, musicians, and dancers. He takes no taxes from them, but does take their one true wish upon joining this society.

When given these wishes it is understood that he will ensure their safety and possibly grant them one day. Something important to note about the physical manifestations of the wishes is that they give off a warm and comforting aura as they represent some of the purest parts of a person’s soul. Magnifico has been surrounding himself with this magical comfort for a very very long time by himself and I don’t think it’s unfair to say he has become addicted to their presence. The wishes are giving him a magical comfort through the kind souls within them, a feeling he could’ve probably also gotten if he had spent more time with his people.

It doesn’t look like he ever really got the chance to commune with his people properly because somehow the society kicked off on his wish granting abilities. People had to give him their wishes if they wanted them granted and eventually the ones that he couldn’t grant in good conscience or out of fear started adding up so he began locking them away. Keeping them safe so no harm came to the people. The rare occasions that anyone else interacts with these wishes is during wish granting ceremonies that the people are borderline rabid for. With good reason, it is their souls they’re thirsting for after all even if they don’t really know it.

However, Magnifico clearly doesn’t see it that way. He sees it as he’s given these people a wonderful safe haven from the horrors of the outside world where they can be whoever they want to be, do what they want to do, make what they want to make, and still all they see in him is a tool to fastpass to something else they want even more than the peace he’s given them.

This is clearly shown early on, before any of his evil behavior starts to take root, in relation to his assistants. We get a expo dump after the first song telling us that Asha wants to become one of his assistant to increase the odds of her grandfather’s wish being granted as there is a correlation between past assistants and having wishes granted. Something important here is that there have clearly been many assistants, suggesting that it’s a revolving door position without really explaining why. Who would want to keep finding assistants over and over again, when really you should find someone who could do the job long term right? Well we get to find out the likely reason when Asha steps up for the role.

When Asha comes to interview for his assistant position he sees she is nervous, he tries to calm her down, and he even manages to relate to her through fond memories of her kindly father who he clearly knew. After seeing her true resolve to do good he decides to trust her with something few people in the entire kingdom get to see, the vault of wishes. To which Asha doesn’t even hesitate to ask, after politely being told not to prior, if he’ll grant her grandfather’s wish.

Magnifico is blatantly stricken by her request, sadly remarking that most people at least wait a few months before doing so a.k.a pretend to be interested in helping him rather than trying to use him to grant a wish. This is likely why the assistant job is a revolving door. Magnifico tries to find someone who he thinks will truly and selflessly fulfill the role only to discover time and again that people are just using it to get direct access to him to ask for a wish. Then he can’t trust their true intentions anymore and moves them along.

After Asha makes her request he does take the time to look at her grandfather’s wish but dismisses it as too dangerous because it is the vague desire to inspire the next generation. Clearly we as the audience know that her grandfather means to inspire them to do good, but we have to remember Magnifico has seen the worst of society. He has seen the darkest wishes and desires of mankind and survived them. He brushes Asha off telling her she’s too young to understand, which is honestly true. She’s lived her entire life cloistered in peace and comfort thanks to him and the rules he has made. She has never had to know war, strife, or hardship thanks to him, yet she doubts his decision without understanding the trauma that guides it. This is what I believe pushes Magnifico into his villain arc, something that I don’t think we’ve ever really witnessed in a Disney movie.

Usually a villain already is the villain by the time the film rolls around, even the twist villains. Lotso had already been deliberately sentencing other toys to torture. Prince Hans was already planning to murder his way to a throne. Evelyn was already plotting her revenge. Magnifico wasn’t though. He was the hero. He had saved his wife and a whole city’s worth of people from whatever drove them from the mainlands. He wasn’t physically abusing/mistreating people like Gaston even if he was vainly basking in their adoration.

When Asha pushes him on the wishes he pulls back from her, identifying her in his mind as a threat and treats her as one. He dismisses her and tells her that her family’s wishes will never be granted by him, but he will still keep them safe as he has been doing. Essentially meaning nothing will change for her from what it has been. You know a happy loving existence of complete acceptance and wholesome family life or as Asha interprets it, a fate worse than death.

His interaction with Asha triggers him, as she’s pushed at the flaws in his reasoning for holding onto the wishes. The flaws are true, but his mind is clouded by fear of a lack of control, likely stemming from the horrors he witnessed in his childhood when he had no control. He also likely has a bit of an addiction to the warm fuzzies that the wishes give on top of his fears. While he’s ruminating on that some massive wave of magic blows through the kingdom and messes with the thing he’s already stressed beyond reason about, the wishes.

Magnifico frantically searches for any answer, even considering a dangerous tome of forbidden magic that he knows is trouble before his wife manages to talk him down.

The fact that he could even be talked down rather than ignoring her outright shows that Magnifico does have good in him. He’s just reacting out of a genuine panic. His panic is only worsened by huge mob continuing to beg him for wishes in exchange for doing what should be the selfless act of defending their kingdom from what is essentially perceived as an attack. Not having any faith left in his people he turns back to the evil book to give him the key to stopping this perceived attack.

Just to be clear King Magnifico goes to the big bad evil book not to gain more power for funsies, but to try to find a way to stop a perceived threat. Everything he does from this point on, such as threatening his wife, can no longer be fairly tied to him, because as the movie repeatedly tells us he is under the EVIL book’s influence. His wife even looks through the same book to try and see if there is a way to break the sway she knows it has over him, but says she can’t because the EVIL book said no.

Yada yada yada and Magnifico is sealed inside a magic mirror and smugly told to rot in the dungeon by his previously loving wife.

Seriously?! What the heck?! This guy was the perfect candidate for rehabilitation. He wasn’t flawless, but he wasn’t a murderous psycho like most of the other Disney villains. Disney loves to preach kindness, acceptance, and good will with their heroes, but never does it allow the message of change.

I was shocked going back through the catalogue and slowly realizing none of their villains, regardless of how tragic their origins are, are ever truly allowed a second chance. The hero may offer it, but the baddy never is truly expected to change or reform. Which is honestly super messed up to me. People make mistakes. Some can be small/insignificant, but some are big and do hurt people sometimes. That doesn’t mean they can’t change for the better.

Now I’m not saying every villain is redeemable or good, it’s just a bit surprising that for all the messages of kindness and acceptance we haven’t really gotten forgiveness in 100 years. Seeing the “bad guy’s punishment” just deeply bothered me this time. Probably because so much of the bad that Magnifico does is clearly a trauma response and as a punishment for not acting appropriately to said response he gets sentenced to eternity is magical cell.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Seventeen}

Alastor x (Fem)Reader

Alastor wasn't in the hotel the next day, I suspected him to be off causing chaos and overall calamity. But then again, he could have just been home. Which by the way, it seemed that no one in the hotel knew where Alastor stayed, other than the hotel.

Not even Charlie. I couldn't give directions even if asked, all I knew is what his home and the surrounding area looked like. Other than that, I couldn't help but feel there was something off with him last night. His grin wasn't as wide, and there was this look in his eyes...

I couldn't quite describe it.

Maybe I should have just kept my secret to myself last night. It wasn't anyone's business, much less their problem. No one needs to or wants to hear about it.

I sigh and make my way down the stairs of the hotel into the lobby. I was greeted by Charlie. "Good morning, Y/n!" She says as she approaches me. "I wanted to thank you for those ideas you gave me. Everything we talked about came in today. I don't play a ton of video games, but I had fun playing the ones we have." I couldn't help but smile. "I'm glad I could help."

Charlie gave me a tight hug before pulling away. "With this, we are one step closer to bringing in new patients! And, one step closer, to you being redeemed!"

My smile fell slightly. "Yeah...Hopefully." This whole redemption thing had me thinking. If I were casted out of heaven, it had to have been for a reason. I don't know what I did, but it must have been pretty bad for God to throw out one of his angels.

What had I done? What had I said? Even if the chance of redemption was possible in a place like this, who's to say God would forgive me?

If I truly were meant to be in heaven, I would not be where I am now...

Maybe I deserve this...

All of a sudden, I felt unwell. "Um, Charlie, I think I'm gonna get some fresh air." Charlie gave me a concerned look. "Are you still not feeling well?" She asks. "I'm not sure, I just..." I trailed off. Charlie put her hand on my shoulder. "I know it's tough right now." She says in a hushed voice, as not to draw attention.

"But it will get better. We'll figure something out. I promise you, you're going to be ok soon. You just have to keep your head up, and have faith in us. Just like we have faith in you." I only nodded, fearing I'd start to cry if I spoke. "Take all the time you need." She says before I walk past her.

I know I wasn't suppose to leave the hotel without Alastor. But I didn't care right now. I couldn't take this. I stepped outside of the hotel and walked down the stairs, pausing after descending the last step.

I look up, same red sky, same pentagram, same feeling of being trapped. Tears began to run down my face, I choke out a sob before falling to a sit. I hug my legs to my chest and hide my face in my knees.

I'm an idiot. At the end of the day, Alastor is not all-powerful. What can he really do to help me? So far, he's done nothing significant. That deal I made with him...I might as well just ask him to take my soul instead of just dancing around it.

I was going to be stuck down here forever.

"I never did like seeing a lady cry."

My crying paused, I slowly lifted my head to see Alastor standing before me. "What troubles you this time, dear?" He asked. I was so upset, so hurt, I felt betrayed by my own god, and I was angry. So, it didn't surprise me when I finally lost my temper.

"What do you think!?" I snap. "I'm going to be trapped here for all eternity! There is no hope for me, there never was! If I'm down here, I'm down here for a reason! There is no going back!" I stood up. "And that deal I made with you, either call it off, or just take my soul because I'm done!" My voice cracked, my anger dissolving into sadness once more.

"I wish you had never found me! I wish you never had given me hope that there was a way out! I wish you had just left me in that ally to die!"

"Death would would be better than this." I mutter. "Lost...Abandoned, without an answer as to why...I can't go on like this for the next eternity...I just can't..."

Silence fell upon the two of us. I might have made him angry by snapping at him like that. But I just don't care anymore. If he does end up getting mad and killing me right here and now...then so be it-

"I think it's about time you get a reality check."

I look at Alastor, his demeanor was clam and controlled. "You are right, in one way. You are trapped down here. There is no escaping Hell, and this silly little hotel and the princess' false hope, is only going to further fill your head with delusions." Oh wonderful.

"Great, so what? I'm just your slave now?"

Alastor stepped closer to me. "Let me finish. I can't get you out of Hell, I'm afraid that's out of my control entirely. You are right about that. But, preferring to die over finding a new purpose? How wrong you are. My dear, look around you. This place will eat you alive. So why not do something about it?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It will take some time, but with my help, I say you'd make a fine demon. Though, only on the inside. Physically, is where the challenge lies."

"I can't be like that."

"And there is your problem. There is no one here to judge you for what you do now. No one frankly gives a damn down here. This isn't Heaven, this is Hell. And if you don't bite first, you'll be bit. And I assure you, Hell will bite down hard and not let go."

I took a moment to think about his words. He had a fair point. There was no judgement in Hell, no punishment. You could murder, steal, drink and drug yourself half blind, and no one could tell you you're wrong or tell you no.

But Hell would destroy you mentally and physically. If I couldn't get stronger, I'd be hurt or killed regardless.

Why should I have to suffer any longer than I have? Why should I allow myself to be walked all over? And for what?

I clenched my fist tightly. "Fine. I'll do it. Whatever it takes, I'll do whatever you want. Just help me, and this time...actually help me."

Alastor grins. "Excellent. Now, I'll do you a favor and call off our last deal. But, we're going to make a new one. This time, I'll help you become a proper demon. And in return, you keep doing what you've been doing."

"Amusing you?" Alastor nods. "But, I haven't...have I?"

Alastor only chuckles before continuing. "Do we have a deal?" He asks. I look down at his outstretched hand. I slowly take it.

"Deal."

[thelampisaflashlight]

Names

[It's Dew lore time, because why not?] Below the cut.

A soul awakes in the darkness, cold.

But not alone.

It flickers like fire, a soundless whimper of confusion.

Of fear.

And in that moment, an all consuming warmth encompasses it.

Holding so gently, yet trapping it behind unseen walls.

A voice drones, somewhere far away and yet so close by it makes the soul ripple and twitch like water.

"I, who have lived in shadow since before it was known to mankind..."

"...Who was cast out and let to rot..."

"...Grant you, who knew both light and faith..."

"...Who sought Heaven and likewise fell from grace..."

"...a chance at redemption."

In Hell, Dew's name had been Parva, a word which, in Latin, means "Small" and "Unimportant".

His mother had chosen it the day he hatched.

"I had thought you were going to die."

She said when he was old enough to understand the meaning of it, of why it was such a cruel name to be given.

"Perhaps I wanted you to."

And Dew, ever determined to prove himself, lived and grew in spite of her wishes.

Still, so long as he was in Hell.

He was Parva.

He was small and unimportant.

And every beast that could understand, and those who need only see him to know, would take it upon themselves to remind him he was unwanted and weak.

He learned to fight.

Learned to sink his teeth into the necks of many of his kin.

To tear without mercy, for no one had shown it to him.

He would be as wicked and cruel as he needed to be in order to survive.

But still...

Still, there was a part of him that longed for something different.

And in his searching, he found Mist, whose name in Hell was simply "Aqua".

A name given to kits born of water with no pack, no family.

Together, they survived.

Until Mist heard a voice.

A calling from nowhere and everywhere.

And like that, she was gone.

Dew had been so pathetically lost then.

Sad and alone.

But more than that...

He felt a rage.

An indignation the likes of which he had never felt before.

He screamed and cried, wondering why he didn't get chosen, why only Mist got to leave this wretched place.

And then he remembered and laughed.

He was nothing.

The years would go by and Dew would find himself one among a pack of a hundred, all answering to one dominant ghoul.

A fierce and wicked tempered fire ghoul who renamed him to Donum as a joke.

"Since you were so keen to give yourself to me as if you were something precious." He'd laughed in his face, but still called Dew to his side often.

Beckoning to him like a dog.

And Dew, who was bereft of affection, had all but crawled to him time and time again...

Until that bastard made the mistake of inviting him into his bed.

The chaos that ensued when he dragged his body by hair and horn out of his fortress and cast him upon the rock outside...

Dew should have felt powerful.

But instead he felt... hollow.

He felt... guilty.

Ashamed at what he had done.

But as he tried and failed to convince himself that he could have been happy continuing to play to the whims of a mad man...

Dew heard a voice.

A calling.

From nowhere and everywhere.

And when he next awoke, it was to the sounds of...

Well, in retrospect, he knows they were birds, but a live in Hell had not told him much about what Earth, the surface, was like.

Stumbling over his tongue, he can remember asking, so genuinely curious...

"Is that?"

"Hm?"

"Whaaat isss that?"

"That's a bird." Omega told him, smiling so softly Dew had reached out and poked his face, uncertain what it meant.

"Is that?" he asked, squishing the older ghoul's face.

"Which part?"

"Mouth. Up."

Omega looked at him so heartbroken then.

"I'm smiling."

It took a while for Dew to adjust to life on the surface, and in that time, he found himself with a new name.

"Dewdrop. It means a drop of dew. Dew is... small drops of water that forms on things at night."

Dew had furrowed his brow at the word "small", but accepted the name nonetheless, though he wondered...

"Parva? Yeah, I've heard others name their kits that before." Alpha had said, "It's a... I don't remember the term for it cause it's been years, but it's basically a temporary name."

"Temporary?"

Alpha nodded.

"You name kits things like that as a way of... I dunno, changing their fate? If you name your kit 'Parva', you're basically making it so people don't, uhh... It's like the evil eye stuff." He explained, "You give your kit a silly or slightly rude name to avoid incurring sky man's wrath or something like that."

"Sky man?"

"The big man upstairs."

Dew blinked at him.

"Papa Nihil is not very tall..."

Alpha smacked the back of his head.

"The G word, Dew boy."

"Oh." Dew hummed, "So... Naming your kit that because you thought it was going to die..."

The way Alpha looked at him then.

It was the only time he'd seen the man look so sad.

"You're not Parva anymore, Dewy... You're Dewy." he had said, "You're our stupid little Dew boy, our Dewdrop."

"When you say it like that-"

"Shut up, you know I'm not good at words."

So... Dewdrop then.

Or Pordwed, if you spelled it backwards.

He'd done that a couple times to prove to Omega he was okay after clonking his head or drinking too much.

Dewdrop.

Yeah, he could live with that.

[trans-queen-administrator]

I really love how Taylor can either hold a grudge forever or have it disappear alarmingly fast, and it all depends on if she acts on her anger at first. Like she forgives and is willing to work with Sophia after the bullying, Lung after he tried to kill her, Rachel after she tried to fuck her over, Defiant after the everything. Like most people wouldn't forgive all those acts and trust those people afterwards, but she hardly even considers otherwise because she believes that people should work together against unbeatable foes despite their differences and when she fights alongside someone she kind of just forgets the things they've done.

When she acts on something though, when she acts immediately in an irreversible way the people she lashes out against are immediately marked as 100% irredeemable evil bastards in her mind. Alexandria, she doesn't regret the murder in the slightest despite the fact that it had consequences and Alexandria isn't a being of pure evil. Since she killed her she has to convince herself that it was right and just and that she doesn't regret it, which erases any nuance Alexandria had in her mind that would lead to her forgiving her. She does this again a buncha times throughout the book. Against the C53s in the Cauldron raid she thinks about how everyone in the crowd could be innocent, forced to go along with the mob out of fear that they'll be next and with no chance or choice of getting away and being peaceful. But then she dangles a disintegration knife into all their faces to kill Mantellum and suddenly they're all monsters who delighted in torturing innocents and all voluntary members of the mob and none of them deserved any mercy because they're Evil Bad People, so she'll never lose sleep or forgive them.

Aisha points something like this out in 29.5 actually, she says her and Alec had an argument over it because Alec was annoyed at how quickly and easily Taylor stopped being mad at her bullies and didn't want revenge. I think Alec equated Sophia to Heartbreaker in his mind because they caused both their respective triggers, and he can't fathom the idea of someone not wanting to slowly torture and kill their Heartbreaker to make them feel an ounce of the pain he felt, and honestly Alec is the normal one here I think? I think most parahumans would get revenge on the people who caused their triggers in a heartbeat if given an opportunity, and honestly poor Alec imagine trying to understand and make sense of your dulled emotions and Taylor Hebert is there as the worst example ever with her weirdo decisions. Aisha defended Taylor and her choice to not get revenge but she still got revenge for Alec because she hold grudges for herself and other people.

Letting go of hatred to someone isn't something other people can really do like Taylor. Going back to Aisha, she fucking despised Bonesaw during Gold Morning and hated how she got a redemption, but Taylor was fully willing to work with someone who sawed her skull open for the greater good when it would be completely fair for her to never want to get help from her. Idk what my point is here I just think it's really neat that unless someone is her enemy right then and there or unless she already killed that person and sorted them into the Bad Person Category, Taylor is willing to forgive anything and everything to make sure everyone works together.

[firecrackerhh]

I sometimes wonder if the reason (if not at least one of many reasons) why antis are so against Hazbin Hotel as a show (besides the obvious anti viv bullshit) is because the very concept of redemption is anathema to them.

They do not believe people can change, and thus the entire premise of hazbin, (and frankly helluva too) is something they literally cannot understand. Refuse to understand at the least.

They don’t care about other people, they do not care if their actions in the name of their own twisted form of justice causes undue suffering, they simply want to be seen as a “good person” without putting in any actual effort to be good.

Sure, it’s easy to find a shitty person online and rake them over the coals for things they’ve said or done years ago. Effortless. But it takes real patience, compassion, perhaps slight firmness but certainly no undue cruelty to convince people they need to change, and even then, that’s a personal journey that others can at most try to influence, but they can’t make people change.

And even if the person they’re bitching about does, it’ll never be good enough.

There’s nothing Viv can do to change these peoples minds, nothing we can do. No matter how many apologies she gives they will never accept it. No matter what we say they will never accept that Viv is not fucking Satan incarnate.

Engaging with these people is a waste of time. Always has been. If Viv is so irredeemable to them, they likely look at us the same way.

I wonder what skeletons people like this must hide, anyone who acts holier than thou about being a “better” person while engaging in reprehensible behavior themselves is a rather irritating form of hypocrisy that boggles my mind.

I am no saint, god knows I’m no fucking saint, but I know what’s right and wrong and antis are wrong every. Single. Time. Any evidence they claim to have of Viv’s awful behavior is either nearly a decade old and thus clearly irrelevant given the people who vouch for her in the present, doctored discord messages (which even if they were real, shows no dates, so we have no idea how old those are to begin with) or the ‘evidence’ is so flimsy that if a lawyer looked at it he would say you’re wasting his time.

I think these people don’t like Viv’s shows because they are morally incompatible with it. They do not believe in redemption. They believe once you’ve fucked up in life, that’s it, no second chances.

I fear what they must think of our current prison population. I fear what they might say.

These people have no moral high ground whatsoever.

They dare to talk shit about the fandom, Viv, anyone else associated with the show, pretending that they’re saying what they’re saying in the name of justice, as if attacking people with their past when they have clearly changed and made apologies is in any way a justifiable thing to do.

They don’t have to like Viv, they really don’t, but calling her irredeemable, calling us irredeemable, is fucking bullshit.

None of us are irredeemable.

The fucking conceit. The fucking gall. The fucking balls on these people.

Everyone has the capacity to make good and bad choices in this life. Yes, many people don’t make the best choices, but that doesn’t mean that they should be stoned to death for the most minor of offenses. For shit that’s long been in the past and apologized for.

I’m not going to say I think very highly of humanity as a whole, I’m a fucking misanthrope through-and-through, but I don’t think we’re incapable of being good, or doing good things, we just…choose not to, a lot of the time.

I also do not deny that there are some crimes so horrible that redemption isn’t even on the table, nowhere near it. But I feel like antis treat every perceived fault of Viv as some most grievous sin that must be met with full penance by…doing what exactly?

Apologize? Again, they won’t accept it.

Donate to charities or causes? She gets shit on for it, say she’s “flaunting her wealth.”

Get off the internet entirely? In an anti’s wet dreams maybe.

Her very existence makes them so mad. It would be funny if it wasn’t so fucking pathetic.

These people twist her words in every way imaginable to make her look like some horrible person undeserving of her success, without realizing they make themselves look far worse than her by several measures.

They claim she’s racist and queerphobic, but if anything acting as if BIPOC and queer people shouldn’t ever be shown doing awful things because “bad queer/ BIPOC rep” or whatever I think is just as racist and queerphobic. Minorities are human beings, and as such they are just as capable of being shitty. I already made a post about this before, so I’ll keep this paragraph short.

They claim she’s abusive to her coworkers when it seems the one person bitching about it has no problem putting other past co workers under the bus for their personal gain. Antis claim she’s abusive while engaging in downright emotionally abusive behavior (I know that sounds kinda dramatic but I’m making a point) themselves as they shit on us for the stupidest reason imaginable: liking a cartoon.

They cry about ableism while ignoring their own.

Not that I’m all that offended if I’m honest, it’s just more evidence that antis aren’t any better than the people they bitch about.

I could go on about this for a while but you get the point.

I repeat, these people have no moral high ground whatsoever.

Frankly, as much as it bothers me that they leak patreon shit and whatnot, many fans are actively warning against them, and I think the idea of someone actively choosing to give money to someone they hate just so they have more content to shit on is fucking pathetic and getting upset about it is exactly what they want.

They want you to be just as miserable as they are. They just want to suck all the fun out of this fandom, I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again, these people are tar pits, trying to drown us in their muck. It’s pathetic and sad. No use in having sympathy, they don’t deserve any.

It’s funny how antis scream and cry about how awful we are as they ignore their own sins and mistakes, hypocrites.

If anything, their behavior is far more irredeemable than Viv’s has ever been.

I wonder when they will realize that, if they ever do. I can only hope some of them grow the fuck up and realize what the fuck they’ve done. If the ensuing guilt eats them alive, I can’t say I have pity for them.

Wonder how many of us would accept their apologies, if they chose to make one.

Alright it’s almost 7 am I gotta get to bed. Peace.

🔥🧨~Firecracker out~🧨🔥

[godlyicarus]

people who think azula shouldn't have a redemption arc because that would be "boring" and "why can't villains be evil" need to remember that she's literally a 14 year old girl.

her genocidal father took a liking to her when she was a child because she was a firebending prodigy which meant he instilled his own ideals and morals and behaviours (i.e. fire nation supremacy, aggression, brutality, fear as a tactic to control others etc) into her quite young.

this in turn meant that her mother, despite still loving her, preferred to spend time with zuko who had a gentler nature and took after her more. she's not evil. she's a 14 year old girl who didn't have anyone in her corner and thought her mother hated her and didn't know how to form relationships with anyone because her father didn't let her be a child and raised her to be a soldier/successor to his dictatorship. her humanity and the crux of her characterisation is most evident in the 4 part series finale where we see her unravel, years of abuse and being taught that trust and compassion is weak catch up to her, and she hallucinates her mother telling her that she loves her and cries. zuko had iroh to love him and nurture his compassion. azula had ozai to abuse her and nurture her brutality.

toph says in season 3 that "considering his messed-up family and how he was raised, he could have turned out a lot worse" and azula is the worst case scenario for how he could have turned out, but that's not her fault. zuko was eventually able to redeem himself, and azula would have been able to as well if she was given the chance.

tldr: it's absolutely ridiculous to think that azula was an irredeemable villain that should be "allowed to be evil" when she was just a traumatised 14 year old girl doing what she was raised to do and think was right.

[itjazzbicch]

Escaping False Fate PT. 2

Pairing:  Shang Tsung x Fem Reader 

Summary: Escaping False Fate PT. 1

Making arrangements before putting their plan into effect, the reader is found by Lui Kang, who tries to offer her a chance for redemption, which only angers the reader, so much to the point that she goes through an awakening after returning to Shang Tsung, learning why Lui Kang offered her that redemption, and the feelings that she shares with Shang proving to be another piece of evidence that they can defy their fates...

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI) Unprotected sex, creampie. The reader gets into a fight with Lui Kang, and the reader also goes through an awakening with her powers (won't immediately spoil the story, but I also apologize if I didn't nail down the whole deity thing, lol). A small flashback that is italicized and colored purple!

Word Count: 3.2k 

Taking careful steps in our new plans to take the realms, Shang and I had to stay in the shadows, but even that came with its dangers.

We needed something important, and it was in his old laboratory that Mileena now had on lockdown.

Getting in wasn't an issue. It was a relatively easy task between my stealth and the shapeshifting abilities Shang taught me. The one issue?

Godly powers.

"Y/N. I was hoping to find you. Just not here."

"Lui Kang," The source of all the hatred in my heart, was right in front of me, the last thing I expected, but I wasn't afraid, concealing the scroll I came for in my pouch, "Helping Li Mei to put me back in Le Chin?"

"You disappoint me, Y/N," My blood boiled at his tone, like I was some child whose parent expressed their disappointment, "I had hoped you would redeem yourself since Li Mei said you were well-behaved in Le Chin."

"Well behaved?" I laughed, my eyes beaming into his, "I was only patiently waiting for the perfect opportunity to escape."

"This is not what I had planned for you." This caught my attention, and I was confused as he continued to explain, "The power that you were given was not meant for the evil intentions that Shang Tsung and his titan counterpart lured you into. You and Shang Tsung never should have met. I'd never imagine that Titan Shang- "

"Excuse me?" I had to interrupt him, laughing at the fact he didn't know, "What? I met Shang Tsung long before his doppelgänger came along."

"That should not have been possible," Seeing shock and fear on a Titan's face was a priceless scene, that fear making him ramble, stepping up to me and, like others, trying to pin me against Shang, "Nonetheless, Shang Tsung only cares for himself and having a power like yours in his hands is deadly, not only for the realms but for you. He is using you-"

Before he could finish, a deep rage lit my heart with hellfire, a loud smack echoing as the back of my hand found his face.

"Using me?! Shang is powerful as is, and the only reason that you still live is because of the oppression our enemies tried to keep us down with! I've always stuck by his side, even when we were living like bottom feeders! Thus, I am the only person who's earned his trust and loyalty as he earned mine. We're more than just partners. I know he's no saint, but he has earned my undying loyalty, and I refuse to listen to this!"

All Lui Kang could do was stare off into nothingness, but listening as my anger kept spilling out through my words:

"I lived in the scum of Outworld for ages as a child, no family, nothing till I found Shang! You call that greatness?! Tell me about this 'greatness' that you destined me for!"

Only staring into my eyes, my rage grew more potent, and I began to laugh madly:

"Nothing? Some Titan you are, Lui Kang. How could you let something as important as shaping time as we know it be foiled so easily?"

"It is not an easy task, Y/N-"He breathed in deeply, "Like many others, you can be upset with me about how your life has played out, but I will offer you the opportunity for redemption one last time. Sometimes, we are guided down the wrong path, but it's not too late to get back on track."

"You're serious?" I laughed once more before taking a deep breath, taking stance and glaring into his eyes, wielding my khopesh, "I was destined for greatness, you said? I'll prove that by bringing Shang your head! "

"Just know, I truly wish that things did not have to be this way," He was soft-spoken with his words, but taking stance and with a simple gaze, our hands started to collide in combat.

There was no denying his formidable skills. I was barely dodging his attacks, but one kick was all it took to send me over a table, glass breaking and cutting me as I hit the floor hard, his hope for me still strong:

"Y/N, please reason with me. I do not want to kill you-"

It wasn't that I feared losing to Lui Kang; I remembered Shang explaining that we needed him alive until we got our hands on the hourglass. Needing to think quickly and plan, it struck me.

"Lui Kang-"Panting in the darkness that I was hidden in, there was a sinister smile on my face as I shapeshifted into his lover.

During the scuffle with that other Shang Tsung, I learned of his love for the Kitana from his original timeline, his face pale and drained, stunned by her face.

"Lui Kang?" Even her voice was perfected with my shapeshifting; he was frozen in place, and with a quick jump, my smile flashing, I kicked him; my magic powered into my foot, sending him flying through two walls, unable to help my laugh, "You fool!"

This was my opportunity to escape, and I did so, opening a portal and disappearing before he could recollect himself.

Escaping to where Shang and I were hiding, I needed to sit and think about everything that occurred with one thought circling my mind.

First, Li Mei tried to stray me from Shang, but now Lui Kang found the courage to do so. I didn't understand what they saw in me or why Lui Kang wouldn't tell me.

Lost in thought, I jolted at Shang's voice behind me:

"You returned with the scroll, yes?"

"Of course," I swallowed, handing it to him:

"Good job, my-"Looking at my hand, he noticed the scratches that the shards of glass left on my skin and how I was panting, "What happened while you were gone?"

Already concerned, his pupils grew more as I explained:

“Lui Kang came for me.”

"You're kidding- "

"I am not," I breathed in, "Much like Li Mei, he was trying to offer me 'redemption,' but something he didn't know blindsided him."

"And what was that, something?"

"He thought your doppelgänger brought us together, and for some reason, the thought of that scared him," Growing emotional again, tears formed in my eyes, both of pain and anger, "He tried telling me that you're using me for my power, that having my power is dangerous for us all."

"Hehe, honey," He wasn't laughing at my feelings, but at Lui Kang's proposition, caressing my cheek and smiling, "He fears the fact that you and I are an unstoppable force. If anyone were to use you or feed you lies, it'd be him."

"I know that," I breathed, still lost in the one question I had, "I let my anger best me and was ready to kill him. Every time he stared into my eyes, it wasn't that he feared me, but something that involved me. What is it that I saw in his eyes?"

"Oh no," He shook his head, placing his forehead against mine, "He fears you. He fears your power, and it's already been proven that even Titans can be defeated, which is his inevitable fate."

Nodding softly, I felt more content when he gave me a soft kiss, "How about you take a moment to yourself, and I'll handle the scroll?"

"Thank you, dear," I kissed back, genuinely appreciative, but I wasn't going off to relax.

Going to a dark room, I sat with my eyes closed, retracing my steps in my fight with Lui Kang. There was this feeling that I couldn't explain, but when I was angry, it got stronger.

Could it have something to do with Lui Kang wanting me on his side?

There was only one way to find out if this feeling had more behind it than I thought. Squeezing my eyes closed even harder, I thought of everything that made my heart burn with rage.

As those memories ran through my mind, that feeling started to come around, and then suddenly, my heartbeat turned into a pounding drum, a decisive strike of pain in my head, so unbearable that I held the top of my head, screaming.

"I'm so sorry that I have to leave you, my dear daughter-"

What were these memories? I had no recollection of them, the intense migraine pounding in my head stronger, my cries making it hard to breathe as the memories kept flooding my mind.

"Never be afraid, my child. Your powers may be dormant for some time, but someday, you will be the most powerful goddess the realms have ever known."

Goddess? Despite the pain, I tried to make out the face and voice that was playing in my memory, but it was hazy. Was I an infant when this happened? I never knew my family.

"Y/N?" I could hear Shang's voice, but when I opened my eyes, I couldn't see. I tried to call out for him, but nothing would come out of me; seeing the figure in my memory one last time:

"I know you won't remember me, but know I love you."

"Y/N, let me help you," Shang tried picking me up off the floor, getting me to my feet before I started to stumble over my feet.

Something was overwhelming me, this strange, powerful feeling flowing through me like a drug in my veins, and the more it flowed, the more I felt the need to set it free.

"I d-don't know what's happening to me," I cried, my whole body pulsating, not able to see, but my instincts led me outside.

The wind was cold as it flew past me and felt so reliving, making me notice that my body temperature had skyrocketed.

"I said, let me help y-" Shang was only trying to help, and my denial was annoying him, but everything went silent, and a crack of thunder roared in the sky as I let out a throat-straining scream, that power I was feeling started controlling me, my hands raising to the sky.

"S-Stop this pain," I began to cry harder, clenching my fist at the dark, clouded sky, screaming out, "I SAID, MAKE IT STOP!"

In a swift woosh, all the clouds disappeared, the sky dark as it was the night but clear, revealing countless stars soaring with colors past the moon whose light glistened against me as I dropped to my knees, finally able to breathe, but so drained that new power in me still there, but flowing easily as if it were always a part of me.

"W-What-" Shang was left speechless, just as clueless as me, "What did you just do? The sky-"

The pound in my head was still there, and my vision blurred, but I could see Shang, puzzled and astonished. I had no idea what I had done, but when I yelled to the sky, I could feel this connection, as if I could bend it to my will.

"Shang-" Reaching out for him, I was going to try and explain somehow, but as he approached me, the world seemed to be spinning, falling to the ground as everything went black.

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

I wasn't sure how long I had been unconscious, rubbing my temple as the migraine from before lingered, thinking of those faint memories again, the power I released to the sky.

"What was that?" I whispered to myself, hearing Shang coming to my side:

"You're awake."

He must've brought me to bed, feeling my temple and noticing, "Your fever seems to be going away already."

"I don't know what happened to me," I whispered, explaining, "I felt strange when I faced Lui Kang. So, I tried to bring back that feeling, and I got this migraine, these strange memories-"

"Strange memories?" Only wanting to know the truth behind this, I tried to picture it perfectly in my head.

"I think it was my mother," I could sense that he was puzzled yet again as he knew that I never knew my parents, "It was a woman talking to me, apologizing that she had to leave me. She called me daughter-"

All this happening to me so suddenly brought me to tears, shaking and staring off into space, trying to find the belief in the words of that figure in my memories:

"She told me never to be afraid; that my powers would be dormant, but I would become a-a-"

"A what, dear?" My eyes kept squeezing harder, but the tenderness in his voice made me open them softly, scarcely whispering:

"A goddess."

"Lui Kang's proposition to you," Slow in his words, he stared at me strangely, swallowing down, "It all makes sense now."

"What makes sense?" I cried out of confusion, having to pick myself, "And why are you staring at me like-"

Midsentence, I glanced at a nearby mirror, and my eyes were glowing. The shakes I already had grew stronger, the shock making me spit out:

"I need to find Lui Kang. I need answers now."

"That is the last thing you need to do," He said quickly, laying me back and trying to calm me down, "You will get your answers soon, but if you return to him without any control of this, it can lead to the end of us."

That was a good point, but I was still confused, not sure what to do, covering my face as I cried:

"My whole life, I was a goddess of some sort?"

"If I had to guess, one of your parents was a deity, the other a mortal," Shang's assumption could be the only sort of insight I'd see till we took the hourglass for ourselves, making another good point, "And given Lui Kang's power, he could have surely delayed this awakening thus why he kept trying to tempt you. More than likely, he wanted you on his side before your true power came to intuition."

"We must end him-" I gasped, beginning to hyperventilate. I still had so many thoughts racing through my mind. If I was a goddess, what was I a goddess of? How had I lived my whole life not knowing this?

"And we will," Shang's confidence never died, but he pushed our ultimate ambitions to the side, pulling my hands away from my face, helping me ease down, and cooing, "Just breathe, sweetheart."

"I'm trying-" Taking in a shaky breath, the next few were deeper, and once I was breathing right, he wrapped my arms around him, knowing that I needed the comfort that his hugs brought me.

"That's it. Nice, deep breaths," He whispered, petting back my hair, helping me with another outlook on this situation, "And think of it this way: you're a goddess, sweetheart. That'll make our goal even easier to achieve."

"Once I fully understand this, there is nothing Lui Kang can do," I whispered, hugging him tighter. Shang placed a kiss on my temple:

"Exactly."

I knew that with this turn of events, things were bound to become even more twisted, but I didn't want to think about that, shyly asking Shang:

"Can you lay with me for a while, please?"

Fixing me on my side to make room, he slid into the bed beside me, keeping me against his chest, fingertips running through my hair. I felt at ease as we laid together for some time, clinging to him as I went to speak, but hearing him whisper:

"We were never supposed to meet. That baffles me, but in a good way."

He must've felt my eyes on him, smirking down to me:

"Yet again, another sign that we can defy what that fool calls destiny." 

"Undeniably," I smiled back, picking my head up to kiss him, cooing, "No matter what he says, I just know, deep in my heart, we were meant to be."

Kissing and guiding me to my back, we kept looking at the bright side of things, Shang breathing in against my neck:

"To think I've had a goddess in my arms for so long."

"There's no other who is worthy," I whispered, the need for him strong, sitting up and taking off my shirt, offering myself to him, "Only you, Shang."

"Your loyalty never ceases to amaze me," He smiled more and stripped out of his clothes along with me, a bit teasing with his words as our warm skin met, "How could I ever repay you?"

I knew he couldn't help his ways, his free hand stroking his cock before gliding his tip through my slick, nudging my clit, then circling my entrance, whispering in my ear:

"I think I know the perfect way."

"So perfect," I gasped, his kisses down my neck in a slow, matched sequence with his girth stretching me, thrusting slow and deep as his lips trailed down to my breasts, his tongue flicking across my nipple along with his tip grazing my sweet spot having me squirm and whine.

As good as his pleasure was, something was different than the other times. Not only had it been so long, but it was more intense in passion.

We had never gone for so long before, switching from slow and sensual to quick and pugnacious, earning an orgasm from me in each series.

He showed his actual durability, but even he had his limits. I was clinging to him as if my life depended on it, his name being the only thing to come out of me besides moans, whining at how tight I was around his cock, feeling how he was beginning to throb against my walls.

"No one will take you from me. Never worry again," He was panting, so close to his own high that profound words started spilling from him, our noses together as his tongue rolled into my moans, "My goddess."

I tried to find his eyes, the pleasure making mine roll, only seeing his lower half shining with my sleekness, the pressure against my clit making that shine grow.

"N-Never," I moaned against his lips, clinging to him tighter, rattled by his hips smacking into mine harder and harder, the knot in my stomach beginning to crack and make me drool out, "N-No one!"

My jaw hung with beautiful, silent moans as my walls clamped around his cock, tighter than ever before, eyes wide open, the ceiling swirling above me, his groans flooding my ears as his hot seed streamed as deep as he could reach in my cunt; slow but still thrusting as he finished, keeping himself buried to keep me full of his seed as a little seeped out of me.

His hair was falling towards my face, but it didn't block the passionate look in his eyes. No words. Just a smile, sweat beading down his temple.

"My goodness-" I couldn't seem to catch my breath; between that look in his eyes and the lingering feeling of having all of him for the first time, I whispered, "You're going to get me addicted to that."

Chuckling at me, he was just as serious as me, keeping our hips pinned as we melted together, my heart fluttering rapidly with happiness as his hand rubbed my stomach in soft circles, "It's not like we'll have to worry about it here soon."  

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

[seospicybin]

FATAL ATTRACTION.

PART I

I.N x reader. (s,a)

Next chapter: Part II

Synopsis: Your father as the leader of the Southside must given up something as a penalty for breaking the territorial rules to the Northside leader, Yang Jeongin. It's an exchange that he can't resist, a hidden daughter of the Southside, you.

Author's note: Part II will be out tomorrow! Enjoy this one ❤️

The gun is loaded and his slender fingers are wrapped around the handle.

Pale white skin on cold dark steel, someone's life is right at the end of his finger. The gun is pressed hard against a man's temple and the bullet is only a few inches away from his brain being obliterated. After that, he guesses it's the gate of hell since they're both in the same unholy business.

Jeongin's eyes are nowhere but staring into the other man who's kneeling on the floor, begging for a life that isn't his.

"You didn't hesitate to kill my man when he entered your territory," he says to the begging man.

The man lets out a shaky breath and screws his eyes shut for a second, begging certainly is not his forte, the man is struggling.

He understands that his pride stands between him and what he wants. The pride is coming from the family name that he upholds above everything else.

Unfortunately, Jeongin has a family name to uphold as well and his family wouldn't let this chance easily pass, a chance to win more territory which leads to more power to rule over the city.

Jeongin's family has ruled over the Northside for years and he, the rightful heir to the throne that had been passed down right from his father, leads the family's business.

What kind of business? Anything that brings money, legally or illegally, he doesn't care as long as he gets to maintain his family's prestige name.

And here, the man who is begging for a life to be spared happens to be the one who leads the Southside and his family's mortal enemy with decades-long of enmity that goes way back to when Jeongin wasn't even born yet into the world.

He knows enough that if he should give him a pass he has to get something in return.

"Not my son, please?" The man begs again, bleary eyes filled with fear and the sheen of sweat on his forehead glistening under the dusty light bulb.

Seeing him pathetically begging for him like he is praying to a god makes him feel like playing one, he presses the gun until it digs into the skin.

"Tell me why should I keep him alive?" He asks, giving the man one more chance at redemption.

"Anything but my son!" He answers without a beat.

Jeongin looks down at the man's son who seems to be only a few years older than him. He learned of his mortal enemy's history to know why his son is so important to him. He's the only one who will inherit the Southside, the only descendant left to continue the legacy, the same fate just like him.

As much as he hates to give a shred of sympathy, Jeongin relates so much to that. It reminds him of how his father had sacrificed so much just so he can have all of these because truthfully, a lot would kill to sit on his throne.

His hand loosens around the gun then uses it to scratch his head, thinking of something to exchange for the son's dear life.

A huge chunk of territory would suffice, he reckons.

He smacks his lips together and squats down in front of the father, "In exchange for your son's life, I'm taking Red Lights district from you!" Jeongin says ever so casually like he was asking for a piece of chewing gum while the man's eyes widen in shock.

Not only that he's asking for a big chunk of territory, Red Lights district has clubs, drugs, gambling, and everything illegal that makes money the most, in other words, it's their main source of income. To take it away from him might as well shut down his business and leave so little for settlement.

"I– I can't... can't give you that!"

Jeongin clicks his tongue, dissatisfied with his response.

"You. Are. Not. In. Position. To. Make. A. Bargain. With. Me!" Jeongin enunciates every word with every push of his gun onto the man's chest.

He leans in and stares into the man's eyes, "do you want to save your son or not?"

The man vigorously nods.

"Give me the Red Lights district and I'll let you two walk back to the Southside," he offers again.

"You know what? I'm feeling generous, I'll even give you a ride home!" He adds with an enchanting yet evil grin.

The man closes his eyes again, conflicted, panicked, in fear then glances at his son who's bruised and swollen from being beaten up by Jeongin's loyal subordinates.

Jeongin gestures to his right-hand man, Joon, to get him a paper of agreement of the transfer of property and puts it down on the floor for the man to see.

"All you need is to sign this paper," Jeongin puts then he slams the pen on top of it.

"Then you'll be having champagne in my limousine back to your home and we'll pretend that this never happens!" He concludes with an eased smile, giving him the easiest way out.

The man grips the pen but does nothing to uncap it, he holds the pen in the air for a moment with eyes squeezed shut, Jeongin is testing his conscience: his son or his business?

When the man finally uncaps the pen, Jeongin exchanges a triumphant smile with Joon, knowing damn well that this would earn him acknowledgment from the side of the family that still doubted his leadership.

Jeongin looks at the man again who slowly leans down to jot down his sign when all of a sudden, the man cries and his tears wetting the agreement paper.

"I can't do it!" The man cries, dropping the pen, and covers his face with his hands, ashamed of his decision, of himself.

The smile on Jeongin's face drastically fades like a day turns to night.

He runs out of patience, Jeongin picks up his gun and walks to his son, pulling his body straighter by the collar, pressing the gun close to his temple again, getting the bullet even closer to his brain than before.

"Well, it seems like you choose the hard way!" Jeongin remarks and cocks the revolver, the sound of it magnifies the palpable tension in the basement of some abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, where Jeongin reigns the most powerful, on the Northside.

The bullet is on the cylinder and ready to pierce through the poor man's skull at the gentle squeeze of Jeongin's long forefinger on the trigger.

"I have something else to offer!" The man cries out with his tear-streaked face while holding his hands up in defeat.

Jeongin keeps the gun pressed to the son's head and nudges him with it, tipping his head to the side.

"You don't have anything else that I desire so don't bother!" Jeongin says with sinister eyes, his finger curves around the trigger.

"Please!" The man cries again then crawls until he is close enough to his son, "No one knows about this but I'll let you have it!"

Jeongin is intrigued, he put his finger away and aims the gun elsewhere to make the man relax a little.

"What is it?"

The man is a stuttering mess still "...just... as precious... as my son!"

The son seems to know what his father is willing to exchange for his life. He was silent the whole time but starts grunting through his duct-taped mouth at the mention of it, that only means the man offers him something as precious, or even more.

"Keep it hidden..." the man stutters again, "...no one knows!"

Jeongin scoffs, pitying the so-called man who owns the Southside. He gestures for his man to get them up to sit them down on the worn-out sofa while he sits on the folded chair facing them.

Joon hands the man a drink but he hardly drinks them, the alcohol flooded out of the glass as he was taking a sip, the front of his shirt drenched with it.

"Now tell me more!"

The man wipes his mouth and nervously licks his lip, "I've been keeping this as a secret for years—"

The son grunts again, interrupting his father by headbutting his father's shoulder to stop him from talking and shooting daggers with his eyes.

"I don't have any other choice, son!" The father meekly says to him.

With his eyes, Jeongin orders Joon to hold the son for him so the father can speak in comfort.

Jeongin fills the man's glass with more alcohol and tells him to drink it.

"Relax!" Jeongin says to him as the man drinks his alcohol in one big gulp.

Jeongin pours himself a glass of alcohol and holds the glass close to his mouth.

He takes a moment to take it all in, that the man who owns the Southside is begging him to spare his son's life and he's about to offer him a precious gift in return.

He drinks his alcohol and it feels so sweet on a day like this.

Jeongin slams his empty glass on the table and folds his legs, "Let's do it again from the start, shall we?"

-

It's a slow day on a Monday morning.

You always take the time to take a personal tour around the gallery but the time you spend the most is admiring this painting of a flower field.

The longer you look at it, the more immersed yourself in it.

Maybe you're slowly losing your mind but you swear you feel like swaying away with the wind that is depicted in the painting, how it slips through the grass and brushes your skin.

Every time you look at the flowers, you can feel how soft their petals are without having to touch them.

You sigh and think of how beautiful it would be to just lay on that field with your hands turned up while looking up at the serene blue sky.

And how the painter weaves the delicacy in the painting, you sigh again at how amazing a few strokes of paint on a canvas can make you feel.

You want to meet the man who painted it but it seems impossible because the identity of the painter is still a mystery, they only go by the initial H.

"Is this painting for sale?"

You turn on your heels to find a man in a suit, hair as dark as midnight, sharp jaws, and a pair of foxy eyes.

"This painting?" You ask again, gesturing to the painting you've been admiring for a few days now.

He nods and takes a step forward, taking a closer look at the painting.

"You're the curator, aren't you?" He points to your ID card hanging around your neck.

"Yes." You answer with a smile.

He hums while nodding, "I want to buy this painting!"

You get the impression that this man knows nothing about painting and it's not the first time you met such customers. It's clear that he's one of those rich people who buy whatever they want as they please. They don't care about the price so what makes you think they will care about the art value of the painting they bought?

If they want to buy a painting on a Monday morning? They got it

Therefore, you don't have to waste time sharing some pieces of information about the painting, and leads him straight to where he can process his purchase which consists of signing some paperwork.

The man tells his assistant to do the rest while he walks up to you.

"Congratulations! You just bought a really beautiful painting!" You said to him with a courteous smile.

His foxy eyes deeply stare into yours again while he holds his hand out at you.

You don't hesitate to take it and shake his hand, "hope we get to see you again!

He doesn't say anything in return but keeps staring into your eyes like something wondrous is happening in them.

"Oh, I have a feeling that we'll see each other again real soon!" He confidently says as he lets go of your hand but not his eyes on you.

You don't walk him out of the gallery and let the director of the gallery do the task while you stay inside, watching him get into the car from the window of the second floor.

Rich people behave as they please because they are under the illusion that everything can be bought with money and you met some crude ones.

You met enough to know that he isn't trying to offend you yet he put you a little on edge.

The eyes tell all and his piercing eyes cut through you like a knife through the water.

On weekdays, the gallery closes at 4 pm and the time on your computer screen tells you it's already 25 past 5 pm.

"You're not going home, pup?" Mr. Shin asks. He is an art restorer who has worked for the gallery for almost a decade and still carrying the same leather briefcase since you joined two years ago.

"In a minute!" You replied while saving the files before you forget.

"I'm leaving," he announces.

"Don't want to upset missus again!" He adds while heading towards the door.

You softly laugh and get up from your office chair, "Be careful and send my regards to your wife!" You shout before he exits the door.

He responds with a smile then waves bye at you.

You didn't forget to turn the lights off before leaving the office and carrying your bag in one hand. You walk past the director's office and it seems like she's already left as well.

The security greets you as you exit the back door and you pull your car keys out of your bag since the car is already in sight.

"Excuse me!" Someone asks.

You are only a few feet away from your car when you turn around and someone suddenly holds you from the back, a hand covers your mouth to muffle your cry for help.

Another person ties your hands behind your back and then everything goes dark as someone puts a cloth over your head while your body is being lifted.

You hear a lot at the same time, a car coming and footsteps, someone whispering orders at the same time.

You try to scream but it's no use since you are the last person who left the gallery and no one is going to hear your screams, you also doubt someone is watching you getting abducted through the security footage.

But someone will watch and know and then help you, right?

Someone puts you down on you guess the backseat of a car and then there's the sound of the car door being slammed shut.

The car is moving and is taking you somewhere that you're afraid to guess where.

"Who are you?" You ask to the void or so you think since your head is covered in dark cloth and can't see anything. You believe there's someone else in the car with you because why would they let you alone, unguarded?

"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask again.

There's no answer and the car is taking a complicated route to avoid you know where they are taking you.

"I have nothing. I don't have money or anything. Kidnapping me will get you nothing!" You say again in a shaky tone as your thoughts rush through your head at a light speed and it seems like it's not slowing down any soon.

"Please, let me go!" You begged, this is the last effort you can do to get a response or anything.

But nothing, no answer but the car keeps moving, taking you to your uncertain future.

The car finally stops moving after an hour or so, you stop keeping track of time, and your brain is drained from endlessly thinking all sorts of thoughts, good and bad, everything in between.

They take you out of the car and walk you somewhere, dragging you by your elbow even though you can walk by yourself if they take the cloth off.

Your heels click-clacking against the floor you're walking on, and from the subtle slippery surface, you are sure it's a marble floor. The sounds echo so it gives you an idea of how big the place you are walking into is.

There's a creak coming from the door being pushed open, two big wooden doors from how you have to stop walking and that means the guy who escorts you have to push the door open with two hands.

"She's here!" The man who walks beside you announces.

He drags you by your elbow again and sits you down on a chair. After a moment of silence and someone cuts off the tie that shackles your hands, you take a deep breath before slowly lifting the dark clothing over your head. You close your eyes as the light starts to fill your vision all at once, blinding you.

You blink your eyes a few times to adjust to the light and the first thing you see is his eyes piercing right through your chest.

"Who are you and why are you doing this to me?" You asked since you're still curious as to why someone would bother to kidnap a nobody like you.

"So you don't know?" Jeongin asks back with a slanted grin.

"If you think you can get anything by kidnapping me, you're wrong!" You say again, looking up at him since he is sitting on the long wooden table.

He scoffs and fixes the cuff of his shirt, "but you are the hidden daughter of the Southside leader!"

You don't move despite knowing that you're no longer tied, no one knows this and no one even knows that you exist in the first place.

For the last 23 years since you were born, your father has successfully concealed your existence from the world, no one knows that you're the daughter of the Southside leader and you're grateful that you don't have to live with the notorious family name.

It seems like you are under the illusion that you'll always be safely hidden from the world.

Unless the two people that know about it give the secret away.

"Is it my father?" You guessed, he is the most likely to spoil a secret.

He doesn't respond but gets off the table, walks closer then stops right in front of your chair.

"I heard our fathers fought over your mother," he chuckles because it's baffling him as he recites the tale he heard from his jealous passing mother.

"And I wonder how beautiful she was that my father was willing to kill for her."

He takes even a closer step to your chair, "I saw her picture once and I admit that she really was beautiful."

His hand reaches for your face and holds your chin up with his fingers, observing your face like you're a statue.

"The resemblance is uncanny!" He sighs in disbelief.

"Don't fucking touch me!" You snarl, swatting his hand away from your chin.

He juts his lips then shrugs, "beautiful yet vicious!" He says then turns around on his heels.

"Let me go!" You shout at him.

"I have nothing to do with my father's business!!!" You tried again.

He sits behind a desk and ignores your demand, "Take her to the room and lock her up!" He orders the man who escorts you earlier which you recognize is the man you thought was his assistant back in the gallery.

He drags you by your elbow again and you yank your hand away, "I can walk by myself!"

-

Every day is the same.

You got locked up in your room, a maid only comes to serve meals on the tray if not to clean the room. The closet is filled with clothes from casual attire to ball gowns, you laugh at the irony because it's not like you have anywhere to go.

It has been two weeks, more or less, you stop counting the days because no one is coming to save you anyway.

You got thinner, weaker and your tears dried on their own from the countless night you spent crying yourself to sleep.

You're on the brink of losing yourself to insanity.

"Get up, you have somewhere to go in two hours!"

You don't have to turn your head away from the window to know that it's his right-hand man, Joon, you learned his name since he's the messenger between you and Jeongin.

"If you're not taking me to kill me in the middle of nowhere, I don't want to go!" You replied with a snide remark.

You might as well just die than live like this, chained to an evil man and this shit luck of a fate you have.

You hear Joon heavily sigh then leave, unbothered by your words.

An hour later, the door to your room flies open and heavy footsteps come your way.

"Get up!" Jeongin yanks you by your wrist and forces you to get up from the bed.

"Don't touch me!" You protest, trying to get your hand away from his grip.

"Then do what I tell you!" He says with a heaving chest and lets you go.

With so little energy you have, you stagger backward and fall back down on the end of the bed.

"What do you want from me?" You ask, rubbing your wrist to soothe the pain.

"I want you to obey me!" He replies.

Those piercing eyes have come to the point that they disgust you and make you sick to the stomach, "why should I?"

He bends down to look you dead in the eyes, "do I look like I want you here?"

His hot breath brushes your face as he speaks, "have you ever thought that maybe I didn't kidnap you?"

"Have you ever think why your family suddenly revealed their secret child after twenty years?" He asks, his words sting and your eyes start to water.

"Have you ever thought that maybe you're not that important to them?"

Every question he throws at you feels like a slap to the face and egging on your pain, opening your eyes to the reality of who's the real evil behind this.

He finishes with his forehead pressed on yours and says, "Do the fucking math, princess!"

You close your eyes and hot tears roll down your face, it surprises you that you still have any liquid left in your body to secrete.

"I want her to be ready in an hour!" Jeongin orders Joon and slams the door shut behind him.

"I have a few people to help you get ready," Joon says, he hesitates to get closer to you and stops after a step.

"I'll tell them to come up in 15 minutes!" He says, giving you a little time to mourn for your sad, cursed life.

You feel like a doll being dressed up as three people working at the same time to get you ready so Jeongin can show you off to everyone.

You're the hidden daughter of the Southside leader and you're an arm candy to the man who leads the Northside, after a few trips to his clubs, you learned his true intention. He wants to show the world the jewel crown of his achievement and that is having a Southside daughter under his feet, which will earn him respect and a lot more.

It's the same every other week, you come to the club and just sit still and look pretty next to him like a flower.

And he wants you to do nothing less or more than that.

But that night, a surprise guest comes to the club and insists on seeing Jeongin.

"It's someone from the Southside!" Joon whispers to him and he might have intentionally raised his voice louder so you can hear him too.

"Let him in!" Jeongin says and reclines on the leather sofa with a glass of drink in his hand.

You look at the doorway to see if it's a face you recognize from the Southside and your heart races when you see that it's your brother.

He makes a run for you but someone quickly stops him from getting close to you. He breaks out and sits on the sofa across from you.

"I want to talk to my sister!" He says to Jeongin.

Jeongin doesn't bother to look at the person he's talking to, he's more interested in looking at the sphere ice cube inside his glass.

"She's mine now!" He casually says like you are a mere object.

He puts his glass away and puts an arm around your shoulder, enjoying the hatred in your brother's eyes that is directed toward him when he does it.

"Why? Are you jealous that it's not you sitting beside me now?" He mocks with a lopsided grin.

"You fucki—" your brother holds himself back, knowing that it's not the right place to be reckless, he's powerless here.

He shifts his eyes at you with concern, "are you okay?"

You nod, the tears clogging your throat preventing you from talking.

"Did he hurt you?"

You shake your head but avoid looking him in the eyes.

"You can talk! It's okay," Jeongin says as he pours another glass of liquor.

Your brother's hands are balled into fists on his lap, "I'm sorry that you got caught in this!"

Jeongin stifles a laugh because he knows damn well who gets you into this mess in the first place.

"Its father isn't it?" You ask.

Your brother knows you'll catch up to it because you're smart, his face drops into his hands and he tries to come up with something to say.

"It's okay," you say.

"I know that he will always choose you over me," you tell him.

The nights you spent on your own made you rake your brain for any possible reason why you ended up here and then what Jeongin said earlier stuck with you. You finally come to this conclusion: your family has dumped you.

"He's not—"

"We all know he despises me. He wishes that I had never been born."

The truth hurts but it needed to be said.

Your brother is the only one who treats you like a family, hence he can't lie to your face, he knows that it's true.

Jeongin raises his glass at you, "You finally did the math! Good job!" He says with a sinister smile on his face

Your brother almost jumps at him for making fun of the situation, he succeeds to ignore his remarks and turns to look at you.

"But I care for you!" He sincerely says with his eyes looking deeply into yours.

He is your brother, the only person you trust and you've been relying on. But he's also the one who brought you into this mess.

Betrayal pains you the most when it's coming from someone who's closest to you.

You close your eyes to fight the tears from coming out, "that doesn't change anything," you unintentionally raise your voice at him.

"What difference would it make?"

"You can't save me on your own!"

"It's too late for that!"

You attack him with fact after fact and leave him tongue-tied, unable to speak. He can't find anything to say to defend himself, it is too late to save you now.

"Time's up!" Jeongin suddenly announces and gets up from the sofa.

Getting used to being his shadow, you follow him getting up from your seat and standing behind him. Two of Jeongin's men come into the room and hold your brother down by the shoulders.

Jeongin doesn’t have to say anything again to make you come with him, walking behind him as the two of you make your way to the exit.

Your brother grabs your hand as you walk past him, "I'm sorry."

You yank your hand away from him and look straight ahead, "you're not my brother anymore."

The music inside the club is deafening and the dress you're wearing is suffocating, the lump in your throat making it harder for you to breathe.

Maybe it's the fact that you just cut ties with the only person that you consider as family.

It feels like you just cut ties with the world altogether.

You broke down once you arrive back at the mansion and Joon rushes to help you, kneeling on the floor with an arm around you.

"Are you okay?" He asks, shaking you by your shoulders.

Jeongin turns on his heels and watches you while standing a few feet away from you, unfazed.

"Put your hand around me. I'll carry you to your room," Joon offers, taking your limp arm and putting it around his shoulder.

But your hand gropes around his chest and found the gun inside the pocket of his suit jacket. You succeed to pull it out real quick. Joon was quick enough to catch your hand and yank it back from you, but you don't let him take it away from you.

"What are you doing? It's dangerous!" His concerned voice turns into a mix of panic and an angry one.

He holds the gun but your hand is wrapped so tightly around it and with the strength you have, turning it at your head.

"Kill me! Kill me, please?" You beg with tears flooding your cheeks.

"Stop acting stupid!" Joon snaps at you while struggling to get the gun from you without hurting you in the process.

"I don't want to live anymore and you don't have any reason to keep me! They threw me away so kill me! Kill me!" You beg again.

Joon finally succeeds to get his gun back and hurriedly taking a step back, put the gun as far away as possible from you.

"Give her the gun!" Jeongin coldly orders. His voice cut through the quiet of the room and is as cold as the floor you're sitting on.

Joon who has just placed his gun back into its holster looks at him with uneasy eyes, "Pardon?"

"Give her the gun!" He enunciates the word one by one, confirming that Joon didn't mishear him.

"Make sure it's loaded too!"

Joon hesitantly does what he is told to do, emptying the clip and showing you that there's not one bullet missing. He loads the clip back into the gun, then hands it to you. There's a second of pause before he puts it on your open palm and guided your fingers to wrap around it.

It's cold and heavy in your hand, so this is what death feels like.

You look at the gun closely and take a second to admire the person who invented a tool that makes death as easy as pulling the trigger with your finger.

You roughly wipe your eyes since they're blurry with your tears then bring the gun close to your head and press the end under your chin.

All of a sudden, Jeongin let out a laugh and it echoes in the empty hall, "Now I see why they dump you!"

He laughs again and licks his lower lip, "if you put that bullet in your head, you're only proving that you are worthless and it was the right decision for them to dump you."

He put his hands behind him and observe you like you were a wounded animal in a cage, pathetic and helpless but he can't do anything about it.

He approaches you and leans down to look you right in the eyes, "If you hated it so much, why would you die with that name?"

His gaze lingers on and you can see the disgust in his eyes. And you hate that he is right, his words feel like a slap in your face.

He walks away and then stops on his track, slowly turning at you to say, "If I were you, I'll make a name for myself! Make them whisper my name in fear! Make them regret casting me out!"

Jeongin shoves both of his hands into the pockets of his trousers, "but of course, you're too weak for that too."

He laughs again and walks further into the house, "Please, don't bleed all over the marble floor. Joon can show you a better place to do it!" He nonchalantly says without looking at you.

He leaves you there, on the floor with the gun pressed under your chin.

Maybe he is right, you are too weak and you don't have it in you to live with your family name.

You loop your finger on the trigger but not pulling it yet.

"Just think about it! Please?" Joon begs again with a pleading voice, hoping to stop you from making a bad decision.

"I can't live like this!" You say between your choked sobs.

"I'll help you! I can help you!" Joon's offers come out of the blue.

"How?" You scream.

"Put the gun down first!" He commands.

Your finger lingers on the trigger and all you need is one gentle push then...

Then again, Jeongin is right, you don't have it in you.

Your hand goes limp and the gun falls off, clattering onto the floor.

Joon kicks the gun to get it away from you, then helps you get up as your body goes limp from malnourished, adrenaline, stress, and everything that makes you feel that you're dead inside.

-

Joon comes to your bedroom in the morning and makes sure you eat your breakfast, watching every spoonful of food that goes into your mouth.

"You've been doing it wrong!" He says as he goes to open the window and fills the room with fresh spring air.

"What?"

He sits on the stool across from you, "I've known Jeongin since we were little. We practically grew up together."

Isn't that obvious? Joon is the only person you know is the closest to Jeongin, it comes to your knowledge that he's not a part of the family so the only conclusion you have is that he grew up with him.

"I know him well enough to know that going against him will never get you anywhere," he explains, taking a piece of a ceramic miniature from your vanity table to play with it.

"You're only riling him up and making him detest you," he adds.

You can trust him, right? Because Joon has been nothing but nice to you.

"Then what should I do?" You ask.

"Soften him. Try to be good and just do whatever he says, I promise you he likes obedience more than anything."

He twirls the miniature in his palm and pauses, "no wait, obedience is the second on his list."

That intrigues you, "then what's the first?"

"Loyalty."

It's interesting. You thought that he would put his family over anything else.

"He has no reason to keep you here, that's true and perhaps, if you did soften him and the timing is right, it's possible to get what you want," he furtherly explains and leans against the vanity table.

Joon makes it sounds so easy to you, "I don't know that seems..."

He smirks at how you doubt him right away.

"Jeongin might seem difficult but you only need to know which button to push," he says and puts the miniature back in its place, "just one right button!"

He gets up from the stool and looks down at your breakfast tray, "maybe you can start by not looking like an ET first," he jokes.

You roll your eyes at him, slightly annoyed.

Everything that Joon shared with you stayed with you the whole day.

Jeongin never laid his hand on you to harm you unless it was necessary and it was always because you provoked him first.

He doesn't have any intention to harm you but keep you trapped here, being his little doll.

And maybe this little doll can gets what she wants if she sits still and looks pretty for him, nods to everything he says, and smiles because she doesn't know how to do anything else.

If that's what he wants, then you'll give him that.

-

The rose's rarest essence lives in the thorn.

For him, you are a rose but lack that rarest essence.

To be that beautiful yet so fragile, a delicate thing that is so exposed to the cruel, cruel world.

Should he help you grow some thorns or should he protect you more from the world?

He can't decide yet.

After that night when you went to your wit's end, something changed.

He admits he was too harsh at you that night but he knows he's right, but a little part of him still worries that you took his words by heart, or worst, broke you more.

You are broken, yes, but humans are never irreparably broken. We can always heal, we can always piece ourselves back little by little until we're whole again. We always do.

Maybe this change is you piecing yourself back together and he can see you.

A beautiful rose you are!

Blossoming smiles, the twinkle in your eyes, and the echo of your laughs in the hallways that are usually occupied if not by the dead silence, it's the heavy footsteps of his men coming with information for him.

He follows the source of the sound to find you helping in the kitchen, kneading dough on the kitchen island with your flour-dusted hands.

On another day, he watches you swimming from the balcony where he can see your body slicing through the water and the shape your body took as you come out of the water.

That quite resembles how Aphrodite was born. You weren't born from the foam of the sea but you do own the beauty of the goddess of love.

And if you're not swimming or walking around the garden, you hide in the greenhouse and read the book you secretly borrow from his library.

By the night before the old clock in the mansion struck midnight, you're already in your room and tucked in for the night.

This sudden obedience astounds him but at the same time, sparks his curiosity. There must be something behind all these good girl behaviors.

"Arrange a dinner!" He orders.

Joon puts down his glass of whiskey and takes out his phone, "the usual place?"

"Yes."

"How many people?"

"Two."

Joon slyly smiles, "it's not a business dinner, I reckon?"

Jeongin doesn't answer but looks out of the window and sees you walking out of the greenhouse.

"And get her ready for it!" He adds.

When it finally registered to him, Joon nods in acknowledgment and gets up from his chair.

"Sure!"

Jeongin booked the whole restaurant just for you and him where the chef cooks the dish from the finest ingredients and serves the most exquisite wine with its aphrodisiac smells that instantly relaxes you.

It's the first time that you're out of the mansion yet you seem so calm and collected.

Again, he admits that you look so beautiful in that dress, deep blue like the color of the pacific ocean.

You thanked and praised the chef for every meal, but you show less enthusiasm when they serve the desserts.

There's no meaningful conversation in between the meals so he wonders what changes.

"You don't like the dessert?" He asks.

You shake your head and smile, "it's just so pretty."

And you thank the chef again for it.

"Is there any reason why we're having dinner together?" You ask.

Jeongin triumphantly smiles, it's not hard to make you finally ask the question he wanted you to ask.

"Because you've been very good lately," he simply answers and lifts his wine glass to take a small sip.

"I think you deserve a nice dinner," he adds as he puts down his wine glass.

The night doesn't stop there, he takes you on a little stroll around the city just to see how are you going to react.

He wants to know if you're tempted to flee or pull an act, instead, he watches you shivering from the gust of cool night air.

He puts his suit jacket around your shoulders.

"Thank you," you sweetly mutter with the moon reflected in your eyes.

"Should we head home now?"

You nod with a smile.

Arrives back in the mansion, walks you to the door of your bedroom, and stands there in front of you, looking at your face with an intense gaze.

"Thank you for the dinner! I had a nice evening," you say to him.

He only smiles in response.

"Oh yeah, this," you shrug his jacket off your shoulders and hand it back to him.

He grabs your hand instead of the jacket from you, "Is there anything you want?"

Your eyes widen in surprise or maybe this is what you've been waiting for him to say.

He slides his hand up to your elbow then pulls you closer, "you can tell me and I'll give it to you."

With the other hand, he brushes your hair to the side and lightly caresses your cheek, "you deserve it," he says with a voice so low it's almost like a whisper.

You swallow air before answering, "I—"

Jeongin lifts your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes, he leans in close you can see yourself in the irises in his eyes.

"Come on, tell me..." he murmurs with his lips only inches away from yours.

You try again to focus on answering him, "I—"

This time, he cuts you off with a kiss.

He knows that those lips would be soft, but Jeongin doesn't expect them to be that soft.

He let the kiss sweep you away and takes you out of your head for a moment. It's just your lips on his lips in an enamoring kiss.

He can easily carry you to the bed and have you pinned underneath him, kissing you more, deeper, and harder that breathing is no longer necessary to him.

Doesn't want to waste another second, his hands start to explore your body, touching your miles and miles of silky smooth skin that make him whimper against your lips.

His hand goes down your thighs and pulls the hem of your dress so he can touch you there.

Then he can feel that you're stiffening under him, your legs are pressed shut and your hands are on his chest, keeping a space between your bodies.

No matter how much he likes kissing you, Jeongin abruptly stops and retracts himself from you.

He may be a bad person, but he's not a vile man who fucks a girl against her will.

"Don't force yourself, I know you don't want to do it," he breathlessly says.

You slightly get up from the bed, "but it is what you want, right?" You ask and reach for him again.

He jerks away and puts your hand away, "just tell me what you want!"

He met a lot of people and a lot more variety of evil people, but he knows the tricks people usually do to get what they want.

The dinner is just to let you know that he acknowledged your effort to get his attention and you did a wonderful job at it.

But now, it's time to find out what you want to gain from it.

"Let me go," you meekly answer.

"I am worth nothing anymore therefore I'm holding no value as your hostage. Just let me go and I'll disappear from your life forever," you breathlessly explain the reason behind your demand.

"I promise. Please, let me go!"

For a split second, you remind him of how your father begged for your brother's life. Thus, reminded him how easily he gave you away in an exchange for your brother.

It disgusts him how easy for you to say that you're worth nothing.

"I'll let you go," he says.

Your face lights up hearing his words.

"But with one condition!"

Your face goes dim in a second but there's a flicker in your eyes, "I'll do anything! Anything!" You eagerly say to him.

Jeongin fixes his shirt and his cuffs, "you have to marry me!"

And it's like all the happiness drained out of you in a second, your face turns pale and your hands fall to your lap.

"How can I marry you? We're— We— I don't even know you!" You stammer, confused and shocked at the same time.

Jeongin gets off the bed and picks up his suit jacket from the floor, "well, that wouldn't be hard since we're living together!" He nonchalantly says without looking at you.

He puts his suit jacket back on then walks to the door, he lingers there, then turns around to look at you one more time, "and don't worry. I'll never touch you again without your permission!" 

Jeongin walks in the direction of his office for a quick talk with Joon but finds him as he walks past the dining room, eating by himself.

"Oh, I didn't know you were already home!" Joon gasps with a stuffed face, a red jam smeared in the corner of his mouth.

Jeongin pours himself a glass of water, "what are you eating?"

He slides the plate toward Jeongin and lets him have a piece.

"Cherry pie!" He exclaims as he bites into a piece of cherry from the filling.

"It's good, right?"

He shrugs but Joon knows him well enough to know that means he likes it.

"She made this all afternoon for tonight's dessert," Joon informs.

"You're lucky I left you some," he adds with a chuckle.

Jeongin takes another piece and shoves it into his mouth, feeling that burst of that tangy mix of sweet and sour. Now he knows why you look a little sad during desserts.

"Sweet," Jeongin says.

"I know right?" Joon chimes.

But Jeongin isn't talking about the pie.

-

It's been a week now but still.

Marry him?

Ugh, the more you replayed those words in your head the more pissed you are at him, the more you pissed the more you wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

But as far as you can get is the greenhouse.

And you've been stuck on the same page of the book you're reading because your head can't stop replaying his words that are impossible for you to fulfill.

Why did you have to say you'll do anything? Anything? You hit your forehead with the book repeatedly.

You can foresee your future from here and it looks grim.

You cover your face with the book next and hope that it will teleport you somewhere or the page magically sucks you into the story, Victorian era is way better than here.

How people back in the day are okay with arranged marriage? How is it okay for them to marry someone they don't know? How can they have a marriage without love? Why would they marry a...

"...this is going to work just like we planned! Trust me!"

You jolt awake from the long bench you're lying down on and hear someone talking just right outside the greenhouse. You can only make out the shape of them through the foggy glass wall, two men huddling together and whispering into each other's ears.

"If you look nervous, he'll know that we're up to something!" One man says to the other.

"We're just going to rob one of his compounds and what damage it will do? he'll only lose a little fortune, he'll forget it in no time.

For a man who persuades another man to commit treason, he's quite convincing.

"What makes you think he'll not suspect us?" The agitated man asks while rubbing his hands together despite the day being warm with a clear blue sky.

"We've been doing business together for years now, he trusts us and in my experience, he'll always pay back no matter how much."

The agitated man is intrigued, "so we're not only getting money from our rob but also getting the money back from him?"

The confident man laughs, "I told you, it's good money and we only need to pull it out once!"

The agitated man who seems to be the one with power is assured that the plan is going to work and trusts his accomplice.

You accidentally drop your book and it hits a potted plant, the two men hear and look around to find the source of the noise.

One of them wipes the glass clean and looks inside, you hurriedly squat down, hiding behind the row of potted plants.

"Are you calm enough now?" The confident man asks.

"I guess, yeah."

"Let's go then!" He says and starts walking toward the mansion.

Without thinking, you sprint out of the greenhouse and into the mansion through the kitchen door. You're going through one room to another to find Joon and tell him about two men conspiring against Jeongin. You must tell him before they come into the house.

You almost bump into the maid and quickly ask her if she sees Joon.

"He's in the office!"

You break into a run to go to the front office to the part of the mansion where Jeongin first took you, this is where he takes care of his business.

"Joon! Joon!" You call even though you're still a meter away from the door of the office.

You open them all at once then close them behind you, you sigh when you see him inside.

"Joon, I have to tell you something, there are..." you pause to catch a breath while clutching your chest.

"It's not a good time!" Joon tells you as he approaches you.

You get to him first and grab him by the elbow, "It's important, I swear!"

Joon looks away to the other side and you follow to where he's looking, the two men are already there, sitting at the long table.

"We have guests," Joon tells you, "but if it's that important, you can tell me!"

You smile at the two men and then look back at Joon, "I'll tell you later!"

He wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion.

You get out of the office and run to Jeongin's bedroom, it's your last chance to let him know that someone is planning bad to his compound.

You break into his bedroom without knocking and find him tying his tie in front of the full-length mirror, he only looks at you for a second before back looking at his reflection, totally unbothered by the sudden visit you make to his bedroom.

"Haven't you been avoiding me lately?" He says, setting the knot close to his collar.

"Or you've given up already?"

You scoff at his words but for the innocent lives that will be taken in his compound, you're willing to let it slide.

"They're going to rob your compound!" You hurriedly say before forgetting why you came here for.

That catches his intention and he turns around to face you, "who?"

"The two men who just came in today!" You tell him.

"The Park brothers?"

"They're brothers? But they're different"

Jeongin gives you a perplexed look.

"Anyway," You immediately retrace your conversation back to where you started.

"They're going to turn against you!"

Jeongin walks up to the chair and grabs his cufflinks from a velvet box.

"They paid a few men to rob your compound, the one where you produced their order and they will blame it on you so you'll have to pay what you owe them but also get the money from the products they robbed!" You explain as detailed as possible and make it concise due to the limited time you have.

"They're not going to do that," he coyly says and picks up his suit jacket.

"I heard them talking when I was in the greenhouse. Trust me!" You beg, following him to wherever he goes in his bedroom.

He turns around and almost bumps into you, "I've been doing business with them for years and so far, I have no problem with them so why should I trust you whom I have only known for a few months?" He asks.

Is this his way to get back at you for rejecting his marriage proposal because you said you didn't know him well enough to marry him?

"You don't have to trust me then," you say.

Jeongin puts his suit jacket on with his back facing you.

"But you have to know that the lives of the men working in your compound are threatened. Do it so you don't have to regret not trusting me."

But he seems to be unfazed by your words and takes one last look in the mirror.

"Are you done talking?" He asks.

You sigh because he chooses not to trust you and you see him walk to the door.

"Why would I lie to you? What good it would do to me for lying to you?" You shout at him.

But he opens the door and leaves you alone in his room, in his big, spacious, and lonely room.

The fear keeps you awake the whole night.

The fear of the guilt that you will carry your whole life for knowing something evil is going to be done yet you did nothing to stop it.

You tried and you failed.

But the guilt, you believe will keep haunting you.

The mansion is eerily quiet tonight and it only heightens your fear.

Then you hear footsteps in the hallway and you quickly get up from your bed to see who it is. You see Joon opening the door to the front office and getting inside.

You don't care if you're intruding again but you need to know if something happened, good or bad.

"Joon?" You call from the door.

He stops rummaging through the drawer of Jeongin's desk and sighs when he sees you, "Is that what you were going to tell me earlier?"

Your hands are shaking from anxiety, "did something happen?"

"You're the one who told Jeongin that the Shin brothers are conspiring against him?"

You stifle a nod, afraid that it was all just a trap the Shin brothers set up for you and you fell into it.

"What happened? Tell me!" You insist.

He rushes to you and squeezes your shoulder, "thanks to you that everyone in the compound is safe!"

It's like a giant invisible rock has been lifted off of your chest and you can properly breathe for the first time.

"Oh thank God!" Your knees got weak and you hurriedly sit on one of the empty chairs.

"Jeongin ordered a few men to catch the robbers first before they could execute their plan," Joon furtherly explained.

You let out a long breath and recline on your chair, "then what about Jeongin?"

"He's still taking care of it and I'm here to grab the contracts," he briefly shows you the paper he takes from the drawer.

You sigh again.

"Don't worry, he's okay and I have to get back now," he says, putting the contract paper into a briefcase while checking his phone and furiously typing a message on it at the same time.

"You'll be safe in the mansion," he says before leaving.

It's not like you have another choice but to wait until they get back and you hope when they do, they are back safely.

-

It takes them a day to take care of it.

A few years' worth of business is blown by one stupid plan, you can only guess there is a lot of mess to sort.

But only Joon comes back and you don't know why you feel a little disappointed.

Joon is a very observant person, he can see even the faintest of expression change on your face.

"He has a lot of things to handle at the moment," Joon tells you, "he'll be okay."

You look down at your book, "I'm not asking," you say.

"Yeah, but I just want to let you know," he says, saving you from being embarrassed about asking Jeongin.

On the following day, Jeongin is back but he comes home very late at night and you take a peek through the crack between your bedroom doors of him entering his bedroom.

You get back to your bed and have the most restful sleep you've ever gotten in a while.

In the morning as you're having breakfast in your room, Joon comes with a file and a pen, then puts it next to your tray.

"Sign on the highlighted part," he says then put a pen on 

"What is this?" You ask.

You are about to read the content when Joon snatches

snatching it away, "Just sign it, quick, we don't have much time!"

"I can't just sign without knowing what I'm signed up for!" You say with a glare.

"Trust me! I swear it's not something bad but you'll regret not doing it," he says with a smile.

Joon has that sweet smile of a boy and you can't help but smile back at him.

"Trust me, okay? When did I ever lie to you? Never, right?" He assures you.

Joon has been nothing but kind to you and he's indeed honest, maybe for this once you trust me for everything he had done for you.

"Okay," you cave in and uncap the pen to place your autograph where he instructed you.

"There!" You hand him the pen back.

Joon closes the file with a satisfied grin and holds it under his arm, "Congratulations! You officially become the new owner of this painting!"

He signals someone from outside your bedroom and you crane your neck to see them carrying a big painting, it's still wrapped so you can't see which painting he talked about.

Joon gestures for them to step aside, "you want to do the honor?"

"You want me to unwrap—"

He eagerly nods even before you can finish your sentence. You put your napkins away and walk toward the painting, carefully ripping the thin brown wrapper to slowly reveal the painting.

A part is unveiled and you can tell already what painting it is, you gasp with your hands covering your mouth.

"There is no way!" You say in disbelief.

Joon grins seeing your reaction and lets you continue ripping the whole wrapper.

It's the painting you adore so much, The Flower Field by H.

"Oh, this is so beautiful!"

You still can't wrap your head around the fact that it's so beautiful it evokes so many emotions in you, the flowers that are swaying with the gust of wind and the soft pink sky above, at how you want to lay in the flower field. How peaceful that would be!

"You want it hung in your room?" Joon asks.

"Of course!" You answer rather too passionately.

You stand next to Joon as the men start working to hang the painting in place.

"What did I do to deserve this?"

"It's a gift from Jeongin for you," Joon answers.

You snap your head in his direction, "Isn't this too much for a gift?"

As a curator who watched over this painting for a few months, you know how valuable it is and how much it costs. This is not just a gift for you, it's a promising investment.

"Well, you saved everyone in the compound and he believes that alone costs a lot more than this painting," he says.

He leans in close to your ear, "I'm quoting his words, by the way, not mine."

It takes you aback and you feel so warm inside, "but still, I don't feel good for accepting it," you meekly say.

"You already signed the certificate, you can't do anything about it but I suggest, a little thank you will do."

You chuckle, "thank you!"

"I only did the legal stuff, but you're welcome," he replies.

And before he can add anything else, you say, "I will thank him too."

The two of you continue admiring the painting hung on the wall

of your bedroom, it will take you some time to get used to seeing it before bed and as the first thing you see in the morning.

-

Jeongin hates to be compared with other people, especially his father.

His father was his own person and a role model to him, he aspires to be like him. A man with so much charisma and poise, a man that didn't need to explain who he was because everyone already knew.

Jeongin can't duplicate him and he doesn't intend to.

He wants to lead like him but not to copy every move he made.

He wants to be... himself.

"Am I that easy?" Jeongin asks, gripping his crystal glass so hard.

"What do you mean?" Joon asks back.

"Am I that easy for everyone to dare to try and fool me?"

"Hey, no one saw that coming and it's not your fault that they chose to betray," Joon comforts him.

"If anything, they should not mess with us and you show it to them."

Jeongin finishes his liquor and put the glass down on his desk. He fills it with more liquor and one more ice cube, his eyes notice the transfer of ownership paper on the pile on his desk.

"The painting?"

Joon stops flipping the files he is reading, "it's hung in her bedroom."

Jeongin doesn't need to know the rest, knowing that you receive the gift is enough so he drinks the whiskey he pours.

"You should see her face, she likes it so much!" Joon adds.

Jeongin pours another and brings it with him as he looks out the window.

You're swimming at night, that's a first.

He puts his glass down and walks out of his office, taking slow walks until he arrives at the swimming pool. The water appears blue from the lights and your body glides under, seamlessly like you're one with the water.

He silently watches your body swimming back toward the edge and breaking through the water's surface.

There it is, how Aphrodite was born.

He sees how you are slightly surprised to see him there, standing at the edge of the pool.

You slowly climb the steps to get out of the water and Jeongin immediately reaches for the bathrobe lying on the sunchair, he takes it and offers to put it on you.

He promises not to touch you but allows himself to do a little chivalrous thing like this.

"A hot night?" He asks.

"Yeah," you hesitantly answer.

You turn around and slip your hands into the sleeves, finishing it by tying them together.

"Thank you," you mutter to him without looking him in the eyes.

After a few days of rarely seeing each other and you already change again, a little timid but still the same sweet girl.

"Are you going back to your room?"

"Yes."

"Can I walk you there?"

"Sure."

Just another little chivalry, no physical contact, totally safe and not against the rules.

Jeongin only needs to take his mind off things and just quietly walking the hallway with you does work for him.

"I'm glad that you made the right choice and everyone is safe," you suddenly say, breaking the silence.

"It's all thanks to you," he simply states the fact.

"I was just a mere messenger, you were the one who made the decision," you state another fact back at him.

He feels bad for doubting you back then, if you didn't ask him what good it would do for you to lie to him then he would choose not to believe you.

Your obedience still needs some work but you are an honest person and it pours out of you, that's what makes you so fragile.

And in the world he lives in, honesty comes with a price.

"Thanks for walking me back," you say and snapping him out of deep thought.

Does his mansion shrink by its size or the trip from the l swimming pool to your bedroom has always been this short?

He looks at you and the drops of water rolling down your neck, the wet hair stuck to your face.

He fights the urge to not put them away and shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

"Goodnight!" He mutters.

"Goodnight!" You say back and push open the door.

Jeongin is about to walk to his bedroom when you call his name and come up to him.

"I have something else to say to you," you say and put the hair curtains on your face behind your ear.

"What is it?"

"I want to thank you for the painting," you say with eyes gleaming, something about it that resembles a pool of stars.

"Don't mention it. It's nothing if you compared it with the lives you saved that day," he says, resisting pulling his hands out of his pockets to touch you.

"You know how much I like that painting so I want—"

He cuts you off and he doesn't want to hear you which gives him the impression that the gift is burdening you.

"It's nothing really, you—"

Then you cut him off as well with a kiss, it's a soft peck with your plush lips against his and it makes him feel like he's floating in the air, nothing is going to bring him down.

You let go of the kiss with a shy smile and look down at your feet.

"Thank you and goodnight," you mutter so fast that when his brain finally processed your words, you're already back inside your room.

That isn't a little chivalry yet it's not a violation because he is not the one who initiated it.

But it feels good, isn't it? Breaking the rules.

-

"Where are we going, Joon?"

Joon rushes you to get dressed after breakfast and now, you're on the way to the airfield where a private plane is waiting.

"A business trip," he answers.

"Why am I part of this business trip?" You ask out of curiosity because they've been on so many business trips and why all of a sudden they take you in one.

"He reckons you need some fresh air," he replies.

"Oh?"

So it's Jeongin's idea to take you, not Joon's.

When you meet on the plane and you keep your head down, walk to the seat, pick up your book, and don't try to engage in a conversation with him.

You don't know what led you to kiss him on the lips, you plan on thanking him and that's it. It crossed your mind to kiss him on the cheek at the last minute but by the time of the execution, you didn't know why but your lips found him and kissed.

Now, you have to deal with the consequence of it and it's to always avoid his eyes, trying not to make any eye contact with him.

Joon seems to be oblivious about it though, thank God for that! Jeongin is not a schoolboy who kissed a girl and then told his friend afterward.

He's the leader of the Northside for God's sake, you remind yourself.

He kidnapped you and imprisoned you in his mansion, he'll not let you go unless you agree to marry him. You're supposed to hate him, aren't you?

Once you arrived in your hotel room, Joon takes you to your room and helps you with your bag.

"A hotel suite just for myself?" You ask.

It takes only one look to know that it's bigger than the apartment you once lived in and the ceiling-to-floor window that overlooks the city is so captivating.

Joon takes that as a joke and chuckles, "I'll be back in a few minutes!"

He goes back inside to tell you, "don't try to do anything funny!"

You walk to the liquor cabinet and open it to show mini bottles of all brands of alcohol inside, "you mean I can't get drunk in the middle of the day?"

He chuckles again, "yeah, especially that!"

After Joon leaves, you take time to look around the hotel suite and drag your suitcase to the bedroom, sitting on the bed while touching the fine fabric of the sheet.

You give in to the temptation and lay down on the bed, exhaling a long breath that is long overdue only for the thoughts to go back into your head again.

That Jeongin kidnapped you, took you into his mansion, and locked you up, the only way out is to marry him.

You are supposed to hate him, you said in your head.

You close your eyes and inhale a deep breath, filling your lungs with as much oxygen to let your body relax.

The knocking on the door snaps you awake and you hurriedly open it.

"Are you ready?" Joon asks.

You tip your head to the side, "what?"

"I told you, I'll be back in a few minutes," he says and puts something inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

"But you didn't say we're heading out!"

He grabs your bag from the chair and pulls you along with him, "everything is ready, let's go!"

It feels nice to be out of the mansion for a while and have a little sightseeing as the car ride around the city, but it seems like Joon has one particular place to take you.

Then you see the banner from outside the gallery, it's an exhibition of your favorite painter, the painter H.

"You should have said that you're taking me here, I would have come running to the lobby!" You playfully remark.

Joon lets you walk and look around on your own while he's following you from behind at a safe distance.

Looking at all of the paintings and being surrounded by them transport your back to the days working in the gallery, your routine of making a round before the opening hours with a coffee in your hands and spending time looking at your favorite pieces of art.

You can only dream of going back to those days.

You're so deep in your thought that you didn't notice a man standing next to you.

"It seems like you were deep in it," he says.

You politely smile and glance his way, "Yeah, I was."

He's beautiful, shiny dark hair with a faint mole under his left eye. He's dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans with a flannel shirt hung loosely on his shoulders, he looks a bit older but he wears what a typical art student wore to school.

"What do you think?" He asks.

It's the first time you talk to someone else apart from Jeongin and Joon or anyone working in the mansion. You find it hard to calibrate yourself to society again.

"Mmh?"

"The painting?"

You look back at the painting and try to verbalize your thoughts into words, "I've seen every painting in this exhibition and he used a lot of color blue, but the kind of blue that is so... gloom and cold," you comment.

"Then in each painting, there is an element of red in there, deep red, crimson..." you clasp your hands together in front of you.

"I don't know it's just... that the blue look like the color of a dead body and the red is blood oozing out of a wound," you finish with a small smile.

He nods but not saying anything. Then he lets out a laugh, a laugh that tells so much but nothing at the same time.

You quickly add something to back your previous remark, "It's just so different from the previous collections, they're tender and vivid and lively like forever blossoming flowers."

He turns to you again and praises, "You have good eyes!" praises.

You awkwardly laugh, "I'm a curator."

Then you remember you stopped working one month ago, "I was," you correct.

He looks at you and you feel like you're shrinking in size the longer his gaze lingers on you.

"Do you have a favorite?"

"From his works?"

"Yeah."

"The Flower Field," you answer without a beat.

He nods again and looks straight ahead, "nice."

"I have it hung on my bedroom wall," you brag with a smile and you realize how cheap that is but who else is going to hear you brag about owning his painting? Also, this man knows how to appreciate art and you will never meet him again anyway.

But the answer seems to surprise him that he walks away. Or maybe you shouldn't brag about the painting in the first place.

Joon comes up to you while talking on the phone, "are you done?"

"Yeah, I'm done looking around."

At this point, you stop asking Joon where he'll be taking you next. After a late lunch, he takes you to a boutique and you guess that you'll be dressed for something tonight.

All these times you have someone picked a dress for you and you had no choice but to put it on. Today, you have the perk of choosing the dress and taking the time it needed to try to find the perfect one.

It baffles you how much effort you put into this, but you remind yourself that you're not dressing up for a man, you're dressing up for the enemy.

"I have one more favor!"

"Since when did you ask?" You say with a subtle eye-roll, fiddling with the strap of your purse because you have no idea why you are so nervous.

He scoffs but lets this one slide, "look, it's important that you make the entrance at the right time."

Seeing that Joon's face turns serious, you intently listen to him.

"Now, here's what you have to do," he leans in close and whispers instructions into your ear.

-

Jeongin has lost a few million dollars already.

Poker is never his favorite game to play, but reading their faces is what he's good at.

Except for Mr. Yamada, he's a little tricky. He maintains unwavering eyes and shows the slightest bit of gestures, he hides his cards well. He's an experienced player and has been in the game longer than Jeongin's reigns in the Northside.

That's why he raked over almost a hundred million already.

Jeongin needs a little distraction to penetrate his enemy's mind and try to beat his game.

"Mr. Yang, your bet?" The dealer asks, derailing his train of thought.

"How much?" Jeongin calmly asks.

"1 million, sir!"

Jeongin looks at his cards once again and calculates his odds, he's not going to win with them.

Then the doors to the private casino lounge open and the sounds break the thick, intense silence in the room, all heads turn to see who it is.

Magenta, a color that never comes to his attention until he sees it on you, on a dress that reveals just enough to make everyone coo in awe.

And you make eye contact with him, don't stray for a second until you arrived next to his seat.

Then you lean down and gently, kiss him on the cheek.

It's a part of his plan, a distraction that he needed but he didn't know that he'd be just as distracted.

"I'm sorry for coming late," you softly speak then places a hand on his shoulder.

You look at everyone around the table and then back at him, "Good luck, darling!" You sweetly say.

Jeongin takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles before letting you go.

"Sir?" The dealer asks him again.

"Sorry, yeah, one million, isn't it?" Jeongin intentionally stammering his words.

He throws the chip to the middle of the table and when it's time to reveal the cards, he loses another game.

But this will be the last because now he knows how to outsmart Mr. Yamada's slick poker face.

Sometimes, in gambling, you don't need to play smart or dependent on your luck or pull an intricate trick, sometimes you just have to follow your guts.

That's what Mr. Yamada doesn't have.

He's old, he runs out of a sense of recklessness and that impulsiveness, so he plays safe.

Good thing Jeongin doesn't want to play safe, he pushes all of his chips to the center of the table.

"All in!" He coyly says that those chips don't worth more than ten million dollars.

After a moment, he finally comes to a decision.

"All in!" He calls Jeongin's bluff.

There's a total of roughly fifty million on the table and all the eyes are on him, waiting in anticipation.

"It's time to show your cards, Mr. Yamada!" The dealer points at him to open his cards first.

He slides the cards on the table and flips them open at once, he lets out a snarl for getting a straight.

Everyone gasped in surprise, probably pitying Jeongin who may lose all of his money.

Jeongin's face drops a little but it's time to show his cards, he slides them to the dealer which he takes then turns them over.

"Straight flush!" The dealer announces.

That's when Jeongin finally let out his triumphant smile, victory is sweet but seeing his opponent's losing face is even sweeter.

"Mr. Yang wins!" And the dealer rakes every chip from the table to Jeongin's side.

Jeongin flicks one chip worth a thousand for the dealer as a tip and gets up to grab a drink for himself. Or that was his plan until he sees you standing with Joon from across the room.

His secret weapon, a distraction that got him distracted as well and almost derailed him from his plan.

"Good game!" Joon beams at him with an exciting laugh but he soon understands that he's only getting in the way when he notices that Jeongin's eyes are on you, "I'll get you a drink!" He says, then leaves him with you.

You sip your champagne and smile, "Congratulations!"

"I should thank you for that good luck kiss," he calmly says and grabs a glass of champagne from a server, he gulps it down in one go.

"I'm glad that worked," you say and finish your glass.

Tonight, he meets the feisty you that he rarely meets.

He puts his hand against the table to block you from leaving, "I wonder what kind of luck I would get if I got more than just a kiss on the cheek," he says

You crack a laugh, "it's ironic because you need the luck to get more than that," you say, boldly looking back into his eyes.

But Jeongin's eyes are focusing on those lips, lips that he kissed and vividly remembers how it tastes.

He takes a step forward but maintains a little space in between, "I—"

Someone comes from behind him and taps him on the shoulder. It's Mr. Yamada and he comes to congratulate him.

"Brilliant game, Mr. Yang!"

Jeongin lets you go and takes Mr. Yamada's kind offer for a handshake, "you almost had me there!"

The old man chuckles then shift his to you, "and this lady had me!"

You let out a polite smile, "oh? Me?"

"I don't have to tell you how beautiful you are! Everyone here is captivated by you!" He compliments with a charming smile for a man with salt and pepper hair.

"Oh, thank you!" You respond with another courteous smile.

He offers his hand at you, "would you have a dance with me?"

"Certainly!" Your answer and for a second forget that Jeongin is there with you.

Mr. Yamada sees the glance you throw at him, "Mr. Yang, you don't mind me borrowing your fine lady for a dance, right?"

Jeongin fixes his bowtie and smiles, "Not at all!"

He shouldn't be worried about you having a dance with an old man, he's not that petty. He earned millions of dollars tonight, he should be happy with it.

But seeing you having a great time and waltzing around the place, he agrees that Mr. Yamada is a pleasant man to be with.

He can be one too if he wanted.

"Your drink!" Joon comes with his third glass of drink and he's getting just as agitated with Jeongin throwing icy glares at Mr. Yamada.

"Poor old man just wants a dance," Joon comforts him.

Jeongin scoffs but not answering.

"Go get your turn then if you're so annoyed," Joon says and pushes him toward the dancing floor that Jeongin almost sloshes his drink onto his tuxedo.

Lucky that he knows Joon since they were little or else, he would have his men teach him a lesson. He throws a dagger through his gaze at Joon but he can only laugh at him in return.

And the sound of your laugh is getting louder now, he hates that he isn't the one that can make you laugh that loud.

He stomps his way to Mr. Yamada and taps his shoulder, "I think it's my turn now," he says straightforwardly.

Mr. Yamada laughs at him then at you, "someone is impatient!"

You notice how his jaws clenched and hurriedly let go of Mr. Yamada's holds on you, "I had a great time, thank you!"

"Likewise!" He says to you and kisses your hand before parting.

Yet Jeongin just stands there and looks at you.

"Aren't we going to dance?" You ask.

Jeongin immediately takes your hand and starts dancing with you by placing the other hand on your waist. Takes him a moment to adjust his body for a dance or he is just nervous but doesn't want to show it.

"Does winning millions of dollars not enough for you?" You say with your cheek barely touching his.

"Why should I win you? You're already mine!" He simply states a fact.

"Men and their obsession with possessions!" You say with cute but condescending low chuckles.

Your warm breath brushes his cheek and reminds him of the kiss you placed earlier, as light as a feather yet so addictive.

"Did you forget that your only way out is to legally become mine?"

The smug on your face fades a little, "Thanks, I really do need the reminder!"

Jeongin doesn't mean to turn the mood sour, something in you that makes him get easily provoked. While all he wants is to tell you how breathtakingly beautiful you are and how much he wants to touch you.

But in order to do that, he has to earn your permission first.

"You're—"

"It's getting boring," you abruptly stop dancing and let go of him altogether, "I want to go home!"

Jeongin yet again rubs you the wrong way.

He hasn't yet to find any ways to handle you with care when you're like this. You walk so fast in front of him, and can't wait to get in the car and go home.

"You did it again!" Joon grumbles at him while also walking fast to catch up with his pace.

Jeongin can't defend himself, because he did blow his chance.

"Slow down! The cars are not here yet!" Joon shouts at you, giving up chasing after you, and goes to the valet service.

He knows he shouldn't go near you, it will only piss you off more but seeing you rubbing your hands up and down your arms, he comes to offer his suit jacket.

Something stops him on his track.

An inkling, a gut feeling.

Maybe it's an instinct or maybe he's been in the same situation one too many times.

He can feel that something is not right, he is almost certain that something bad is going to happen soon. He looks around the place and scans through a group of people crowding the entrance of the casino.

There, he sees it, a man pulling out a gun from the inside of his jacket.

Without thinking, he dashes toward you and throws himself at you, shielding you from whatever comes your way.

Then...

BANG!

There are screams and shouts, people scramble to safety.

But all he sees is you, the terror in your eyes with your hands clutching onto the front of his shirt.

He wraps his body around you and says, "I'm right here, you're—"

But before he can finish his words of comfort, there comes another one.

BANG!

-

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[orionsgirdle]

I'm gonna be petty for one second here and say that I always thought Percy should have stayed dead after the fight with Ripley. But I have to concede that his ressurection ultimately told a hopeful story of found family and redemption.

And if Percy gets to have that, gets to have his happy ending, then so should Laudna. Even more so because Percy had reached the end of his quest and achieved his goal. So death would have been a narratively satisfying penance for all the terrible things he did to get revenge (like strike a deal with demon). But because he was brought back by Vex, because he was given a second chance at having a family with Vox Machina, Matt's world became a much kinder and gentler world.

And I am more interested in that gentler form of story telling, where characters have narratively satisfying ends. Because unlike Percy who had agency in his own story, who forged his path toward his death, Laudna's story is all about having that agency taken away.

[Side note: I have more rambling, less clear thoughts about Pate de Rolo as a physical manifestation of the price that Laudna paid in Percy's story. The way he hangs from strings like she hung from the Sun Tree, the way she fears that she's a puppet with her strings held by Delilah Briarwood.]

Laudna was just begining to understand her own personhood. She was just begining to have agency in her own narrative that Percy was so freely given from the start of c1. Her (second) death yet again as a message/motivator for another character is just plain cruel. [Even Vax got to stick around long enough to have closure.] The grief that other characters might feel provides little meaning to a character's own story. This is why fridging characters as a plot device doesn't work. And yes yes it's not technically fridging because it's all dice rolls and available spell slots, but ultimately at the end of c3 what would Laudna's character arc amount to if it ends here?

tl; dr OF COURSE I support whatever Marisha decides to do, and this is their game and they should what they want, etc. etc. But like I really hope Laudna NoLastName (yet) comes back.

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

I want to clarify something re: my issues with the James Tartt storyline.

I've been seeing a lot of posts and comments talking about how everyone deserves a shot at redemption and that that should not mean "everyone but James and Rupert" - and I want to say I think those posts are absolutely correct. As a lifelong villain fan I actually have massive, massive issues with the concept of any fictional character being considered by fandom to be truly "irredeemable" (especially since that line seems to be different for every single person), and I often hate the ideas fandoms tend to pass around about what fictional characters do or do not "deserve," so I want to make it clear that my issues with James' implied redemption have absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I think he deserves it. I strongly believe addiction is a disease and that everyone - even abusive, terrible people - should get the chance to change. This is especially true of fictional characters, since exploring concepts of second chances and redemptions within a story doesn't pose any risks to real-life people.

That said, these are the reasons why I think this whole thing was absolutely terrible from a storytelling perspective.

There are stories that are served well by canon leaving some things offscreen and letting the viewer fill in the blanks, but I don't think that's remotely the case here. To do this story justice, they needed to give it time. They needed to give it at least a modicum of buildup. They needed to show us this journey, rather than just telling us about it in a brief, sunlight-doused clip and saying "be happy about this, damn it!" Seeing them happy and smiling together is an enormous leap that should've taken much longer to get to than the show implies, and as a result it feels extremely jarring. Jamie reconnecting with his dad is an incredibly messy and complex storyline that needed to develop over time, and it was a huge mistake to just gloss over it like the writers did.

Show me James hitting rock bottom and how he ended up in rehab. Show me Jamie's conflicted feelings about reconnecting with him. Show me Jamie coming to an understanding that not reconnecting with his dad is also a perfectly valid option, and that letting go of his fear of and anger at James is not dependent on Jamie giving James any more of his time or energy. Show me Jamie being fully, actively aware that no matter what he chooses, letting James back into his life is not necessary for Jamie to move forward and grow as a person. Show me Jamie putting up boundaries to protect himself throughout this process - physically and emotionally. Show me James getting to know his son as an actual person and not just an object to use for his own selfish ends. Show me the emotional journey of this father, ravaged by addiction and his own unprocessed trauma, learning how to love and take a genuine interest in his son for perhaps the first time ever. Show me Jamie talking to his friends about this and getting their opinions and support. Show me Jamie having sessions with Dr. Sharon so I know he isn't undertaking this journey without therapeutic guidance.

You could make the argument that all of the above is implied, and you'd probably be right. But at the end of the day, I maintain that this father and son journey needed to be given actual screentime - especially because James' abuse of Jamie was given so much screentime, not to mention the additional bomb that was dropped on us in Sunflowers about what James did to Jamie when he was fourteen (and then was never brought up again, leaving me to assume Jamie still has yet to even realize that that was an instance of sexual assault). James verbally, emotionally, and physically abused Jamie for years, and the story did not shy away from showing us the effects of that. The story of Jamie reconnecting with this man should have been a half-season arc at minimum, and they had no business showing us that without also showing us Jamie processing the trauma they told us about in Sunflowers.

And it's frustrating because the more I think about it, the more I love the idea of a story centered around a son and his abusive father reconnecting and the messiness of that father trying to become a better person and heal from addiction and the complexity of that son trying to reconcile his love for his dad with his need to fully recognize and process what was done to him. I would love an exploration of James' past - maybe his dad took him to a red light district when he was 14, too. Maybe that was all he knew, and he certainly hasn't processed his own trauma, so of course he did the same thing to his own son. Maybe the cycle of abuse goes back generations and generations, and James and Jamie BOTH get to break it, not just Jamie (although that could only be true for James in a fairly limited sense, considering the permanent damage he did to Jamie cannot be undone). Anyway, my point is that it all has the potential to be so, so compelling - but the way they executed it just felt so oversimplified and rushed and cheap, and also sent some really problematic messages.

Tl;dr: I do genuinely think that, given proper time to develop it, there could've been a way to do this story well. This was not it.

[alexjcrowley]

I was kind of worried for the episode when I saw Reva going after Luke. The point is, we knew Luke wouldn't have been harmed. We knew Owen and Beru wouldn't have been seriously harmed. What's the point. I mean, it made sense in the plot, but I thought it was going to be kind of boring to see, especially because her scenes were alternated with that epic battle between Vader and Kenobi. Reva's part of the episode just felt like low tension. I already did notice the parallels with Anakin, how she looked in that cape, but it still felt to me like "what's the point of this? Why am I supposed to feel tension?"

And then the alternating scenes with Anakin killing the younglings, and seeing her instead of Luke, and Reva bringing Luke back and Obi Wan giving her the speech he hoped he could have given Anakin, he hoped he could have said "it's okay, my young padawan, you still haven't fallen for the dark side, there's still light in you, compassion, kindness", he never could save Anakin but now he gets to to see Reva redeem herself, not anyone who falls for the dark side is lost forever (how this perfectly matches Vader's ending in Return of the Jedi). Not all is lost, even in the heart of those who seek revenge, there's still place for redemption.

And once again, Luke seems to be the mean for that redemption. He fought and killed and he was forged by the war, but still he makes up for the innocent Reva nor Anakin can get themselves to kill.

Reva is a mirror, is the the proof that there's still a chance for Anakin to save himself, that not all those who falls are doomed, she marks a line between he and Anakin, he could choose to save himself but he didn't, she did, in a world made of prophecies and mystical forces, choices still matters, the real doom is to believe there is nothing left to do, that destiny is set in stone.

Obi Wan could have said it was too late for him to help anybody, that he already failed the one who trusted him once, that there was nothing good to ever come out of him again.

Luke could have accepted that the only way to end a war is a fight until one drops dead.

Tala could have said to herself she already did all the things she should have been ashamed of, that she was not worthy to help those she once mercilessly slaughtered.

This is incoclusive and chaotic but I feel like I could go into so many directions, so many details.

I can't stop thinking "like poetry, it rhymes" for everything. Everything in this story. It's like music. I see faces over faces, I se the same moments, over and over, with different endings, different times, the same feelings, tha same sadness, obsessions, hope, fear, rage. I'm 20 but within Star Wars I have lived entire decades, I have seen history repeat himself, I have seen so many stories and so many people, I feel like an old god observing a distant universe. It rhymes, everything, in the big scale of things, there's a rhythm, I can feel it.

[towerbetweenworlds]

Before Sannan had a route, my heart went to Hijikata. I still think the latter has the most interesting and complete of routes (not only is he the "canonical" in anime, he outlives many of the other Shinsengumi in history, being alive all the way up to the end of the Boshin War.)

Conversely, Sannan, or Yamagami Keisuke, is the first of the Shinsengumi core members to die in history. He's also considered to be among the most principled of the lot, if a little uptight compared to the rural stock most of the other members come from.

(As an aside: I have an interest in feudal Japanese history that goes beyond my love for Hakuouki, my primary interest being in the Sengoku or Warring States period. But I do credit the otome game for getting me truly interested in the period between the Black Ships / Commodore Perry's arrival and the start of the Meiji Restoration. So my fansploding over Sannan will definitely be interspersed with thoughts of the historic events, people, and places Hakuoki is based on.)

My knowledge of the historical Sannan is why I always side-eyed at the idea that he's just a purely evil and unlikable character in the game. I know it can depend a LOT on the route you play, but...

[I guess it is spoiler time now, specifically for Sannan and Heisuke routes]

...pretty much every character in the game has at least *some* basis in known history, albeit highly romanticized (duh). So it makes way more sense to me for Sannan's cold, calculating, and ruthless attitude to be only one part of his truth, and for his deep love and loyalty to the Shinsengumi (and Chizuru!!) to feature strongly in his motivations under the surface.

I also love that while he's terribly antagonistic in Heisuke's route, he actually subverts this in his own route by *pretending* to kill him to sell his strategy to get closer to Yukimura Kodo.

I won't entirely absolve Sannan because he does do some abjectly awful things, even in his route. Honestly, that's true of the historical Shinsengumi as a whole, which is why their reputation can range from the villainous (see: Rurouni Kenshin, minus Harada of course--he's a good boy in all media afaik) to the heroic but ultimately tragic (see: the NHK Shinsengumi! taiga drama, which generally paints them in a positive light, but does not shy from portraying when their members make questionable decisions.) I get why he thought he had to keep Chizuru in the dark about his plans, but I do think he could have trusted her more to hold up her end of things if they worked together.

Honestly, I think Sannan's depression (as someone quite familiar with that particular psychological condition, I can say with confidence he definitely suffered it, especially when triggered by feeling worthless) makes it hard for him to accept that someone could love him enough to follow him boldly into his schemes while trusting he will not fall completely. The game makes it clear that Chizuru's love is a deciding factor when it comes to him taking a less heinous path toward finding a true purpose in life. She ensures his despair and desperation do not swallow him whole, both due to the chance for redemption she represents for him, and because her blood makes it possible for him to do more for longer without losing his sanity to the Ochimizu.

On the other hand, the dark, twisted side of him that leads him to decide that forcing a kiss on Sen to turn her into a demon rasetsu is a good idea (for example) is still part of who he is. That is something much harder to accept. He can be deliberately cruel, if only to keep people at arms length so he can keep wallowing in his pain, and he can be terrible at considering the human factor in the schemes within schemes he plots. At his worst, he discards emotions and morality as a hindrance to his goals, and that's just not a good way to handle things. He should not be given a free pass to be abusive, no matter if it is due to his fragile self-esteem, his fear of letting people too close, or his tendency to hyperfocus on the endgame.

I think all of us have the potential to rise or fall depending on our circumstances--our genetics, where we were born, how our parents/guardians raised us, important people in our lives, life-altering events that befall us. As a multiply marginalized person, I drew the short straw in many ways, but I am extremely fortunate to have a supportive spouse who knows me like no one else, whom I can trust with my life. Genuine love from a worthy life partner can truly be transformative if you are fortunate to find it. It's not the only way to reach a state of greater happiness and stability, but it is *A* way, and I choose to believe it works wonderfully for Sannan and Chizuru.

Maybe it's cliche to say he just needs love. Haha. But he definitely needs help avoiding the pitfall of devaluing himself and others so much that the kinder, gentler parts of his nature are smothered.

[blackjackkent]

I like to think that Hector and co. put on a rather nice dinner for Elminster. They've certainly collected enough camp supplies at this point to be able to do so, and it's nice to have a guest who is not a skeleton or Volo.

Elminster seems to have enjoyed himself as well.

"Mmm, yes, what a delightful wedge of Old Elturian that was. Doesn't do to parley on an empty stomach, you know. Makes one's words frivolous when they should be grave." He grins brightly. "Plenty to digest, after all. A good deal to stew over, if you will. Words ladled with import should be savored so as to better absorb their meaning, wouldn't you agree?"

"Elminster!"

"Right. Ahem. You see..."

He hesitates, fidgets a little with the arm of his robes. In contrast to the flow of words from a moment ago, he is now visibly reticent. "I, er...ahem. That is to say..."

He breathes in slowly, exhales heavily, and then looks up to meet Gale's eyes. "Gale, m'boy, I've come to address a most pressing matter. I'll speak as plainly as I can, forswearing the accustomed frills that decorate my speech. I'm here on behalf of Mystra. The message and the charge I bring you are hers."

"It must be a great honor to be so entrusted by your god," Hector says, visibly impressed. There are tales, of course, of Selune speaking to the most esteemed of her followers, but it is certainly nothing any of the monks at the monastery could have even hoped for.

Gale grunts sardonically. "I could debate you on that."

"You know where you went wrong, Gale," Elminster says gravely. "We needn't dwell on that here and now. But even so, you're to be given a chance of redemption."

That catches Gale's attention; his head snaps up and his eyes focus in on Elminster keenly. "Mystra would consider...forgiveness?" he asks, his tone suddenly soft, hesitant.

Elminster sighs ruefully. "She would consider...what she considers to be forgiveness," he says gently. His eyes flick to Hector, then back to Gale. "Mystra is aware of the misadventures that have befallen you both. She knows of your strife with the Absolute, that most insidious of evils."

Hector's eyes widen slightly. In a way, it's no surprise that Mystra has been following their struggles, given her history with Gale, but on the other hand...if the gods know about the Absolute, about the threat it poses...why have they not intervened? But the training drilled into him, not to question the gods, is still too strong for those words to quite emerge. "If the goddess herself is aware, I wouldn't say no to some divine intervention," he says instead, raising an eyebrow at Elminster.

"The very purpose of my presence," Elminster says, "in a roundabout sort of way." His expression is very serious now, no hint of the earlier jests. "You must know that the Absolute is more dangerous than you can possibly conceive. It threatens all who live - even those who are undying. It threatens the gods, the Weave, the very fabric of the universe itself."

Hector swallows nervously. In truth - though he fears the Absolute deeply, he had assumed it was a mortal power with mortal weaknesses. What Elminster describes is something else altogether, something even beyond the eldritch terror of the mind flayers and the Astral Plane.

"That is why I have come here to charge you, Gale," the old wizard continues soberly, "with its destruction. It is Mystra's belief that only you can."

"Gale alone?" Hector asks, startled. Certainly their whole party seems caught up in this war and is doing their best to fight it, but why would Gale specifically--

Oh.

"The orb," Gale says, and though he has paled slightly, his voice is steady.

Elminster nods solemnly. "Precisely. Mystra has granted me the power to stop the clock, as it were, on the orb's rush to overpower you. Instead, you will be able to unleash its lethal combustion at will. You must find the Heart of the Absolute, whatever that may be, and use yourself as the catalyst that will burn it from this world."

Hector's jaw has dropped, his hands lifting in a mute objection. In the back of his mind, he hears the dream guardian's soft, pensive voice. "Interesting," she murmurs. "This could be help or hindrance - we shall have to see."

Hector ignores her, shakes away the distraction, and snaps out, "That's monstrous! You're tasking him to kill himself!" He can't keep himself from objecting, goddess's will though this might be. Gale is his friend, one of his closest in this mad mess of a situation. He can't just let him be forced into this...

Gale reaches out, puts a hand gently on Hector's arm, shakes his head. "He is not. But it seems that Mystra is," he says softly.

"It brings me no pleasure saying this, my friend," Elminster says wearily. "But such is Mystra's will. Yours must be the sacrifice that will undo the Absolute. And for your sacrifice, you will be redeemed. Such is Mystra's promise." He shakes his head, lifts one hand in the air. "With that, I've said my sorry piece, and need only bestow unto thee the charm I was bid."

He traces a few symbols in the air, murmuring a soft chant along with them. A pale purple light passes from his fingertips into Gale's chest.

Hector watches in silence, his normally steady bearing fidgety and uncertain. This can't be right. Surely there is some other way to take on the Absolute and destroy it. Surely there is another way for Gale to be redeemed besides destroying himself.

Elminster's arm falls back to his side and his eyes clear. "It is done. Both charge and charm have been committed into your care." He pauses, then looks towards Hector, and there is a muted appeal in his aged gaze. "To you, I commit into care Gale himself. I count on you to shepherd him well on this strangest of journeys."

"There's still a long road ahead," Hector says firmly. "We'll find another way."

"Or some other fortune altogether," Gale mutters, somewhat bitterly.

Elminster smiles enigmatically. "Like moons make swell and wane the nescient seas, so too the sky-strewn gods ordain the tidal fates of mortal days. And yet - a notion born in lonely hours - come ebb, come flow, come all that is beyond the breadth of our dominion: be a moon unto yourself. Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will. Farewell, my friend."

And he is gone, vanishing in a shivering burst of light and leaving the two men grim and fearful behind him.

[heinrix]

OZADIUS DEVRIES - levistus tiefling ◦ conquest paladin ◦ neutral good (née evil)

mercury, silver and iridescent, flooded into oz's nose and mouth, even the corners of his eyes as the fiery pit that was avernus roared before him; this was it, his friend would consume him as oozes do, especially him, a contract of an ambitious sloth demon given a physical body. he had accepted this particularly brutal fate as soon as monacco agreed to teleport them to the hells, oz saving his companions but sacrificing himself because at least the soldiers would do quick work of his monstrous friend if he were to perish.

but something, whether it be the whims of the gods or some other external force, oz did not die but was shunted aboard a ship and into a viscous, mucus covered pod. confusion, fear, and guilt filled him; he was supposed to die, he should not be alive. oz had been given far too many chances at life, merc should have been the end.

ozadius devries hails from the the amber peninsula of the exhalian empire in a large port city, vetalonia. he is not faerûnian, originally from a different universe entirely, only by the hells being the overlap between this multiverse and a chance encounter with a nautaloid did oz end up in faerûn.

his life has been an eventful one: becoming a warlock out of sheer will to bring his best friend/unrequited love back to life, becoming wanted for treason by the empire for killing local authorities, experiencing death for the first time, accepting a deal with a stygian demon (monacco) to become his champion in order to not die, fighting an archdevil and subsequently dying only to be brought back to life once more, and finding out he is in fact the walking contract of his oath to monacco, his soul residing in hell and not his body. the least you could say about oz is that he's either the unluckiest bastard to ever live or the exact opposite.

with yet another chance at life, oz wants nothing but to make up for his past wrongdoings; being shunted into a completely different universe where no one knows him or what he's done sounds exactly like the type of redemption and catharsis he needs.

[ask-healthy-light]

Nox walked up to Star and offered her a hug, she then said.

"You need not apologize dear, after all this was my plan, if any blame should be placed, it should be on me."

Nox then looked both at and beyond Star as if looking at something unseen.

"Besides, I believe every creature should be given a chance at redemption, even you and Sombra.

"I try to help out my friends in any way I can, and I'd like to count you among them!"

The words of the Fallen King echoed within Star's mind, yet these no longer felt like a poison upon their mind, and as a small smile grew upon their face, they breathed an immense sigh of relief, now knowing both Sombra and they had taken the first step towards mutual acceptance; and when Star once again opened their eyes, their face was stained with the last tears they would shed of such origin.

When they saw the Kirin and the Dragon-Pony in the distance, taking turns casting all the fragments of crystal into the lightless dungeon, Star shook their head and turned aside, where they looked at Amethyst, who was still looking at Light and Nox; but when Star gently grabbed her hoof and quietly greeted her, a sweet smile grew upon her face as she gently pulled her Old Friend into her embrace.

Though the Old Librarian tried to hold in her emotions, she could not help but shed countless tears of joy when she once again saw the gentle and familiar expression of Star, after so many aeons; and she cared not how loudly she wept, not even as Starswirl rose to his hooves to walk towards Nox and Light, before he came back with the Dragon-Pony by his side, while Light sat down where they stood.

But after Nox walked up to Star, and gracefully bowed to the Unicorn, their smile slowly dropped as they looked down at the ground in shame, apologising for the trouble they had caused throughout the years; for even now, though they knew not how they managed it, the effects of their curse permeated the area via the crystals, and they saw how much effort and energy it took them to cast these away.

Before they could continue, Nox, with a smile upon her face, knelt down to meet Star at eye height, and sweetly offered them a hug, which they carefully accepted, still slightly fearful of what could happen; but in their embrace, Nox told them that they need not apologise, for the plan to use these crystals was hers, and if anything, she should apologise to everybody, since the blame was her own.

A small smile slowly grew upon Star's face once again, before Nox helped them and Amethyst to their hooves, where she looked at Star with a strange gaze that they both did and did not feel; for Nox's ability to see into both Realms at once meant she saw more than just their fair form, as the Shadow of Sombra hovered around them, but no longer foul, nor did it encompass nor darken their fair form.

The smile on Nox's face brightened as she nodded to Star and the Unseen Shadow in the Spirit Realm, whereafter she continued, and promised Star she believed everybody deserved a chance at redemption, even Sombra and themselves; for it mattered not to her what happened in the past, as she could tell how deeply they regretted their actions, and how dearly they wished to do and be better henceforth.

At that moment, both Nox and Starswirl noticed the Shadow of Sombra around Star rapidly move around from side to side, and they wondered what was causing this, before it calmed down when they heard a whisper; and the others appeared to freeze, when Starswirl and Nox noticed the pale and featureless face of Grim emerge from a flash of light, Unseen and faint, slowly hovering to the Crystal Royals.

Though he did not utter a word, the two understood they not only had to watch out but also look out for Lady Cadance and Lord Shining, as they needed to ask for help from friends both Old and New, as he had advised; but since Grim had not deemed it necessary to warn them about the Shadow of Sombra, they would not worry, and after they nodded to Grim, he vanished as quickly as he appeared to them.

The flow of time started again, and Nox continued where she left off with Star, and she gently took their hooves in her paws, and reassured them that she always tried to help out her friends wherever and whenever she could, and that she would like to count Star as a friend; even though Star started to cry, making Nox worry, she knew that their tears were not an evil when they deeply embraced her.

But during their embrace, Light weakly called out to the others, and said they were nearly done…

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

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Featuring: Nox Lunarwing from @nox-lunarwing