#her real smile being imperfect is so very important to me!!!

[ow1et]

it is so exceedingly rare to get an honest smile out of athene. at least in regard to typical, everyday interactions with people she isn't very close with. granted, she's a ridiculously good actress and the average person she interacts with would never realize that she isn't being genuine. her fake smiles are tight, small, polite, and very controlled (like most of her reactions are). but it comes across as her just being the prim and proper socialite that she's perceived as. most of gotham's higher class smile like that, so why wouldn't she? it's the same way with her laughs being short, intentionally cute, giggly, and more exhaled air than sound.

thinking about the absolute shock it probably is when someone sees her really smile because it's a bit lopsided (the right corner of her mouth always raises higher than the left) and she has dimples! she usually bites her bottom lip trying to hold it in. it's very sunlight peeking through the clouds kind of energy. also, if you make her laugh hard enough she will snort.

[rwbwby]

there’s really nothing like having an “Aha!” moment about your past that connects your current issues with boundary-setting to the way your parents raised you. personal shit under the cut or whatever

so like, i’m autistic. (wow. i’m shocked.) my parents, when they were raising me, were a) my dad, a bipolar and likely autistic conservative for whom politics were Fun Debate Time and had no bearing on real people’s human rights, and b) my mom, some flavor of undiagnosed neurodivergent, who was raised to be a doormat to basically every man in her life because That’s Just What Women Do. my mom grew up in the time before women were allowed to open their own bank accounts. (her mom taught her how to survive, which involved picking her battles very, very, very carefully.) my dad was one of four boys in a house where physical and verbal abuse was Just How You Raise Proper Children.

my parents were inconsistent in teaching me what it meant to enforce boundaries and assert needs. basically, my needs had to be urgent and important enough to justify breaking social codes. telling my friends that, no, i don’t want to ride down the street in the back of the pickup truck? totally okay, and highly encouraged. but god forbid i have a sour face when we’re sitting in a loud, crowded restaurant that i got dragged to because We’re Spending Time With Family Friends and i’m being completely overwhelmed. my mom would tell me to “Smile!” in a chipper voice, like a photographer taking a kid’s school picture. i wasn’t allowed to be a human in public, or with family, or sometimes even in private, because i was breaking the unwritten social rule that apparently dictates you have to sit in your discomfort and misery for the sake of being “polite” or whatever.

my dad wouldn’t respect a closed door to my room. privacy was something i was afforded when i got a phone—thank the gods for that, at least—but physical privacy wasn’t as important, apparently. i could be crying, gripping the skin on my thighs with the force of a crocodile’s jaws, silently begging him to stop yelling at me, and he wouldn’t stop. he taught me that asserting my boundaries and needs was selfish. i didn’t want to be selfish. i became a doormat, and he wondered why. it’s like he broke every vertebra in my body and then demanded to know why i don’t have a spine.

i still struggle with the scars they left on me. they were human: imperfect, complicated, neither good nor evil on the whole. but i wasn’t allowed to be imperfect. i wasn’t allowed to be complicated. i wasn’t allowed to be human.

[space-city-traffic]

yet again im back on my bullshit so... (gazes with mixed feelings at the TV show Firefly) i could fix him.

my extremely long thoughts about my Own Personal Good Version of Firefly (with plenty of spoilers for the show and the movie) under the cut:

things that are getting axed first thing no question:

out with the whole “let’s add in a thin veneer of Chinese cultural aesthetics out of context for ~flavor~” deal. just no.

instead, let’s hire some actors from a bunch of different cultures and work with them to figure out how their characters would bring those cultures into space with them!! and also hopefully bring some experiences with immigration/alienation/travel into it, since the Whole Core of Firefly is about how humanity always brings our doomed and silly and stubborn and unique warmth with us even into the cold void where nothing is familiar or homey in the slightest.

let’s respect our sex worker character shall we?

i do appreciate that Inara’s work as a companion is described as legitimate and well respected in the show. however please stop having your captain and hero call her a wh*re every five seconds against her clearly expressed wishes and portraying this as just a totally acceptable thing

let’s be more respectful of our characters of color and also have some more diversity, shall we?

others have put it better than me but yeah, the way Zoe and Book are treated is very uncomfy, and the rest of the show is depressingly monochromatic. come on let’s do better.

stop the weird confederacy hat tips

again others have pointed these out with much more thoroughness than I could, but the names of some characters and locations, as well as some of the language used to describe the browncoats, has uncomfortably confederate vibes. instead i propose we very Clearly tip our hats to the Alliance equaling space capitalism instead! you can’t go wrong with space capitalism as a villain.

don’t! make! the! psychotic! character! violent!

listen i love River Tam with my whole heart. but you should absolutely not portray your only character with psychosis as violent because of that psychosis!!!!!!! and yeah, a huge part of her character is that her brain got fucked up by the alliance and so she hallucinates and is also a super ninja. but like. she doesn’t need to be a super ninja for her character to work, okay? the crew does not need to be scared of her for her character to work, okay??? more on this later bc it would take a lot of care and nuance to make her character work but i really think it can be done

things we are absolutely keeping:

found family tropes my fucking beloved

this should be self evident. this is why the show is as appealing as it is despite its flaws, at least in my eyes.

malcolm reynolds, the knight in dusty armor

there’s something so appealing to me about what Mal stands for. because at his core is this ridiculous, silly, stubborn, doomed devotion to what he thinks is important and right, a romantic idealism thinly covered by cynical cowboy platitudes that he thinks make his bleeding heart totally invisible. and he is so obvious and entirely incorrect. bless. this is a man who will do anything for his family, who charges into swordfights to defend his friend from a man who wants to turn her into an object despite having no clue how to hold a sword. at his worst, he starts brawls in bars just for the martyr’s thrill of being persecuted for supporting the right; at his best, he inspires downright religious belief from his crew because he represents a romantic and chivalrous and doomed dedication to the right thing over any practical concerns. and then he throws a “selfish” quip over it with 100% confidence that everyone fell for his clever distraction and believes him to be a dirtbag. he’s oblivious and ridiculous and god he makes me want to be a better person because he’s just so goddamned sincere. stupid, but sincere. 10/10 himbo. <3

Mal and Inara ultraslowburn friends to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to friends to...

there’s nothing i love more than a ship that’s just two people who know each other way too well, and they’re each the only one who knows the other well enough to call them out on their bullshit. the way Mal and Inara interact in the show sometimes makes me uncomfy but like. the core of their relationship has to stay.

space western aesthetic

i need the cows on a spaceship scene to stay like i need air okay

that sweet sweet religious shit

mal, who lost his faith in gd and a whole lot else during the war. who lost his faith in himself, and now feels he has to hide the part of him that still wants to be good, because he knows he can’t be anymore, and he feels like it’s embarrassing for a guy like him to want something so unattainable. who takes a preacher on board, and the preacher has lost something, too. the preacher has his own past, and his own questions. but not questions like the observant neurodivergent girl, the one who wants to interact with and understand this thing that’s so important to him, but it just doesn’t click with how her brain works and she feels like something needs to be fixed, either the Bible or herself. and Mal takes care of them all, and slowly, he begins to find gd again, not in a prayer but in humanity. humanity doesn’t need to be fixed, like the alliance thinks. the shining imperfect strawberry sweetness of it in his family’s smiles is something to be worshiped and served and devoted to. and he finds he has something to believe in again. (and his crew find that he’s given them someone to believe in, too. and maybe suddenly he’s a saint.)

and finally, my brilliant ideas as to what i would like to add:

TRANS WOMAN KAYLEE RIGHTS

listen her femininity is so important to me okay? it’s so thrilled about everything that’s pretty, from dresses to the spaceship’s electric innards, and it’s so non-traditional and grease stained until it’s not and it’s pink and ruffly and twirly, and she never sees any of it as a contradiction, because none of it contradicts, it’s all just her! her gender is warmth and love and prettiness, feeling pretty and appreciating the pretty and making her friends’ days pretty too.

i want us to find out she’s trans in that episode with the ball, and i want us to find out alongside Mal who just never asked or never realized. Kaylee gasps and squeals at the dress in the shop window and Mal makes an off handed, ill considered comment, and then... someone yanks him aside and hisses a few very significant words in his ear. and suddenly he remembers what the blue white and pink she painted all over the engine room means, and he knows he has something to make right. so he buys her that dress himself and lets her know just how pretty she looks, and when he walks into that ball with her displayed on his arm like something precious, he looks the proudest out of any man there. and she notices. for a few seconds, of course, until there’s chocolate, and ‘nara, and a chandelier—and some horrible girls, but she’s used to that, until—suddenly, she finds her people. a group of old men who light up when she jokes about compression coils and whack presumptuous boys who ask her to dance. they adopt her as a treasured granddaughter, and Mal is beaming at her like a proud dad, and she finds that one of her new elderly friends gazes a little too long at her bracelet, and so she gives it to xem and teaches xem a few new words, and... it’s a good day, huh? it’s a really good day. (of course, then the captain has to go and punch somebody in the face, but it was a real nice party up until then.)

also she and Simon are both transhet t4t im correct and you know it

time for a better River Tam

the first thing we’ve established is that this version of her is not unpredictably violent and the crew is not scared of her!!!! it makes no sense to take a kid who’s primarily brilliant, experiment on her brain, give her telepathic powers....... and tack on the fact that she also has super strength and speed and dexterity and what not, AND say that they programmed her to be super violent. no! no. not only is that extremely harmful rep, that’s also just stupid.

instead!! my version of River is in fact not terrifying to the crew, but is actually the one they feel safest around. River has always been totally blunt, she was one of those kids you could tell realllllly early was autistic, and she doesn’t like being disengenous at all. so you can always trust her to tell the truth and not play weird passive aggressive games or have any hidden agenda, which makes her just a really chill person to be around. also, one of her longtime special interests is music and dance, so whether or not she’s nonverbal on a given day, there will always be some sort of beautiful sound when she’s around. she does have the singing voice of a dying crow unfortunately but that’s ok bc Simon’s is even worse and they’re both incredibly competitive so you’ll at least get free entertainment out of the affair.

my version of River does have psychosis and hallucinations because of the trauma of the experiments, and they are really troubling to her. she and Simon work together to find ways to cope and meds that help, and it’s a process, but there are some things that help.

the only thing she gained from the academy was the ability to hear people’s thoughts and sense the future a little bit. and yeah, that led to her picking up a few spooky secrets at the beginning, which, yikes. and for a while, it was hard to figure out which voices were real and which were hallucinations. but around her friends, she always feels safe to ask “did you just think about triple cheese burritos or was that just a me thing?”, and they’ll always tell her the truth no matter how embarrassing their thoughts are, bc it’s important to all of them to respect her and help her sort accurately through what’s reality and what’s not. and bit by bit, she gets better and better at figuring out what kinds of things tend to be telepathy and what kinds of things tend to be psychosis, and that each one feels a little different. and because of the trust and respect and support of her found family she’s able to do that in a safe environment!!!

trans man Simon rights

listen i wanted to keep him as just a side note on Kaylee’s list but he is my son and he’s important to my heart so here goes

out on the outer rim where Kaylee’s from, gender ain’t much of a big deal, there’s an individualistic quality to life out there, and so if the trail you blaze is the trail of a woman or a man or neither or both, that’s respected even in the rare cases where it’s not outright encouraged. but in the inner planets, where competition and connections and public faces and family names are everything, you have to be what’s expected of you to survive. you can’t change your brand, you can’t be anything other than what your family planned for you since before you were born, it’s incredibly hard to survive in such a hyper competitive environment, and so your very identity becomes just a tool in how to market yourself for better success.

needless to say Simon (just as autistic as his little sister and also very trans) fuckin hated it there. but he was very good at it. correction: he was very good at his very specific field of STEM, good enough to where people stopped talking about how cute he looked in bows and started talking about how impressive his work was from a very young age. and his work had no gender. he could be whatever he wanted to in equations. so that was where he could express himself, and gd, he got so much praise for it, he never wanted to stop.

not until he discovered that his sister needed him, and ran away, and needed a disguise, and realized... suddenly, every stifling rule and prying eye was a million miles away. he was freefloating, freefalling, with none of the charted paths he’d been following all his life... so you know what? fuck it. he’s always enjoyed the name Simon. and since it’s not on any legal records, it’ll make him just that much more untraceable.

and on Serenity, starting over with new people who never knew him before his transition feels like an unbelievable blessing that just dropped right into his lap. he has to keep up the secrecy, he has to make sure they never find out who he used to be, because gd, it’s so nice when they look at him and say his name right, and he doesn’t know if he can handle losing that, not when it’s so new and so important to the person he’s finally becoming. but then one day, the unthinkable happens, the wanted posters for his arrest have an old name on them, they’re looking for the Tam sisters, and... nothing changes. the crew of Serenity could not give even a tenth of a percent of a fuck, and it doesn’t seem like they even know they’re supposed to. huh. that’s new. Simon could get used to that, he thinks.

i’m sure there’s more i could add, but it’s 4:30 in the morning now, so if more occurs to me, ill simply add it in a reblog tomorrow. if you’ve read down this far, i am in love with you. please let me know your Better Firefly ideas, too, bc im always down to yell about this show!!!

[xmint-conditionx]

《the emperor’s dagger》 ch4 | myg

❦ pairing: emperor!yoongi x concubine!reader ❦ w/c: 3.1k ❦ summary: you realize that your love cannot last beyond the secret meetings, but that doesn't make his pull to you any less powerful. he wants to give you everything in his power that he can, but the one thing he can't give you is the thing you want most. but that doesn't stop him from showing you how badly he wants to spoil you... ❦ tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, balcony sex, penetrative sex, one single instance of "daddy", light thigh smacking, gagging (on dick and being gagged), multiple orgasms, oral (f+m recieving), being tied to the bed, they both pretend like there isn't a problem so i guess it's not really that healthy ❦ a/n: please enjoy this unedited mess. school is kicking my butt right now but i figured i would get this out to you now and perfect it later lmao.

<3 minty.

taglist: @jiminisnotavirgin @aretha170 @btstrash2013 @bbykoos @aquaalanah

You’ve both learned to be more careful. Both with your time, and your feelings. The relationship feels more professional than it did in the recent past, but along with the sting comes the assurance that it’s the right thing to do. It’s the safe thing to do.

Your nightly sword fights have continued without a hitch, although you’ve yet to use a real blade again, since that night a month ago.

He’s made a deliberate effort to formally request you less, and for you, that has likely been the most painful thing. He’s called on other concubines, and the only time the two of you are intimate is when it’s “off the books'' so to speak. The two concubines you’ve grown closest to over your time here, Euriyan and Wysteria, take notice of your pallid demeanor.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Euriyan asks between bites of their lunch.

“Talk about what?”

They both give you the look.

“Nothing’s wrong, seriously,” you say, taking another bite. Wysteria rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to… but I want you to know that I know,” Euriyan says, in an almost threatening manner.

“Wait, what? What do you know?” you ask in a panicked hush. How could they possibly know about your romantic affair with the king?

“I know something is bothering you. You can’t think I don’t know my best friend,” Euriyan says nonchalantly, swallowing their bite before realizing what you thought they meant. Their eyes fly wide open.

“Wait, you have a secret!” they say a little too loudly, so you gently shush them. Shit.

“Okay, yes,” you admit, “I have a secret, and it’s bothering me a little. That’s it.”

“Well, if I can’t know, it must be important,” Wysteria says, mid chew, “Is it your family? Is your mom okay?” she asks, eyebrows scrunching in worry.

“Mom’s fine. She’s actually doing much better. She went with Uncle Benji to the market the other day.”

“Just know you can tell me if you need to, okay?” Wysteria says and Euriyan nods.

“I know,” you say, “I just can’t.”

“It can’t be worse than me sleeping with the head guard,” Euriyan says nonchalantly.

You and Wysteria both stop chewing.

“You can’t be serious!” you exclaim, “how in the world can you manage that?!”

“Well, he does know all of the imperfections in the patrols…” they say. Of course, it’s the same way that you and the King are able to sneak off.

“How long has this been going on?!” Wysteria asks.

“Probably about a month and a half,” they say, continuing to chew, “He’s always been very professional, but something came over me at the moon festival last month.”

“You mean you approached him?!” you ask.

“Yeah,” they say, “he was looking up at the sky and I asked if he liked to look at the stars… then I asked if he wanted to look at them with me… and then he did… then I fell… on his dick… So it can’t be worse than that.”

You stay silent, moving around the bits of your lunch left on the plate.

“It’s not worse than that... right?” they ask.

“Everything is going to be okay,” is all you can say, before picking up your plate and walking back inside.

That night, your king requests you to his chambers instead of the meadow, which is a welcome surprise. Sneaking into the room, you gently close the large and ornate doors behind you before turning toward where your king sits waiting for you.

“Come, sit,” he says, smiling at you as he pats the space on his bed next to him.

You sit on his sheets comfortably, making yourself at home in his presence. No matter how much you tell yourself not to get carried away, you can’t help but melt.

“It’s your birthday next week,” is all he says.

“Um… yes…” you reply, unsure of where this is going.

“So, tell me what you want,” he commands.

“I don’t want anything, Your Majesty,” you say.

“Of course you do!” he says, “Ask me for anything in the world, and it’s yours.”

At that last statement, you can’t help but to wince a little. There are some things even a king cannot get for you. The thing you want most is the one thing he cannot give you.

“My parents could use another fishing boat,” you say, lighting up.

“The gift is meant for you, dove,” he says, but your pleading expression is unwavering. He sighs.

“If it would truly make you happy, then a new fishing boat for your parents would be my pleasure. But that will not stop me from getting you a gift as well…”

“It had better!” you tease, “I said I don’t want anything.”

“Nothing?” he asks, leaning in so that you can feel his breath on your skin, “Nothing at all?”

“Well, there is one thing,” you tease, “but I think you would have no problem giving it to me now…”

You allow your hand to wander up his thigh, and you hear a sharp intake of breath when you give it a small squeeze.

“I ought to make you wait until your birthday…” he says.

“You wouldn’t…”

“I wouldn’t?” he asks playfully, “you sure about that, little dove?”

He runs his fingertips over your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Every time he touches you, it feels as fresh and exciting as the first time you snuck into his chamber all those months ago. You get lost in him every time.

“Are you going to answer me?” he asks, tone more stern. You meet his gaze as he picks up your hand.

“No, I don’t think you would.”

“You do seem to be my weak spot…” he says onto the soft skin of the top of your hand, “but I’m sure you know that.”

He kisses each of your fingertips, one by one.

“How does it feel to have power over the most powerful person in the kingdom, little dove?” he asks.

“I’m sure that’s not true, Highness,” you say, taking your thumb and running it over his bottom lip, “you are one of the strongest men I know. And you are easily the most stubborn.”

“But you cannot deny that I would do anything in my power for you,” he says.

“That may be true,” you concede, “but I would never ask.”

He stands up from the bed and walks over to the window overlooking the balcony.

“Yes, that’s the infuriating part,” he says with a chuckle before turning around. The moonlight shines behind him and illuminates his blonde hair like a halo. “Why won’t you let me spoil you?”

“I don’t need to be spoiled, Your Majesty.”

“Nobody needs to be spoiled,” he says, “but I can’t stop thinking about how incredible you would look covered in my jewels.”

“Is that right?” you ask incredulously.

Without missing a beat, he walks over to a tall wardrobe against the wall, opens it, and begins sifting through a drawer. You can’t quite see what he’s looking for from your position on the bed, but you can tell by his gentle touch that it must be precious.

When he turns back around, he’s holding a large and heavy-looking necklace that shines a deep green in the dim candlelight. He makes his way back to you and kneels down at the bedside. He reaches up and around your neck to place the jewels, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he tries to fasten it. He leans in further to get a better view of the clasp, and his warm breath ghosts against your neck. The cold hard metal of the necklace is a shocking sensation after his soft and warm breath. Once secured into place, he pulls back and can’t hide his smile.

“I told you that you’d look incredible,” he says, as he runs his fingers over the jewels and down your cleavage, “I wonder…”

He looks up at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, as if he’s asking a question. You’re not sure what exactly he’s up to, but you want to find out. You smile back as your answer, and he begins to dip his fingers beneath the edge of the fabric by your breasts.

You shift to allow him to pull the fabric down, and the cool air is shocking against your now exposed breasts. You think that he’s going to spend more attention there, but he just continues to slowly pull the fabric down. Once he gets to your hips, you raise yourself up and help him by shimmying out of the rest of the fabric.

Once your body is fully exposed, he tosses your white dress to the bottom side of his large bed, and turns back around. He goes back to the wardrobe and pulls the whole drawer out before returning back to you. He kneels in front of you again and sets the drawer beside his legs on the wooden floor. As he lowers it, you look inside to see a drawer filled with shining jewelry. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, delicate crowns, all glistening and all too nice to be worn by you.

“Let’s see how much we can fit on you…” he says, grabbing a diamond bracelet and draping it over your wrist. One by one, he adorns you with items from the drawer. Your fingers are covered in rings, jewels drape off of your wrists and ankles, your neck is heavy with the weight of the many necklaces, and a single ornate circlet decorates your forehead.

“In front of me is every last piece of royal jewelry that exists outside of the vault, and you are still the most beautiful thing I see.”

He leans forward and presses a wet kiss on your stomach before kissing his way back up your body, underneath your breasts, lips grazing against your pert nippples before he’s nibbling at your neck.

You begin to work at one of the necklaces to unfasten it from your neck, but he reaches for your wrist before you can.

“No, keep them on,” he says against your skin, “luxury looks good on you.”

He kisses you hard, not wasting any time before opening his mouth and biting your bottom lip. You groan as his hands grab your hips and thumb presses into you. The aching between your legs begins to spill out; you can feel your wetness beginning to pool. He breaks the kiss and tosses you over to the top of the bed, where you bounce gingerly on the pillows that lay there.

He strides quickly back over to the wardrobe and grabs something colorful.

Before you can register what he’s holding, he’s back on top of you; his weight presses you into the bed, and you can feel his cock twitch as he leans his body down over you. As he nibbles along your ear, he takes one of your wrists and hoists it up, and then you feel something cool and soft being secured around it.

When he releases, he quickly moves over to the other hand, leaving you the opportunity to look at his handiwork. Your wrist is secured to the post of his bed with a tight knot in the most beautiful silk you’ve ever seen.

He finishes the other side, and kisses his way up the length of your arm before settling back onto your lips.

“I’m not waiting for you to test my patience tonight, brat,” he says between kisses as he trails back down your body. He plants a sloppy kiss on your aching cunt, and looks back up at you through his lashes from where he is. “I want you to come on my mouth, slut. Do you think you can do that for me?”

“That kind of depends on you, don’t you think?”

He responds with a sharp smack against your thigh, causing you to yelp slightly. He narrows his eyes at you.

“You know better. Keep that pretty little mouth shut, too,” he says before plunging his tongue into your slit. The contact makes your fists clench until your knuckles turn white, and you really, genuinely try to keep it down.

He rolls your clit with his tongue and then closes his lips around it to add suction, and you suck in a sudden breath. Your body tenses up in an attempt to stifle your own moans, but despite your best efforts, a whimper escapes. He stops and looks up at you”

“One more chance, dove,” he says against your heat, “before I have to intervene.”

He continues his unrelenting pace on your clit, and as you begin to climb the mountain, he inserts two fingers into your slit, and you grit your teeth at the small stretch. He curls his fingers upward, hitting your spot, and you teeter on the edge of orgasm. Your thighs tense and tighten around his head, signaling to him that you’re closing in. The king looks up at you once more, and the hunger in his onyx eyes alone pushes you the rest of the way.

You come hard on his lips, unable to stop the small moan that escapes your lips. As you ride out your high, you’re bucking your hips against his mouth before he can wrap his hands around your thighs and hold you still. When you’ve finished coming down, you lay there panting as you hear and feel him readjusting himself. You close your eyes and hear the rustling of fabric before you feel his weight climbing towards you.

You open your eyes to find him walking toward you on the bed, his hard cock at eye level. You put on your best doe eyes and wonder what’s going to happen next.

He stands over your sitting body, cock inches from your mouth.

“Looks like we’re going to have to give that mouth something other than moaning to do, aren’t we, dove?”

You gladly take his length into your mouth in one go. It’s been a little while since you’ve gotten to give him head, and honestly, you miss it. Even without your hands, you’re confident in how weak you can get him.

You flirt with deepthroating as you take him all the way in, but as soon as it seems like you might, you back off and let him back out. He seems to be growing impatient, but you know it takes more than a little bit of teasing for your king to lose control.

You let him slip all the way out, and lean forward to that his shaft is resting on your lips. You move your head forward, licking the bottom as you find one of his balls. You look up and meet his gaze before sucking it into your mouth and rolling it over your tongue. It pops as you release it, and he grunts so quietly you could have missed it.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been able to suck you,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes as his tip rests on your lips, “I think I forgot how…” He grabs onto your hair and speaks in a low voice.

“Then practice.”

You take him back into your mouth, this time opening your throat and sucking him all the way in. You hold him back there as long as you can, before tears begin prickling in the corners of your eyes. When you’re desperate for air, you release him and gasp. The tears fall out of your eyes and down your cheeks. You look up at him and watch as his chest rises and falls.

“Am I doing it right, daddy?”

He answers by pulling your head back onto him, so that you’re taking him in once again. He tightens his grip on your hair and begins to fuck your face, something that you’ve been waiting for. You know it won’t be long until he’s spilling inside of you. You hollow out your cheeks and look up, and as soon as he meets your gaze, he pulls out.

As you’re catching your breath, he quickly unties your hands and practically drags you off of the bed and onto the outdoor balcony. The balcony overlooks the back wall of the palace, and beyond that is stretching forest. He bends you over so that you’re supporting yourself with the balcony railing, and he takes one of those silk ties and gags you with it, securing it behind your head.

He pushes you forward with his body and pulls your hair so that you’re standing upright, neck extended back. His hand glides across your neck as his dick presses against your opening.

He doesn’t tighten his grip on your neck, but he eases himself into your dripping entrance. You moan at the slight ache of his length stretching you out, and then the sound is cut off as he tightens his hand.

“You have been spoiled, don’t you realize? In the clearing, you can be as loud as you want. But you’ve forgotten how to behave, haven’t you?”

You can hear the wet sounds of your cunt as he thrusts into you, setting an unrelenting pace. Before long, you find yourself nearing climax again, and you tighten around him. His hips sputter as he begins to reach his own climax, so you reach your hands back behind your head and tangle them in his hair. As soon as you give it a sharp tug, you hear him groan as he spills inside of you, and your second orgasm of the night begins immediately after.

After you both have cleaned up, you lay stretched out on his large bed as he’s putting the jewels away.

“You seem to be in good spirits lately,” you say, “any good news?”

He places a ring in its proper place in the drawer, and considers for a moment.

“Yes, there is good news, but you may tell no one.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. You have my word.” He sighs.

“I am making efforts toward a peace treaty with the neighboring kingdom. A century of war could be drawing to a close, my dove.”

“And your generals are pleased with this?” you ask. He sighs again, deeper this time.

“The generals do not know.” You allow him to continue.

“I am engaging in secret correspondence with the neighboring king,” he says, turning towards you, “If all goes well, this treaty will be done with only the two of us. We are both tired of fighting, it seems.”

“So, you think this will go well, then?” you ask, and see a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Our lives will depend on it, dove.”

[gltwrites]

the day isym said: i'm gonna fuck shit y'all up

So this is how it ends. I guess I won't be able to let this go sooner, or not ever.

Following the lives of these incredible characters since 2014 had been an astonishing journey for me. And now, we reached the end of one of the most-loved mangas, Attack on Titan/Shingeki No Kyojin—probably the only masterpiece that will touch my heart like this in this lifetime.

What an awful timing it was that chapter 139 arrived at the time I was supposed to be celebrating with my mutuals on exoltwt lol. While, overall, I rate AoT as 11 out of 10, I can't eschew that the culmination has left me qualms and questions unresolved.

Let's start with Armin thanking Eren for his sacrifices for Paradis—which equates to thanking him for committing a global genocide (bro, wtf???). This did not sit right with me, but I'm taking into account that Armin could see there was no easy way out, and that he believes achieving peace requires sacrifices, notwithstanding his altruistic nature and efforts to not completely throw away his humanity.

And I'm also considering the fact that, with the reality Paradis had, bringing off peace without lives being taken was a wishful thinking.

His idealistic worldview clashed with Eren's, and he wasn't able to present a solid resolution 'til the windup. And yet, Armin was still willing to talk things out with his best friend so they could come up with a better plan, without further casualties.

Up until the very end, he wanted PEACE.

I think, this is what makes Armin admirable, contrary to what other readers paint him out to be—weak and useless. He's one of the strongest and skilled characters in AoT imo. He didn't need to be a Titan or an Ackerman. He's innately whip-smart and a natural tactician, making himself a consequential character despite his lacking combat skills.

Weighing up Armin's burdens and the mental load he carries, it hurts to be in his shoes, especially since he's the commander. He's torn between his friend's life and the rest of the world. He took the responsibility of the Rumbling aftermath to shoulder Mikasa's burden and let her live in peace.

And in the end, conflict dragged on, and he ended up with a large obligation to the people.

There were little appearances of Historia, which I initially found a bit absurd since she's among the important characters in the whole series. She didn't say anything, and her pregnancy was for what again? I was disappointed. Her bearing a child held no importance and was a random subplot.

Conversely, amid a slew of readers demanding her clarification on knowing Eren's plans from the get-go, her explanation on the matter would be unnecessary. It seemed to me she has done her part on how the story would play out. And if there was an epilogue or a succeeding set of panels, Historia might've made her comeback since her role as the queen is expected to hugely partake in peace propositions.

And over and above these, the final chapter seemed...rushed? I feel like some panels need to be fleshed out more, such as the whole of Founder Ymir's feelings towards that bitchass abuser Karl Fritz. I was appalled that the root of the sufferings that prolonged for two millennia was because of her martyrdom and servitude to the king and the royal family, which she described as love.

But in reality, without having to chew this over, Ymir didn't really know what true love is. She was a slave since birth, her family was massacred by Karl Fritz, and was impregnated thrice by this murderer who never gave a shit about her. She lived a wretched life, manipulated and abused, and died after jumping in front of the spear to protect the king.

Brought by fear of losing the power of the titan, he made her daughters eat Ymir's flesh and told then to bear many children. Sick fuck.

Then Ymir discovered Mikasa, who she deemed a mirror of her own. The difference, however, is that Mikasa's love for Eren isn't one-sided. And so her greatest desire to be freed from an abusive relationship was accomplished after discovering what real love is through EreMika.

Speaking of Eren, I can understand why plenty of readers condemned him. The guy, who masked himself as a peak tsundere, cold, temperamental bastard, exterminated almost the entire global population, and when asked by Armin his reason, he said he didn't know why, so from here we can assume he neither had a goal behind that warped undertaking nor did it for the greater good.

But Armin is smart, and Eren's silence was a tacit answer. The predicament seemed unsolvable, and wiping 80% of humanity is his last resort to hold off the rest of the world from attacking Paradis.

Taking also into account that he didn't mean to have his mother killed by Dina after rerouting her from Bertholdt. If he didn't, Bertholdt wouldn't end up as the Colossal Titan and Armin wouldn't have eaten him and died along the way.

Bear in mind that Eren believed Armin would save the world, but if he kicked the bucket—and had Eren, who was obviously enslaved by his destiny, altered anything in his memories—would unravel another reality unknown to Eren that could pose a bigger risk.

And the fact that he let the familiar fate dictate him meant opening a door to another door of possibilities of achieving world peace, with Armin taking the lead.

By making himself the bad guy in his story to make his friends be the heroes, the ending suggests that harmony would work out in the end.

In 139, Armin, Reiner, Pieck, Annie, Jean, and Connie were planning to make peace negotiations. And through this, there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

Levi finally bidding farewell to his comrades bawled my eyes out—this is probably the saddest shit ever AoT has ever done to me, next to Erwin's death. Levi is the last one existing among his original comrades, and it sent a pang to my heart when he did his final salute, wearing a faint smile while wrapped in bandages.

It was not indicated what he'd been doing post-Rumbling. The end of Titans' curse also put an end to the Ackerman bloodline's "awakened power" and above-average human strength, so he's probably a military consultant or mentor, given his amazing contribution as humanity's strongest warrior.

It was also shown he remained in the capital and is with now-grown Falco and Gabi, who both have shown their potential for a military career.

Meanwhile, unlike Levi, Mikasa chose to retire and live in her hometown. While others remark her ending as tragic (I'm guilty of this tbh), her former comrades were on their way to see her and visit Eren's grave next to the tree from their childhood, making her not entirely lonely. I wished she and Armin were in the same multiple frames of the latter panels of the final chapter as they both grieve losing Eren. But given Armin's new and bigger responsibilities for humanity, it's impossible.

EreMika may not be endgame, and I may be bound to perpetual frustration of them never getting the chance to wear their hearts on their sleeves, I am satisfied with the ending—imperfect but fitting. It's actually funny that my feelings got the best of me upon reading the last chapter, and cursed at the story for not ending in absolute peace and bliss, forgetting that AoT had always been a poignant, anxiety-induced, existentialist story, and hinted at a bittersweet finale from the start.

[smaidjor]

i know they're losing (chapter 2)

Hello everyone! Since the last chapter received such a positive response (well, if screaming could be called a positive response), I've decided to not make you all wait long for the second chapter of this fic. Also, I have no self-control. Anyways!

Once again obligatory disclaimer this is characters not people, don't ship real people, etc.

Chapter Title: over snow and winter's morn

Chapter Wordcount: 3203

Content warnings: more discussion of death, also quite a bit of Scott being a bit of a dick. He's going through it, besties.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Actual fic under the cut:

Jimmy doesn’t get a chance to return the ring any time in the next few weeks. Scott must have told Katherine that he visited, since she doesn’t come to bother him about it, and every time Jimmy tries to go to Rivendell, something gets in the way. Demon attacks, urgent business in his empire, once even Scott’s own guards turning him away. Apparently Scott is a ‘busy elf’. Jimmy doesn’t doubt he is, but he also doesn’t doubt that Scott’s actively trying to avoid him. Scott is a petty man, ultimately, and Jimmy knows this, used to love it like he loved all his husband’s flaws, all his imperfections that were perfect to Jimmy. Now, though, it just hurts that Scott’s turning that pettiness on him.

Finally, something changes. Jimmy gets an invitation (in person!) from one of his closest allies; Lizzie wants to hold a ball, and she wants as many people as possible to come. It will be fancy and formal, with dancing and politics and all the things Jimmy’s just a bit awkward with, but he is an extrovert at heart, and well...Scott will be there, as Lizzie warns him.

“I know you and him don’t really get on, so I get if you don’t want to come. I really hope you will, though, it’s going to be a fun night!”

Jimmy nods. “I’ll be there! I need to talk to Scott anyways, actually, got to return this ring to him. It’s important, I think.”

“Gotcha! See you there,” Lizzie says with a broad smile. Jimmy appreciates that she doesn’t ask any questions about the ring, especially given that it’s the one thing holding together his emotional state right now.

And that’s how he finds himself frantically searching for something fancy enough to wear to a formal ball, wishing he’d had the forethought to plan for this a bit better. Scott would have planned, he thinks, would have had an outfit laid out for each of them and the time it would take them to get there exactly calculated.

He shakes that thought off, settling for a green tunic with copper accents. It’s not the most elegant thing in the world, especially when you take into account the slime that’s dripped onto it, but it’ll have to do. It’s representative of his empire for sure, and the copper is a nod to his ally. It’s good enough, and that’s what matters, Jimmy thinks.

Lizzie greets him when he enters the ballroom, smiling widely with her new fiance by her side. “Jimmy! Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I did make it! Here I am!” The smile he gives her is genuine; he likes Lizzie. She's fierce and kind all at once, the best kind of ally.

Joel offers him a brief wave, which Jimmy happily returns before Lizzie drags him off to chat.

“So, heard from a little birdy you’ve actually been visiting Scott,” Lizzie says, a grin like the cat that got the bird on her face.

“As a favor to Katherine,” Jimmy quickly clarifies.

She nods. “She did say that, yes. She also said she heard about the visit from Scott himself.”

Jimmy hates himself a little for being pathetic enough to ask “What did- did she say what he said? Was he talking about me?”

“She didn’t say exactly, but he seemed ‘shaken up’, apparently...and a little wistful.”

“Oh, no. Lizzie, no.”

“Say, why did you have his ring?” She’s still grinning, a little more evil this time.

“It’s a long story!” Jimmy blurts, and flees. How’s he supposed to say ‘oh we were married on a server where we thought we were going to permanently die and then we respawned here and now Scott’s refusing to talk to me because the grief over my last death is slowly killing him’ tactfully? There’s just no way to do it! Nice one, Jimmy, now she thinks you’re in love with him or something, he thinks ruefully. Not that he isn’t- wasn’t. Wasn’t. Scott’s made it very clear that he and Jimmy are through.

Still, even with his depressing thoughts, the ball is pretty okay. No one’s gotten assassinated, there haven’t been any demonic appearances, Lizzie’s already showing off her engagement ring, and he’s pretty sure Joey’s going off about how hot demons are. It’s a decent party, by empires standards.

Scott makes an appearance some twenty minutes or so later, stepping into the ballroom with typical elven grace. He’s not a very elven elf, as he once told Jimmy, short and sarcastic with a love for mortals, but he still looks twice as elegant as everyone else in the ballroom. The shakiness in his step from a few weeks ago seems entirely gone, and for a minute, Jimmy’s heart leaps in hope. Maybe he’s getting better?

Well, only one way to find out. Jimmy swallows the complicated knot of emotion in his chest as he crosses the ballroom, coming to an ungraceful stop in front of Scott. Up close, the elf looks worryingly pale, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks like a strong breeze might sweep him away.

“Lord Codfather,” Scott greets.

“Elvenking,” Jimmy returns, dipping his head a little. Look, Scott, he can be formal too, alright? “Care for a dance?”

Scott stares for a long moment before giving a single nod. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind.” He takes Jimmy’s outstretched hand in his own gloved one, letting Jimmy put a hand on his waist as they start into a simple waltz.

Now, Jimmy is a terrible dancer, and he’s not too proud to admit it. He steps on Scott’s feet, gets off-rhythm once or twice, and nearly crashes them straight into Lizzie and Joel. But despite their current status as enemies(ex-spouses?), Scott says nothing about it. He’s silent, in fact, seemingly caught up in the music. There’s something wistful about his expression, something soft and gentle hidden under his icy facade. If Jimmy tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that the two of them are back in 3rd life, dancing under the stars, and Scott is looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

The illusion is shattered, however, by how heavily Scott is leaning on him by the end of the dance. He’s unsteady on his feet, grip like iron on Jimmy’s hand and shoulder. Though Jimmy can’t feel his hands though the gloves, when he brushes against Scott’s arm, it’s still a little too cold to be entirely right.

The music slows and then pauses before the next song, and they head for the edge of the dance floor.

“Thank you for the dance, Codfather,” Scott says. He steps away, face falling back into the emotionless facade so quickly it’s hard to be sure the tender expression of a moment before wasn’t a dream.

That’s the final straw for Jimmy’s fragile self-control. “Can we please stop acting like we don’t know each other?”

“What else do you want from me?” Scott snaps back.

“I- something! Anything! Just acknowledge that I exist, won’t you?”

“Acknowledging you exist doesn’t mean I’m still in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy says, a little softer, a little bitter. “I know, trust me. I just want you to stop- to stop hurting yourself to try and avoid pain!”

“That’s not what I’m do-”

“Then what are you doing? Enlighten me, o wise elf!” They’ve kept their voices low enough, but people nearby are still starting to stare at them. Jimmy can’t bring himself to care. “You told me it would destroy you to lose me, but you’re losing me now by pushing me away!”

Scott’s expression is pained for a moment before he covers it with a glare. “I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us, Jimmy.”

“No you’re-”

“I am an elf, and I cannot love a mortal. Humans are quick flames, burning and changing quickly. You’ll fall in love again, and you’ll forget me. There will be a mortal who loves you- I’m sure there are many already.”

“But I don’t want a mortal,” Jimmy protests. “I want you.”

“You can’t have me.”

“But why? Why, Scott?” His voice breaks, embarrassingly enough. “You said you loved me, you promised me all the time we’d be able to- to carve out, to steal from the universe.”

“I can’t give you that!” Scott snaps. “You’ll live sixty more years, maybe, a fraction of my life, a blink of an eye to an elf, and I can’t even give you that long! Not when I have to be the elvenking before anything else. Nothing I can do will ever be enough for you.”

“Enough for me? For ME? All I want is for you not to die to your own dumb plan and acknowledge my existance once in a while!”

“And all I want is for you to realize I can’t love you again!”

“Why can’t you care about me?”

“Why can’t you move on?” Scott counters.

“You’re not moving on, you’re just trying to forget!” Jimmy shouts.

In the silence that follows, he realizes that most of the ballroom must have heard the end of their little lovers’ quarrel. In fact, Lizzie’s somehow appeared next to him, laying a hand on his arm.

“Is everything alright, boys?” Her tight smile says that they will most certainly get kicked out of the ball if they continue this, and Jimmy can’t blame her.

“My apologies, Ocean Queen,” Scott says, switching to a formal tone with ease that Jimmy envies. He dips his head in respect, and only Jimmy sees how his hands tremble. “Everything is alright, but I am afraid I will have to leave early.”

She smiles again, dangerous this time. “No need to worry, Lord Smajor. Do try to avoid picking fights with my allies, next time, though.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises, and sweeps away.

“Coward!” Jimmy shouts after him, anger making him bold. “You’re a coward, Scott!”

“Stop it,” Lizzie scolds. “You’ve already made quite the scene, and I did essentially kick him out. I’m not sure how much further you really want to carry it.”

“He is though, Lizzie, he’s a coward! Doesn’t want to face me because that means facing- well, facing everything that’s happened!”

“What do you mean, everything that’s happened?” Lizzie turns to the gathered audience of people who have been watching the spat, shooing them off as best as possible. They slowly disperse, thank goodness. “You and he are enemies, right?”

Jimmy almost winces. “It’s a bit- it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“I can see that. Jimmy, that looked like a messy breakup!”

“It, um, well, it was. Sort of.”

“Oh, Jimmy.” Lizzie’s giving him a sympathetic look, which she follows up with a tight hug. “Next time, how about we don’t invite him?”

He nods against her shoulder, rage leaving him as quickly as it came. Instead, he just feels...tired. “Thanks, Lizzie.”

“Of course. We look after each other, yeah?’

“Yeah.”

Jimmy leaves the ball exhausted, still reeling from everything that happened. The few lingering bits of anger are what gets him home, a bitter taste in his mouth from the bitter words he spat. Coward! You’re a coward, Scott! He refuses to regret them.

Scott’s ring nearly ends up in the swamp again, but Jimmy’s cooled down enough by the time he gets back that he can’t bear to throw it away. Instead, it goes in a box which he tucks into his old storage chest, somewhere he’ll never have to see it again. Scott can go to hell if he wants the ring back after all that.

-

For a while, Jimmy’s plan to tuck the ring and never think about Scott again seems to be working. Lizzie visits a few times to check on him, but she never asks specifically about Scott, and Jimmy doesn’t say anything about him. He receives radio silence from Rivendell, and he tells himself that it’s good, that he doesn’t want to hear from Scott.

So yes, his plan is working, up until he gets a knock on his door and opens it to find Scott there.

The elf looks terrible, frankly, almost worse than he did at the ball. His hair, which is usually so nicely done, is a mess, cyan strands falling all across his face. His clothes are wrinkled and have swamp mud on them, his eyes have dark circles as violent as bruises, and he’s swaying a tiny bit. In short, he looks like he didn’t sleep for a week, chugged coffee, and fought god in a denny’s parking lot.

Jimmy thinks he’s kinda hot.

No, he doesn’t. Fake news, brain.

“Hi,” Scott says.

“Scott? What- why are you here?” Jimmy’s voice rises, in shock or outrage even he doesn’t know.

“I came to apologize.” Though he looks like he’s going to pass out at any second, Scott’s voice is steady. “I was scared- I am scared. I’m terrified to lose you again. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away and hurt you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Jimmy snaps, but there’s little real rage behind it.

“I know. I- uh- fuck.” Scott’s hands are shaking as he pulls out a little box from some hidden pocket. “I brought a gift as an apology.”

Jimmy takes it, curious despite himself, and finds that what’s inside is a silver bracelet with little crystals embedded in it. Flowers are the predominant design; he recognizes roses, hyacinths, irises, anemone, and poppies. On the underside, there’s elven lettering, though Jimmy has no clue what it says. The whole thing is a little clumsy, not quite as professionally made as the ring Scott once gave him, and Jimmy looks up at Scott. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm. I did my best, but it’s not as nice as I’d like.”

“It’s pretty,” Jimmy says.

Scott’s shoulders slump with relief. “It’s spelled, too. Protection, good fortune, that sort of thing.”

“Do the flowers mean something?”

“They do.”

Jimmy doesn’t press for details.

“I-” Scott starts again, a tremble in his voice that wasn’t there before. “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I really am. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I needed to apologize before my time ran out.”

“Is it that- that dire?”

The barest nod. “This is what I chose to do with it. Making that, coming here. You deserved an apology.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence, Jimmy staring down at the bracelet.

Scott breaks it. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to love me. I can’t promise you eternity. I can’t promise you happiness. I can’t promise you that I won’t have to be the elvenking first and a husband second. But I am yours still, if you’ll have me.”

A part of Jimmy is very tempted to throw both Scott’s gift and his love back in his face. He can’t bring himself to stay mad, though, not when Scott’s looking at him like that, with so much raw vulnerability. So much devotion, like Jimmy’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. It would be so, so easy to break that last strand of fragile hope in his expression; he’s offering up his heart on a silver platter, ready to shatter. Jimmy could- should- yell at him, reject his gift, tell him that he’s ruined any chance he has at Jimmy’s love.

Jimmy kisses him instead. It’s messy and it’s sudden and he very nearly drops Scott’s gift in the swamp in his haste to tangle his hands in Scott’s hair and press their lips together, but it’s real.

The little startled noise Scott makes gets cut off by Jimmy’s mouth on his. Scott’s lips are chapped and taste a little of glowberries, but Jimmy doesn’t care. He’s going to kiss his damn husband, something he thought he was never going to get to do again.

When they finally have to separate, Scott’s breathing hard, cheeks flushed. It’s a good look on him, Jimmy thinks, much more alive than his pale, rigid expression from before.

“So, I’ll take that as you want to stay married?” Scott’s voice is wry, collected, but his blush ruins the smooth effect.

“Of course I do! You absolute idiot!”

“Just checking.”

Jimmy kisses him again, just to shut him up. Scott goes with it easily, leaning into Jimmy’s embrace without complaint.

They pull apart quicker this time, and Jimmy holds the bracelet out. “Can you help me put this on?”

Scott nods. His hands are cold against the skin of Jimmy’s wrist when he fastens the clasp, but Jimmy grabs them and holds them in his own warm ones until they don’t feel quite so much like ice. It’s something. It’s a beginning.

“Come in and catch up with me?” Jimmy offers.

Scott nods again, and he doesn’t let go of Jimmy’s hand when Jimmy turns to go inside.

They talk about a lot of things. Empires, 3rd life, nightmares. Pufferfish, cake, flowers. They talk about the trials and tribulations of ruling; really, Jimmy complains that people keep attacking him and Scott nods in sympathy.

Eventually, though, the sun is starting to set.

“I need to get home,” Scott says. “You need sleep, not to stay up all night talking.” He goes to get up, and Jimmy immediately lunges, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t go! Please,” he adds, feeling his face flush at how desperate he sounds.

“Jimmy, darling, we both need to sleep.”

“We can sleep! I just….nevermind.”

“No, no.” Scott kneels back down, peering at him like Jimmy’s a puzzle that needs solving. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Jimmy.”

“I don’t want to be alone!” Jimmy blurts, and immediately flushes again. “It’s just, I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s this demon thing that keeps showing up, and I’ve only just got you back, I’m not ready to let you go, and-”

“Hold on. What was that about a demon?”

“There’s this demon creature that I keep seeing, and it’s really messing with me,” he manages. “It sounds like you, sometimes, but all distorted, and I can’t handle it! You know me, I’m not brave or smart or anything, I’m just Jimmy!”

Scott’s frowning, worry wrinkling his brow. “Alright. How about you come to Rivendell for the night, then? I can protect us both easier there.”

Jimmy nods, feeling especially pitiful as Scott helps him to his feet. “Thank you.”

“Always. Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

“I do, I just….give me a moment to remember where I put it.”

“Good. It’s important.” Scott doesn’t elaborate, and Jimmy is too distracted looking for the ring to ask what he means.

Scott’s offer of protection feels flimsier when he has to lean on Jimmy as they travel back to Rivendell, but even then, it’s impossible to feel quite so afraid now that Jimmy isn’t alone anymore. And it’s even harder to fear anything that could happen when he’s safe in a warm bed, his head tucked against his husband’s chest. They’ll be okay, Jimmy thinks. They’ve been given another chance, and this time they’re going to get it right.

[ginkgomoon]

Helios- A Character Study

I have always been fascinated by Helios so I’m especially excited about this post! If there’s any other additional information you would like to add, ask, or discuss, feel free to send an ask or a post so I can adjust and clarify for you. But before that, I have other things I want to add that are important regarding my blog- I will be expanding and analysing other characters in MLQC, so not to worry Victor, Kiro and Lucien (and Shaw, Eli?, Savin?) stans! I has't not hath left thee! In addition, before every analysis/study that I do, I will post a hint (such a quote) that will foreshadow the upcoming character/topic I will be covering. I know it’s not necessary and literally nobody does it but this is great fun for me so I also want to try to make it fun for you guys to approach my blog and my work! This is a spoiler buffet. Please don’t read if you don’t want to be spoiled! This is probably the longest post ever on my blog so enjoy :)

“You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain.” -The Dark Knight

Who is Helios?

??: Do you know what Helios means? The mocking in his face had returned. He suddenly came close and placed his hand on the window behind me. I was imprisoned in his arms and couldn’t move. His eyes drilled into my own. I felt that if I showed even the smallest hint of discomfort or fear, he would use that as an excuse to push me away. MC: Helios is the sun god from Greek mythology- ??: I don’t like that name.

Helios is the God of the Sun, sight and a guardian of oaths. He is seen to be riding a golden chariot to bring the sun across the skies each day from east (where the sun rises) to west (where the sun sets). 

Kiro has lots and lots and lots of sun, light, dark and shadow imagery attached to him. Kiro is noted to be everyone’s sun, especially for MC and vice versa as she’s noted to be the one to chase the darkness away with Kiro following through. When he has those stage moments as his idol identity, it’s expected for him to be the guiding light (especially for his fans, the Kirophiles)- “the sun” and “hope” as to what “Kiro” represents, without any impurities associated with that persona. Which is ironic for Helios, who dressed mostly in black without the blonde hair, to have that same name as the God of the Sun working in BLACK SWAN- the organisation with the name literally having “black” in it as well. 

“If Kiro is this exuberance and this life, Helios is the opposite of that. It’s what if we took someone who stopped finding reasons to be happy, who stopped finding a lot of things to be passionate about and was just trying to get on day by day- they react to the things that happen to them, rather than going out to look for adventure. Helios lacks a lot of emotion that Kiro has.” -Sean Chiplock, Kiro’s VA

Kiro and Helios

“If I had a dark side… I should hide it from others, right…? Can I really be imperfect?”

There had been a lot of discussion around Helios in relation to his transformation, whether he was acting and what Kiro’s connection with BLACK SWAN is. 

To clarify, yes- Kiro is Helios. Helios is Kiro. Just like how Kiro admitted to MC that he’s also the hacker KEY. Helios is just one of the personas that Kiro has (which I will expand on in a future post). This, however, does not hinder negatively on Kiro’s personality, but introduces us to another side of him, one that shows effective in-depth characterisation. Especially when we first view him as the cheerful idol with the power to passively attract others. Kiro first gave off the certain impression to Sean Chiplock that you “don’t take off the calm and quiet person, because you don’t want to see the other side of them”. 

Kiro and Helios, which one was the real him? Neither? Or both? -Clinic Date

Before MC has her first encounter with Helios, we have to look more into Kiro’s background and childhood. 

Kiro was experimented on as a kid. He didn’t know his name, his birthday or where he came from. Through the experiments of genetic modification, he obtained his evol. Only when MC and the original KEY came to him, did he really strive to fulfil his sense of purpose of “we shall stand in darkness as we defend the light”, and also to protect MC back. His mentor used to be the original Helios, one of the twelve-ranking positions in BLACK SWAN, but went missing when Kiro was 15. Been given the name Kiro, using his idol identity, accepted this as Helios and as of the leader of BLACK SWAN to rid Leto- the true evil of the Season 1 timeline.

It is evident that he does genuinely care about his fans, his career and music despite all of this. This aspect of him is very much true (we see that he exposes a person scamming his fans in Chapter 3 and that in his various dates he dedicates his work to comforting his fans in their everyday lives). However, with this much love and support from everyone with very few knowing his true intentions and darker past, it is easy to “trip up” upon these identities, in a way that he would feel so lonely (as I reiterate what I said above) that everyone would think he’s the perfect man (not saying he isn’t because we all know he is!) without any troubles or experiencing difficulties climbing up the ranks to be where he is now- especially with his evol being charm and control. He would wonder if it’s really him or his evol making people act this way towards him (why he has this much love and attention). 

In reality, every teacher who has met him adored him very much. But because of this, Kiro always remained in fear. From the beginning to the end, he had felt that the love and care from others was akin to smoke - surging at first, but from thereafter, dissipates gradually. -CN Stunning Young Idol Rumours and Secrets

He’s like a little sun with no dark spots at all. No wonder people say people say he has a super power. He seems to be loved by everybody… -Chapter 3-1

“A lot of people adore me, but only when I’m doing my thing on stage. They wouldn’t want to see me now...” -Visiting Hours Date 

It would be incredibly hard for him to keep this standard and uphold these burdens with his identity as Helios and KEY as well- where everyone would believe those personas of him to be the “vice”- the “evil”, in morality play. Because when the people who love you only know and love this side of you, what becomes of you when you lose it all?

Superstar Kiro was a little angel who received the admiration and respect of thousands and thousands of fans. What the hacker KEY sounded like was someone with malicious intentions.

-

Kiro didn’t know which one of his identities was more famous. Though of course, nobody would correlate these two polar-opposite identities together. -CN Heavens Home for Children Rumours and Secrets

He always looked so carefree in front of people, smiling and laughing. But when he was alone in the corner, he always looked so solemn and tired. Countless times, Savin had wanted to talk to Kiro about his work, life and feelings but with just a few words, Kiro would always put him to ease. -That Boy Makes Me Worry Rumours and Secrets

However, behind his brilliant smile, I could occasionally feel something different. It was like paper that couldn't be penetrated. After all, he was a superstar. Ordinary people like us wouldn't understand their world, they must have one or two faces of their own behind the screen. -Secret Base Rumours and Secrets

In the makeup room, sitting on the sofa, Kiro had lost some shine he had under the spotlight and looked a little bit exhausted.  -Confession Date

In a way, Kiro still staying so pure and happy when others are around is because he doesn’t want people to suffer like he did. He had an extremely rough time when he was young, but his beliefs, light and hope that MC gave him allowed him to fight for better days. 

I then thought about the superstar Kiro many years later, who was always shining and effortlessly charming. This made me really sentimental. How many things must he have been through to become strong enough to bring light to other people? -Echoes of Time: Parisian Salon

She looked so pretty when she smiled, and she also had a father who loved her dearly. She was definitely… someone who deserved to live the most. -CN Top Experimental Subject Rumours and Secrets

His dazzling smile conceals something underneath, just like how the dazzling sun shrouds darkness underneath. Hidden in the depths of his own secrets are things even darkness doesn’t know of. If darkness had a mind of its own, it might think it doesn’t fit with this pure and simple youth. Just as how everyone thinks of him as a simple, innocent Kiro, the sunlight casted on him, able to pierce through him completely, with rays of light refracting onto the floor.  Actually, since a very long time ago, he no longer was a youth… But now, for her sake, he’s willing to become a youth again. -CN Youthhood Rumours and Secrets

The thing I like most about you is that you never admit defeat and you always stay positive. Every time I see you it's like you’re this brilliant sun and I feel charged of energy. Maybe all the lonely times I’ve been through... was so that I could meet you. -Confession Date

When they were younger, they were together as test subjects for evol. MC promised him donuts. He gave her a stuffed teddy bear. Kiro tried to help MC escape but they got caught and separated. They had spent quite some time together, so Kiro would be able to recognise MC once they had met again. Kiro had to replace another child for a top experiment, and the workers thought he’d die anyway as he was too weak. But still, he had survived and became the first and only successful subject. MC showed him that there was kindness- light- that still existed in the darkest of places. And in the darkest parts of his heart, there was MC to light those areas up for him :)

“Look, this world is so beautiful, and you don’t need to be afraid anymore.” But till now, he has yet to find her. But he remembers her eyes. And one day, he will find her within a vast sea of people. 

Kiro remains speechless- quietly listening to the little girl speak. The little girl struggles to pull on his hand. Their fingers interlock together, the warmth from her palm gradually coursing into Kiro’s heart. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.” Kiro turns to look at her - to look at her perseverant brown eyes, looking at how the corners of her lips turn upwards. Kiro slowly learns how to curl the corners of his own lips from her. It’s the first smile to have appeared on his face.  “This time, I’ll be the one protecting you.” Kiro says excitedly. He stands outside the airport, staring directly at the sun. “I’ll find you, and protect you. I even have a mountain of souvenirs stored in my luggage- I’ll give them to you! And my purest heart - I’ll give it to you too!” -CN Youthhood Rumours and Secrets

Helio’s Transformation

“Because only you can awaken me from darkness, no matter when.”

When Kiro transforms to Helios, it mainly affects his physical appearance. His hair grows longer and changes to colour, and his black (and super cool) NIRVANA tattoo appears. When he is weak, the tattoo fades (seen in Clinic Date.)

Nirvana- a transcendent state in which there is neither suffering, desire, nor sense of self, and the subject is released from the effects of karma and the cycle of death and rebirth. It represents the final goal of Buddhism.

I looked at his silver hair. It looked very natural with no signs of hair dye. In the serene moonlight, it was very beautiful. It wasn’t dyed, and it didn’t look like it turned silver because of an illness or something. -Chapter 17 

Helios’s ring also plays part of his transformation. This is ultimately connected to BLACK CABIN and the 1908′s White House Explosion- when evol was born. From this high-dimensional space, Kiro is able to take on as Helios- who also known to be BS’s first generation of god. He can change upon his will, and influences from BLACK CABIN/QUEEN can cause him to lose control.

The golden hair mixed with the bright silver. He raised his finger, and the silver ring flashed. He muttered quietly, as if speaking to the ring and to himself. -Behind The Curtain Part 6: After Returning 

Moonlight shone through the window, illuminating his silver hair with a golden glow for an instant. He buried his face in his right elbow, and large beads of sweat formed on his brow, as if a kind of uncanny transformation was occurring. “NOT NOW!!!” He howled hoarsely, his eyes now golden in the darkness. Residual power inside the Quarantine zone appeared to be affecting him. Violent forces jolted in the tiny space, and coursed through his obsidian ring. -Night Watchman Rumours and Secrets

Chapter 14

He turned and looked at me, his face a pallid white. His smile was still gentle. Suddenly, I felt intensely uneasy. 

MC: “We’re going in, right?”

Kiro didn’t answer, his eyes intent on me gleamed with a flash of golden light above. When I looked carefully, I discovered his eyes turned into this exquisite gold like pure amber, or crystallised time. 

Kiro: “I command you…”

I have never heard him sound like this before. Stiff, stern and solemn.

“All within my range of control belongs to me. Now walk onto the rooftop, lock the door, and don’t let anyone in… including me... Don’t be afraid. You’ll be okay. I said before, I will definitely succeed this time. I will always protect you.” 

In saying this, he believes that his own sacrifices are necessary, no matter what the situation is. Kiro is willing to dim or even smother his own light and sun for MC to be safe and happy. 

A black figure suspended in the air behind Kiro, just like scythe-toting Death himself… I seemed to see a golden-winged bird fly by, like a ray of light crossing the sky, leaving a temporary light trail in my vision.

“Death”, “golden-winged bird”, and “light”.

This sentence was highlighted in the chapters’ outline from the chapter contents. This implies the symbolism of the phoenix bird- the mythical bird that rises from the ashes and is reborn again. Kiro was captured by BLACK SWAN as punishment and had undergone modification- and was resurrected as Helios.

Chapter 17

He was standing in front of me. Half of his face was hidden in the shadows, but I could see the sharpness of his eyes and eyebrows. He took the notebook away from my hands before I could finish my sentence.

As MC gets tied to the table, flashbacks from suppressed memories emerge. We see Kiro and MC together being test subjects. (Fun fact- Kiro and MC’s blood type is O!) 

White walls. A deserted lab. A cold med table. And a blond boy with agony in his face. Next to him lay a brown-haired girl who was unconscious. …Was that me? I looked at the blood pouring out from the IV. Tears came from my eyes. Kiro… Our lives were connected long before. But where are you now?

She finally realises that Kiro was that boy from the orphanage.

 AND I JUST REALISED SOMETHING. HAS HELIOS NEVER OUTRIGHTLY ADMIT THAT HE’S NOT KIRO? LIKE HE NEVER SAID “NO”?? 

MC: Are you really not Kiro?

??: How long are you going to keep calling me by that wrong name?

(Yes, it’s technically the wrong name because right now he’s called Helios but he’s also technically still Kiro!)

He didn’t sound particularly annoyed, but I felt saddened.

MC: I…

I looked at his face. Every line, feature- they resembled Kiro, but at the same time wasn’t.

MC: I’m sorry… I must be wrong…

I hung my head low. His face may resemble him, but his expressions were so unlike Kiro and I didn’t want to see that.

But my intuition told me that my hunch was not wrong. If that was correct, then one of my paths was already sealed.

-

Helios: What makes you think that I wouldn’t? You already know where I’m from. Why are you being so naïve? I shook my head. MC: Kiro wouldn’t do this to me… An unknown emotion flashed in his eyes. 

Poor Kiro, having to pretend to not know MC and act so cold towards her. It must have been incredibly hard and painful for the both of them. Please just LET THEM BE TOGETHER. 

Kiro isn’t risking MC see this darker side of him. He truly doubted if anybody would accept him as Helios, because he was just so used it before as an idol having to act so perfect on screen, showing everybody what they wanted to see.

-

“MC. Step a meter away from him, and close your eyes.

The golden flashes in his pupils were the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes.

“I command you to forget what just happened. And I command you to forget about me. Remember, I’m just Helios.”

My memories were being erased bit by bit. Kiro was fading from my sight. His smiles, his eyes, his warmth… all of them became vague like a fog and disappeared. I tried my best to hold onto them, but it was all in useless.

Kiro… Even the name I tried to hold on till last was wrenched away from me. He watched silently as MC closed her eyes and blacked out in his arms.

“I’m sorry…”

He apologised again quietly. His eyes that once held warmth and brightness were again now filled with shadows.

“I will find the truth that you’re looking for. I don’t want you to bear that heavy burden. I’ll come back to you some day, but not today. Don’t remember my dark sides. In your eyes, I will always remain Kiro to you. After I take care of everything, things can go back the way they were between us. This time, I’ll make sure that you don’t have to wait long.”

-

“He looked a lot like Kiro. But it wasn’t him.”

In my palm was a small candy glistening in the sunlight. On impulse I unwrapped the paper and put it in my mouth.

MC: Apple flavour…

It somehow crossed my mind that it was Kiro’s type of flavour.

He wants MC to still have faith in him, and to trust in his abilities to protect her, as the candy is a motif for their relationship and exchange towards each other. (This was the same back in the orphanage when they were together too.) However, as his identity as Kiro, not the Helios she encountered. (Dramatic ironyyyy)

“We shall stand in darkness as we defend the light.”

Thorns Date 

In the photo, Kiro looked completely different from what he usually looked like. On the glistening water, a youth held a birdcage, with a glint of melancholy in his drooping eyes. This was the last set of photos before quitting.

-

Kiro asked for my praise with shiny begging eyes, as if the prior sorrow and blue were all my illusions.

-

We stood very close to each other, yet at this moment, I felt there was a formed gap between us.

“MC, do you think the imprisoned bird can get out of the cage?”

-

There seemed to be a ray of golden light flashing through my mind but I couldn't catch it. (The thought that Helios came to see her?? Yes.)

I remember his distance, his apathy, yet puzzling familiarly. 

Helios saw the magazine falling from my bag, his face flashing with complicated emotions I couldn’t comprehend. And I felt the familiar feeling of being touched deep in my soul. 

“You like gazing at me a lot.” 

-

Standing at the edge of the dark abyss, he opened his arms and leaned backward without hesitation. He fell straightly like a folded winged bird in the moment. (Similes, metaphors and symbolism galore!)

-

I sat on the ground limply and closed my eyes to avoid the dazzling light. This scene felt so familiar as I had experienced such a farewell.. Why? 

My senses told me this man was Helios, yet the feelings from deep of my heart were so real. 

“Helios! Do you… know how the imprisoned bird can get out of the cage?” 

“Why do you think I will answer this question?” Behind such eyes, there seemed to be something else I couldn’t make out in the shadow.

I seemed to see him unfold a pair of black wings on his back and about to flutter away. No more cages could imprison him and nothing could make him stop. Helios walked from the bright light into the shadow. 

He recalled her last question and her sad and confused eyes. Suddenly he recalled an ancient story. There was a kind of bird. It was always trapped in the thorns of fate from the moment of its birth. If the most beautiful thing was doomed to be exchanged with the deepest pain. He would overcome all obstacles to come back to her. And be her sun again.

The story that Helios recalled could be The Nightingale by Hans Christian Andersen. 

In Ancient China, one of the forests lived a nightingale, who sang so beautifully everybody would stop and listen. The nightingale was renowned to be the best wonder out of all the things that the travellers abroad had ever seen. However, the Emperor of China didn’t know that such a bird existed, and demand to have it found.

The bird had come willingly to sing for the Emperor, singing so sweetly that tears came out of everybody’s eyes. The nightingale lived in the court thereafter, until one day the Emperor had received a mechanical copy of the bird, golden with precious gems and all. The nightingale had left, and all the courtiers had said that it was an ungrateful creature. It was therefore banished from the empire. 

The mechanical bird had stopped working, only being able to play once every year. Five years had passed, and the Emperor fell ill that nobody expected him to live. Death had arrived to the Emperor as he prayed for the bird to sing a note. The living nightingale had appeared again, and had come to sing out of trust and hope for the Emperor. Death went to look at the Emperor’s renowned garden as the Emperor was thankful for the bird’s singing. She sang again, and the sun rose through the window and as everybody thought the Emperor had passed. The Emperor wanted the nightingale to stay by his side but it refused. It cannot live in the palace, but promised to visit the Emperor to sing to him. 

A black figure suspended in the air behind Kiro, just like scythe-toting Death himself… I seemed to see a golden-winged bird fly by, like a ray of light crossing the sky, leaving a temporary light trail in my vision.

Similar to Chapter 14, in this date, Kiro is represented as the bird, trapped in the cage. He had to release what everyone wanted him to be- Kiro, the shining sun/bird trapped in the cage under their control- ironic how his evol is absolute control because his charm would have drawn people this way in as a result. And the only way to be free was to be resurrected, to escape, to disappear from public view- to become free as Helios.

Light Pursuit Date 

“Will you forget me?”

Kiro was becoming faint like a water mist. Panicking, I reached out to grab him but he slipped away from my fingers. An invisible wall had come between us and I couldn’t get close to him. This one step was like an unbridgeable gap between us, but it was like a line that we could never cross.

Will I forget Kiro? That sudden question in my head became clearer, and made me tremble in panic.

-

He had the name of a sun god, but even I couldn’t feel any bit of warmth.

MC: What is Helios here for?

Helios: We meet again, MC.

This was the first time that Helios called me by my name. He was brusque as ever, but there seemed to be a small amount of yearning in his voice. He did not act the way like the Helios that I used to know. His attitude and manners were surprisingly refined… like he was acting out a whole different persona.

-

The music changed into Por Una Cabeza- the tango song that I was very familiar with.

(I absolutely love the intertextuality that the game has. It’s a Spanish tango song that was also appeared in Scent of a Woman starring Al Pacino where the tango scene featured a blind man dancing with a woman who didn’t know how to dance and was scared of making mistakes. This correlates perfectly for MC and Helios. MC’s body is reacting to Helios as if he was Kiro...)

I didn’t drink, but I felt drunk somehow. Otherwise how else would this reachable warmth and illusion of intimacy familiar? 

We were so close to each other, but the distance between us was only one step away, but a step we could never cross.

-

Helios looked up when he heard my voice. His eyes seemed to have trouble focusing. His blue eyes wavered like a lake sprinkling with sunlight. Surprisingly, there was sorrow, and naivety in those usually unfeeling eyes.

He lowered his head and his chin rested on my shoulder. I have never seen Helios so vulnerable. His hands were wrapped around my waist, leaving no space between us. Helios didn’t answer and continued to keep me pressed to his body. There was a deep aura of loneliness and bitterness about him that was barely discernible from his cold exterior.

-

Because to me, you were familiar to someone I deeply care about. Because my soul resonates when I am close to you. Because…. of a ridiculous assumption. Did I reach the edge of truth? Or was I just deceiving myself? A thick fog was obscuring me from seeing the truth clearly. I didn’t continue talking or thinking. MaybeI was so vaguely aware that this was the closest I could get to him. Only one step away but a distance I could never close.

MC is also scared. She’s in turmoil. She wants to know the truth but she’s also sitting on the fence with it. Especially due to the memory wipe. It’s like, “maybe it’s better if I don’t,” and “I think you are that someone I care so much about but I can’t be sure about it because even if I ask you, you won’t tell me, and I don’t know what to do.” 

:(

Stardust Date

Kiro: That’s right. I’m going to a far, far place. And I will stay there for a very long, long time. Don’t cry when you start missing me. MC: I’m not going to cry!

Kiro: But I will. So promise me, alright? Don’t forget me, even if I leave. 

Two days afterwards, I heard him talk to someone on the phone. I’m pretty sure it was his voice, but it sounded like he was a completely different person. 

What was he trying to hide? Did it have anything to do with his “leaving”? Was it out of his own will or was he involved in something under duress?

-

The confident smile on his face as he glided his fingers across the keys fluently, showed his passion for this show. As songs were played after another, he became more focused. I could tell from his expression that he was fully immersed in this performance. As long as he was given a stage and music, he’d become the centre of attention no matter what position he was in. However, the more passion I saw, the more I was scared for his “leaving”. He is the sun- what will happen to his supporters when they lose him? And what about me? What will happen to me?

Light and Shadow Phone Call

MC: Is that melancholy in your voice? It’s unlike you to be down like this.

Kiro: Really? Does everyone think I’m that shallow?

MC: Of course not. But you are the brightest and warmest sun, so it’s easy to be touched by your optimistic side first.

Kiro: But right now, the sunlight is getting too strong that it’s scorching…

MC: Hmm? Is it? right now it’s sunset where you are?

Kiro: Yes. I’m sitting atop of Namibia’s Dune 45 and everything is red. Even the sun is sinking low.

MC: Soon, it will sink beyond the horizon.

Kiro: Yes… Miss Chips, Since you say I’m like the sun, and the sun eventually sets...

Kiro: If I have a dark side, I should hide it from others, right?

MC: Why should you hide it?

Kiro: Because, I don’t want to show you and I don’t want to disappoint others.

MC: But you’re just you, Kiro.

Kiro: I am who I am?

MC: Yes. Why can’t a sun have shadows? Even the real sun has sunspots! People who really care for you will love both the warm sunny side and the occasional dark, depressed side.

Kiro: But I always feel...

MC: Everyone has a side they want to hide in the shadows. No one is expected to be required as perfect. That applies to my little sun as well.

Kiro: Can I really be imperfect?

MC: Absolutely. To me, all sides of you are worth cherishing.

Kiro: Thank you, MC.

MC: What’s there to thank?

Kiro: Because… only you are willing to see the weak and plain side that I’m hiding and accept both my light and my shadow.

MC: That’s why I’m your own personal tree hole! I’ll keep your sorrows tucked away for you!

Kiro: Thank you Miss Tree Hole. I’m so lucky to have you. In fact, you are my sun who gives me light to embrace the world every morning. Thank you, for always being there by my side.

This call is so significant for Kiro, and his battle between light and dark. After his evol went out of control, he’s afraid of hurting his fans and MC. Similes and metaphors are used to compare his evol/different personas as the sun and how it will soon go down. He confronts the truth that he will also have to leave the public view soon, and uses this opportunity of the call to confirm what MC thinks if he had imperfections/shadow sides. And of course, to thank her before he leaves. 

Chapter 21 (Winter World)

He was so fast that his moves were a blur. He dodged every attack and landed his own with grace and strength. It was like watching a silver moonlight dancing in flowing moves. 

-

“You seem to be completely ignorant about how weak you are.”

I was trapped in a little cage he made with his body against the wall. The cruelty in his face crumbled the last of my shields. he didn’t stop there. He leaned in with his whole body hemming me into the confined space he created. 

Helios: Weaklings should learn to survive on their own. No one will teach you that. 

MC: I don’t want to be a weakling forever.

Helios: Then you better figure out how to become stronger.

He dropped his sarcastic tone. Instead, each syllable fell from his mouth with  upmost earnestness. 

Helios: Use all your strength. Every method you can think of. Abandon your past...even abandon yourself. If you can’t do that, then just go back tot the world you came from.

-

1562 clutched tightly on his friend’s blanket, refusing to let go. However, in the end, he was shoved onto the ground because his strength was too weak. He had collided so hard that he couldn’t get up for a long while.  -CN Top Experimental Subject Rumours and Secrets

If MC hadn’t come, then there would be no real sun in his life. He would only have artificial light. And he would be right- Helios would be just Helios. He wouldn’t bother much about fans or music, but using this identity to climb the system. He had to learn the hard way on how to survive. Nobody was there for him, thus it would be harder for him to feel empathy towards others in situations other than this. 

The sun had risen completely. The increasing bright light drowned everything that belonged in the darkness. Helios remembered that day a long time ago. In the darkness, the withered hand touched his head and said faintly, “become Kiro, be the so-called “sun”.

At that time, he had lowered his eyes, nodded blankly, and simply walked out into the night, emitting a false light that was not his own. But today… Helios looked off into the distance, and seeing the dazzling morning light, he remembered the girl… At that moment, he saw the real sun.  -Between Light and Darkness Rumours and Secrets 

From “Behind The Curtain”, MC fell into the space-time gap and was saved by Helios. Even though he couldn’t see her as they were in different dimensions, she could be influenced by him. This wasn’t the first time that he’s tugged on that bond tying them together to BLACK CABIN. Thank you Helios also for helping bring MC back to her original world.

Chapter 28

Kiro: You should know about everything that I’ve done.

MC: I know that... you’re Helios.

Kiro’s eyes flickered and blinked at me. The golden hair under the now eclipsed sunlight seem to have an extra glow to it. Kiro: Is my name really that important?

MC: Why did you hide it from me? I trusted that you would tell me. That no matter what name you had, you really wouldn’t change...

Kiro: If a superhero were to turn into an arch-villain, would those who always believed in him lose hope? What he want most is for you to be a fairy, free of all cares. Not getting hurt, not getting worries, whose only responsibility is receiving signals and joy and happiness.

Kiro: However, if she is determined to go do something difficult, and she wants to bear this burden on her own... then I wish for her to be a little superhero, who can fly through it all with ease.

Chapter 29

“Don’t get all angry. The person beside you didn't even notice any difference between us. Or put it another way, it seems that “you” aren’t important in this role that you’re playing. Anybody can replace you.” -Anole

Anole is wrong (and just jealous). MC did notice, and plus, he probably wouldn’t have survived in the top experiment that Kiro had undergone in the orphanage. That was something only Kiro would have survived, with his willpower and determination in his heart to make a better life for himself and MC- something that Anole clearly lacks.

-

I had never seen Helios laugh before. His smile wasn't as dazzling as his golden-haired counterpart’s, but one could say that if the former him was the sun, then his smile was now a gentle moon.

THE IRONYYY. Helios is finally okay with showing this side of him to her, from watching her go through trials and tribulations in the Winter World with the other Helios- of course he wouldn’t want any danger to be near MC, but knowing that she can handle anything after all that she went through, he now knows that it’s better for her to be with him instead. Also he learnt how to smile from her and now he’s smiling again as Helios and I’m just so happy

Whether in the face of violent, nefarious enemies or a wave of blood and bullets, he’d never shown any fear. I got the feeling that he was somehow nervous, or even afraid. Was it because he had to return into the spotlight, back the shower of roses and applause?

Well… when he decided to give all that up and step into the darkness with no turning back, what was he thinking then?

-

He leaned on the wall and rested awhile, staring intently at the black tattoo on his right arm… he looked at himself in the mirror. His silver strands of hair were tingled with gold, as if bathed in sunlight. And for only that one time, he didn’t avert his gaze from the desire in his eyes. It was like looking at a self portrait—so distant, yet so familiar. It was only now that he realised: this was the moment in his life most worth reliving. Once again, he had become Kiro.

In the PV/Karma (photo down below), we see him wearing black- not as Helios but as Kiro! Again, ironic how he’s holding a comeback concert he’s wearing black, a colour that represents darkness and shadows. It had been noted in the Snooper Rumours and Secrets that this is way out of Kiro’s style wardrobe. However, this signifies a range of things. The two personas are “merging” as he no longer hides this persona to MC- they’re one in the same. It has always been this way and will never change. The colour black also means power and authority, but can mean fear and grief. This is the same outfit when Kiro was doubting himself in the Light Pursuit Date as well. 

Right now, if we’re talking moon phases, Kiro right now is in “the void”. Meaning he’s “nowhere”. He’s Kiro but he’s also operating as Helios. He feels nervous to go back but it does come so natural for him to be in the spotlight. He feels stuck at crossroads with himself, especially when he got forced back to perform by Anole. 

Ultimately, it’s like he’s saying “no matter what becomes of me, I will always stay true to you.” And I think this is perfectly translated as Kiro says, 

“Miss Chips, wait for me.”

(”Wait for me as I fight for us both. So you don’t have to suffer.”) But we suffer either way.

His light and sun has always come from MC. He will always keep running towards his sun, no matter which persona he embodies. This, we can be certain on. (New Season 2 Chapters please don’t oppose this LOL.)

“I await you at the end of the opposite path.”

[shinysobi]

i came in from the outside, burnt out from the joyride (ii)

this was born out of a conversation with @akinosakiya, so all credits go to her >.<

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | coming soon

ao3

(A/N: so... i am extremely sorry for not updating,,, uni and life has been generally kicking my ass pretty horribly (im in my final semester lol) and while i am not generally very happy with this chapter, it is important because it sets up a lot of things in the future yeeet)

word count: 4955

Attorney Park wishes her good luck as she leaves for the courthouse the next day, and Sol can’t help but feel as though he was laughing at her for some reason, and frantically checks for food stuck in her teeth on the way to the courthouse. There isn’t any, so she’s left to wonder exactly what the hell he meant when he had sent her off with a very cryptic “see you soon, Kang Sol.”

“What did he even mean?” she mutters to herself, calling her sister, “Ah, Byeol, remember to go to your academy today, all right?”

“Okay, eonni,” her sister replies, “you’re at the courthouse, aren’t you?”

“Hmm, I have a case to win,” she replies, and Byeol wishes her good luck before the call goes silent, and she allows herself a rare moment of self-reflection, taking in the image of the Courthouse. It’s imposing, but she curiously feels at home here, in the middle of the city where the noise of the cars is so loud, she can’t hear the person next to her sometimes. There’s something magical about the courthouse, and she isn’t romanticising it, but the idea of fighting for justice, no matter how imperfect, it fills her with pride, even more so when she knows that what she is doing is for good.

Not to say that there aren’t any downsides to it, either. She gets threats almost on the daily, from disgruntled clients and from people who want her to take the case, even though she knows it would be an affront to her dignity. The Dean’s voice floats into her ear, reciting the Attorneys-at-act law that allows her to reject a case if she wants to. Right. It does not feel like an insult to her now like it had done then, the act, because she chose to take this case on, and yet, here she is, standing in front of the courthouse, wearing her nicest clothes (Yeseul had raised an eyebrow, but she was too tired to pay any attention to her) and dreading her turn to go inside.

“Eonni!” a voice calls out, and it’s Yeseul, dressed for a case, “how long do you have before you have to go in?” Sol doesn’t need to check her watch to tell the time that is left, ten minutes on the dot, and she’s waiting for her client to come through, still in police custody, something which she had failed to stop, “are you staring off into space again?”

She recovers quickly, “no, I was just waiting for the defendant to be brought here by the police.” She turns to Yeseul, who’s evidently not had much sleep, “why are you here in my case? Didn’t you wrap one up today?”

“Ah, I did,” Yeseul smiles, taking a hold of Sol’s arm, “but I’m here now, aren’t I? I thought you would need some support, you know, since you—”

She doesn’t complete the sentence. She doesn’t need to. Sol smiles at her, loops their arms together, and says, “do you want to have coffee?”

Yeseul grins, “I’d love to.”

—

No matter how many times she’s walked in here, and no matter how much the courthouse makes her feel at ease, there’s still a part of her that is anxious when she stands in front of it, hoping that she might be able to provide adequate justice to the person she was defending. It throws her off sometimes, the court of law. But she can always find her way back to it, and perhaps this is why she loves it, loves being able to defend people from being betrayed by the same system that they had put so much trust in, betrayed, just like she had been. It’s as though the law is apologising to her, albeit in its own, slightly twisted way.

The defendant, Je Sang-Hee, sits at her designated position, looking at her, and Sol draws herself up to her full height, careful to not catch anyone’s eye on the other side of the courthouse. Its oddly suffocating, the courthouse today, the air thick with a sort of anticipation that she doesn’t really want to address. Yeseul squeezes her arm, whispering, “you’ll do good, eonni,” and all of a sudden, she’s standing there, alone, with only her wits there for help. Shit. I wish I had had gotten drunk last night. At least this would have been hazier.

She approaches the bench, the defendant sitting silently, and tries to reassure her, “don’t worry, we’ll clear your name, all right?” she’s met with silence, as Sang-Hee only nods, her eyes welling with unshed tears. It’s heart-breaking, the way Sang-Hee has accepted her punishment, accepted that she would be going to prison anyway, so, nothing really matters. Sol doesn’t want that for her. She doesn’t want that for anyone, not even the worst of criminals. Sure, she may not be defending them in the court of law, but everyone should benefit from the assumption of innocence. She may not be the one speaking up for them, but she does wish that people have the opportunity to prove themselves innocent.

There aren’t many people in attendance in the courthouse today, which is a blessing, but she also has to deal with pesky reporters stationed outside, who seemed to have taken an interest in the woman accused of attempted murder, despite having really, no evidence against her. It was funny, how people jumped to conclusions, just because of the person’s backgrounds, or due to a particular defamatory article that may have been published about them online. Sang-Hee had had one published about her, filled with lies so vile that Sol couldn’t even read through it once.

“Sang-Hee ssi,” She says, approaching the defendant’s bench, “how are you feeling today?”

Je Sang-Hee looks at her, eyes still shining with tears, and lowers her gaze. She can’t even speak. Sol is angry, of course, but even more than the anger that simmers inside of her, is frustration, for not being able to protect her client, frustration at being unable to be the person there for the victim.

“Eonni,” Yeseul’s voice drags her out of her little reverie, “eonni, I think Joon-hwi oppa is here now.”

Sol squints at the younger girl, “who told you that?”

Yeseul holds up her phone, “Bok-gi is going to be here too, so he texted me. The two of them are going to come along, him and Jiho. Jiho should be here by now, but he hasn’t texted yet.”

Sol just—stares at Yeseul for a moment, trying to understand the volley of information that had just been thrown at her, in a manner not unlike that of Professor Yang, the man who, Sol recollects with regret, had heard about this whole mess from Sol B, but had not once offered to help. She didn’t need his help, though. It’s just that he could have offered to help her, and it would have been nice.

“Eonni,” Yeseul says, warning evident in her voice, “he’s here.”

What she doesn’t say, but Sol knows, is the sentence, don’t worry, I’m here for you. I’ll be here for you. She didn’t need it, per se, but it felt nice to know that at least one person had her back in this courthouse. Bok-gi was of course, on her side too, but she knew he wouldn’t sacrifice Joon-Hwi. Not now, anyway.

“You have your back to the Prosecutor’s bench,” Yeseul elbows her lightly, and she realises that yes, she has indeed been standing with her back towards the Prosecution’s bench all this while, and most importantly, there was someone behind her.

“Attorney Kang,” She knows that voice, has heard it in her head for years now, but Kang Sol finds herself unable to lift her gaze from the linoleum floor as she grasps the warm hand that was now being offered to her, “nice to meet you, finally.”

There’s a teasing lilt to the last word, a certain edge to the syllable that she knows all too well, having been subjected to it for hours on end, in classes, in the copy room, in the café, even in her mind. It’s from a voice she knows all too well, someone she had wronged.

Courage, Kang Sol.

“Hello, Prosecutor Han,” she looks up, extending one hand to the man in front of her, and—

She didn’t have any expectations of how she would meet Han Joon-Hwi after so many years, but in the deeper recesses of her mind, she had a thought; of his eyes widening at seeing her face for the first time in so many years, her falling in love with him all over again. She had thought of looking—no, not just looking, looking at him, for the first time in so many years, after that one fateful day when she ignored the words of her heat and went running far away from him, perhaps falling in love all over again.

Instead—she feels nothing. Perhaps a pang of guilt somewhere in the recesses of her mind, but when she looks into the eyes of Han Joon-Hwi, her best friend, the person she had fallen in love with, Kang Sol doesn’t see anyone but a weathered prosecutor, the boy who had called out her name on graduation day in Hankuk Law school long gone. Even though he looks not a day older, even though his eyes still crinkle in the same way when he smiles, and his hand still holds the same weight when he takes her hand for a handshake, but she can’t find the boy she was in love with anymore.

“Attorney Kang,” he grins, and his voice is the same, teasing when he looks at her, smiles at her, but he is her opponent, she has to defeat him today. This isn’t preparing for mock trials and judicial competitions, where they only played at being lawyers and prosecutors, this is real life. Je Sang-Hee’s life depends upon her, Kang Sol, winning this case. Against him, Han Joon-Hwi.

“Noona, nice to see you again,” Bok-gi pushes forward, giving her a warm hug, which does its job to dissipate all errant thoughts of a boy whose smile had haunted her in her dreams, “I’ll be watching today, my law firm asked me to—”

“Don’t worry about that,” she assures him, “you can take all the notes you want.” He’s still looking at her, she realises when she lets go of Bok-gi, Han Joon-Hwi is still staring at me. Do I have something in my teeth? “Good luck today, Prosecutor Han.”

He grins at her then, dimpled smile making her heart skip a beat, and says, “I don’t need luck, Attorney Kang,” before sauntering off to his seat.

Kang Sol clenches her jaw. Asshole.

--

He wasn’t sure how it would be—their meeting for the first time, but Joon isn’t going to say he’s dissatisfied with it. sure, she’s grown up now—she isn’t Kang Sol A anymore, she goes by just Kang Sol, and he doesn’t have the pesky tag of second-round judicial passer hanging around his neck anymore.

She had stared him down, and to no surprise, he still found her beautiful. Sure, he had always thought that there was a sort of magnetic aura around Sol, something that commanded the attention of an entire room when she walked in. She looked the same as she had looked, five years ago, when he had tried to confess to her, and she had rejected him. Sol hadn’t told him that she was rejecting him, at least not explicitly; Han Joon-Hwi was a man who could take a hint, especially if it ran away from him while he was in the middle of his confession. Really, Kang Sol. You made me chase you all the way to this courtroom.

A hand slams down on his desk, and Seo Jiho’s irritated voice tells him, “If you’re going to stare, at least do it properly.”

He sputters, suddenly thankful that his co-prosecutor was running late, as he stood up to stare at his ex-roommate, who was porting a very uncharacteristic grin, “what do you mean by that? I wasn’t staring.”

“Sure, you weren’t,” Jiho says, and even Bok-gi sniggers at him, “you were just looking in the general direction of Sol noona, so much so that everyone in the room thinks that the two of you are either dating, or that you want to kill her. Personally, I prefer the latter.”

He doesn’t say anything, just grumbles under his breath, and Jiho presses on, “did you prepare well for this case? You do realise that your evidence is weak, do you?”

“Ah, of course, hyung knows it,” Bok-gi steps in to intervene, and Joon-Hwi thinks for a moment that yes, Bok-gi was always one of the better ones, and then he opens his mouth again, “he’s just ignoring all the things he said before entering the courthouse, and proving to all of us how much of a hypocrite he is.”

Joon glares at Bok-gi, who is giggling at him now, and turns to look at the judge’s bench a pout on his face. Sure, he had proclaimed in the car that he would “not be looking at her, nope”, and the fact that it had taken him exactly three minutes to break that promise was bit laughable, but his friends didn’t have to rub it into his face.

“I don’t understand,” Bok-gi asks, “why are you still hung up on her? You basically took this case just so you could meet her again, and even though the two of you haven’t talked in years, you still talk about her, you still ask about her when you get the chance, so what is going on?”

Joon-Hwi doesn’t answer. He knows what is going on, why he has been so intent on meeting Kang Sol, even after so long, but he doesn’t want to—no, he can’t tell Bok-gi that. He feels a pang of guilt whenever he even thinks of telling Bok-gi the actual reason behind him running after Sol, even though she had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

He wonders, sometimes.

His co-prosecutor arrives in the courtroom, almost gliding over the floor to take their seat, and he can see Kang Sol shrink back a little, obviously intimidated. He doesn’t hide his smile anymore, not that he needs to either. She didn’t have to get flustered over his co-prosecutor entering the damn courtroom. She’s never done that, at least from what Bok-gi and Yebeom have told him; even Jiho had pitched in with his own comments sometimes, knowing exactly how much it pissed him off, but he still did it. Every time he met Bok-gi or he met Yeseul, he would ask about her, waiting for them to respond with “oh, she’s doing okay, oppa” and “I met her a few weeks ago, she was fine, hyung” and they move on after that, but he can’t.

They don’t possibly expect him to move on from her, do they?

“All rise,” the bailiff announces, and he dutifully stands up, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sol gently helps the defendant to rise up alongside her, before being seated again. She still did that little thing when she looked around the entire courtroom for people watching her, he thinks to herself. She’s still the same Sol. No, she’s different now. We both are. We both are different, but there’s still things about her that remind me of the times we spent in Hankuk.

“Prosecutor Han,” the judge tells him, and he stands up quickly to his feet, “begin.”

“Thank you, Your Honour,” He says, walking out to the defendant’s bench, “defendant Je Sang-Hee, you were indicted on charges of attempted murder, following an attack on your fiancé, Seo Changmin, on the fourteenth of November, two weeks prior to your indictment.”

“Yes, I was,” she begins, “but I didn’t do anything to—”

“I’ll be the one asking questions here,” he cuts her off with a dismissive wave of his hand, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sol draw an almost-imperceptible breath, shaking her head at him. She isn’t flustered. He’s very sure she isn’t flustered, because the two of them have been on opposite sides of each other, time and time again, “could you confirm that Seo Changmin suffered injuries because of you?”

She stares at him, defiant, and replies, “he did not suffer injuries because of me, I found him and I called the police, I’ve told you this.”

“Yes, you have,” Joon walks to the front of the witness’ bench, “but your whereabouts were also unknown that night, until that fateful moment when you actually found your fiancé, and proceeded to assault him. Is that right?”

She looks at him, scowling. He’s hit a nerve, apparently. They had been harping on that aspect for far too long than what was necessary, Joon had noticed when he had been preparing. He couldn’t go that way when he questioned her, because he knows Sol has prepared for it.

So, he changes his track of questioning, “Ms Sang-Hee, would I be wrong in assuming that Mr Changmin had visited you five times over the three days prior to the accident?”

She stares at him, “he is my fiancé. Or he was, before the accident happened. It wasn’t unusual for him to visit me multiple times in a single day.”

He stops, “and yet, when the police asked you about the reason of his visits, you chose to remain silent, evading the question—”

“Objection,” Sol says calmly, standing up from her seat, “the prosecution cannot ask leading questions.”

“Sustained,” the judge replies smoothly, even before Joon-Hwi has a chance to respond, “Prosecutor Han, you cannot possibly expect me to accept this in the courthouse.”

He nods his head, slightly irritated, now that she has taken his advantage away, “moving on, Ms. Sang-Hee, when you found Seo Changmin unconscious, why did you not call for an ambulance? You waited ten minutes to call an ambulance, which most people would argue, looks strange, does it not?”

She doesn’t back down an inch. Good. He hadn’t thought she would either. They didn’t have enough evidence to show that she was guilty, her indictment based primarily on circumstantial evidence that even the most punishment-happy of all judges would find difficulty agreeing with. But they had had her indicted, and now they were here, trying to get her a sentence that would be as heavy as possible. Sol had been right. He didn’t have to worry about the defendant, not as a prosecutor. He just had to punish people to the full extent of the law.

“I tried to wake him up multiple times, but he didn’t respond,” Sang-Hee responds, staring at the judge, “I didn’t think it was out of the ordinary, since he had always had a drinking problem, but when he didn’t respond to me calling his name in the morning, that was when I grew worried.”

She looks at him once, then back to her lawyer, Sol, who looked as though she wanted to strangle him. good. This means I’m winning, and turns back to him, “it was like him to come back drunk, so drunk that he could barely remember where he was, and his friends would drop him off at my house, with apologies, but he would repeat his behaviour. I wasn’t too worried when he didn’t respond to my calls at night, but by morning, he would usually be awake and demanding breakfast. That was when I started to get anxious.”

“Anxious? Not worried?” he asks, curiosity spiked by her peculiar choice of words, “were you anxious that he was actually dead? Or were you anxious that your—”

“he’s my fiancé, of course I would be anxious if he was not responding to my calls,” Sang-Hee stares at him, “you must not have dated a lot if you think I wouldn’t have been worried about my fiancé.”

A wave of laughter runs through the court, and he can feel the tips of his ears turn red. Even the judge cracks a smile, and he can see both Bok-gi and Jiho sniggering. They’re never going to let me live this one down, “so, you called the police then, who found your fiancé almost dead from a drug overdose.”

“Yes,” she looks at her hands, fingers intertwined, “they told me he had taken it about four hours before I called them.”

Ah, there it is. He knew it would come to this, he had known there was no way to win this case after all, even if he really did want to win. There were things he couldn’t do after all, despite being what they called a ‘star prosecutor’. “No more questions.”

The smile on Sol’s face is enough to tell him that he’s lost this case. Oddly enough, he doesn’t feel disappointed, even as his partner shoots dirty looks at him, a clear violation of courtroom conduct, but he can’t bring himself to care, fixated on the way she looks while cross-examinating the defendant, the way she turns to the judge and says “no more questions, your Honour.” It’s a far cry from the Sol he remembers at law school, the one who would have him act as prosecutor whenever she went up in a mock trial, even if he had been assigned the role of prosecutor, going up against her. She always asked him to help her practise, and like the fool that he was, he always helped her. Even now, as he stands there, watching her, it’s almost as though he is back at Hankuk; almost, but not quite.

“Court adjourned for the day, and will convene for the next trial on—” Joon can feel himself growing more and more antsy, as the judge announces the date for the next trial, and that Sang-Hee can be released from Judicial custody, especially since her health had been failing due to the stress of the trial and asthma, from which she had suffered since she was young.

He hurries out of the courthouse, only to be cornered by Jiho and Bok-gi at the entrance, Bok-gi with a large grin on his face and Jiho with his trademark expressionless look, although he knows both of them were going to tease him about this, possibly till he died and perhaps even then, they would find a way to sneak it into his eulogy.

Strangely, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Hyung, where are you going?” Bok-gi asks, even as Joon desperately tries to catch a glimpse of Sol through the now-closing courtroom doors, “shouldn’t you be preparing for the next date?”

He looks at Bok-gi for a second, eyes widening, “what are you talking about?”

Bok-Gi’s smile gets wider, if that’s possible, “really? What were you thinking about, hyung? I was talking about the next court date.”

Joon-Hwi huffs, “I was thinking about the same thing, Min Bok-Gi; now, if you will—”

Jiho opens his mouth to say something, but Joon barrels past the two of them, running down the stone steps and to the driveway, where his car was parked, and, presumably, Sol’s too. She’s walking faster now, and he has to run to keep up with her. Her ponytail bobs as she takes quick steps, in a hurry to get away from the courthouse complex. He doesn’t blame her at all.

“Sunbae!” he calls out, loud enough to catch the attention of quite a few people, “Sunbae!”

That catches her attention all right, and she stops in her tracks, turning to him, an irritated expression on her face. It doesn’t stay for long, however, fading just as quickly as it came, “so, you’re still sticking with that name, Han Joon-Hwi?”

He grins, “of course. It wouldn’t be me and you, if I didn’t call you Sunbae, Sunbae.”

She stares at him, with an expression he can’t quite place. “I thought we didn’t have that sort of a relationship anymore, Prosecutor Han.”

And, there it is. He can’t deny it and say that it doesn’t hurt to be treated by Sol this way, but he’s nothing if not tenacious, so he pushes on, “you did good today, in there.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nods her head, before replying with a curt, “good job today, Prosecutor Han.” Of course, she would say that; he doesn’t want to admit it, but it sort of feels like she had slapped him full across the face. Who am I kidding, if she had done that, it would have perhaps hurt less. He feels like a fool, standing in the middle of the road, calling out her name, and a years-old nickname that she didn’t like, and one that he felt only held significance for him.

What they had not had was closure; or at least for him, it was that, the absence of a final answer to his unasked question, something between them still hanging in the air. She could ignore it, live on with her life, but he cannot. There should have been closure, he’s told himself time and time again, or was I just too unimportant for her to even give a damn. It isn’t true, he knows, Sol wouldn’t do that to him, or to anyone else for that matter, but on some nights, it becomes impossible. He doesn’t blame her either; he blames his own self for the loss of his closest friend. If only he hadn’t been stubborn enough to ask her out on the day of graduation. He should have waited a little bit more.

But then, should he have waited?

“Sol!” he calls out again, jogging lightly to keep up with her steps, “Sol! Wait up for a minute—”

He’s interrupted, Sol turning abruptly to meet him halfway, which results in him having to backtrack, “what do you want now?”

He smiles brightly, “how about Pyongyang naengmyeon? I know a place nearby that’s good.”

She stares at him, like she can’t really figure out his deal. He holds up his hands, “look, all I’m asking for is a meal. No strings attached.”

Surprisingly, she nods once, turning on her heel, “lead the way, Prosecutor Han.”

--

I should not be doing this.

Her phone buzzes, and it’s Yeseul. You should not be doing this, the text reads, and Sol has to gather all her willpower to not scream in the middle of the street, I know, I fucking know, I shouldn’t be doing this with him right now, going for lunch when there’s—no, I just cannot do it.

She thinks it would be good, for her to have one lunch with him, to get him out of her system, Yeseul’s wisdom about not having lunch with someone who is technically her opponent in the court be damned. She just needs to have lunch with him once, and then she can stop feeling this way.

The restaurant is small, but bright light filters in through the large windows as they take a seat at one of the empty tables. There are a lot of them, she thinks, looking around, just after the lunchtime rush, or the restaurant wasn’t a very good one. Either way, she was supposed to be having a meal with Han Joon-Hwi right now, and as Sol takes a seat, she realises she had been vastly unprepared for this meeting.

He doesn’t look like the Joon she knew back in Hankuk, that is certain, but he doesn’t look like what her imagination had unhelpfully supplied her with either. He looks every inch the prosecutor, with dark circles underneath his eyes and that slouching posture she supposes every prosecutor has, as though he had been carrying the weight of the whole world. It’s sad, somehow.

“Are you going to order?”

“Hm?” She turns her gaze, and sure enough, he’s looking at her just like he had done all those years ago, when she had a stupid letter attached to her name like a real-life suffix that followed one around, and he used to lean over tables and grin all up in her face and mock her by saying Sunbae. It’s—uncomfortable. She didn’t think she would revert to her university self so easily, but with him, it feels like second nature, “You said Pyongyang naengmyeon, so we should get Pyongyang naengmyeon.”

“All right,” he teases, but it’s light, the kind of tone one would use with a co-worker, which strikes her as somehow offensive (am I not more important than a co-worker?) and she spots a glint of something else in his eyes, but shakes her head free of the thought, just as he says, “so, how is work?”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t think you asked me to lunch after all these years just to talk to me about work, Han Joon-Hwi.”

He smiles, “right, I didn’t, two orders of beef bone soup, please.”

She stares at him, “it’s summer,” and turns back to the ahjumma, “two orders of Pyongyang naengmyeon, please.”

He just shakes his head, looking at her in that funny way, and asks, “so, do you remember, or do you not?”

What is he even asking me about? “No, I don’t,” she replies, pouring out water for the both of them, “what are you even talking about?”

He shakes his head at her again, “never mind. Let’s eat.”

She can’t help but feel as though she had just missed something important, at least by the look on his face. Or maybe that’s the naengmyeon talking.

[fellintotartarus]

lovin is easy, you have me fucked up (emily prentiss x fem!reader)

Summary: It wasn’t as if Reader didn’t know that seeing Emily would end like this–she just didn’t care enough to see how bad it would hurt when it did.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoy! this took me a long time to finish for some reason. written for the @veraiconcos​ fic writing challenge

Category: angst!! so much of it, too

Warnings: alcohol consumption, brief and non-explicit descriptions of sex, cheating :( very angsty.

Word count: 3.5k

-

You walked out of the bar, the cool night air nipping at your bare skin. You let the tears flow freely and silently over your cheeks as you leaned against the brick wall of the building that would now forever be associated with your broken heart.

You had been foolish not to expect it, really. Ever since you met Emily Prentiss, ever since she skirted through the fringes of your life, you knew it would be stupid to expect anything less than utter heartbreak.

-

“Anyone sitting here?” you heard from beside you.

You turned to see (or not really see given how dark it was in the club) a brunette woman pulling out the chair next to you, waiting for your negative before sitting down.

“No, go for it,” you replied, more focused on getting shots into your system than keeping anyone’s seat.

As soon as the woman sat down, the dim red accent light from the bar hit her face.

Your breath hitched.

You were unsure if it was the substantial amount of alcohol in your system, but this woman was the most gorgeous being you’d ever seen. Her sleek, dark hair fell over her shoulders effortlessly, the way her lips pursed when she rearranged herself in her chair was utterly sinful, and her doe eyes caught yours, squinting into a smile when she saw you observing her. The soft, red light only seemed to solidify your belief that she wasn’t entirely human.

She watched you amusedly for a second longer before saying, “Emily.”

Her knee brushed against yours and you shuddered at the contact, shutting your eyes momentarily.

“Y/N,” you replied, whispering.

Emily evaluated you, letting her eyes rake over your body, assessing your flushed face, heavy breathing, and blown out pupils.

Slowly, she leaned in, her breath ghosting your ear.

“Well, Y/N. What do you say,” her teeth grazed over your earlobe, “we take this back to your place.”

Your place. You should have seen it coming from that very moment. But then her lips brushed your jaw, and you threw caution to the wind.

“You’re a stranger,” you breathed as she continued her nearly touch-free assault on your neck.

Emily pulled something out of--you couldn’t really figure it out but somewhere, and you were presented with FBI credentials at the same time as her lips sealed themselves fully over the hollow point of your neck, pulling a low keen out of your insides.

“Yes. Okay. Please,” you nearly panted, letting yourself be taken by the hand and led out of the club.

By the time the cab ride was over, you were a whimpering mess, putty in the hands of this impossibly human stranger.

She let you show the way to your apartment, stopping only to back you softly against the walls of the elevators, hands on your hips.

The next morning you woke up to a cold, empty bed, the only evidence of last night being your clothes and toys thrown haphazardly on the floor. You hadn’t expected anything less, honestly.

You dejectedly made your way to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, surprised to find a note next to the machine.

Really, you could hardly call it a note, as it was just the corner of an old newspaper with a phone number scrawled next to the date.

You smiled softly, deciding to save it for a rainy day.

After all, you could only call on ethereal beings so many times without consequences.

-

The second time you saw her was in a different bar across town. It was two weeks after you had met her and subsequently spent the best night of your life together.

The light seemed to bend to hit her at all the right angles, you noticed. It was as though she had a halo--a warmth that surrounded her that you just couldn’t shake. She was sitting with two blonde women who looked to be past legally intoxicated.

Your breath hitched when you noticed her sitting there. You waited desperately for what seemed like days for her to turn to see you sitting there. You didn’t help, either. You didn’t wave or lean in her direction, you just stood there staring.

You had never found yourself in a situation like this before. You were pining over someone you spent exactly one night with. Someone so ethereal and elusive that you were sure you had to have imagined her.

But here she was, finally looking at you, and over the noise of the bar, you swore you could hear her heartbeat. Eyes still on you, she made her excuses to her friends and started to leave. Your heart sank. She didn’t want to see you. But just as she reached the threshold, she doubled back, sneaking out of her friends’ eyeline right to you.

“Emily,” you said as she approached you.

“Y/N” she breathed.

Her aura was different. Much more real. You could see the imperfections in her skin, the graying at her temples. The light bent around her, yes, but you noticed her movements were not that of an ethereal being, but a woman.

But what is a woman if not an ethereal being? you asked yourself later that night as your thighs shook around her face and she pulled high keens from your mouth, balancing the expletives floating around the room by trailing soft kisses up your body.

Afterward, she stayed. You traded small secrets, small details about your life. It felt forbidden to know anything of importance -- like it would violate an unspoken contract.

She was barely there when you woke up, placing a soft kiss to your hairline before leaving as quickly and mysteriously as she came.

You wondered how long it would take for her to become Emily and not an angel that flitted through your life, somehow leaving you more confused each time.

The answer was three more encounters.

After the fifth time you had randomly seen each other in a bar (although it probably had something to do with how you two seemed to bounce back to the same place ever since you met there), you woke to the smell of cooking.

You threw on the first article of clothing you found (a long t-shirt) and blearily shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

Emily looked up at you from the frying pan, eyes lighting up and a small smile taking over her face.

“I hope you don’t mind. I normally have to run out for work, but I didn’t get called in today.”

You blinked. Honestly, you didn’t know she had a reason to leave before you could open your eyes all the way. You walked up closer to her.

“Not at all. Thank you,” you said, hesitantly wrapping your arms around her waist and planting a soft kiss to her cheek.

Breakfast had been nice. You sat together, talked about your lives, and saw each other in a harsh new light: daytime. She was as stunning as ever, even with her hair entirely messed up and her eyes tired from the night before.

But she looked jumpy. Nervous. Her phone buzzed on the table and you saw a text flash across the screen. She looked at it uncomfortably, as if it reminded her of something upsetting.

You glanced at her body language, which had been gradually shrinking from an ease around you to her barely being able to suppress her reservation.

“Are you okay?” you said softly, not entirely expecting an upfront answer.

Emily could barely even look you in the eyes before saying, “I should go,” and abruptly standing up. She hardly gave you time to trail behind her through the hall, stopping only briefly at the door to say a rushed “Bye.”

You stood in front of the door dumbfounded. It had been going really well, you thought, until she became so uncomfortable she left suddenly.

You spent the rest of the day cleaning and wondering what the hell had happened. You considered texting her, but you knew that you wouldn’t get an answer.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes at the thought that all of these nights had meant nothing. Had she seen you as just a hookup? You thought of all the times she escaped before dawn or rushed out as soon as she woke up.

Stupid, you told yourself. You don’t get attached to someone who doesn’t stay to see the sun.

One thing you knew, though, is that you would let her use you again any day of the week.

-

The next time you saw her was two weeks later at a standing room only show in a small hole-in-the-wall venue. She spotted you across the room and slowly pushed her way through the crowd, thrumming with energy, to you.

You knew you shouldn’t let her near you, that you would fall into her arms willingly if you did, and you knew her type and that she could never be what you wanted.

And yet, here you found yourself, reciprocating the look in her eyes with an unmatched passion as she finally wrestled her way to you, taking hold of your hips and swaying with you to the deafening music.

“I’m sorry for running out the other day,” she said in your ear. You barely heard her over the noise. 

“You could have texted,” you replied, knowing she wouldn’t hear you. Your head relaxed onto her shoulder. 

She tightened her grip on your hips and pushed herself closer to you, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as the song changed to a more upbeat one. 

Defeated, you let your eyes flutter shut and felt yourself give in the cruel cycle you knew would only hurt you. 

-

Two more months it continued like that. You would receive a late night text and rush over to her Georgetown apartment or you would hear a knock on your door well past midnight and you’d let her in. 

It was never more than a night and a morning, which is why, when she texted you asking if you wanted to get dinner, you nearly dropped your phone in shock. 

Sounds nice, you replied simply.

You knew you were naive to think anything would change, but fuck, if you weren’t in deep. You weren’t stupid. You knew you shouldn’t keep getting drawn back in. But when you thought of the smell of her hair when it hung over you, tickling your nose while she brought you over the edge again and again, or of her warm laugh in the split second of the afterglow she let her guard down, or of her soft skin puckering under your touch--you were gone again.

You didn’t know when the hell you got so enamored with the little hours you spent together, the small part of the night when the moonlight would stream through the windows, you really didn’t. But you did know you were entirely doomed to be ruined by this woman.

Getting ready for dinner that night made you feel fifteen again, waiting to be picked up for your first date. You sat on the bench outside the little restaurant, waiting for a date you were half sure wouldn’t even show.

You rubbed your palms anxiously at your pants, trying desperately to rid your palms of the tacky sweat accumulated there when you saw the telltale head of dark hair walking up to the doors.

She hadn’t seen you yet, sitting on this beat-up bench secluded by small, low hanging trees. You watched her for a second, taking the opportunity to see her without a facade.

She looked more nervous than you. A red tank top paired with black pants and black shoes and a seemingly forgotten FBI badge still clipped on the pants told you she had just gotten off work, and based on the heaving of her chest, she had hurried.

You chose that moment to wave to her and get her attention. Her head snapped over to yours and a small smile grew on her face. She walked over to you quickly, sitting down next to you before saying, “Look, I know I said dinner, but I just got off and I’m exhausted. What about we just get takeout?”

You grinned. You didn’t know why, but your heart swelled. Normally, in a situation like this, she would have flaked. Hard. But this time, she didn’t. You nodded.

Emily smiled, grabbed your hand, and stood up, saying “Alright. Indian or Chinese?”

Your heart fluttered at the innocent contact, and you found yourself snapping out of a smiley headspace when Emily repeated her question, tugging on your hand with a smile.

“Oh! Uh, Indian,” you said, blushing.

She smiled, leading you somewhere. You quite honestly had no idea where you were going, but you weren’t aware of that. All you were aware of was this woman in front of you, your hand in hers, her pulling you forward, the view out of a corny Instagram vacation post. 

You ended up at your place, Emily haphazardly kicking the door open while holding the bag of takeout. You barely stepped over the threshold before she took your face in her hands, kissing you softly and insistently. Your keys and phone dropped from your hands onto the hardwood and you reached out, taking her waist. The kiss was unlike anything you’d experienced with her before; it wasn’t a means to an end. It really was just a kiss. It warmed you to your toes and you pulled her closer.

After a minute, Emily pulled away, nearly giggling, a soft smile playing at her lips.

“We should probably eat,” she laughed, pulling the food containers over to the both of you.

You were elated. Sitting there, eating peacefully in the soft glow of the kitchen lighting, you were content. Emily hadn’t flaked, she hadn’t just texted you to hookup, and there you were on an honest to god date. You began to think maybe this would end up being as serious as you’d daydreamed about.

She glanced up and smiled at you through a bite of curry. You laughed at her face, nearly spraying food all over the table.

God, you hoped this would last.

-

The only thing you remembered from your single high school physics class were Newton’s laws of motion. Specifically, the phrase “what goes up must come down.”

And, fuck, did it come down hard.

You were half asleep on the couch, running your fingers through Emily’s hair, when her phone buzzed itself off the table with a clatter. The two of you jumped at the noise, nearly falling off the couch. Emily grumbled, stretching out and picking it up without leaving your side.

You knew something was wrong the minute she tensed after reading the name on the screen. You rubbed her back, trying to ask what was wrong before she cut you off, scrambling out of your arms to answer the call.

She was obviously trying to get as far away from you as possible before speaking, and she made it to the kitchen before saying, “Hey.”

You paused. Was she hiding them from you? Or you from them?

The thing you remember most vividly was the moonlight streaming in from the window. You never noticed the moonlight unless you were with her. The way it hit her dark hair and highlighted the sharp curves of her body was mesmerizing. Now, moonlight made you think of her.

She was leaned up against the corner of the counter, the surface digging into her lower back, the same moonlight that usually hits her face at night hitting her back now. You hardly had time to notice the dimples at the bottom of her spine before you heard her mumbling.

You almost couldn't hear her (which was likely her intention) but you could make it out.

“I was just out grabbing a bite.”

So you were the one she was hiding, then. You felt your heart fall to your feet. It would have been stupid to not expect this.

“Yeah, I’m going home now.”

You didn’t even want to hear the rest. You threw yourself back onto your cushiony couch and did your best to not let tears build.

You couldn’t even try to rationalize it in your head. You knew fully well that to expect anything else would have been foolish. You saw the signs from the beginning, you weren’t stupid in the least, and yet you let yourself fall hard. And here you were, likely on the other end of it, feeling like shit.

When you heard Emily collecting her stuff to leave, you spoke, not even sitting up on the couch.

“Was I just a quick fuck to you?” you croaked with as much venom in your voice as you could muster.

You heard her footsteps hesitate but no answer.

“Was I just something to play with?” you continued, voice cracking, sitting up to look your heartbreak in the eyes.

You hesitated. She looked sad. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, her lips pressed together tightly, and she seemed just as sad as you.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?”

Silence filled the room.

“I can’t do this. Not the way you want. I’m not--” she cut herself off, casting her eyes to the ground.

“I don’t want anything more than presence! You’re never with me when you’re with me, Emily, your mind is somewhere else entirely! I just want to know what to expect from you, goddammit!” you raised your voice, tears spilling silently down your cheeks.

“Bye,” she whispered. “I’ll call.”

“Sure,” you scoffed and just like that, she was gone, the echoing of your door shutting echoing infinitely through the apartment, the only sound accompanying it being your sniffles.

You didn’t leave the couch that night and woke to tear-stained cushions.

-

It had been 3 weeks since Emily walked out of your apartment. Your friends begged you to go out, loosen up, have some fun, but you wanted nothing more than to stay at home and wallow in self-pity.

But you went out anyways, and there you stood, sipping at an overpriced and overwatered cocktail, your friends having long abandoned you.

When you saw her from halfway across the room, it felt like the first night. She had her head thrown back in laughter and she was surrounded by what you assumed were colleagues (you recognized the blondes). The red light hit her face perfectly and you choked on air when you saw she was wearing the same dress as the night you met.

Fuck, you had to get out of here. You couldn’t leave with her, you could not fall into the cycle again.

Then your eyes met and the breath fell from your body. Her expression softened, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly at the sight of you. She hesitated mid-sentence, it seemed, because the tall blonde across from her whipped her head around to look for the cause of Emily’s distraction. Her eyes landed on you, confused.

It was all you could take to not run screaming from the table. You wrestled your way through the crowd, unfortunately having to go closer to Emily in order to leave. You almost made it past her table when you heard a low voice say, “Do you know her?”

Your head whipped up to see Emily hanging off the arm of a man. Her hand clutched harshly at his bicep, the ring on her forefinger staring you down violently. Your stomach lurched.

Oh.

She didn’t take her eyes off him, all the respect and caring in the world but absolutely no love pouring through her gaze. She didn’t take her eyes off him and you suspected it was for the same reason you couldn’t take her eyes off her. She knew her eyes would be drawn to you.

“Never seen her in my life,” Emily responded tightly.

She ripped her gaze from him and her eyes met yours. You couldn’t even bring yourself to give her away. You could exact all the revenge you could ever want on her in that moment, but you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t hurt her the way she hurt you.

You practically ran from the bar, eyes filled with tears threatening to spill over, elbowing people out of the way.

The cool night air nipped at your bare skin as tears poured down your face and a Rex Orange County song played tauntingly in the background.

Lovin’ is easy, you have me fucked up

You let out a sob as the heartbreak hit full force.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

do you think zuko treated mai fairly? i mean... why didn't he trust her to tell her his deepest thoughts when he abandoned her in the fire nation? i know he loved her but i don't understand why he didn't just tell her instead of hurting her unnecessarily. they're cute but i find it so hard to get past this, i would be so hurt if my bf didn't tell me something so important. and then mai just. forgives zuko so easily even after he locked her in a cell still not trusting her. mai deserves better :(

It’s kind of funny you ask this, because I lowkey have a lot of feelings about the phrase “x deserved better than y”. For one, I’m always cautious around it, because in the A:TLA fandom I’ve seen it thrown around in two main ways:

“Katara deserved better than Aang!” followed by the most ridiculous slander labelling Aang as abusive, toxic, manipulative, etc. (Funnily enough, though, a lot of those people will also go and ship T.aang. Like T.aang is an Excellent ship, do not get me wrong, but it’s clear they just say ‘Katara deserved better’ because they hate K.ataang and don’t necessarily care one way or the other about Aang.)

“Zuko deserved better than Mai!” followed by the most obnoxious bullshit also labelling Mai as abusive, toxic, manipulative, etc. and even - I kid you not - saying she’s “too ugly” for Zuko. At worst, racist; at best, shallow. (And again, funnily enough, a lot of them will then ship M.ailee, again proving they don’t really care one way or another about Mai, they just hate M.aiko.)

Now, I’m not getting into the K.ataang vs Z.utara vs M.aiko ship wars, lmao, but those are the two primary ways that rhetoric is used. It’s kind of embarrassing, tbh, how fandom tends to use the phrase to discredit pairings and demonize characters instead of… you know. Moving on with their lives, lol.

But your ask fascinates me, anon, because you bring up the point of Zuko not trusting Mai, thus leading to the conclusion of “Mai deserves better than Zuko.” Which is interesting, because as I just mentioned, for most people who follow the “x deserves better than y” phrase, it tends to be used the other way around!

Firstly, however, I want to say that you don’t have to ship Maiko. You can read my explanation and walk away still feeling exactly the same way about Mai and Zuko’s relationship (love it, hate it, indifferent to it, all that jazz), and that’s totally okay! But I’m going to do my best to explain what’s off with the rhetoric of “x deserves better than y,” specifically regarding Maiko. My thesis, as it were?

It’s not about “deserve.”

Disclaimer: This obviously does not refer to genuinely unhealthy/abusive relationships. I shouldn’t have to say that, but we all know how Tumblr is. I digress.

Love isn’t about “deserve.” At first glance, that’s kind of a confusing take, isn’t it? Don’t we all “deserve” someone who will respect us, appreciate us, and treat us well? Of course we do! But those are just qualities of any healthy relationship. When I say that love isn’t about “deserve,” I mean that love can’t be simplified quite so easily. Here is a definition of “deserve”:

“do something or have or show qualities worthy of (reward or punishment)”

How do we make ourselves “worthy” of love? I (an optimist) don’t think we do. Love isn’t about worthiness; I believe we are all “worthy” of love simply by existing. Instead, I argue that love is about openness. It’s not about if we “deserve” love or not, but rather if we allow ourselves to be open to it.

All of this is to say that it’s not about whether or not Mai “deserves” or “deserves better than” Zuko; it’s that she is open to receive love from him, and he from her. She wants to love and be loved by Zuko. No one else. She says it to Azula herself: “I love Zuko more than I fear you.” Mai chooses Zuko, full stop, just as Zuko chose her by a) doing everything in his power to keep her out of his betrayal of the Fire Nation (why would he risk putting a death sentence on her head, too?) and b) reuniting with her happily at the end of the show (i.e. he didn’t brush her off; he smiles his widest smile in the entire show during that scene!). So it’s not about “deserve.” It’s about these two kids loving and finding love in one another. A Shakespeare quote is particularly relevant here:

“Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.” (Twelfth Night – Act 3, Scene 1)

We are all looking for love, be it romantic or platonic or anything in-between, and there is no better feeling than we receive love even when we feel we don’t “deserve” it. Mai is willing to work with Zuko to make their relationship work despite his mistakes, because it’s not about if he “deserves” her, but because she knows he is willing to grow and improve (and she is, too).

Also, within the series of A:TLA (specifically towards the middle-end of Book 3), it can be concluded that Zuko believes that he is no longer “worthy” of Mai’s love. That he doesn’t “deserve” her love because of how he abandoned her (and she is the only thing about the Fire Nation he regrets leaving behind). Mai disagrees with him. She is open to a relationship with Zuko because she loves him for an infinite number of reasons (one being that he does what is right, including going against the Fire Nation, even if she did not at first understand). When Zuko realizes this by the time the finale comes around, they reconcile in a tender embrace.

And what reason are we ever given to doubt Mai regarding whether or not she “deserves” better than Zuko? Mai is perfectly aware of her own worth. She breaks up with Zuko in “The Beach” because his behavior is inexcusable and she knows that she doesn’t have to put up with it. Even in the comics, which are handled poorly, I don’t entirely hate the Maiko breakup because again, Mai knows that she does not have to be responsible for Zuko’s well-being. She loves him, she loves him so much, and she tries to help him, but she is not his therapist. So again, why should we doubt Mai? Going back to the A:TLA finale - Mai knows what she “deserves” and what she doesn’t. She knows what she will and what she won’t put up with. And after everything, she is still open to a relationship with Zuko. Because love isn’t about “deserve,” and it never has been.

To address your other questions:

why didn’t he trust her to tell her his deepest thoughts when he abandoned her in the fire nation? i know he loved her but i don’t understand why he didn’t just tell her instead of hurting her unnecessarily.

You almost answer your question yourself, anon. “[H]is deepest thoughts”? Who tells anyone their “deepest thoughts”? We actually talked about this in my Shakespeare class (I know, right? lmao). A very common trope in Shakespeare’s tragedies is a lack of communication. We all read Romeo and Juliet and Othello and were like “dude, if they had just talked to each other, none of those bad things would have happened!!” (and thus those tragedies might have been comedies).

My professor agreed with us. Then he asked, well, why do you think Shakespeare doesn’t have anyone communicate?

One brave soul said, “That’d be too easy.”

Which is… almost right. Perhaps, narratively, it would be too easy. The plays would definitely be resolved much faster. But the truth? It’s too hard. People don’t communicate clearly in real life. They hide certain things because they’re embarrassed, they’re ashamed, they’re afraid. Even couples who’ve been together for years will admit that they don’t tell each other everything, for whatever reason. People are imperfect, and thus their relationships are, too.

(Slightly amusing sidebar: Macbeth and Lady Macbeth are actually an example of a perfect couple, because Macbeth confides everything to Lady Macbeth in Act 1. And, well, we all know how that went down[hill], lmao.)

So why didn’t Zuko tell Mai the truth when he was leaving the Fire Nation? He was afraid! He says it himself in “The Boiling Rock”: “Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I’m a traitor. I couldn’t drag her into it.” Zuko is afraid of what might happen to Mai! He knows the Fire Nation now has a price on his head - why would he wish that on Mai? It’s bad enough that she’s the (former) girlfriend of a traitor! How much worse might it have been for her if she’d been associated with him after he’d threatened the Fire Lord’s life*? I’m not saying this to excuse Zuko’s decision, because perhaps Mai would have agreed to join him (although we cannot conclude this with total certainty), and I certainly think breaking up by text letter was a pretty crappy way to go about it, but all the same, he was trying to protect her. When Mai realizes this, what does she do?

Saves his ass from Azula and utters one of the most iconic lines in the entire series.

*Also, a kind of interesting parallel presents itself between Zuko and Hamlet here, lmao. One interpretation of Hamlet’s “get thee to a nunnery!” scene with Ophelia is reading it as him trying to cut ties with her in the cruelest way possible so she wouldn’t try to follow him and possibly get hurt as he killed Claudius (aka regicide, the highest crime in Denmark). While it’s arguable that Zuko isn’t quite so perceptive, lmao, there is the possibility that Zuko thought breaking up with Mai in such a callous way would help prevent her from remaining attached to him and thus getting mixed up in his mess (killing the Fire Lord, aka the A:TLA equivalent of regicide, the highest crime in the Fire Nation). Just something to ponder!

and then mai just. forgives zuko so easily even after he locked her in a cell still not trusting her.

I don’t know if I’d call her forgiveness “easy.” Making the decision to betray Azula? That’s hard. Mai was signing herself up for a death sentence, because Azula doesn’t take prisoners (Aang can testify to this, lmao). If Ty Lee hadn’t been there, Mai almost certainly would have died. So yeah. I wouldn’t call her forgiveness “easy,” anon. I think it’s one of the scariest choices she ever made.

Of course, one can argue that Mai’s true forgiveness of Zuko actually came later, which I don’t necessarily disagree with. I think Mai’s initial instinct was to trust Zuko because she knows him better than perhaps anyone (thus she realizes he wouldn’t walk away from the Fire Nation without true cause), hence her betrayal of Azula. When she survived because of Ty Lee’s chi-blocking (since honestly, Mai probably didn’t think she’d get that far) and was ultimately imprisoned, I bet she had plenty of time to think about Zuko and her relationship with him. Working on that presumption, again, I don’t think I’d call her forgiveness “easy,” because she likely took several days if not weeks to process everything.

Also, you say Zuko doesn’t trust her because a) he didn’t inform her of what he was doing when he left the Fire Nation and b) he locked her in a cell at the Boiling Rock. I understand that perspective, but again, I go back to this line: “Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I’m a traitor. I couldn’t drag her into it.” Does that sound like someone who doesn’t trust Mai? I think the better description is that Zuko feared for Mai, as I mentioned earlier. Did he lock her in a cell because he thought she’d betray him, or because he thought it was the last thing he could do to protect her when everything went to shit as he, Sokka, Suki, and etc. were all escaping from prison? Could it have been a little bit of both? We can’t say for sure, of course, but given how happy Zuko was around Mai in “Nightmares and Daydreams,” I think his love for her ultimately outweighed his worries about Mai’s ties to Azula, which leads me to conclude his locking her in a cell was less about distrust and more a final, last-ditch attempt at keeping her out of his mess.

Plus, Zuko has issues. Mai knows this. She loves him all the same for it. As I said earlier, she is open to giving love to and receiving love from Zuko. I think it’s a bit of a discredit to Mai’s character to assume she forgave him easily. And besides! She told him herself: “But don’t ever break up with me again.” Mai implicitly tells him hey, don’t pull that BS again, and Zuko gives her an embarrassed smile before they hold each other in a gentle, loving embrace. It’s not a direct statement, and maybe that puts some people off from it, but Mai is firmly implying that she wants him to trust her more, and Zuko acknowledges this (and he’s rightfully a little embarrassed that he kept her out of it, since hindsight is 20/20 and he now understands she probably would have gone with him; do remember, of course, that he had no way of knowing that initially).

do you think zuko treated mai fairly?

Well, how do we define “fairly”? I guess the short answer is no, he didn’t, but what other choice did he believe he had at the time? Answer: none. It was either keep Mai out of it and guarantee her safety or drag Mai into it (which Zuko likely saw as a selfish option, i.e. what right did he have to pull his girlfriend into treason just because he didn’t want to lose her company?) and risk losing her. As viewers, we know there’s more to the situation than that, but Zuko doesn’t have our luxury. So his decision to keep Mai out of it and thus try to protect her? I would call that a “fair” assessment, yes.

And besides, anon:

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” (A Midsummer Night’s Dream - Act 1, Scene 1)

Mai and Zuko chose each other. Who are we to deny them their happiness?

[multimilfs]

Lilith Clawthorne x Fem!Reader: Lessons Learned

Summary: thewriting-dragon requested “More Buff Bimbo Reader X Lilith Clawthorne, but like maybe with a touch of angst? Or even better Buff Bimbo Reader after Lilith splits the curse.” 

A/N: I think I took a different approach to this than you intended tbh. You said some angst and I sprinted with it, but I hope that you like it! 

Warning(s): None 

In the Boiling Isles, there is a very strict hierarchy. A ranking of importance that goes down the line. Emperor, Emperor's advisor, and so on. Lilith Clawthorne is the third most important person in the Boiling Isles.

Being so important was something she’d craved from a young age. The idea of being in charge of her life, for once. But power isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. It comes with rules. A lot of them.

The expectations befalling someone so important could lead to a lot of different behaviors. Stress, narcissism, and most obvious, anger. Anger at the slightest imperfection or missing piece. That not everything was fitting perfectly into their master plan.

“Honey, are you ready?”

You peeked into the room where Lilith was readying herself for tonight’s event, stopping to admire her. She was a sight to behold. Glimmering baby blue dress, white heels, and white jewels adorning her body. It took your breath away.

“Wow… You look beautiful.” You sighed out dreamily.

Lilith gave you a small smile, though notably much smaller than normal. Then she looked you up and down with a frown on her face.

“Darling, is that what you’re wearing?” She asked.

Confused, you looked down at your outfit. It was a three piece white suit that you believed was rather dapper. Not to mention it was comfortable. You didn’t understand why she was asking.

“Of course, this is my favorite suit. Why?”

“You wore it last time we went to this event.”

“Okay… Is that supposed to be a problem? It’s stylish and I like the way it looks on me.”

“Being seen in the same thing twice is a taboo. I thought I would have taught you that by now,” Lilith sighed, before waving her hand and changing the color to the same blue as her hair. The cut of the suit was also altered ever so slightly, “There! Now you look perfect.”

A low, icky feeling panged at your gut. You hated wearing this color and the altered cut of the suit made you feel uncomfortable. It drew attention to certain areas of your body you didn’t want people to focus on. But you reminded yourself that it was for Lilith, so you could accept it for the night.

That was the mantra you repeated throughout the night; You were doing it for Lilith. When you bit your tongue in conversation so she could talk, when you didn’t eat anything off of the refreshment table because it was apparently ‘just there to look nice.’ It was hard to do, but you did it. You squashed yourself into a perfect little mold for the higher-ups of the Boiling Isles.

At the end of the event, there was said to be a big show. It’d been the one piece of information keeping you grounded all night. Emperor Belos was going to give a show to remember. The start of a new tradition.

But when you heard the sound of distressed squawking from behind the curtain, you felt your heart drop. Then the curtains opened.

Standing there was Emperor Belos. A fire whip in hand, across from a young Lion Phoenix. It was cowering back from him. Growling and hissing, feathers raised. You looked anxiously to Lilith, but she was purposefully avoiding your gaze.

“Distinguished guests,” Belos began, “Tonight I will perform a feat never attempted before. I will tame the wild Lion Phoenix, as a show of what the Boiling Isles is truly capable of!”

Everyone around you clapped. This felt like your own personal hell, having to watch people enjoy the torture that this creature would endure. For the sake of a show. For power.

“Lilith, stop him.” You whispered.

“I can’t do that.” She flinched away from the suggestion, looking at you like you had two heads.

There was a lilt in her voice that you didn’t like. The same one when she’d accidentally shrunk your uniform or eaten your leftovers. Guilt.

She knew.

You moved away from her, even as she tried to reach for you. To keep you close or stop you from making a scene, it didn’t matter, you were on a mission. There were many instances where you could hold your tongue. This was not one of them.

Belos raised the whip above his head, intent on bringing it down over the creature. You sent a burst of magic before he could. It knocked the item out of his hand. Everyone in the room looked at you in outrage.

“Have you no regard for life?” You hissed at the Emperor.

“It’s a harmless show, Miss Y/N.” He explained.

“Harmless to everyone except this creature. It’s cruel and uncalled for.” You said.

“Emperor Belos, I’m so sorry-”

Lilith tried to jump in to defend you, to calm the situation down. But you leveled her with a hard glare. She stepped back slightly. You didn’t need, or want, anyone to apologize for you.

“End this show or I will.” You threatened.

The temperature in the room dropped as Belos stopped laughing. Such a change made you feel uneasy, but you refused to back down. Not now. Not on something so important.

“Fine.”

He threw his hand out in the direction of the Lion Phoenix, which let out a shriek of fear. Unthinking, you threw yourself between them. Lilith screamed your name before it all ended suddenly. Replaced by the sound of rustling leaves and chirping.

Looking around, you realized you were outside now. In the gardens of the Emperor’s Castle. The Lion Phoenix currently cuddling up to you had teleported you away from the scene. It surprised you, since that was typically a skill for the older creatures. It seemed this one learned quickly.

“Thank you,” You said gratefully, making them purr, “You’re so precious, I’m sorry you got mixed up with such a horrible crowd.”

The large creature didn’t react, other than to paw at your hand, sitting down expectantly. A piece of dinner was still held in your hand. You wasted no time in giving it to them.

“You need a name. How about… Ivy?”

On the creature’s side were prominent veins, almost looking like ivy plants that grew up and around her legs and torso. She gave an indifferent squawk.

“What do you say we blow this joint?” You offered.

Ivy narrowed her eyes at you before giving you a noise of agreement. That was all you needed.

Upon arriving back at your home, you made up a space for the large creature. You imagined that she was going to be with you for a while. At least, you hoped so. She was very sweet and mild mannered.

About two hours had passed before you heard the door open, almost frantically. You winced. Though you were still rightfully upset.

“Oh thank the Titan, you’re alive!” Lilith said upon seeing you, before freezing as Ivy began to growl at her.

“It’s okay,” You soothed, before looking at the other woman, “And yes, I am.”

Lilith knew she’d messed up. The way you weren’t speaking like normal, you didn’t smile in her direction, all of it. She let out a sigh.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” She said.

“Sorry doesn’t feel like enough right now, Lil.” You said softly, focusing intently on Ivy’s fur, “You really hurt me. First you made me act like someone I wasn’t all night and then you didn’t defend me when I asked for your help. I’m not always the smartest, but the one thing I know is who I am. That won’t change. Not even for you.”

Lilith’s stomach dropped. She’d been so caught up in the stress of it all, that she failed to realize how her actions wounded you. How she’d unintentionally been attempting to change who you were. Just so she could impress some stupid Boiling Isles elite.

“You’re right. I take full responsibility for how I acted tonight. How can I make it up to you?” Lilith said softly.

“You… You get to take care of Ivy for two weeks. Or until you’ve earned her forgiveness. Once you’ve earned hers, you’ll earn mine.”

Your girlfriend’s eyes widened as she looked at the creature. Narrowed eyes glared back at her. This was not going to be easy. But still, she steeled herself and accepted your terms.

How bad could two weeks possibly be?

———

Bad. Very bad.

Lilith replaced nearly all of her dresses and even had to get a haircut. Ivy refused to make the two weeks easy. She singed, clawed, and even ripped up whatever of Lilith’s she could find. The hair was an accident.

You conveniently remained neutral. This was Lilith’s punishment, it did nothing if you told her what to do. So you watched from the sidelines, only intending to jump in if it became dangerous for either party.

Luckily, it never got to such a point. And you were happy to see Lilith and Ivy growing closer. The latter even went so far as to cuddle up to Lilith near the end, which the witch was happy about.

“So, did you learn from this experience?” You asked her that night, looking at her curiously.

“Yes.” She sighed.

“Oh come on, you love her. I know you do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not!” Lilith protested.

“Yeah? Then why did I see you giving her tummy rubs for ten minutes this morning, hm?” You asked.

She avoided your eyes, knowing she’d been caught. Against her better judgement she’d become attached to Ivy.

“I… tolerate her. At best.” She said finally.

“Whatever you say, honey.”

The two of you cuddled up together, smiles on your faces. Content to finally be on good terms once again. Ivy decided to join the moment too, which Lilith allowed, though she pretended to hate it.

The real kicker? Lilith’s outfits hadn’t been the only ones to face the wrath of Ivy’s teeth. You just hadn’t found out yet. All par for the course though… Right?

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Times Two

Your husband is cloned by a quirk and you just so happen to love that. So what do you do? The only thing that makes sense, of course. 

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Sex (anal and vaginal), DP, foreplay, blowjob, throat fucking, vulgar phrases and words Words:   4681 Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki (x2) x Fem! Reader

a/n: I’m sorry if it’s a bit confusing to tell the difference between clone and real Bakugou. I have it set up like Bakugou = Real. Katsuki = Clone. The reader specifies it as well to try and clear some stuff up. But yeah, this is the naughtiest thing I’ve written in a while and I took some risks, hopefully it works out and y’all enjoy it! Don’t forget to read past the “Read More”! 

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Edit: I forgot to add the anon that requested and inspired this lovely idea, I’m sorry! Thank you so much for sending this in! (⋟﹏⋞)

Being married to the explosive Bakugou Katsuki, there is very little that surprises you. That man, as hot headed and rough around the edges as he could be, was always surprising you in one way or another in the forms of sentimental gestures and words that no other person alive was ever meant to hear. Along with being married to him, you were more involved in the life of pro heros than you ever really expected to be, as in his late twenties, he was very quickly becoming a prominent name and popular icon. A new quirk or odd behavior was always expressed to you by him when he arrived home, as he always had something new to rant about. But this… this was not something that you were familiar with. The fact that you were staring at two sets of glaring crimson eyes made you almost feel faint, tempted to shut the door and reopen it just to make sure you weren't hallucinating. 

“Katsuki…” You stared up at the one you assumed to be the original, as he was dressed in the clothes he had left in that morning, while the other was in some outfit you had never seen before. “Why… What- I mean… There are two of you.” You gestured from one to the other and back again with an accusatory pointed finger, gaining an annoyed and almost simultaneous click of the tongue from both blondes before you. 

“No shit.” The original barked in an annoyed huff, placing a rough hand on your arm to urge you out of the way so they could enter. You followed direction, watching them shuffle in through the door before shutting and locking it into place. 

“How are there two of you? Why are there two of you? Which is the real one?” 

“I am!” With a point to his own face, Bakugou glowered down at you, the familiar snarl and wedding ring on his finger calming your initial fears. The other Bakugou, who stood awkwardly off to the side, wasn’t wearing a ring and he also gave off a different… energy to the original. It was obvious that he was confused and out of place, though he glanced around at both the environment and at you with a sense of familiarity. Before you could really even say anything else, your husband snatched you by the arm and dragged you off to a different room, making you stumble over your feet for a second before catching your footing. 

“No need to drag me around Katsuki—” 

Bakugou brought a finger to his lips, hushing you with an urgency that spiked a bit of annoyance in you. All you knew at this point was that he had better start explaining himself quickly before you got frustrated, and the look on your face must have told him that as he began to spill his guts to you. 

“Sorry. Look, while I was out at a call, a villain touched me and used their quirk on me to try and catch me off guard. It didn’t work, but it did make him. He is literally me, down to memories and feelings. We have to get rid of him!” 

A frown crossed your lips as you glanced out of the doorway, seeing the clone wander about while looking at pictures along the wall. “He’s… not having like a crisis or something? I’m surprised he’s not upset.” 

Bakugou shook his head, letting his hands fall down your arms to tenderly hold your hands. “After the villain was caught, she explained her quirk… They may be exactly like me, but they won’t ever realize they’re going to fuck off when they fall asleep. Fuck off as in… turn into a doll. And even though he has all my memories and shit he’s… very compliant.” 

“Hm… When he falls asleep he’s gonna turn into a doll? Why don’t we just let him hang around until night time, and he’ll go to sleep. I don’t want you to attack him and knock him out or anything… That’s so mean.” You squeezed his fingers as you tried to have him understand your point of view. “If he’s literally you, then he probably feels really comfortable here. What a shame for his final moments of existence to be fear or pain.” 

Bakugou glowered down at you, obviously annoyed with your empathy. “So what, you want to invite him to have dinner and watch TV with us and share our bed?” 

“It’s technically his bed, too. He’s you.” You gave a very nonchalant shrug, ignoring the frustrated furrow of your lovers brow. “I don’t want you to hurt him. We should make his only day alive something enjoyable. Let’s go talk to him.” 

“Babe—” Bakugou sighed as you walked away from him, towards the clone that instantly peered down at you curiously. He seemed genuinely happy at the smile on your face, and though you could tell he wanted to, he was reluctant to touch you. Fiddling with your nails as you came to stand in front of him, you gave a small cough to clear your throat, glancing back at the real Bakugou as he glared at you from his spot learning against the doorframe. 

“So, uhm…” You began, turning your attention to the Bakugou in front of you. “Things can get a little confusing I think, so… How about I call you Katsuki, and him Bakugou.” As you addressed them, you gestured to them, feeling your cheeks flush a bit at how ridiculous you sounded. “I’m used to calling him Katsuki, but it’ll be okay for now. I’ll try not to get you mixed up. Deal?” You glanced back again at Bakugou who merely shrugged in an ‘I don’t give a fuck’ manner, while Katsuki in front of you gave a calm nod. 

“Sure, [Name]. I, oh fuck, sorry—” Having unconsiciously placed his hand on your arm, Katsuki quickly pulled it away as you gave a small flinch in surprise. With this, you saw a flash of confusion and defeat across his face, as if he hadn’t been expecting you to do that. Well, of course he hadn’t. To him, you were his lover, his wife and you loved each other fiercely. Physical touch was important between you and Bakugou, and so you knew that it was just as important to Katsuki. Still, you felt conflicted yourself. You could feel the tension from behind you, fuming off of your husband like it was a tangible object. A clone of himself or not, you knew that he wasn’t going to just let another man touch you.

Deciding to change the subject, you motioned towards the bedroom with a small nod of your head, prompting Katsuki to follow you. “Come on. How about you both get comfortable and we can, uhm… Make dinner, I guess.” 

Bakugou pushed himself up off the doorframe, entering the room before either of you. “I get my tank and shorts, got it?!” 

Katsuki scoffed, reaching behind him to pull his shirt up and over his head. “Whatever, I don’t give a fuck, I’m not going to fight with myself over clothes.” 

“Hey, hey, chill. Please.” You placed a hand on Bakugou’s arm to calm him, though by the click of his tongue you got in response, it didn’t work. “You have plenty of clothes to share. Just pick an outfit.” At this point, you already felt like you were babysitting, taking a step back as the two grown men bickered over what comfortable clothes the other wanted. Though, their huffing and puffing wasn’t really what was on your mind. Looking at them, both shirtless now, you felt a heat spread through your cheeks and down to your toes. You had two versions of your husband in your house, both of them who knew who you were and loved you equally. One was definitely in a better mood than the other, but that only made it better. 

You couldn’t stop the thoughts and visions flashing through your mind of both men pleasuring you from all sides, one fucking you from behind while the other made you gag on his cock. They were identical, down to the scars and minute imperfections on their skin. You couldn’t resist the sinful thoughts, especially as they continued stripping and changing. The instant Katsuki’s gaze landed on you, catching you staring, you took in a breath and shuffled away, mumbling something about having to go to the restroom. Shutting the door a bit too loudly, you leaned against it, placing a hand on your chest as you tried to calm your heavy breathing and racing heart. 

You almost lost it there, [Name]. You gotta calm down, there’s no way the original is gonna fall for a threesome. But this is a once in a lifetime thing! To be fucked by double Katsuki’s… What a dream— 

There was a sudden rough knock on the door, startling you so badly that you almost screamed out loud. Heart now racing even worse, you took a few deep breaths, opening the door to peek out. You could instantly see that it was Bakugou, his wedding ring gleaming against the light as his hand came to rest on the door. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, babe?” 

Opening up the door just a bit more, you allowed him to stand halfway inside so you could whisper to each other. You kept yourself close to him, tenderly caressing his upper arm as you let out a trembling breath. “I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just… This is a lot to take in all the sudden in a… different way.” 

“Different way?” With a cocked eyebrow, he glanced over your body, noticing the timid stance and erect nipples behind the thin cloth of your t-shirt. Your flushed face and pounding heartbeat were dead giveaways as well, though instead of his usual smirk at realizing your current state, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Are you horny?!” 

“Shh!” You reached up and covered his mouth, standing on your tiptoes to look out and make sure you weren’t being listened to. “Don’t say it so loud.” 

“So you are.” Bakugou continued when you removed your hand, giving a small shrug. “Well let me in there, we’ll fuck real quick and get to— ah, wait!” Now, he shoved himself the rest of the way inside, shutting the door behind him. In the same moment, he pressed you up against it, forcing a gasp from your lips as his leg wedged firmly into place between yours. He liked to do this, pin you up against whatever solid surface he could and tease the hell out of you, until you were writhing and begging for him to fuck you. Though, this was a bit different, as his glare showed little signs of the typical lust you were familiar with seeing. 

“You little slut. You want to fuck both of us, don’t you?” With your hard swallow and guilty gaze, a smirk finally crossed his lips, gripping your chin to force you to look up at him. “I should've known you were going to be like that. You’re so obsessed with the way I fuck you, there’s no way you wouldn’t want it from two of me. What were you thinking, hm? A cock in your ass and your cunt?” His hand began to travel down your body, teasing you with just a hit of that rough touch you craved. “Like hell I’m going to share you with anyone, not even a version of myself.” 

“Why not, Katsuki?” Your eyes darted from his face down his his hips, able to see his erect member pressing against the fabric of his sweatpants. “It would be fun. And so sexy… imagine me, kneeling on the floor, face covered in your cum. Letting you take turns fucking my throat.” Clutching onto his shirt tightly with one hand, you let the other slip between your bodies, slowly and firmly palming his member through the fabric of his bottoms. “You’re already rock hard thinking about it.” 

“You think you could handle it?” Bakugou pressed his leg further up between yours to press against your sex, prompting you to eagerly grind your hips. “I leave you ruined just on my own. I don’t think you’d be able to take it. You’d be begging for mercy.” 

“You underestimate me, love. The only thing I’d be begging for is more.” You tugged him in closer, catching his lips in a heated kiss. In that same second, you were in his arms, pressed up against the door. Keeping yourself latched to him with your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, you sighed softly at the feeling of his member pressing into your sex, wishing despirately to feel him inside you. While one arm kept you firmly in position, the other hand was free to roam, his rough and calloused palm sliding up your bare thigh. His touch was like fire, telling you just how seriously turned on he was, too. Just maybe you could get him to agree… after letting him have a little fun on his own first. 

“Please,” you moaned breathlessly into the kiss, reaching down between your bodies to slip his manhood free from his clothes. “I need to feel you inside me. Right now.” As you moved your poor excuse for pajama shorts and underwear side, Bakugou complied, shifting your body just enough to slip himself inside you. You felt every inch of your body tingle in excitement and pleasure, your heart racing at the sound of his groan against your cheek. He may have teased you about being obsessed with the way he made love to you, but you knew that he was just as addicted. Even though he put on a tough show, you could easily make him do whatever you begged for, like he was wrapped around your little finger. A simple touch or glance could have him immediately wanting you, and now that you had him this far, you knew that you could weasel your way into adding another cock to the party. 

You didn’t have much time to contemplate exactly how you would pull that off, distracted as he began to thrust his hips, fucking you at a rough and hard pace that made the wooden door at your back sqeak and rattle with each movement. Every inch of him vanished within your depths with each stroke, fogging your mind to everything but the irresistible pleasure. You were so engrossed, in fact, that you didn’t hear footsteps approaching the door from the other side, only able to focus on Bakugou’s lips and teeth against your skin. 

Suddenly, you felt an emptiness at your back and a wash of cold air swallow you both as the door to the restroom was swung open rapidly. With a squeal from your lips and a sharp inhale from Bakugou, you began to tumble backwards at the loss of support. Though, just as soon as it had gone, it was back again, though the presence that you found your back against was more familiar and warm than the cold wooden door. You were now pressed against Katsuki’s chest, his hands gripping onto your upper arms tightly to support the weight of both of you. 

“Hey, what the fuck?!” Bakugou barked at his mirror image, glaring at Katsuki over the top of your head. “Get that smirk off your face asshole, who the fuck invited you?!” 

“[Name] did. You think I didn’t hear you two talking in there or could tell what she was thinking?” Katsuki’s hands slid under your arms, gripping and squeezing your breasts roughly. You couldn’t resist a soft gasp, the mutual feeling of Bakugou inside you and now Katsuki’s hands on you making your head swim. “I saw her staring at us. Just like you, I know exactly what she wanted. And you weren’t exactly subtle, fucking against the door like that. It’s like you wanted me to notice.” 

Trembling, you clutched onto Bakugou’s shoulders tightly, lightly rocking your hips to move him within you. “You two stop fighting and just fuck me already!” 

Bakugou complied without a moment's hesitation, using Katsuki’s leverage to keep you stable. Your voice squeaked out in pleasure as you laid your head back, catching Katsuki’s gaze. The lust in his crimson glare was so clear, feeling a heat rush to your face as he smirked against your cheek, one hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “That’s it, babe,” He hissed in your ear, making your heart flutter violently. His other hand left your breast and vanished elsewhere for a moment, and you could only hope that he was preparing himself for what you wanted most. “You’re such a naughty little bitch. Tell me what you want.” 

As Katsuki’s lips came to hover near yours, you could feel it, the hard presence of his cock against your ass as it bounced with Bakugou’s thrusts. The fire inside you began to swell, unable to tear your eyes away from your lovers clone and his hypnotizing crimson glare. “I-I want you both! I want your cock in my ass— ah!” Your voice squeaked as Bakugou increased his speed and roughness, pulling your attention to him.

“Beg harder, babygirl. Beg like the cock hungry slut you are!” 

You knew exactly how he wanted you to talk, how filthy he wanted you to be, and it wasn’t something you were going to resist. “P-please, fuck me in my cunt and my ass! Fill me up and use me!” 

Again, your pathetic excuse for clothing was moved aside, with Bakugou pausing just long enough to let Katsuki sink his length into your ass. You and Bakugou were no strangers to anal sex, so it wasn’t as if that was what shocked you. No, it was the feeling being completely full, not a single inch of you untouched. There was new pleasures you had never felt before, the heat inside you almost unbearable, and yet, you loved it. Pressed between these two men, who were alike in every sense of the word, cocooned you in warmth, bringing an odd sense of sleepiness to your mind. That is, until they began to move, very quickly finding a rhythm. They didn’t alternate like you expected. Instead, they matched each others pace, making you melt into puddy in their hands. 

Trapped in their arms, you couldn’t move, only able to anchor yourself to something with your hands, which clutched onto Bakugou’s shirt and shoulders. Just from the look on his face, you could tell that it felt different for him as well, though in what way you couldn’t really imagine. All you cared about was the fact that he was enjoying it, and so was Katsuki from the groans and soft curses you heard near your ear. Within no time, you could feel it, the pleasure building into a ball in your core, until it exploded in a rush of moans, trembling and uncontrollable jerks of your body. 

“Oh fuck, babygirl, that’s it,” Katsuki purred in your ear, both men having to stop from the pressure of your contracting walls. “You’re such a good girl.” Through your panting and soft gasps, Katsuki turned your head with a push of his thumb, catching your lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth instantly, forcing you into that submission that you loved and leaving you breathless. 

“She’s gotten off too easy,” Bakugou huffed, removing himself from inside you and leaving you aching for his return. “Put her ass on the bed.” 

Complying, Katsuki released your lips and removed himself from you as well, taking on the full weight of your body to walk you over to the bed. Dropping you onto the mattress, you bounced with the impact, gazing up at both men expectantly. Smirk on his lips, Bakugou removed his shirt, coming to stand at the side of the bed. Without questioning or waiting for instruction, you scooted your body closer, instantly taking his hard and throbbing cock into your mouth as you rolled over onto your stomach. Propping yourself up on your arms, you lovingly tended to his member, running your tongue along the underside and stroking him with that firm grip you knew he loved. With a pleasured sigh, Bakugou ran his fingers through your hair, stopping at the base of your head to apply pressure to keep you from going anywhere. 

Taking a curious glance up at his face, you could instantly tell why, his gaze following Katsuki as he climbed onto the bed behind you. Eager hands gripped your ass, squeezing and spreading you open, even though you still had your shorts and underwear on. “What a filthy little slut you are, drenched through your clothes like that.” A hard smack to your ass followed his words, making you squeak and unconsciously take Bakugou’s cock deeper into your mouth. After another rough slap, your clothes were pulled down, leaving you exposed to him. The chill of the room was short lived as he slipped his cock between your legs, urging you to squeeze them together before he began thrusting his hips. The way his cock stroked against your clit sent tingles across your skin, your moans muffled by the dick in your mouth. The more pleasure you received, the more you gave, turning Bakugou into his own panting and grunting mess. 

Eventually, with a tight grip of your hair, you knew what was about to happen. Removing your hands from him, you kept your mouth and head loose for him, allowing him to thrust his hips. He was going slow at first, like he usually did, soaking in the feeling of his tip pressing into the back of your throat. You could barely register the sounds coming from behind you, merely following direction as you were told to squeeze your thighs together tighter. 

Bakugou scoffed, glaring at his clone with a smug smirk on his lips. “What’s wrong, you fucker? About to cum already?” 

You gave a muffled squeal as Katsuki increase the roughness of his thrusts, feeling yourself about to peak again just from the stroking of your clit. “Whether you’re in or not, she’s going to be covered in cum by the time I’m done with her. I’ll cum as many times as I fucking feel like.” With a shuddering of your body as you came, you were given some reprieve from the cock in your mouth to breathe, fighting between coughing and moaning as you stroked Bakugou’s length in the meantime. As you were still cumming, you felt a hot release all over your legs, listening as Katsuki grunted with his own release. It coated your thighs and cunt, surprising you a bit with how much there seemed to be. With a heavy sigh, Katsuki took a moment to recover, spreading his cum across your pussy with his thumb. “What a pretty sight.” 

Before you could even think of a response, Bakugou forced his cock back into your mouth, fucking your throat at his own pace and roughness. You couldn’t even react to the sudden feeling of Katsuki’s cock sinking into your pussy, fucking you from behind at an equally rough pace. It was exactly as you had imagined, a mixture of pleasure and pain that had your eyes rolling back, once again completely at their mercy. Every inch of your body felt more sensitive than it ever had before, even your nipples as they scraped against the fabric of your shirt enough to add to the pleasure. 

“You want my cum all over your face, babygirl? Or do you want to swallow it?” Bakugou didn’t give you any chance to even answer, coming to his own conclusion just from the pleading furrow of your brow and tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You wanted to feel it on your skin, to have him dirty you up as his counterpart had. You wanted to feel the heat of his essence on you, to watch his face as he jacked off on your face. So, that is what you received, with Bakugou removing himself from your mouth at the last moments. He gave you just enough time to open your mouth wide, catching what little bit of his cum on your tongue that you could while your body rocked with Katsuki’s thrusts. 

Leaning his head back as he came, Bakugou’s smirk spread, watching your body for a moment before he gripped your chin, giving Katsuki a quick glance that told him to stop. The clone did so, slowly removing himself from within you before filling you back up again in slow and teasing thrusts. Using his thumb, Bakugou spread his cum across your cheek and to your lips, allowing you to lick and suck it off his fingers. 

“You like the taste of my cum, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” You answered breathlessly, staring up at him through blurry and teary vision. “I love it. I love your cum—” Your voice hitched as Katsuki removed himself from your pussy, sinking his cock instead into your ass as deep as it would go. Once done, he grabbed your arms and shifted your positions, laying down as he pulled your body back against his. Understanding, you kept your legs open and displayed, panting as you smiled up at Bakugou. 

“C’mon, love. I want you both to fuck me until you’ve had enough. I told you I could take it.” 

And so you did, for hours you were treated how you had wanted to be, subdued and ravaged until your limbs were sore and body was sticky with cum and sweat. Both men had plenty to give and were just as eager to pleasure you, giving you everything you had ever wanted out of the experience. When you finally had enough was in the shower, as Bakugou enjoyed using the strongest setting of the removable shower head on your clit while they both fucked you mercilessly. You were positive that you had never had such a powerful orgasm, even sure that your mind had gone black for a few seconds as you came, pressed between their bodies just like when you had started. 

Now cleaned and so worn out you couldn’t quite move your legs, Bakugou carried you to the bed once dried off, shoving the dirtied comforter off the bed to leave mostly clean sheets for you to lay on. As he sat you down, he softly moved some hair out of your face, kissing your lips sweetly. “How was that, you stupid girl? Got your fill?” 

Smiling, you shook your head, gaining a confused cock of his eyebrow. With a wave of your arm to call Katsuki over as well, you patted both sides of the bed. “I want double cuddles.” 

“At the same time?” Both men huffed in similar tones simultaneously, making you giggle. 

“Yes! C’mon, lay with me.” 

Giving each other annoyed glances, both of them crawled into bed on either side of you. While you stayed on your back, they both squeezed in close, with Bakugou’s face resting in your hair while Katsuki pressed his lips against your cheek, showering you in soft and gentle kisses. Your heart fluttered from the sweet affection of both men, feeling for the moment that you were the luckiest woman in the world. Even if it was just for the evening, having two living version of your husband there to love you was something that you would never forget. It was sad to lose one of them, which was the particularly more affectionate one at the moment, but at least you had given him an enjoyable existence. 

“I love you.” You spoke softly, already beginning to feel sleep pulling at your mind as you reached up to softly stroke both of their cheeks. 

“I love you, too.” Both spoke in unison, filling your last waking moment for the evening with a fluffy and warm sense of love that would carry you on into your dreams.  

[damnusillygoose]

Jerza fanfiction(Fluff)

Title: Some insecurities to overcome

summary: Erza has some insecurities. Can Jellal help her overcome them?

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Hiro sensei

'Mira, listen. I think I am overdoing it but I can't stop.'

'I know right? A woman cannot stop her raging heart inside a shop selling skincare products after all.'

'This is very addictive', Erza grimaced, looking down at the products in her hands, ranging from body lotions to SPF to cleansers to moisturizers. All sorts of products a woman can buy to pamper herself.

'You are finally paying attention to your skincare routine. I wonder who is that lucky man who triggered such a change in you, huh?', Mira smiled in a suggestive manner.

'wh-what makes you think I am doing this for a man?! I am doing it for myself you know-

'Yes, yes feminist, I know. In fact, we all know when you exactly started paying attention towards this department. Especially your hair. Stop trying to divert the topic, will you?

'….'

'Does he make you happy?'

Her eyebrows de-tangled themselves from her frown as her face softened at the mention of the man who held her heart within his. 'He does, Mira. He makes me really happy', she gushed in a barely audible whisper.

'I am going be the "best aunt" to your kids. Mhm, though Meredy could be a potential rival for this title', she rambled.

'M-Mira?! That's- You are going too fast! Slow down! It's been just six months to us, give us a break. I would…love to have a family with him in future but right now, it's too soon and I…. I would like to marry him before that', she stammered and covered her face with her hands, turning red at her confession.

Mira eyed her friend smugly, studying her reaction. Erza truly acted different when Jellal was involved. She would turn into the sweetest cinnamon roll around him. Not that she purposefully acted different in front of him.

Erza felt free when she talked to Jellal. She could act spoiled, flirty, bossy, whatever she wanted. She could act vulnerable in front of him because Jellal was her place of comfort. She could be herself within his arms, he was her childhood sweetheart after all.

'Yes, yes grow as a couple, bloom as a couple. Take your time. You guys don't have to rush anyways. Make up for the time you lost', Mira remarked.

Erza lowered her hands slowly, producing a shy smile. 'Yes, we are making up for the time we lost.'

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

Seriously though, skincare was such a hassle. It needs dedication and consistency. You have to be patient. You don't get results overnight. Jellal's face was super soft and absolutely blemish free, no dark spots whatsoever. He didn't even use any special product.

'Greens Erza, greens. Eat your greens. Plus, I don't go snacking on sweets in the middle of the night, you know.'

Erza pressed her lips together in defiance. Cutting out sugar redeemed results when someone is trying to achieve clear skin but that's something she couldn't accomplish, if she were to be honest. Leave it, I will try to compensate in other departments like quality sleep and exercise, she tried to convince herself.

She finished applying her hair mask and tied her hair into a secure bun. She reached for her tea tree scrub, took some of it in her hands and started rubbing it in circular motions on her face.

She rinsed it thoroughly after 2 minutes of exfoliating and entered the bathroom to prepare her bath.

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

Jellal entered the front gate of their little cottage which they bought just at the outskirts of Magnolia. The location had advantages of its own. They both enjoyed and appreciated scenic beauty away from the clanging energy of the city. They could wake up peacefully, hear the serene chirping of birds, as the soft morning rays would kiss their faces gently. After spending an entire decade fighting battles, they thoroughly appreciated the tranquillity provided amidst nature.

Plus, they could very well use some privacy from media houses because Erza and Jellal's relationship was a hot topic going around in the city. They could take long walks without being pestered by them, flirt and make out whenever they pleased, without the fear of being stalked by them. No one could invade their privacy. It was their personal heaven.

Their friends obviously knew about their location, they came to visit them often.

Team Natsu would often come by to annoy Erza but Jellal knew she loved when they visited and she loved picnics as well, so he tried to create an aesthetic arrangement by adorning the flower pots in their lawn with golden lit fairy lights, situated within the close vicinity of their seating layout. He would switch them on late in the evenings, as they all would watch the sun set while sipping tea, stargazing and laughing with each other. Sometimes, Gray would bring his music speakers and they all would dance and listen to some traditional songs together as the fairy lights embellished their surroundings. Jellal truly enjoyed their company, they were a fun bunch to hang out with.

Crime sorciere was no less. Jellal would often play cricket with them on Sundays and afterwards, they would laze around in his lawn, basking in the sun, as it was the closest place from their playing field.

Jellal would find Erza trying to engage herself with his team and serving them pastries. It would warm his heart immediately when he would see her making attempts to integrate with his people.

'Well, you try to spend time with my friends, I want to know yours as well.'

Not to forget the fact, Erza had taken upon herself to look after Meredy, just like she did for Wendy. She would also do her best to include her in girl's night out and slumber parties. The two of the most important women in Jellal's life became close pretty quickly.

He was grateful to have such an exceptional woman who tried to indulge herself with his life, entwining them together, just like they both were meant to be. He was lucky, he contemplated.

He had gone out to visit Meredy. She had recently rented a place in magnolia and Jellal went to check on her if she needed any assistance.

He closed the door behind him quietly and proceeded to place the groceries he bought in the kitchen. He treaded upstairs to their bedroom and found her sitting in front of her dressing table-applying some lotion on her face, her hair neatly wrapped in a towel.

'I am back.'

'Hey. Everything okay with Meredy?'

'Yes, she is ecstatic to have her own place'

'I see. That's good. I should visit her soon and inform her of some cheap shopping complexes, which offer quality clothing in Magnolia. I love to frequent those with Mira. A woman should have some tricks up in her sleeves.' She replied as a matter of fact.

'I am sure she would be grateful for that', he almost laughed. 'What are you doing?'

'Applying moisturizer'

He sat at the edge of their bed and observed her closely.

'What?', she asked

'Can I help you in drying your hair?'

The corners of her mouth raised on hearing his request. She closed her eyes relishing his adoration for her hair that he named himself.

'Please do', she said as she finished applying her lotion on her face.

They were always like this around each other - content and serene, just like two important halves of a single soul, reunited after treading a long and strenuous journey of self-actualisation. Erza took note of the fact how loved he made her feel even through his tiniest action. Like how he was helping her dry her hair right now.

Jellal, unaware of her musing, took hold of her towel and carefully unwrapped it. Her hair was damp but not dripping wet. He divided them in two partitions and gently started squeezing the excess water out with immense concentration and meticulosity. He repeated the process with the other section as well until he was satisfied with his job. He kept the damp towel aside and ran his hand through the soft and glossy texture of her locks reverently.

Erza felt the tension residing her shoulder muscles leave when she felt his expert hands massage her the nape of her neck firmly. He moved his fingers, tracing her collarbone, bringing her against his chest gently.

'Erza, please remember that you are beautiful. Blemish free or not.' He reminded her, whispering gently in her ears before kissing her cheek lovingly. He held her face softly in his hand and turned her to face him, as they held each other's gaze.

She recently developed a complex regarding her skin not being flawless. Those cursed vogue magazines she picked at a store depicted ladies with blemish free faces. They continued to attack her newfound insecurity.

Jellal often witnessed her groaning while examining her face more than usual in front of the mirror. He saw her reading some magazines where models were photoshopped to an extreme extent, as if they had no skin texture at all. Some didn't even seem human with their body enhancements. It was abhorrent, he felt, to make women insecure regarding something which was naturally unachievable. He just wanted to let her know that he was going to love her no matter what and that outward appearance would never dwindle his feelings which he held for 14 years.

'Thank you Jellal', she took a deep breathe and smiled at him, being grateful for his support. 'I am not hating myself anymore for not having clear skin. Those vogue magazines depict a very unhealthy beauty standard and some women end up hating themselves for not looking that fabulous.'

'You shouldn't read them anymore. I don't want you to feel sad over something unrealistic. You are beautiful the way you are.' He didn't think she knew how beautiful she was in his eyes along with her flaws, especially her flaws.

'I am not, believe me. People are meant to be imperfect after all. That's where the real beauty lies. right?', she replied, meaning every single word she spoke, finally brimming with some self-confidence.

'Come here love, sit between my legs, come', he urged her and she relented by walking towards him. He shifted further along the mattress to make some space for her. She crawled over and seated herself comfortably between his legs and laid her back against his chest. He brought his legs around, boxing her within his hold. She brought her hands up to hold his and leaned into his cheek, sighing contently.

They spent a few moments in this position, simply observing and cherishing the sunrays falling into their room-for warming them up in this cold morning. Their hearts-already warmed up with the love they held for each other.

'Hey sleepyhead', he nudged her mildly when he noticed her blinking in exhaustion, almost ready to fall asleep owing to the cosy atmosphere they created, 'Aren't you hungry? What about breakfast? No- brunch.', he corrected himself when he turned his neck to look at the clock. It was almost 11.30 A.M.

'mhmp...? Oh brunch, right. I almost fell asleep', she chuckled, still slightly drowsy.

'What about strawberry sprinkled donuts glazed with white chocolate?!', she exclaimed ecstatically with her eyes wide open, now fully awake.

Of course, he should have known she would reply something of this sort.

'Sure, but after I feed you some healthy omelettes along with salad consisting of broccoli and beans.'

Jellal was kind of particular about nutrition.

'But those donuts are baked, not fried!', she argued. Apparently eating sweets for breakfast was perfectly healthy in Erza's dictionary.

'You can eat fried as well but after we have our brunch.', he hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. Forget brunch he wanted to eat her right now.

She smiled and rolled her eyes in her apparent defeat.

'Salad it is then.

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

A/N: This drabble is also a gentle reminder to all the beautiful ladies out there who feel inferior after browsing through Instagram, looking at those models and wondering why aren't we like them. We are not like them because they themselves do not represent a reality. Instagram is not real, nothing depicted there is. Keep loving yourself and stay hydrated. Do check out my others stories and leave a review if you liked this one. Constructive criticism is appreciated!

link to my profile on fanfiction.net

https://www.fanfiction.net/~damnyousillygoose

[likeshipsonthesea]

Nurseydex 18 ^_^

from this list 18. things you said when you were scared

fuck me, i tried not to make this what it is, but that’s where my head is at right now my dudes. warning for covid-related angst and anxiety (no sickness)

They try to Zoom at least once a week. That is, Chowder and Dex and Farmer and him. They’ve organized a few team-wide calls, a few just popping up from a stray offer in the group chat. But every week, usually over the weekend, he, Dex, Chowder, and Farmer hop on Zoom for a few hours.

Sometimes they watch stuff using Netflix party, sometimes they play online multiplayer games like Pictionary or Cards Against Humanity, sometimes they just chat for a few hours, about any inane thing or new show or nice story they heard.

Nursey likes it. Fuck, does he like it. It’s a bright spot in his week, spent totally in his apartment save for walks to the park and trips to the grocery store, both of which are always masked and always quick. It’s nothing like the real thing, nothing like visiting Dex in Boston and staying up watching stupid TV shows while pressing into one another on the couch, nothing like when Chowder plays a New York team and he and Nursey linger around the city all night, catching up, nothing like when Farmer has a work trip to the city and they get drinks and gossip and pretend like college isn’t getting farther and farther away.

But it’s a good substitute, if nothing else. Nursey doesn’t know what he’d do without it.

This week, weeks after he stopped counting the weeks, this week is a little different. Maybe it’s because it’s July, past all the original expected dates by which things should’ve returned to the way they were. Maybe it’s because Chowder is being forced back into something that’s both not enough and way too much because people miss sports. Maybe it’s because this was the weekend he was supposed to visit Dex for two whole weeks, both of them using their scant few vacation days for one another.

The notification comes through on his phone as they shift into the second episode of The Floor is Lava. It’s the airline, reminding him that the flight tomorrow is still cancelled.

Nursey flips off his video and his mic as the panicky, tear-mottled feeling claws into his chest. He puts into the chat that he’s going to the bathroom, continue without him, and he sits in front of his computer, watching his friends watch the show, and cries.

He cries, angry at himself for doing so. He cries, feeling hopelessness tangle with his tongue. He cries, trying to pull some glimmer of something positive out of the mess of anxiety and darkness and dread that has been eating at him since early March, and he finds nothing.

This sucks. Everything sucks. He wants to go back to work more than anything. He wants to see his parents without being terrified he’ll transfer something to his asthmatic dad, his mom with her family history of heart problems. He wants to fly to Boston and hug the man he’s loved for years without ever thinking that there would be a day when he wouldn’t be able to see him anymore. He wants things to be normal and they can’t be.

They can’t be because people care more about the economy than lives, because inconvenience is injustice to people in this country, because the world has somehow convinced people that millions dead isn’t any worse than the flu, because there isn’t an easy solution to anything that will make him feel better, and so he sits, and he cries, until the allotted time he had “in the bathroom” runs out.

Nursey wipes his tears. He checks himself in his phone camera before turning on his video and his mic. He watches the rest of The Floor is Lava, laughs at all the right parts, even enjoys it, despite the tightness in his chest.

Chowder and Farmer beg off after that episode. They’re planning to meet tomorrow, at a park halfway between their houses, masked and distancing. Nursey is so, so happy for them, and so painfully jealous. He’s looked up the drive to Boston a million times since March, but he doesn’t have a car, and public transit is terrifying. Three hours away never felt like a lifetime.

Dex doesn’t immediately leave with them. He sighs, when their pictures grow to fill the empty space on the screen, and he looks tired. The lighting accentuates the smudges under his eyes, his hair is unwashed, ruffled. He’s in an old college shirt, likely pajamas. Dex had started off the quarantine dressing every day like he was going into work, but slowly he turned in the button-downs for t-shirts.

“You doing okay?” Nursey asks, quiet. He doesn’t know what he wants to hear. That Dex is doing fine, making do, and Nursey is alone in this pit, or that he’s in this shit hole too?

Dex sighs again. He smiles, tight. “You know.”

Nursey nods, jerky. “Yeah, sorry. Loaded question.”

The tightness in Dex’s smile ebbs, some. His eyes aren’t on the camera, so it doesn’t feel like he’s looking at Nursey, but Nursey knows he is. He wonders what Dex can glean from the pixelated image, what anxieties he finds written into Nursey’s coded face. He wishes they were together, he wishes Dex could see his shaking hands, his slumped shoulders, wishes he didn’t have to say anything for Dex to know how not okay he’s feeling right now.

In college, Nursey didn’t have to say a word for Dex to know, to start baking Nursey’s favorite pie, to sit him down on the couch with warm hands on shoulders, set up some easy-to-watch, before-seen-and-loved show on the TV, sit down next to Nursey and just be quiet for a while.

The thought of that not happening again, the thought of it not happening for months, not happening until next year, terrifies Nursey. The words force their way, scratching, fighting, up his throat. He says them, aching. “I miss you.”

That, apparently, seems to be enough. Dex’s smile settles into a frown, little wrinkles appearing between his eyebrows. “I miss you, too,” he says, and means it. He always means what he says.

The panicky feeling reappears on Nursey’s tongue. He wants to turn off the camera, end the call. He doesn’t.

The alarm is blocky in Dex’s face. “Nursey.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t--” I don’t want to cry, he means to say, but doesn’t. He hates this. He hates this dreadful feeling with all of his being but he can’t claw away from it. He can stifle it, for days, or weeks, press things over it until it’s quieter, ignored, but then one stupid notification and he’s back, consumed, and he hates it, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Nursey.” Dex’s voice is firm, and tinny. “Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey laughs, wet. “What isn’t?” He swallows. “I’m sorry, I don’t--I don’t want to put this on you. I just--” Burden, burden, his anxious brain screams. Why are your emotions more important than his?

“Nursey, please, I just want to--” Dex reaches for the screen, like he could hold Nursey through the call, and Nursey aches harder.

“I miss you,” he says again, because it’s something that is true and doesn’t hurt like hopelessness, and he knows he’s got Dex right in front of him, but in a handful of minutes he will turn off the computer and be alone again, alone until next week, alone, alone, alone--

“I miss you, too,” Dex says again. The alarm has bled from the screen, leaving only this panicked desperation. Dex rambles. He never rambles. “And this sucks. This all fucking sucks. You’re supposed to be here and I’m supposed to be taking you to stupid tourist shit in the city and we’re supposed to get drunk and watch the sunset over the Charles River and fall asleep on the couch in the middle of movies and touch, Jesus fuck, I miss--” Dex swallows, harsh, “--I miss touching you.”

The tears stop forcing their way out. Nursey manages a few deep breaths and silences himself. He continues to stare at the screen, at Dex, at the imperfect vision of him.

Dex inhales, exhales, slow. “I don’t know when this is going to be-- better. I don’t-- I can’t expect it to be soon. I can’t--” He shakes his head. “Whenever this is better, whenever I can, I will come to New York. And until then, I will miss you. And it will suck.”

But what else, his following silence says, can I do?

Nursey nods, and wipes at his face. It helps, for some reason, even if there’s no new information. Maybe knowing Dex hates it just as much, wants to see him just as much, is comfort. Maybe Nursey just needed to cry in front of someone rather than alone for a change.

Whatever. Emotions suck and make no sense. Who cares why the looming dread is quieter, now, as long as it is?

“Do you,” Nursey says, voice rough, and tries again, “do you wanna watch another episode?”

Dex’s mouth quirks. “Chowder and Farms might kill us if we go ahead without them.” Nursey deflates mildly. Alone, alone. “But they added Avatar to Netflix. Want to watch that?”

Nursey grins.

They spend the rest of the night, and some of the next morning, watching Avatar: the Last Airbender. Nursey complains about how dirty they did Zuko with that haircut in Book 1 and Dex tells a story about how he wanted to be a waterbender when he was little, and the world still very much sucks, but, for a while, they don’t have to feel it so much.

[hopelikethemoon]

Homecoming (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: Homecoming Rating: Explicit  Length: 3200 Warnings: Smut (not everyone gets a ‘happy ending’ but everyone is still happy) Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set Summerish 1995. ‘95 is a weird year without dates yet. Perhaps that’s a tomorrow task Thanks to everyone who asked for “imperfect sex”.  Summary: Reader gets home after a business trip.

@grapemama​​ @seawhisperer​​ @huliabitch​​ @pedropascalito​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​ @thewallpapergoesorido​ @twomoonstwosuns​​ @gooddaykate​​ @livasaurasrex​​ @ham4arrow​​ @plexflexico​​​ @readsalot73​​ @hdlynn​​​ @lokiaddicted​​​ @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​  @roxypeanut​​​ @snivellusim​​​ @lukesrighthand​​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​ @awesomefandomsunited​​​ @ah-callie​​​ @swhiskeys​​​ @lady-tano​​​ @beskar-droids​​​ @space-floozy​​​ @cable-kenobi​​​ @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes​​​ @findhimfives​​​ @pedrosdoll​​​ @frietiemeloen​​​ @arrowswithwifi​​​ @random066​​ @uncomicalhumour​​​ @heather-lynn​​​ @domino-oh-damn​​​ @cyarikaaa​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​  @yabby-girl​​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​​ @punkass-potato​​ @coredrive​​ @pascalesque​​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​​ @queenquazar​​ @sabinemorans​​ @buckstaposition​​ @holkaskrosnou​​ @yespolkadotkitty​​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​​ @seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​ 

You drummed your fingers against the steering wheel as you watched another minute tick by on the digital clock on your dashboard. You were supposed to be home almost an hour ago, but an accident on I-95 had brought traffic to a standstill before you had a chance to get onto Route 1. 

Thank God for car phones. 

You opened the center console, keying in the home phone before tucking it between your shoulder and your ear as you focused on inching forward another two feet. 

“Hello?”

“Hey,” You smiled as Javier picked up the phone. “Still stuck on the road.”

“Jesus Christ,” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You got enough gas?”

“I filled up on the turnpike,” You assured him, glancing at the fuel gauge, “I’m good. Promise.” 

“Any movement?”

You glanced at a road sign as you inched past it. “I’m almost to 112. I’m gonna try to un-ass myself of this mess there.”

“Maybe another thirty?” He questioned hopefully. 

“That’s optimistic,” You chuckled, pushing your fingers through your hair as you grumbled at the car in front of you. “Yeah, sure. Just come on over jackass. Not like the rest of us are trying to get out of this shit too.”

“Ah, I see the road rage has settled in.” Javier teased. 

“I just wanna be home.” You admitted. “I thought I could do this whole work-trip thing, but… I’m not a fan.”

“I know, baby. Four days is a long time.”

“I don’t know how you did it,” You remarked. How many times had he had to go away in Colombia? You hadn’t even considered the agony of being away from Javi and Josie until you had settled into your first night alone in a hotel room in St. Pete.

“Did you have fun at least?”

“You know me, I just love public speaking to a bunch of men who think they know better than me.” You laughed bitterly, “It was fine. I actually did really well.”

“Of course you did, baby.” You could practically feel the adoration in his voice. “If it’s any consolation — we missed you. A lot.”

“I missed you too,” You chewed on your bottom lip. “I cannot wait to be home.”

“Yeah?” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I made dinner. Well, I ordered dinner.”

“It’s going to be cold by the time I get home,” You sighed, rubbing at your forehead as traffic came to a complete halt again. “What’d you get?”

“Chinese. General Tso’s, fried rice, your favorite egg rolls.”

“You know how to spoil me.”

“I have a few plans to spoil you.”

“Momma!” Josie squealed from somewhere on the other side of the call and your heart clenched. 

“You wanna say hello, JoJo?” Javier questioned, “Hang on.” There was a rustle of noise as he sat the phone down, before returning a beat later. “I’ve got you on speaker phone.”

“Hey, baby doll!” You said enthusiastically, wishing you could see her on the other side of the call. “Did you miss mommy?”

“Mommy!” Josie clapped her hands. “Da-da! Mommy!” 

“She looks thrilled,” Javier told you. “She’s looked for you every day.”

“I’m sure she has.” You tried to ignore the ache in your chest. “I’ll be home soon, baby doll. And I’m going to read you a story and tuck you in. Everything I missed this week.” You shook your head slowly, “I don’t know how you did this, Javi.”

“It killed me.” Javier admitted quietly, before the phone rustled again as he let Josie go off to play once more, switching off the speaker. “Why do you think I’d come over in the middle of the night, even if it meant an hour or two of actual sleep?”

“I get it now. You were willing to do what you had to, to make up for what you missed out on.” The traffic let up a little, allowing you to drive further down the road without stopping. “I’m about five minutes from the exit, I think. I should be home before seven.”

“I’ll keep JoJo up so you can tuck her in.”

“Let her sleep if she’s tired, babe.”

“Baby, I know how important it is.”

“Yeah, I guess you do. Thank you.” You smiled to yourself. “I can’t wait to kiss you.”

Javier chuckled, “Me neither. Four days is a long time, isn’t it?”

“And lonely. I hated sleeping in a giant king hotel bed alone.” You made a face. “You two are coming with me next time.”

“I know I slept for shit without you next to me,” Javier told you. “Who knew that after three years with someone you could get real fucking used to not sleeping alone.” 

“I know!” You laughed, “Okay, I’ve reached the exit. I should be home in twenty.” You told him as you veered off 95, taking the exit that would get you home sometime this century. 

“See you in a few.” Javier murmured, “I love you.”

“Love you too. I’ll be home soon.”

Somehow you managed to hit every fucking light on the way home, but at least you made it home before seven. 

“Next time I have a conference in St. Pete — I’m flying. It was an easy six hour drive up, but Jesus Christ…” You complained as you threw your purse down on the sofa, abandoning your suitcase by the door. “Nine hours today.”

“But you’re home now,” Javier pointed out as he greeted you with a kiss, passing a very sleepy Josie to you. 

“Hello, baby girl.” You whispered as you cradled her against you, running your hand over her back as she clung to you. “I swear you’ve gotten bigger in just four days.”

“Missed you.” Josie told you, her eyes heavy as she rested her cheek against your shoulder. “No go bye-bye mommy.”

“I’m not going bye-bye anytime soon.” You promised her, kissing her forehead. You reached out with your free hand to urge Javier closer. He wrapped an arm around both of you as he hugged you. “Did daddy take good care of you?”

She nodded excitedly and Javier chuckled. “He braided-ed my hair!”

“Did he?” You grinned at Javier. “And how did he learn to do that?”

“Steve.” Javier gave your hip a squeeze. “Surprisingly good at braiding.”

“Impressive.” You laughed, giving Josie’s head another kiss. “I’m going to go put her down, do you mind heating up dinner for me?”

“Do I mind?” Javier scoffed and stole a kiss. “Of course I don’t mind, baby.”

“Thank you,” You played your fingers through his hair, before you headed down the hall to Josie’s room. 

You barely made it through the first few pages of The Swan Princess before she was out like a light beside you. You stayed there, watching her sleep for as long as your stomach would allow you.

The smell of the reheated Chinese food wafting down the hallway had your stomach in knots with hunger. If you had known how long the drive was going to be — you would’ve gotten something to eat on the turnpike. 

As much as you wanted to get back in the field, go on assignment, and travel again — you really did want to be home with Javier and Josie. You were only a little jealous that Javier had adapted to stay-at-home life so easily. He was so at ease, constantly. 

You wanted Josie to have that bond with her father — the same one you’d always craved as a little girl. But you also wanted to be there for dinnertime, bathtime, storytime, and bedtime. You didn’t want to miss a week of her life. 

“I am starving.” You told Javier as you collapsed onto the sofa beside him. You dragged your hands over your face, sighing heavily before you leaned forward and grabbed the plate he’d prepared for you. “Thank you.”

“Whatever you need, baby.” Javier angled himself towards you, watching you with rapt attention. “I missed you.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, “I missed you too.” You dipped your egg roll into the sauce, before you took a bite. You shifted towards him, leaning against his arm. “It was so weird.”

Javier curled his arm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Aside from missing us, did you have a good time?”

“The conference went really well. I think the force up there is going to follow the model I’ve been implementing here. They don’t understand the importance of informants—“

“No one ever does.”

“Right?” You laughed, taking another bite of your egg roll. “There was a lot of evening socializing that I wasn’t really interested in.” You raised a brow as you tilted your head to look at him. 

Javier pressed a kiss to your cheek, “What? Afraid you’d have a repeat of the first night?” 

You snorted, “Yeah. I mean, I’m all for getting bought drinks, but don’t try to slip me your room key.” You made a face as you scooped up a fork full of fried rice. You chewed it down a little too fast and ended up burping and hiccuping at the same time. 

“I mean, what a catch.” Javier teased, keeping his arm curled around you. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Not bad manners, just good food.” You leaned forward to grab the beer off the coffee table, washing down the fried rice before taking a bite of the chicken. “As I was saying—“ You gave him a look. “I wasn’t looking to get hit on at the hotel bar.” 

Javier rubbed at the back of his neck, “They’d probably wonder how you ended up with me.”

“Javier,” You rolled your eyes, slapping his leg playfully. 

“Baby, you’re gorgeous.”

“You just want to get laid tonight.” You retorted hotly, running your tongue over your bottom lip as you met his gaze. 

“Four days is a long time.” Javier pointed out as he traced his fingers over your arm, his gaze flickering to your lips. 

“Were your hands not enough, Javi?” You questioned, leaning in to press your lips to his. 

“I didn’t.”

Your brows rose upwards, “Really?”

“Figured I could wait until you got home,” He drawled out, leaning in to steal another kiss, his tongue playing over your lips. 

“I guess I should eat faster then,” You laughed, winding your fingers through his hair as you brushed your nose against his. “So you can eat.”

Javier snorted.

“Though, we could always go to the main course.” You suggested, taking another bite of chicken. “My vibrator was a poor imitation of the real deal.”

“You used it?” He shook his head. 

You shrugged, “What else was I going to do at the hotel at six in the evening? Don’t be too jealous.” 

Javier ran his hand over your thigh, his fingers sliding inwards over the inner fabric of your pants. “You should’ve called.”

“I know, but I knew you’d be getting Josie ready for bed.” You sighed and pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek. “Not to mention, I was pretty stressed and it was not as alleviating as I hoped.”

He pressed a kiss to the curve of your jaw, “Still stressed?”

“Two more bites of dinner and I’m yours.” You promised him, shoving half the egg roll into your mouth as you hastily chewed it down. “They’re not terrible nuked.”

“They were good when they were fresh.”

You nudged him in the ribs, “I’m sorry, take that up with the traffic gods. I would’ve loved to be home hours ago.” You licked the sauce off your thumb, before leaning forward to put your plate back on the coffee table. 

“I’ll light a candle,” He taunted, his eyes raking over your face before he hesitated, “You should finish eating.”

“Are you sure?” You frowned, “I ate half a bag of pretzel sticks on the drive.” You took a swig of beer, before sitting it next to your plate. “You know I’m not against midnight breakfast.”

Javier shook his head, his lips drawing up at the corner a warm smile. “Take your time, enjoy your dinner.”

“Javi?”

He arched a brow, “Hmm?”

“I’ve been in a car for nine hours.” You said slowly as you moved to straddle his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. “And thinking about coming home to you was the one thing that kept me from partaking in road rage.”

He ran his hands over your hips, one hand sliding around to grab your ass as he looked up at you. “Who knew I had so much power.” Javier smirked, leaning up to kiss you.

You dragged your fingers through his hair as you sank into the kiss, your tongue playing over his bottom lip with a soft groan. You pulled back with a grin, “You have a lot of power.” 

“Couch or bed?”

“Bed.” You whispered as you brushed your nose against his, “I want out of these pants.” You rolled your hips downwards slowly, before you climbed off of his lap. 

“I love the way you think.” Javier chuckled as he followed you down the hallway. 

You walked backwards into the bedroom, meeting his eyes with a smirk of your own, “I’ve been known to have a few good ideas.” 

Javier closed the distance between the two of you, a hand at your hip and the other at your jaw as he descended upon you. It felt like a week’s worth of desire pent up into that one kiss and it lit a flame of need within you.

He guided you back onto the bed and you held him wrestle your pants off your legs, leaning up on your elbows as he tossed them aside. “Still want the main course baby?” 

You nodded your head, hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your underwear and sliding them down your thighs. Javier caught ahold of them and tugged them off. 

Javier bent down and pressed a kiss to your lower belly as his hand ran up along the inside of your thigh. “I’ve missed you so fucking much, baby.”

“Then show me.” You taunted as you tugged at his hair. Javier dragged his hand up higher until his fingers reached your cunt, his fingers dragging over your folds. 

You sank back against the bed, savoring the feel of his fingers as he played over your sensitive flesh, stoking the flames of arousal there. 

Javier pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your lower stomach, before scraping his teeth over your soft skin there. He worked two fingers into you, thrusting them in and out of you twice before he pulled back. 

He leaned over you to catch lips again and you managed to reach downward between the two of you to work his jeans open. Javier groaned against your lips as you worked your hand inside, palming his rigid cock through his boxers. 

“Happy to see me?” You murmured against his lips as he drew back just enough to catch a breath. 

“Very.” Javier bumped his noses against yours, before he kissed you again. 

You tugged his boxers down his hips, getting them down about mid-thigh to where his jeans were before you gave up. You were both half dressed — it didn’t matter. 

Javier’s hand curled around your hip as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. You curled a leg around him, trying to angle yourself towards him. 

“Fuck!” You gasped out as his cock slid into you, filling you so deliciously. “That’s it, Javi.” You urged, curling your fingers around the back of his neck as you met his eyes.

“You feel so fucking good.” Javier drawled out as he leaned back, his hands gripping at your hips tightly as he started thrusting into you in earnest. 

You grabbed curled your hands around his forearms, gripping at them tightly as you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts. Your lips parted as a breathy moan escaped you. “Javier.” 

“Is that what you want, baby?” He questioned, dragging his hand along the length of the leg you had wrapped around his hips. “Shit—“ Javier hissed out, his grip tightening at your hip as his pace faltered. You knew that face. 

“It’s okay.” You promised him, grabbing at his shoulder as you pulled yourself up. You tilted your head, lips brushing against his as you rolled your hips. “Let go.” You whispered against his mouth as you curled your fingers around the back of his neck. 

“Fucking… baby, I’m—“

You cut him off with a searing kiss before he had the chance to finish. He released his hold on your leg, slipping his hand between you where his cock was driving into you, but you intercepted him. You interlaced your fingers with his and that was all it took to send him careening over the edge.

Your own release was just out of reach, but there was something almost equally pleasurable about watching Javier come undone for you. To feel his cock throb as it spilled within you. 

“It’s okay,” You whispered, winding your fingers through his hair as you laid back and took him with you. You were both hanging halfway off the bed, but you really didn’t mind. 

“Is it?” He grumbled, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Don’t be.” You ran your hand down his back. “I still had fun.” You turned your head as much as you could to press a kiss to whatever available bare patch of skin you could find.

Javier groaned quietly as he pushed himself up on his hands, towering over you. “Let me make it up to you.”

You shook your head, tracing a finger over his bottom lip. “You can make it up to me by getting undressed so we can go to sleep. Okay?”

“You sure?” He questioned, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. Javier searched your eyes as you nodded, “I’m gonna grab something to clean up with. Don’t move.”

You drew in a sharp breath as he slipped out of you. The moment had definitely passed, as disappointing as it was. You were stressed and exhausted. 

You sat up and peeled off your shirt, tossing it off the side of the bed as you waited for Javier to return from the bathroom. “I need to brush my teeth too,” You told him as he knelt down at the foot of the bed as he wiped off the mess that had been left behind. 

Javier pressed a kiss to your leg just on the inside of our knee, “Didn't mean you make your homecoming a letdown.”

“Good thing you didn’t let me down then.” You told him with a warm smile as you held him stand back up as you rose. “You’re more than welcome to wake me up however you see fit… but not before seven.”

“I can arrange that,” Javier’s lips cracked into a faint smile. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too.” You brushed your fingers over his cheek. “I missed my bed… and it’s other occupant.”

Javier snorted, “Even if he’s early to the party?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you headed for the bathroom to brush your teeth, “I only care that you were at the party.” You quipped, firing a finger gun at him before you ducked into the bathroom.  

[bardsingingasong]

5+1 Chances to scare you

TITLE: 5+1 chances to scare you | Read on AO3

AUTHOR: Bardsingingasong | MarysseLalonde

RELATIONSHIPS: Kyle Rayner/Jason Todd

SUMMARY: Jason never scares, or that's what he says. Kyle is determined to prove the opposite.

           There're 5 times tat Kyle tries to scare his boyfriend and 1 when he gets               it, more or less.

WORD COUNT: 3,677

BOOKS/NETFLIX/2002 SHOW/VIDEO GAME: Batman-All Media Types, Green Lantern- All Media Types

TRIGGERS/WARNINGS: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning.

RATING: G

ADDITIONAL NOTES: 

Happy Halloween!

Yeah, I know Halloween is already past, but never is too late to celebrate it!

I'm very glad to contribute to this fandom and this precious ship. I hope you enjoy these idiots in love.

As usual, I want to thank my beta, TanisVs, for her work. You're the best girl, and I love you so much!!

Friendly reminder: English isn't my first language. I'm trying to improve my English, but I have a lot of work to do. Please if you wish to comment, first of all, thank you, and least be polite, I'm doing my best.

Enjoy!

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"As if you could scare me.”

Kyle frowned, and raised his head from Jason's shoulder to look at him. It was late at night. The patrol was over, and Kyle was back on Earth for the next month. They had decided to watch a movie, specifically a horror movie.

Growing up in Gotham and being trained by Batman had made Jason think that he was immune to fear. He liked to pretend he couldn't feel that emotion in particular, but Kyle knew it best. After all, the White Lantern was linked to the emotional spectrum.

"As if you were never afraid,” Kyle bit back. "Everyone feels fear sooner or later.” 

"Yes, but it didn't mean you can scare me."

Kyle moved away from Jason, leaning on the sofa to look at him. Jason had that smile of his, which means he was fooling around with Kyle.

"I will," His voice tone was firm. "I know you, I could scare you in one way or another."

Jason stared at him, his smile growing bigger while his fingers held Kyle's chin.

"Sounds like a dare." He sounded playful and sensual. He was using the tone that he knew it drove Kyle mad. He was trying to distract him. Jason probably was bored with the movie, and he was in the mood to play.

And Kyle hated taking the bait so quickly.

"Maybe it is." Kyle was digging his own grave, but he never refused a challenge no matter how absurd it was.

"I would like to see you try."

In a second, Kyle was astride Jason's lap, devouring his mouth.

"It's a dare?" Jason asked between kisses.

"Will you take it?" Jason pulled him and pressed him against his body. His hips were raised, telling Kyle what he was thinking all the time during the movie. That was a little disturbing, but Kyle could understand that it was a time since he was on Earth.

"Maybe later, when I'm not busy".  

There were no more words after that. The movie continued playing in the background, but sooner rather than later, their screams of pleasure ended up covering the scare screams from the film.

Later, when they were resting at Jason's bed, Kyle began to think of his plan attack.

1

“You know, I think we have a ghost in the apartment.”

Jason gave him an incredulous look. He was throw away over the sofa, watching a movie with a large popcorn bowl. Kyle should have joined him, but he had claimed how much he wanted to paint.

"And you think that because... ?"

Kyle stared at him. He usually didn't care how Jason looked like an idiot from time to time, but sometimes he wished his boyfriend would take him seriously. If Jason wanted a reason, he would have one.

"Because I was working on my canvas when some of your books fell from the bookshelf."

“Are you sure it wasn't you who has made them fall?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "I'm sure, because your stupid Jane Austen's books are floating everywhere, and I can't do that without my ring."

Red Hood grumbled. He left the bowl on the sofa and paused the movie before he got up. He didn’t seem not much convinced but went to the bedroom anyway. Kyle followed him. The two of them stopped in their tracks at the doorway. The room was uncoordinated, with all Kyle's paints over the bed and the floor. An easel was in front of the windows and on it the unfinished canvas. The scene could be normal, but there were some open books, floating mid-air. The books moved like someone was making them levitate. Maybe for the inexperienced eye they could look more real, but Jason wasn't a beginner. A single look was enough to know what happened there.

"If you make a single scratch on my books, it'll not matter how much I love you, you'll sleep in the streets for the rest of your Earth's days off." Jason said. He turned around and started to walk to the living room. "Put them back on the bookshelf, Rayner.”

The Lantern looked at him and back to the room.

"Aw c'mon, man! Are you serious?!" He ran after him. Jason was again on the sofa with the movie playing and the popcorn bowl on his lap. "You didn't doubt for a second."

"Who do you think I am, Ky?" He threw up a popcorn and ate it in flight. "I work with the big bat, your childish tricks could never fool me."

Kyle sighed loudly. He dropped on the couch, next to Jason, resting his head on the backrest. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jason's mocking smile. Acting like a child, the White Lantern set the bowl aside and lay down on Jason's lap, crossing his arms with a pout on his face. Immediately, Jason caressed his hair.

Almost all the time, those gestures made Kyle doubt how people could think Jason was anything but a loving person. He knew how brutal and lethal Jason could be, but it was always for a reason... most of the time. The ex-Robin was very protective of the people he loved, and his love was not easy to earn but if you got it, it would last forever.

In Kyle's opinion, the man had suffered enough to let him be imperfect. Maybe Red Hood didn't comply with Batman's code, but he was efficient, and the same hands that could skew a life they also could be affectionate.  

"Just for curiosity.” Kyle said. "What gave me away?"

"Many things. Your canvas was dry, and I could see the fishing line a mile away". Jason's voice was flat, even bored, but Kyle knew him for years and he could hear a tiny, tiny, note of fun on his tone. "You'll need to be more convincing if you want to scare me, Lantern."

Kyle snorted, giving Jason a bite in his thigh. Scare Jason Todd would be more difficult than he had thought in the first place.

2

"OH MY GOD! JASON!"

Kyle's scream surprised him in the shower. Normally he would have ignored the Lantern while showering, but this time something sounded wrong in Kyle's voice. Jason turned off the tap and wrapped himself with a towel. If it was a joke, he would ensure that his boyfriend would have a punishment.  

Jason walked towards the kitchen, leaving a trail of water behind him. He would clean it up later, when he was sure Kyle hadn't been hurt by any nonsense. If anyone could do something so stupid and end up hurting himself, it was Kyle (and Dick too, but that was another matter). Sometimes Jason would try to explain to himself how Kyle could survive in space and be part of a group like the Lantern Corps as clumsy as he was.

"It may already be import… ant."

Jason fell silent as he entered the kitchen. Kyle was standing by the counter, with a rolled-up cloth tightly covering his hand. The cloth was completely stained red, and was dripping profusely. The cutting board and the knife with which he must have been working until then were equally stained with red. At first glance, it would appear that Kyle had cut himself. Very much so. To be honest, Jason would say that was the best performance the White Lantern could do. He was even crying! He could have fooled anyone, but not Jason. Definitely not Jason, who could distinguish fake blood from the real one with his eyes closed.

Red Hood saved the prank in his mind, he would ensure that Kyle will do it again with the Outlaws. Roy's face would be epic. But for now, he stayed near the door, looking at Kyle with his arms crossed.

"That's the best you can do?" Jason's tone had no emotion, but he arched one eyebrow, revealing his amusement. Jason had left his warm shower to suffer another pitiful try from his boyfriend to scare him. He'll make Kyle paid for it later. For the moment, Jason would be satisfied with dismantling his joke. "I don't know what have you used as fake blood, but it is more liquid than real blood. Nice whack, Lantern."

"In your defense I would say that it could have been quite convincing for someone with no experience. Play the joke on Jordan or Gardner, they'll fall for it."

"What about John?"

"Steward is the smart one in your little gang. He probably won't believe it."

"Does that mean I'm an idiot too?"

Jason didn't answer. He smiled and said:

"You're going to clean up this mess and make dinner while I finish showering, got it?"

Kyle pouted but smiled after. Scare Jason was his challenge, and it would be more fun than the second Robin had thought.

3

"Okay, this time it has to be the final one." Kyle took the final look at his latest work: a tall ghostly figure hanging in the middle of his studio. The smell of fresh paint still hung in the air, as the last layer had not yet dried.

The first two attempts had been a total fiasco, but this time Kyle thought he could make it. He had been working tirelessly for days to finish the puppet of the ghost, covered with layers and layers of fluorescent paint that gave it a rather spooky realism.

That night, none of them would be home. Jason had patrol with the rest of the bats, and Kyle would spend the day working as a team with other Earth Lanterns. That meant the Lanterns had an excuse to drink together, and for Kyle it meant he had an alibi when his prank exploded in Jason's face.

"Okay, Kyle, you can do this."

Kyle had left home early, having left a light construction as an alarm to know when Jason was leaving. So he had come back and set the trap, placing it where Jason didn't expect to find it.

When he returned with the rest of the torches, they bombarded him with questions. Hal and Guy laughed outrageously, while John and Simon looked at him with some disapproval. On the other hand, Jessica smiled at him and gave him new ideas in case the prank didn't work.

Time passed quickly between laughs and drinks, and by the time Kyle returned home, he had forgotten his own trap.

"I'm home," he said, opening the front door.

Jason's muffled voice received him. He wasn't in sight, so Kyle thought he was probably in the bathroom. Exhausted and a little drunk, Kyle went to the bedroom to change his clothes, thinking of making a light dinner for him and his boyfriend later. Suddenly, a tall, shiny figure pounced on him. Kyle, lost in thought, had no time to turn away completely and let out a cry of surprise. The figure collapsed after hitting him, and broke into pieces on the floor.

Kyle stood extremely still, totally taken by surprise, and watched what was left of his joke that he had been working on for a whole week. His drunkenness disappeared suddenly, with the loud sound of his heart beating in his ears. Obviously, Jason hadn't fallen into her trap, but he had.

How ironic, a victim of his own plans.

 "What's broken?" Jason asked, poking his head out the door.

"My dignity..."

Jason was curious, but didn't push for Kyle to tell him what had happened. Kyle looked, and was, very embarrassed, with a strong blush on his cheeks. He just cleaned up the broken pieces of the ghost without saying a word.

Later, when Kyle checked the security cameras, Jason's laughter echoed throughout. And the next day, when he woke up, the icon of an unread message was blinking on his phone. When he opened it, he found a laconic:

<Jason: 3, Kyle: 0>

Sometimes he really hated his boyfriend.  

4

Kyle started to get discouraged. He already had three failures in his mission to scare Jason. Perhaps it was impossible, after all, Jason had been through too many traumatic experiences since he was a child to be afraid of mundane things like ghosts, blood and floating books. Kyle thought about googling. He knew that Gotham had a website where people explained and taught how to make those kinds of scary jokes and traps, not just for Halloween but in case someone wanted to make them at any time of the year. Kyle thought it was a bit disturbing. Some of the jokes were funny, but others also made him think that most people in Gotham needed to go to therapy.

"How do you make a fake cut head? And then they say this city has the highest crime rate in the country. I wonder why."

Kyle decided to try one and ended up watching all the available tutorials. They were really creepy and unpleasant, although Jason probably wasn't afraid of them either.

"But I don't lose anything by trying..."

What Kyle hadn't counted on was having to watch people hide their fake heads in the fridge. That made him feel a lot worse than knowing that he probably couldn't scare his boyfriend, because... Well, the thought of Alex had never stopped hurting him. He had learned to deal with it over time, it was true, but... No, if he was going to play that prank on Jason, he couldn't, shouldn't, even think about going near the fridge with something that simulated a human body part.

The choice of model was quite easy. He couldn't risk anyone going off the rails, so he couldn't choose anyone from Jason's immediate environment. No Waynes, no Alfred, no Outlaws, no Titans in general. So he had to use someone just as willing as he was to play those kinds of jokes. Guy Gardner was always the best choice if you were looking for a partner in crime. Kyle only needed to tell him his plan so Guy would sign up without hesitation.

Now, a large jar was on the kitchen table, and inside was a picture of Guy's head.

"I'm home!" Jason announced from the front door.

Kyle looked up from the picture he was working on and took a look at the jar. He smelled the Chinese food, Jason had brought dinner. "Kyle?"

"Here." Kyle forced himself to stay focused on his work.

Jason walked over to the couch, left a kiss on Kyle's head and went into the kitchen. Kyle needed all his willpower not to look at his reaction. But to his disappointment, Jason pretended that nothing was out of place.

"Okay, I admit I almost believed it this time," he said, calmly. Kyle put the notebook aside and looked at his boyfriend. Jason was taking out the Chinese food boxes, placing them on the counter near Guy's fake head. "Gardner is a pain in the ass, I wouldn't be surprised if one day you decided to give him his due.”

"Don't say that." Kyle leaned against the sofa, watching Jason put the food on the plates. "You should get along better with him, he's my best friend and you're my boyfriend. You get along so badly because you look so much alike."

"Even more so.” When Jason left the dishes on the table, he approached Kyle and leaned in to kiss him properly. "Anyway, it's pretty well done. Can I put it on the shelf?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. Another failed plan.

"Whatever you want. Just don't put it in the bedroom, I don't want to see my friend's head while we're having sex."

5

Everything had failed. Kyle had no ideas anymore, no real strength, to try and scare Jason. His boyfriend was like an iceberg, nothing seemed to scare him, and the most he could do was make him laugh at his pathetic jokes.

"Just jump after him and say 'BOH!'" Dick had said last night, when they were having dinner with Jason's brothers.

Dick's suggestion was absurd. If Jason wasn't scared of anything, he definitely wouldn't do it because of a jump scare. But in for a penny, in for a pound, he thought.

Kyle came closer to the couch, where Jason was having a nap, using his ring to float and make less noise possible. But he was distracted by the thought that he might give Jason a heart attack, until he suddenly realized that his boyfriend had opened his eyes and was staring at him. Kyle flinched.

"Tell me you're not doing what Dick told you to do." Jason said. His voice sounded sleepy and resigned.

"No?" Kyle replied. Jason raised an eyebrow, skeptical, and Kyle felt his cheeks burning. "Okay, okay! I'm out of ideas."

"Do you want one? Admit your defeat, and come here with me."

That was the last attempt and the last defeat, so Kyle decided to be content, rather than reward himself, by curling up in Jason's arms and abandoning himself to pampering.

6

It had to be a nightmare.

Jason searched Kyle's body, frantic and agitated, desperate to find signs of life. He held the lantern in his arms, his head tilted unnaturally, and his eyes closed.

"Please wake up, Kyle, please, please." Jason whispered.

"Jay..." He heard Roy, who put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly in a gesture intended to be comforting.

The other Lanterns of the Earth landed in front of him. Jason didn't need to look at them to know how they felt. He could hear Jessica's grasp, and he was pretty sure that sound was Gardner hitting something.

That couldn't be happening.

"Jason."

Jason ignored that voice, more focused on stroking Kyle's cheek. His skin was cold, and it shouldn't be. Kyle hated the cold, he always wrapped himself in a lot of blankets when he was in Jason's flat.

"Jason." The same voice called him again.

This time, a firm hand grabbed his arm. Red Hood looked up and met Hal Jordan, the man who had once argued with Batman about how Jason was fucking his beautiful little brother.

"Let it be." Jordan said.

Jason frowned.

"I'm not going to leave him! He's hurt, he needs help!" Red Hood replied, angry.

Jason saw compassion in Jordan's eyes, and he hated him. Why did he feel sorry for him instead of helping Kyle? No one around him was moving a finger, what was wrong with them?

"Jason, he's gone." Roy said.

"He's right here."

"Kyle's dead, Jason." Batman's voice echoed in his head.

"Poor little broken Robin. Did you lose something?" He knew that voice. It was the Joker, chasing him wherever he went. "Maybe if he hadn't been near you, he'd still be alive."

His singing voice made Jason feel sick. Batman was right, Kyle was dead. And the clown was also right, if he had been more attentive, maybe, maybe Kyle wouldn't have had to intervene and...

Kyle was dead because of him.

"Jason."

Someone was calling him, but Jason ignored him. I had to help Kyle, I had to do something. He felt a pang of horrible guilt crushing him to the ground.

"Jason."

The voice was loud. He knew it. It was sweet and quiet, like Kyle's voice when he convinced him to stay home on a rainy day, and drink hot chocolate until they couldn't take it anymore. He felt a wave of affection. That had been a good time.

"Jason, please wake up."

Jason opened his eyes. He could feel his heart beating strongly against his ears.

"Come on, honey, breathe. It was a nightmare."

Jason closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled, trying to do it as slowly as possible. When he became aware of his surroundings, he felt someone beside him. A hand was tracing soft circles on his chest, making him feel much more comfortable and calm. A calm voice spoke intelligible words of comfort.

When Jason finally opened his eyes and got used to the twilight, he saw Kyle next to him. He looked very worried, but was smiling softly, surely relieved that Jason had finally calmed down.

"Hey." Jason mumbled.

"Hey." Kyle replied. "Are you okay?"

"I'm feeling better." It was going to take Jason a while to recover, but he would work on it.

"It was just a nightmare." Kyle repeated, still anguished.

Yes, it had been a nightmare, but it wasn't just that, Jason wanted to say.

All of Jason's nightmares were hard.

Sometimes the dream was about his own death, other times it was about the death of his loved ones. None of them were better than the other, all of them made Jason feel like a wreck for a while.

"You were dead in my arms," he whispered.

Kyle bit his lip. He felt many emotions bubbling up inside Jason, but (sadly) fear was the predominant one. Kyle curled up on his side, resting his head on Jason's chest. Jason moved to put his arm around Kyle, keeping him close to him.

"I know he was trying to scare you, but that's not how he wanted to do it. Kyle felt Jason's laughter under his cheek as he pressed him a little closer to his body.

"I'll give you that." He said. "But I prefer all the other times, they were much more fun than... this."

They were silent for a while. Kyle began to feel sleepy, although he knew Jason wouldn't fall asleep, at least for the rest of the night. Then... he heard him.

"I love you."

Kyle smiled, barely surprised, but delighted. He felt it, he felt his love overcoming his fear at full speed.

"I know."

Jason mumbled, with a snort.

"Don't quote Star Wars, nerd."

They burst out laughing almost at once. In the end, Jason had gotten scared, though in the way Kyle would have wanted. It didn't matter though, they were together, they loved each other.

And that was the most important thing.