#i’ve tried drawing the other characters but my brain won’t let me…. i have been cursed with the shake lover disease

[taliecin]

i’m procrastinating on my uni assignments and i’m also generally frustrated with not having any drawing skills so let me just bombard you with something that has been rotting my brain recently LeoSagi “Millennium Actress” AU “What”, you might ask. Well, let me share everything I have on hand at the moment  SPOILERS FOR “MILLENNIUM ACTRESS (just in case)

Also please keep in mind, the movie discussed below is build heavily on the history of Japan and Japanese cinema specifically. I am myself not Japanese and, alas, I don’t even have much knowledge on both subjects, so I tried to avoid going into historical details. Also, part of text is focused on Japan’s role and activity during WWII. I consider myself to be under no obligation to make any statements on subject, I only took actual historical facts and did my best to not manipulate them. Apologies in advance for not researhing more before writing this.

For those of you who don’t know, “Millennium Actress” is an animated movie directed by Satoshi Con, whom you might know for his other works such as “Paprika” or “Perfect Blue”. I strongly recommend cheking out Con’s full filmography, which is, alas, really short, but for now let’s focus on “Actress”.

I won’t share the whole plot of the movie in here, since this crossover story  follows movie pretty closely. “Millenium Actress” is a story of retired actress Fujiwara Chiyoko who, along with her biggest fan and interviewer Tachibana Genya and his cameraman, travels through the memories of her life and work, while also revealing a story of her one and true love, which she chased her whole life. Let;s just state that this is a story of love that reaches through time and layers of reality - Chiyoko’s memories of her actual life and her roles blend together throughout the story, which blures the line of reality and fantasy, a repetitive theme for Con . It’s also a beautiful love letter to history of Japanese Cinema, critical retrospective of Japanese History and, overall, one of the best movies i’ve ever seen, so please make sure to watch it.

And now, let’s get to tortoise and hare. This story is not based on any particular version of TMNT or Usagi. On the contrary,  the whole point to me was to blend all this variations of the same characters. Just as with Chiyoko’s character, for this version of Usagi I took some inspiration from a real-life actor,  Toshiro Mifune (uh-huh), mostly known for his roles in Akira Kurasawa’s samurai movies AND for his portrayal of Miyamoto Musashi in so called “Samurai Trilogy”, based on a book about Miyamoto. 

The main characters of this crossover story are Miyamoto Usagi, a retired actor living as a hermit, and his young fan... Usagi Yuichi. I kinda thought it would be an actually interesting way to use his character. He is a president of a really small fun club dedicated to Usagi, (since his glory days are long gone), and his last name is also just a little funny coincidence which he considers to be a sign from Fate. (Yes, he is not blood-related to Usagi in this story, hope it’s ok). He works with “Samurai Rabbit” version of Chizu as his camera assistant, because i actually find their dinamic fitting for the story.

They are finally able to arrange the interview with Usagi, and once they arrive, they are met with an old man with a scar over his left brow, red eyes, pale white skin and pale hair. I strongly headcanon human!Usagi to be albino, i hope it’s ok. Before the start of an actual interview, Yuichi gives Usagi a key, which an elder man instantly recognizes. He asks Yuichi where did he find it, but Yuichi says he only recieved it after the announcement of him doing this interview, with inctructions to give the key to Usagi. Usagi then shares that he lost the key a long time ago, and that it opens “the most important thing there is”. 

He first tells of his childhood, which is pretty close to movie - Usagi was born in trying times for world, when Japan’s military ambitions led to conquest of Chinese lands. Usagi’s father was a grandson to a samurai turned merchant, whose position grew with Meiji period, and so Usagi’s father, while owning a business, a small shop, took big pride in his heritage, and taught his son to do so, to be proud of who he is as a person. Not to mention their common albinism. I wasn’t able to find any proper resource on history of albino people’s position throughout Japanese history (if you have any please contact me i’m really curious!), since some resources claim that due to beauty standarts albino people could have been even looked up to, others talk about white being associated with gods, priests and sacrality, while others point out white’s association with death. Nevertheless, I imagine Usagi’s childhood to be quite lonely, both because of his appearance and the fact that he was born on Chinese territories occupated by Japan - can’t imagine it to be the best place for a child to grow up in. He made a couple of close friends eventually, them being Kenichi, who couldn’t care less for Usagi’s looks, and Mariko, who also didn’t care that some people considered Usagi scary (can’t blame them with the look he can give when he’s angry - even as a child!) and even considered his red eyes to be “really pretty”. 

As a boy he, of course, grew up listening to stories of greatest samurai and their war victories, and so he would sometimes dream of becoming a war hero, great soldier, strong and respected. The perspective of inheriting his father’s business didn’t really thrilled him.

When he was a teenager, nearly coming of age, he was approached with a proposal from a “Kita” film studio. One of their representative noticed Usagi and thought his interesting appearence would look good on screen, so they offered Usagi to participate in filming. Miyamoto Sr. refused the offer, both not wanting his son to be actively involved in Japanese propoganda , since you never know which way the wind will blow, and wanting Usagi to inherit his business. Usagi, not a fun of idea, felt devastated, and left the house to clear his head. It was bright winter day outside. It was then, when a fateful meeting took place.

A stranger runs straight into Usagi, causing them both to fall. Next moment, the stranger is already helping Usagi up, and Usagi looks at him - it is a young man, around Usagi’s age, and he apologizes to him, before running away. Usagi, startled, didn’t even say anything.  But then, he notices an item, apparantely something stranger lost. It is a simple key, and Usagi picks it up. He is then approached by a group of men in police uniform,  one of them asking if Usagi saw a “runaway urchin”. Usagi says he stumbled in him and directs men the wrong way. Then, making sure they left, he follows the boy himself, only to find him not that far away, wounded. 

So, I think so far an implication of the stranger boy being Leonardo is pretty much clear. I’m not describing him in any way since it will ruin one of the plot points, and also, again, because i don’t follow any specific version of tmnt. But i think it was less clear that one of the policemen following Leo is Oroku Saki himself - i had hard time figuring out how to point him out since his appearance is always different and there’s nothing special about it either, aside from his armor, soo please share if you have any ideas how to do him. 

Then, Usagi hides the boy in the storage of his father’s shop and treats his injuries. They have a talk, in which boy talks about his home, and how it’s full white during winter, (I associate each turtle from any version with seasons, with Donnie representing spring to me, Mikey - summer, Raph - autumn, and Leo - winter, don’t fight me, i might write about it later), and how he can’t wait to go back there and be with his family in peace, once again. They also talk about war - the boy, who I now will call just Stranger, mentions that his whole family fights now, even his younger brothers, and how he will join theme soon. They also talk about hope - for better tommorow. I think this whole theme of moving along to new day fits Leo really well (ninja’s greatest weapon you guys). Eventually, Usagi asks about the key he found, but when Stranger tells that it opens the most important thing and Usagi asks to elaborate, Stranger simply promises to tell him after he comes back from Manchuria and the war ends. They make a promise to each other. 

Since then, Usagi just can’t keep the boy and his words out of his head. It’s like his whole image of the world shifted. Kenichi and Mariko even mocked him, claiming he must have fallen in love. The thought terrifies Usagi, which i suppose goes without an explanation, and he runs away from his friends in embarrassament and even horror. It is then when he finds the very same key once again, realizes something is wrong and rushes home. There he’s met with Katsuichi, who works for Miyamoto Sr. He tells Usagi of a terrible outlaw hidding in their shop and then whispers quitely that Stranger succesfully made it to train staiton. And Usagi runs there. Train leaves right in front of him. He stops there, watching the train go, with a promise to find Stranger, give him the key and learn what it opens. He remembers “Kita” studio’s proposal and thinks that if he makes it to the big screen the Stranger has chance of finding him himself.

Yuichi and Chizu follow the scene with great attention, until Yuichi shares a tear and whispers how it’s his favourite scene from that movie.

Apparently, they just “witnessed” a scene from one of Usagi’s first movies. Chizu is extreamly confused.

Later after that, Katsuichi talks with Miyamoto Sr. and they discuss what happens in West. The war, greater than any war they could have imagine, is upcoming. Usagi is considered adult now. To make sure he avoids military service, Katsuichi, not being in favor of Japan’s curent regime and not wanting Usagi to go to battlefield for it, advises to let the boy go to the film studio. Miyamoto Sr. can only agree. Thus, Usagi’s acting career begins. 

Of course, they go to film in Manchuria. On the way there, Usagi meets studio’s main director, whose last name is Mifune,  and who seems to geniully like Usagi and thinks he has talent and great future ahead of him, and curent project’s main actor Hikiji. Studio workers share that Hikiji is a cruel, slick type and apparently is in conflict with Mifune, so who knows how that is going to end. He also meets young man called Noriyuki, currently a director assistant dreaming of becoming a director himself. They become kind friends, and Usagi shares the story of the key with him, not bringing up the “in love” part of the story. 

In the current movie Usagi plays a young japanese soldier, and Hikiji’s character finds out he joined army only to find someone, currently fighting here in Manchuria. He shames boy for not serving his country properly but Usagi’s character claims that he would gladly die for his counrty, he just has to see this person, just this once again. Due to lack of expirience, Usagi sometimes lacks in perfomance, which Hikiji uses to harass the boy. Their rival starts, and it’s both terifying and pathetic how much hatred a grown man can have for one single boy. He constantly shames him, harasses him, and treats him roughly. But Usagi just keeps going, gives actually good perfomance and impresses the whole crew. News claim that more active military confrontation takes place on the north of the province. Strangely, this is where filming of the next movie takes place.

It is jidaigeki film, taking place in Heian period, where Usagi plays a guardian to the lord. After that, the narrative goes completely blended in terms of Usagi’s actaul life and his roles. In this movie, Usagi’s castle is attacked and his lord is killed, but before he can follow him to death, a strange mystical figure appears. It seems to be a man, slim, tall, looking slighlty demonic. He curses Usagi to neverending path, the one that will never give him the peace of Death.

This is when another man appears, and sends demon away. Apperantely, he is Usagi’s character friend, who is a demon queller taught in arts of sorcery. He claims that demon triked Usagi and that his lord is away somewhere else and they need to find him. 

In the next scene Usagi appears playing a samurai of a Muromachi era, who seeks to save his lord and bring revenge on their enemies. Together with a character’s comrad, a warrior no less fierce than Usagi’s character, they fight through the enemy’s ranks, when Usagi’s friend covers Usagi from the blow and thus gets killed. Usagi promises to never forget his scrifice.

Chizu watches old, “feeble” Usagi and Yuichi re-acting the scene with a great regret of being here in the first place.  This is also when she dicedes to clear if she’s not mistaken and after filming this movie Mifune was arrested for cooperating with anti-japanese forces in China and in West and “Kita” was disbanded. It appears to be true. 

(a place to insert the famous “Run” scene, unironically one of the greatest scenes in history of cinema, and not the last one from this movie!)

Usagi, as considered close to Mifune and his family, was also arested and interrogated. Memories blend once again. He’s pretty sure a familiar face was among interogatores, the one that already asked him questions once. Nevertheless, Usagi is soon released, due to lack of any proofs of his involvment.

Next follows the discussion of Japanese war forces and activities during WWII. This is a sensitive topic, so please proceed with caution and please keep in mind that I in no case have any intention to dismiss Japan’s war crimes, i’m simply portraing a person living a life through such times and figuring out a way to live through them. (I’m not making Usagi a war criminal, god please no-)

After that, Usagi and other young men from studio are sent to war. His expirience granted him possition in the Aerial Photography, within  Aviation division. There he met Gunichi, who was somewhat his mentor during his service. During the time, Japanese army was expiriencing  shortage of supplies, especially food, medicine and etc. Not to talk about casualties. Not to talk about increasing amount of kamikaze attacks closer to the end of war. Several of which Usagi witnessed. Several of which pilots he was familiar with. He was familiar with Gunichi who, as it turned out, sent those pilot to those missions. That led to a lot of conflicts and loosing a single person who he thought he could rely on. War left something in him that never could have been described. 

And then it was over. Just like that. He served for no more than 3 years, which felt like decades, only for the war to end so abruptly. It should have ended in the very first month, and it felt like it would never end. He heard of what happened to Hiroshima and Nagasaki. He just wanted to go home.

Home that was no longer his, even if rightfully so. His father and Katsuichi moved away from border, deeper into the country, to safety, each on their own now. Usagi stayed here, helping to clear all the rubble. He just needed to do something, be useful somewhere. He was so deep in his work he didn’t even realised he reached what was left of their family shop. There stood a wall of their storage. On the wall something was written. Somehow, Usagi knew who wrote this. And it cleared up everything.

あなたは一人じゃない

He moves to Tokio to reunite with Noriyuki and accept his offer to return to acting. After-war times are tought, but they just try to keep doing what they do best - to make movies. Besides, with the War over, the Stranger just has to fullfill his promise, right?

During the time, Usagi keeps playing in jigaideki movies. In a first movie directed by Noriyuki himself, Usagi plays Edo period ronin, who befriends a ninja and thus becomes a suspect in crime forced upon the said ninja. He’s interrogated, but never says anything. It’s not like he knows anything useful anyway. Later he is released with a help of his old another “shaddy” friend, a young lady who also happens to be a thief. Apparantely, she gave up all the money she stole to release him. 

Reality blends again. He is released again, and the guard, all too familiar, says they don’t need him anymore, they found the criminal anyway. Realisation hits him just as he watches familiar figure disapearing behind jail’s gates, and once again he’s not fast enough to reach him in time.

Present time Usagi doesn’t feel good. Yuichi asks if they should stop for today, but Usagi insists to keep telling the story.

After war, he also reunited with Kenichi and Mariko, with Mariko apparently waiting to meet him again all these years and Kenichi in love with Mariko. And Usagi can’t help but think that maybe this is what he actually wants. Something he must want. She is beautiful, sweet and perfect, right here. 

There is also, right here, on little chain on his neck, the key. 

When Chizu, eager for little drama, asks if they were actually a thing in the end, Usagi just says “Wouldn’t you like to know” with a funny smile. So, yeah, sorry, no confirmation or denial of Jotaro’s existance in here, but you can think it up yourself!

Usagi’s career bloomed and so the new studio he worked on - “Geishu”. He meets Tomoe Ame, who works alongside with Noriyuki. Many speculate her and Usagi to be a thing. Usagi’s father demands them to be a thing. Katsuichi points out it’s been years since him and Stranger last met. Usagi finally snaps and says he knows young man is still alive and he will find him no matter what. Even if he’s going to search forever.

It’s like a curse, honestly.

His mental state is not good, both from him overworking himself on studio, his  untreated PTSD and just overall stress. He snaps during work once, thus enraging Hikiji, for whom it’s one of his last role before he retires. To try to stay in touch with a world and reality, Usagi reaches out to the key. It’s not there.

It’s gone. 

Whole studio is on edge, trying to find the key, until one of the workers gets curious and starts asking what’s the story with the key.

The narrative switches to Usagi playing a teacher somewhere after a war, who’s trusted with a troublesome class but who eventually manages to earn their trust and respect. They ask him about his loved one. They ask him how they met. They ask him if she’s pretty.

Usagi realises he can’t even remember young man’s face. He never learned anything about him and he can’t even remember his face. 

Yuichi asks if this was when he decided to propose to Tomoe. He did, but sometime after the proposal Tomoe approached him with a gift and asking to break off the engagement. It was the key. The very same one. When asked, she explained she as at Hikiji’s place, something to do with sorting things out with his retirment, when she found this. All these years, Hikiji hated Usagi. For his spirit. For his strenght. For being able to move forward even after all these years, no matter what he did to break him. Not even after Hikiji told authorities about Mifune. 

Usagi is enranged, when a man,  whose face is slightly familiar, but only so, approaches him and says someone wants to see him. Usagi is shocked to see the same policeman who kept chasing the Stranger all this time. It’s hard to say what imprinted him more, war or post-war, but he looks terrible. He tells Usagi about the young man he captured, and how he kept a letter for Usagi and now, after the war, the man decided to atone for his crimes and was finally able to reach to Usagi and give him the letter. 

Usagi reads the letter. He can’t just stand there anymore. He spent all these years, searching, being on his way to this unknown young man. He can’t stop now. He rushes out of the studio, Yuichi and Chizu following him, but before they leave, Yuichi notices a man, the same one that announced the visitor. The man was standing above the visitor, who was on his knees, in position of deepest apologies. The man watched him silently, not moving.

Meanwhile Usagi rushes to the train station - trough the rain flooded streets, through the traffic, slipping, falling, stumblign into people, but not even noticing them. Only words from the letter replaying in his head.

“I regret never being able to thank you. I want to see you, but the war grows more intense each day. When the war is over, and the peace has come, I will go home, and I will see my family. Some day, I’d like you to meet them. I am sure they will like you. And then, I’ll show you the sky, the clear sky, just as I promised.”

It’s like he’s everyone and everywhere at the scale of time. He’s an Edo period Ronin, coming for his friend, he’s Samurai, protecting his lord, he’s a young soldier, coming through war to find his loved one, he’s even a young leuitanant who refuses to fight the giant kaiju because a person dear to him is eager to protect it.

The train Usagi takes is derailed, and he goes throug the forest by himself, not able to stop. When he reaches the road, a motorcyclist , a young man with his hair bleached white, asks if he needs a ride. Chizu chuckles, finally stating that now she can finally recognize Yuichi. 

Usagi carries on his way, going through the winter covered lands of Stranger’s home, like it’s some alien planet, where human’s foot steps for the first time. And on that planet, a single wall stands, with familiar phrase wrote unfinished. Ink leaves the trail behind the wall, and when Usagi goes there, a figure stands at horizon and waves at him awkwardly, before dissapearing fully. Usagi claims to fulfill his promise and find the Stranger, to not stop until he finds him.

***

This is the moment for me to stop you right there and show the actual scene. Usually “Run” is considered to be the most important scene in the movie, which i can’t argue with - it’s beautifully made scene that always me go heart-shape eyes.

But

This scene right here, is the epitome of the movie for me. It’s like an antipode to “Run”, with “Run” being full of ligth hope, love and joy of journey. “Actress in the time layers”, this scene, is if “Run” was filled with desperation, rush, attempt to clatch at something that slips through fingers. But it’s still, on its basis, is full of hope.

And i consider THIS scene to be the most important in the movie. 

***

During the filming of one of Usagi’s last movies, an earthquake takes place, causing filming set to colapse. Usagi gets burried under all the rubble, but a man helps him out, asks if he’s okay. Man’s face is so familiar. So familiar but never enought, it’s like demons are laughing at him. It’s his curse and his greatest joy, to keep searching.

He snaps and leaves the set. Key is forgotten there, only to that unfortunate man to pick it up.

After the incident, Usagi finally left cinema, leaving behind a huge legacy and a lot of questions which he never answered. 

When now asked by Yuichi why did he leave, Usagi shows him and Chizu the fragment of the wall with  あなたは一人じゃない writtern on it. He was no longer the boy Stranger met all those years ago. The Stranger himself definately no longer a boy himself.

Usagi’s condition gets worse, and an ambulance takes him to the hospital. While on their way there, Yuichi takes out the box where he held the key and takes out a folded paper from under it’s lining. He explains to Chizu that this letter was sent to him along with the key, but he didn’t fully understood it and so decided to first give Usagi the key and then decide what to do with the letter. 

Apparently the key and the letter were sent by a member of the Stranger’s family. In the letter, they explain that Stranger himself was killed during interrogation year before the war ended. All these years, Usagi was chasing the ghost of the dead man.

The doctors explain that Usagi won’t make it, and Yuichi and Chizu go to say their goodbyes. Yuichi gently points out that maybe now he will be finally able to meet the Stranger again. Usagi thanks them, deeply grateful for giving him the opportunity to step on this road to him again. After all, he quite enjoyed coming all this way. 

I imagine the very last scene to be him playing a ronin, stepping on his way to continue his journey forward, who knows where. It’s autumn.

***

As for Yuichi, his prototipe, Genya, also has his own character arc, and I have not forgotten about him. Within the fandom, I had my own issues with Yuichi, not with him as a character, but rather him and Usagi being used as each other’s loose change, which i think is just fundamentaly wrong in relation to both characters. Even more so, Yuichi is often portrait as if he does not have his own character, so he has tendancy to be portrait as wanted by each fan differently. Which i don’t want to frame as something forbidden or blasphemy, but it’s just something that i’m uncomfortable with. And so, practically, i made the main arc for Yuichi in this story - which is to come to terms with his own self. Throughout the story, he wears masks of other characters that appear in Usagi’s movies - he chooses to be anyone but himself - scrawny kid who just really loves this movie star and his works. And his journey with Usagi is a path to himself, to who he is at the end.

*** 

I hope you liked this concept, trust me, it was much better in my head, and i know i made a mistake trying to express this story in words, because it heavily relies on visual storytelling, especially through montage. So, here’s the thing - if you liked the premise, go watch the movie, and just visualise it. Trust me, it’s so worth it, with Con’s vision brought to life, beautiful animation and Susumu Hirasawa’s magnificent soundtrack.

Thanks for reading!!!  

[chicgeekgirl89]

Packing a Piece

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

Rating: T

Summary: 

“Yeah, I’m not really a talk-it-out kind of person,” T.K. mumbles around the lip of the glass as he takes a sip.

“So I’ve noticed,” Carlos tells him, a knowing smile on his face. “I believe your motto is ‘punch first, questions later?’”

“You’re never going to let that go, huh?” T.K. asks, wincing at the reminder of his recent bar brawl.

“The image of you in handcuffs, looking like a cranky, beat up alley cat? Probably not.”

A/N: I always love the early days of a ship. The will they/won't they. The longing looks. The miscommunications. Here for all of it. So when a happy little fic involving the darts scene came into my brain, I took it and ran. Also this fic has one of the dirtiest lines I've ever written, so if my mom ever finds this...I'm sorry.

Read on AO3

This was not how he’d planned to spend the evening. He glares across the room at Judd Ryder, chomping on the straw in his drink as the activity of the bar swirls around him. God, he’s literally never met someone more infuriating, someone more rude…who the hell does this guy think he is?

“Your turn.”

Carlos’ voice draws T.K. back to the game at hand and he looks up to see the other man smiling as he holds out a couple of darts. Right. He’s on a date. One he should definitely have said no to given his current fury at his teammate.

Two hours ago he’d stormed out of the firehouse and run smack dab into a firm torso. 

Strong arms grabbed hold of him to keep him from toppling over. “Whoa,” Carlos said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” T.K. said, distracted by his bad mood. He just wanted to get out of here and as far away from Judd as he possibly could.

“Trying to add assaulting an officer to your rap sheet?” Carlos asked.

That got his attention and the uncertainty must have shown on his face because Carlos smiled. “I’m kidding.”

“Right,” T.K. said. He frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Carlos actually blushed and it was so fucking cute it made T.K.’s heart skip a beat. “Oh, I, um, I…kind of came to see if you’d give me another shot.”

T.K. raised his eyebrows. 

“Listen, I—I guess I wasn’t completely honest with you, or myself,” Carlos said. “The one night stand, fuck buddies kind of thing…it’s not me. And I don’t want to put any pressure on you or anything but…I like you. So I thought I would take my chances and see if you wanted to go on a date. With me. Tonight.”

The word “date” immediately made T.K. balk. That wasn’t a lifestyle he wanted anymore. Love ‘em and leave ‘em seemed like a much better, less heartbreaking option. Plus he’d already bared far more of his soul to Carlos than he was comfortable with during his brief incarceration. Better to walk away while he still had at least a little dignity left.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he said slowly.

“Just one drink,” Carlos urged. “Well, I mean, not a DRINK drink, obviously because…” His hands fluttered around aimlessly as he tried to recover from his verbal fumble and he let out a nervous half chuckle. “Okay I told myself I wouldn’t screw this up, but I guess I did. So, never mind. It’s fine.”

The sight of strong, brawny, hot-as-hell Officer Reyes looking for all the world timid and shy made him weak. “Okay,” he’d said before he could stop himself.

Carlos had frozen. “Really?”

How could he say no to those beautiful, soft, guileless brown eyes? And he really did kind of owe the guy after being such a dick the last couple times they’d been together.“Yeah. Sure. Let’s grab a drink or whatever.”

And now here he is, in a bar, pissed as hell, and the subject of his ire is across the room, further souring his mood. He can’t even have a date in peace. Judd “Stop Acting Like the Coach’s Son” Ryder has to ruin that too.

He needs to relax, to blow off some steam, and forget that the people working alongside him at the firehouse are the most judgmental, ass-backward, hillbillies he’s ever met. And hopefully, if he plays his cards right, there will be some blowing of other things later. Judging by the way Carlos keeps checking out his ass when he thinks T.K.’s not looking, his chances seem pretty good.

Although T.K. might ruin everything if he keeps complaining. Nobody wants a cranky lay.

“You know, if I was a less secure man, I might be bothered by the fact that I worked up the nerve to ask you out, and you’ve spent the entire night talking about another guy,” Carlos finally says after T.K. mouths off yet again. 

He should apologize. But he doesn’t. Instead he presses on, practically goading Carlos into calling time of death on this miserable date over his assholery. He doesn’t deserve to be with someone as good as Carlos anyway. This is the third time in a row that he’s been a jerk to the man, and he really doesn’t understand why the guy keeps coming back for more. 

A tiny voice in the back of T.K.’s mind whispers that he’s self-sabotaging yet again, but he tells it to shut up and reminds it that at least he’s not shooting up or getting the crap beat out of him to deal with it this time. 

“You think he’s right?” he asks. It’s a challenge, a test, one designed to make Carlos fail so T.K. can prove to the world that he’s still a screw-up that no one could possibly ever want.

Carlos doesn’t say anything, just tosses another couple darts at the board, then waits for T.K. to go collect them.

“Do you?” he finally asks.

It makes T.K.’s blood boil. Because yeah, that is one of his greatest fears. That he’s only here because of his dad. That he’ll never be good enough on his own. And he doesn’t like anyone to push on that particularly tender part of his ego. “You know I’m holding a dart?” he says, sending Carlos a pointed look.

Carlos’ answer is immediate. “And I’m packing a piece.”

T.K. freezes in surprise at the snappy response. It’s just enough to break through his inner monologue and get him to fully pay attention to the gorgeous, completely ripped, incredibly good at sex stuff, man in front of him. “That’s hot,” he says, thoughts of Judd Ryder and his terrible day slowly melting away.

Carlos gives him a charming little smile. “Do I finally have your attention now?”

T.K. leans closer, amusement and desire swirling in his gut. “Yes.”

“Good.” Carlos cocks his head to the side and then swipes the dart from T.K.’s hand. “Because I want you fully present when I kick your ass.”

Carlos does kick his ass, not a surprise considering the man wears a gun as part of his uniform. But T.K. doesn’t do too badly either. And despite the fact that he came into this with a chip on his shoulder…it’s fun. Carlos is sweet and snarky and unbelievably good. He’s kind to T.K., the bar staff, the people who walk by. And god help him, T.K. feels something stirring inside himself that he’d thought had died on the floor of his New York apartment five months ago.

“Okay, how are you doing that?” T.K. asks when Carlos hits his sixth or seventh bullseye of the night.

“Practice,” Carlos says with a shrug. “I can show you if you want.”

He steps up behind T.K., his lips right by T.K.’s ear as he speaks. “Relax your body,” he says, his hands skimming gently over T.K.’s frame, positioning him just so. “I like to line my shoulder up with the bull’s eye.”

The warmth of his breath on T.K.’s neck causes goosebumps to rise along his skin. Carlos’ hips bump up against him and he sucks in a sharp breath. This is…beyond a turn-on. 

“Then you just draw back and let it go,” he says, giving T.K. a quick pat on the ass before he steps back. “Go get ‘em champ.”

The heat T.K. was feeling seconds ago immediately turns into annoyance at the obvious reference to Judd’s words. He sends Carlos a scowl. “I’m glad my workplace harassment is funny to you.” 

“Are you going to take the shot? Or should I have your dad come over here and coach you from the sidelines?” Carlos asks, a sassy grin on his face as he needles T.K.

T.K. rolls his eyes, but he draws his arm back and gives the dart a toss. It hits only millimeters off of center.

“Nice,” Carlos says. “Keep practicing and maybe next time you’ll beat me.”

Next time. Like this isn’t a one time thing. Like Carlos wants to see him again even though T.K. has tried his damndest to fuck this evening up. Who the hell is this guy?

“So I was thinking—“

“You want to get out of here?” T.K. asks, cutting him off.

“Yes,” Carlos says immediately. “Let me close our tab.”

He’s back in less than two minutes and then it’s a short drive to his place where they immediately lose themselves in an already familiar rhythm of lips and hands and teeth and skin. 

“Well that was fun,” Carlos says when they’re both laid flat out on his bed, a satisfied smile on his face as he pulls his briefs back into place.

“You deserved some fun after I was such a crappy date,” T.K. tells him as he reaches for his own briefs, which have gotten hung up on a lamp.

Carlos’ face immediately drops. “Wait, you didn’t—T.K. you didn’t come over here because you felt obligated to, right?”

God this man is so damn good, it almost physically pains him. “No,” T.K. says quickly. “No, I—that’s not what I meant I was just…”

“Because if you felt like I pressured you into any of what just happened or thought I had some kind of expectation—“

“No, Carlos, it’s okay,” T.K. says, reaching out and putting a hand on his thigh for reassurance. “I was being self deprecating. I promise, I wanted everything we just did as much as you.”

Carlos relaxes. “Okay good.” He looks down at T.K.’s hand. “You’re really hard on yourself, you know that?”

“Not hard enough according to Judd,” T.K. says with a roll of his eyes, then inwardly cringes for bringing that up again. He truly is a terrible date. No wonder Alex left him for someone else.

“Have you ever thought that maybe whatever Judd is saying, it’s not about you?”

The question catches him by surprise and so does the earnestness in Carlos’ eyes. “What else could it be about?” T.K. asks.

Carlos shrugs. “His marriage. Money. His truck.”

T.K. snorts a laugh. “You think he bit my head off because he’s upset about his truck?”

“You’re in Texas now. Men love their trucks. Sometimes more than their wives,” Carlos tells him as he gets up and heads into the bathroom. “What I’m saying is, usually when people are mad, it’s about more than what they say it is.” He returns with two glasses of water, one of which he hands to T.K. “I’ve known Judd a long time. He’s a good guy. And he’s been through a lot lately. Might be worth it to try and talk it out.”

“Yeah, I’m not really a talk-it-out kind of person,” T.K. mumbles around the lip of the glass as he takes a sip.

“So I’ve noticed,” Carlos tells him, a knowing smile on his face. “I believe your motto is ‘punch first, questions later?’”

“You’re never going to let that go, huh?” T.K. asks, wincing at the reminder of his recent bar brawl.

“The image of you in handcuffs, looking like a cranky, beat up alley cat? Probably not,” Carlos says, leaning back and giving T.K. a spectacular view of all the muscles in his abdomen. The man is built like a freaking god.

“An alley cat? Seriously?” he asks.

Carlos shrugs. “I saw what I saw.”

“You’re very lucky that you’re hot,” T.K. tells him with a roll of his eyes. He takes a peek as his phone. “I should probably get going.”

“Or…”

“Or…what?”

Carlos leans forward and presses a searing kiss to his lips. “Or you could stay a little longer. And give me a new memory of you in handcuffs,” he says, soft eyes going dark and stormy.

T.K. stays.

“I had a good time tonight,” Carlos says a couple hours later as he walks T.K. to the door. He had made it very clear that T.K. could stay over but…he’s not there yet.

“Good,” T.K. says, throwing on a cocky smile. “I’d hate to think all my hard work upstairs was for nothing.”

Carlos gives him an exasperated look. “I mean the whole thing T.K. The date, the sex, all of it.”

“You are not going to tell me you think tonight falls into the category of a ‘good date,’” T.K. says incredulously. “I was being a dick the entire time.”

Carlos shrugs. “You had a rough day. It happens. I still had fun.” He steps forward and runs a finger flirtatiously down T.K.’s chest, toying with the top button of his shirt. “Besides, I like being someone who can put a smile back on your face.”

Stunned is an understatement. This is…he’s really not used to being treated like this. Like he’s allowed to have bad moments. Like maybe Carlos isn’t going to just use him and then walk away. Like maybe Carlos actually…likes him. Not just tolerates him or wants him for sex.

“Can I see you again? Maybe this weekend?” Carlos asks, that sweet, innocent look in his eyes. The one that turns the “no” in T.K.’s throat into a “yes” by the time it reaches his tongue.

T.K. nods, uncertainty shifting around inside him like the open seas in a storm. “Yeah.”

“Great.” Carlos smiles and then leans in, capturing T.K.’s lips in a soft kiss. “It’s a date.”

T.K.’s mind whirls as he slips into his cab. What the hell is happening to him?

[domainofnao]

When their S/O is confined and have a big bruise on both of their antecubital area due to repetitive drawing of blo*d

Warnings: Mentions of br*ises, blo*d, h*spitals

Tags: Oikawa, Fluff

A/N: Will be posting other characters and stories soon on AO3

Intro:

-You’re confined in the hospital for days and nurses had to draw blood almost everyday for various lab testing. This day though, is (probably) the last, they have to make sure that the results are returned to normal before allowing you to be discharged.

-Both of your antecubital area is now bruised and even if you have a high pain tolerance, it is starting to mess with your brain every time they come in early in the morning to draw blood. It is adding to your mental strain after being alone in the ICU for almost a week. 

-Your anxiety was starting to creep in, making you more scared than hurt because seeing or imagining the needle pushing through your black and blue skin makes you wince, just wanting someone to comfort you.

OIKAWA

You chuckle lightly. His sleeping face is still as adorable as ever, you’d never get tired seeing it. It’s such a big difference from when he’s awake. It’s like seeing an overly passionate and energetic child calm down when they see their favourite blanket and decide to go to sleep. 

“Why are you still awake?” As if he felt someone staring at him, he opened his eyes to search the room, only for them to land on yours. His body almost folded in half as he tried to fit his six footer self on the small visitors’ bed. You honestly feel bad, you tried to convince him to lie down beside you but he won’t budge. Teasing you, saying that he’s not allowed to get sick. (Even though your sickness is not contagious).  

“Not sleepy.” Shuffling of the blanket surrounded the room when he sat up. He slips on his slippers and walks towards you who is adjusting the position of your lower body, allowing space to open up for him. 

“Why? Do you need something?” He sat down, hands rubbing up and down your arm. 

You hummed. “A hug please.” He chuckles, bringing his upper body down to you. You slipped your arms around him and tilted your head slightly, letting him nuzzle on your neck. 

“Why’s my wife suddenly needy?” He teases, kissing the skin of your clavicle softly. 

You rub his back up and down. “I’m just feeling weak.” Oikawa shot his head up and stared at you with an unexplainable emotion. You stared at each other for a while when it suddenly clicked to you. 

“No!” You chuckled, gripping his arms. “I meant mentally.” You tug him close to you and hug him again. “The bruises on my inner arms look nasty you know. And they’ll need another blood sample later. Just thinking of the needle near my arms is scary.” 

He hummed and started caressing your cheeks. “I’ll hold your hand later. Just look at me okay?” He whispered, kissing your lips softly, then your left cheek. “I’ll give you rewards later.” 

“I want a cookie.” 

He gasped, looking at you with disbelief. “Not kisses?!”

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. “Are you telling me I have to do something for you to kiss me? Not just because I want to have kisses and cuddles? HMPH!” You being his partner for so long made you unconsciously emulate his sulking and diva personality. Even his pouting, furrowing his eyebrows, and head turning habit. 

Seeing this, an exact copy of his annoying self, made him laugh. If both of you are like this then what will make of your future child? They’d be much sulky and more diva than the both of you combined. 

“Pfft! Okay, okay. I’m just joking Y/N.” He held your hand, entangling them together. The other, tucking your hair behind your ear after ruffling it. “I’ll give you cuddles and kisses whenever you want. And cookies for following the doctor’s orders.” 

He stood, going back to his makeshift bed, looking for his phone before sittin on your bed again. “Why cookies all of the sudden tho?” 

“The hospital gave me one during my time in the ICU. It’s like I’ve been rewarded by being strong, you know?”

“I see.” He smiled to himself, his heart squeezes at your reason. My wife is such a cutie. He hands you his phone and grinned at you. “Pick what flavour you like. I’ll order now. Can’t let my wife be sad.” 

You happily took his phone and added to the cart the flavours you wanted. “Thank you, love.” You said, smiling softly at him. Tooru has more or less always provided your needs and wants, the only exception was when he knows you have nearly the same thing in the house. Yes, he will spoil you to death but he knows how to save money due to him going independent from a young age. You admire this trait of his. 

He scheduled the delivery at 8 am. That should be the time where you have already finished breakfast. “Hey babe, it’s getting real late. Let’s sleep even for a while, okay?” He stated, not leaving room for your whines. But of course you whine. Playfully tho, to which he just laughed at. He grabbed the chair at the corner and placed it in front of your bed. 

“Sleep. I’ll hold your hand, okay?” 

“Later too?”

“Whenever you want, my love.”

[jujutsuflavoredpeach]

PART IV (I) - AS HE IS

Pairing Inumaki Toge x fem!reader

Other characters Shoko Ieiri, Zen'in Maki, Okkotshu Yuta, Kiyotaka Ijichi, Panda Content angst, hurt, longing, anger, struggle, love, fluff, jealousy, friendship Warnings jjk MANGA SPOILERS, CULLING GAME SPOILERS, self-loathing, mentions of blood, comatose state, mild curse words Note FOURTH PART (II) >>  ﹢PART IV (II) - AS HE IS﹢

❀ ¡Hello there! Here's PART IV (I) of AS HE IS. I've divided it into two parts, not because I wanted to, but because Tumblr is being an asshole. I guess it is meant to be that way this time, although I really wanted this to be just one chapter. If you are reading this: ∗ ࣪ ˖ ♡ ˖ ࣪ ∗I APPRECIATE YOU BEING HERE.∗ ࣪ ˖ ♡ ˖ ࣪ ∗ ¡Hope you like it! ❀

Togue felt a pair or arms holding him up, and then he felt his body drop against the cushioned surface of the armchair. Falling in and out of conscioussnes, he tried to look over his shoulder to see if he had succeeded in doing something, but the swelling in his throat wouldn't allow it. Even his chest and neck hurt.

He kept his eyes closed, breathing slowly to try and calm himself down, focusing on anything in the room that would take over the subtle but annoying ringing that wouldn't leave his ears.

He heard Ijichi and Shoko's muffled voices coming and going from the other side of the room.

'…the part of her brain…suppossed to recieve… command was shielded'

'…cursed energy… ¿In her brain?'

Toge caught her words and opened his eyes. He moved in his seat, drawing their attention, watching as Shoko left the spot behind her desk to stand in front of him.

"Listen Inumaki, There still might be a chance." she slid her hands down the pockets of her white coat. "Get yourself cleaned up, Ijichi will get you some medicine. I have to think this through and I'm going to need your help to dive into this matter."

Toge winced, standing up from his seat to grab a pen and paper.

'I WANT TO DO IT NOW.'

"We can't right now, we need to pull ourselves together Inum-"

He pressed the pen even harder against the paper, writing down his words with a shaky hand.

'¡THERE IS NO TIME!'

Toge started to panick right then and there. Trying to contain himself this time, as he was on the verge of exhaustion. You were still lying there like a carcass, slowly fading away. He furrowed his brows and gritted his teeth.

'Even if it kills me I won't giv-'  his thoughts were cut off as he was talking a step towards you, with his lips parted and a hand encircling his throat. Ready to try and get you out of the depths one more time.

"Inumaki, stop being a selfish brat."

Toge's eyes widened, turning to look at Shoko. He got taken aback by the smile plastered on her face, but it didn't last long before it turned into a cold hard stare. Even Ijichi who was standing on the side, being quiet as a mouse, couldn't help but let out a barely audible gasp.

"¿Why are you here?" asked Shoko "Pressure, loss of oxygen, trauma, unconsciousness, bleeding, seizures… "Answer me. ¿Why are you here?"

He was frozen in place as she circled around him.

"Think long and hard." she continued, as she slowly paced around the room, looking here and there at nothing in particular. "Because you've been so far up your own ass, that you haven't even noticed why is it that your bodies are not layed next to each other in my morgue."

Togue gulped hard as he listened to her words, feeling his saliva slide down the walls of his battered throat.

"You know, the damage inflicted on a brain by the power of cursed speech…" she said bobbing her head up and down "It's something that not even my reversed technique can fix. Y/n's mind is dangerous, hostile territory, even for you."

His eyes wandered until his vision was aligned with the image that's been torturing him for the past day. You.

"I don't have to tell you that of course, you know that, but still, you want to keep mutilating yourself without stopping to think for just a second. ¿Have you forgotten who you are standing with in this room right now?"

They were now face to face.

"¿You didn't mean it didn't you?"

'¿Is she feeling underestimated? ¿At a time… like this?' Toge thought, sporting a puzzled look on his face.

"The attack I mean, I was there. You half-assed it." she said matter of factly. Toge raised a brow in confusion. "Maki's words, not mine. Your attack was out of frustration and you weren't thinking straight. She was hit by such a high, unexpected impact because of the mixed feelings you projected onto the cursed energy that you spat at her."

Toge looked over at Shoko's desk. He made his way around it sitting on her chair, looking for a pen and paper once more, and started to answer her question.

'I didn't mean it, but still, it was my command that attacked her brain.' he turned the notepad to her looking up into her eyes.

"¿What about the side effects?"

Toge turned the notepad to him once more to give her an aswer.

'It affected me too. I hurt my throat. I bled.'

"You did. ¿But you didn't feel funny afterwards? I mean afterwards…" she winked at him in that last part, and then he realized what she meant. Leaning into Shoko's chair, Toge just sat there with his eyes fixed on your image again. "¿Now you get it?"

'¿How?' he scribbled down

"That's exactly what I've been asking myself since yesterday."

Shoko was right.

Even if it could've been much worse, even if he had a powerful technique on his side, when he woke up the day before he just didn't see himself being able to do pretty much anything. Not as a sorcerer, and definitely not as someone that could be there for you. Someone with a pair of big strong arms that could lift you up and spin you around as many times as you wanted. Someone to lift you up when you needed it.

'You look mad at me…' 'Not mad, just worried. I'm sorry.' 'Don't be sorry, thanks for helping me Toge.'

He always helped you with his own two hands. But now, he'd just hit rock bottom, getting himself lost by getting lost in you, possibly hurting your insides even more. He also gave Shoko a hard time, instead of trying to figure things out with her. Maybe having figured something out to save you before things got worse. The others were scattered across Tokyo trying to set Gojo free fom the seal, fighting and risking their lives, and they were counting on you both as a part of the team. Maki thought of you as a sister. Life as a jujutsu sorcerer meant a great deal of things that didn't make any of you much softer around the edges. Everything was thrown at you and you just had to deal with it. Not even dying by yourself was something that could be rehearsed. But you were not alone, you were with him. He knew that if the others saw you right now, like this, they wouldn't want to lose you either.

'They'd be trying to help.'

Toge shivered at the though of having to tell them that they had lost you. And it would've been all his fault.

'Inumaki, stop being a selfish brat' he told himself with his inner voice.

"¿So? ¿What's your take on this?" Shoko pulled him back to the conversation.

After writing a few things, he handed her the notepad.

'First. I'm sorry. Second. Yuta.'

"Apology accepted." she said with a tired grin. "But ¿Yuta?"

'Cursed energy… In her brain.' he wrote down across the notepad.

Shoko's eyes widened.

'That was delicious.' Yuta said rubbing his stomach. '¡Thanks so much Y/n!' 'It's the least I can do since you've been helping me out a lot.' you gave him a big smile. '¿Should we do it some more now that we are finished here?' he said stretching his hand out so you could get up from the picnic blanket. '¿Are you feeling okay?' '¿After dessert? Yes, I always feel okay.' you laughed. He did too, still holding your hand in his. Without realizing it, the blanket had twisted around your ankle and you stumbled forward as you took another step, but Yuta had already caught you in his arms. '¡I got you! It's fine. The blanket just ate your foot. Let me get that for you.' You blushed a little at his gentleness and the fact that he was just an overall good hearted person, besides, you were embarrassed. Toge didn't see it that way though, at least not from where he was sitting, watching the two of you eat your superbly delicious food that you cooked to Yuta as a 'Thank you' for some 'Very important favor that he made you', leaving Toge trembling on his seat, utterly jealous and annoyed. '¡Looking too much into it! Panda spoke in a singsong. 'Your eyes are going to fall out of their sockets.' said Maki, stretching her limbs before getting into some friendly action, seeing as it was training day. '¡Look alive Inumaki! You are the one in charge of points today.' Toge huffed against the fabric of his collar, with his eyes still attached to your little interactions with the dark blue eyed boy. When Yuta arrived at the campus about a month ago, you barely crossed paths. You were ecstatic to see him of course, everyone missed him big time. In fact, you were the one in charge of his 'Welcome Home' party, as he had been missioning abroad, but it wasn't like you were spending each of your days attached to the hip. But things suddenly changed. Toge noticed a shift in your behaviour, you seemed a little more uptight, mostly keeping to yourself, and not very talkative around him. '¿What is it that you do?' he wrote to you once. 'Uh…' When he saw you blush, he panicked, praying for a simple answer that wouldn't hurt the little butterflies in his stomach. 'We just go for walks and… We haven't seen each other in so long. ¿You know? The stories about his travels are…¡Quite something!' you were wide eyed, rambling, trying to come up with something clever. Failing successfully. '¿Twice a day? ¿Everyday?' Toge held up the notepad right in front of your face, trying not to look so impatient. 'Well, you know… He is… Toge, look, I-' Just as you were about to say anything other than an excuse to him, Megumi appeared at the door letting you guys know that the pizza had arrived. '¿Are you hungry?' you asked. Toge nodded as he emited a large sigh. '¡I'm starving! ¿Talk later?' you smiled at him with an apologetic look to which he nodded. In the end, he never got the answer that he so desperately craved for. You just left him hanging, and he didn't push you. It's not like he had the right to, seeing as the two of you were close friends and nothing else. Toge thought that if you were dating Yuta, you'd definitely keep it as a secret from him because you'd felt nervous about it, maybe even embarrassed. He thought it wasn't surprising though, that you would end up dating with someone who could actually use his own mouth. Everytime he'd see you go out in search of Yuta his stomach would drop, and you were already with a foot outside the door by the time he would take out his pen and notepad, just to try and feign some interest, so that at least he would know where you were going. A few days later, he caught your sillhouette passing right in front of his bedroom door. As he peeked outside, he could see you rushing down the hall. 'Ungodly hour.' he thought, as his heart dropped once again, thinking of how you'd chosen those late hours of the night to secretly meet with Yuta. But he'd probably do the same if he had the chance, so he wasn't kidding anyone. He was losing sleep in some other ways, like thinking how jumpy you had become around him, and the insane amount of hours you'd spend sleeping on your free time, instead of doing something fun, like you used to. He was tired of having to witness your "eat, sleep, kill curses, date Yuta." cicle always on repeat. Toge knew you very well, he knew that you were always counting on him to trust you, and viceversa, but things were starting to get out of hand. Whatever you were doing was taking a toll on you, and he took that as his excuse for going after you that night. It wasn't as if Yuta was being careful with you anyways, keeping you up until late, not giving you space, not letting you rest, and you always having to run after him, instead of him chasing you like he was doing in that moment. All of a sudden, thinking that he didn't feel so proud of himself either, he realised he was standing in the middle of the baseball field. He looked around taking in the peaceful atmosphere, only the murmur of the leaves being carressed by the wind could be heard in the distance. His ears tickled at the feeling. He'd spent so much time in his room the last couple of weeks that he had forgotten all about being outside. He was perfectly capable of spending time on his own, but it would go by so quickly if you weren't there. It was only one blink of an eye after the other. Little periods of time without the presence of you in between them. Things were simply boring without you, they didn't mean much. The hair on the back of Toge's neck bristled instantly, as he felt an energy all too familiar around him. His demeanor changed, taking a fighting stance and bringing his hand to the zipper of his collar. He closed his eyes, disipating the mind and lowering his breathing, this time taking on his sorroundings fully. As the wind quitened, the last strands of his hair fell back into place, and then it was clear to him. The murmurs weren't coming for the trees now, but from behind the bleechers of the baseball field. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed what little saliva he had left in his mouth. He took a deep breath, slowly approaching the tiered rows of benches, until he was able to distinguish a figure in between the planks. The side of Yuta's face came into vision, as he was grazed by the silver light of the moon. Toge could see him only from the nose up, due to a metal beam that hid the lower part of his features. He was looking down with his eyebrows furrowed, concentrating on his words. The whispers were barely audible. 'This energy, it can't be.' Toge adjusted his vision again, trying to make something out of what Yuta was trying to do. And then he heard it. A femenine giggle, your cute little giggle, as he saw the corners of Yuta's eyes softly turn upwards. He was smiling too. Toge was regretting having done this, but now he was frozen in place and there was nothing he could do. 'Now let's try this, but it's going to get just a little harder from now on. ¿Okay?' he heard him tell you in a soft of voice. Toge's eyes widened in anticipation, until he heard Yuta speak to you once more in a much harsher tone. Only one word. 'Move' 'Ah- I… ¡It hurts!' When Toge heard what sounded like a tiny little whimper escaping your mouth, it was endgame for him. His palms immediately turned into a pair of rage induced fists, as he rushed to the back of the bleachers with a face scrunched up to the brim with wrathfulness. But if there was one thing that Yuta didn't leave the house with was his own spirit. Rika had appeared in front of him, ready to do anything Yuta wanted her to, but something was off. You weren't there and Yuta stood motionless with a hand over his mouth, without even moving a muscle. Looking more surprised than anyhting else. '¡Ah! Toge, you got me I was doing uh-' Yuta tried to shy away from him, but a part of his face was hit by the light of the moonlight, and Toge saw one bit of the Snake and Fangs seal that must've been on Yuta's face since the beggining. The part of him the beam didn't allow him to see. '¿But where is she?' Toge stared at him, as he saw the black marks fading away in between the cracks of his fingers. Before he could even make a gesture, he heard a voice calling out to them from outside the field. '¡Toge! ¡Yuta! ¡¿What the hell are you doing on the baseball field at this hour?!' Toge felt his spirit leave his body as he turned around and saw it was you, clinging at the mesh with one hand and the other tucked away in your sweatshirt. Toge turned to Yuta, absolutely baffled, trying to come to terms with the fact that he was about to kick his ass five minutes ago. 'Ah- I was,… ¡Me and Rika! ¡Trying new stuff!' Yuta said scratching the back of his neck, showing his signature good boy smile. '¿What are you doing here?' 'I was running, you know. I uh… Haven't been sleeping well so, you know, whatever.' 'Whatever, she says. Yeah right.' Toge thought to himself, shaking his head in complete disbelief. 'She is making me crazy.'

"Yuta can replicate your ability to use cursed speech." Shoko mumbled under her breath.

Toge realised it now. He realised it all.

[hanoella]

Deserving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x healer!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: When someone bad mouths Bucky in your presence, you set things straight.

Warnings: Angst, but with happy ending, and one vaguely 18+ insult? I'm new.

Speaking of- @wkemeup has inspired me to post my writing for the first time! For their 9k writing challenge, I used this prompt:

"Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]"

Enjoy!

..........

Bucky was used to the whispers he got from people the street when he passed by them.

“Is that-?”

“Don’t make eye contact, he’s dangerous.”

“They just let him walk around like he hasn’t killed a bunch of people?”

His enhanced hearing picked up more than he wished it did. He liked to believe it didn’t bother him but deep down it did. It was just one more reason to stay secluded. Isolated. Alone. And he had been successfully doing that.

Until you came along.

Having been the test subject of a super serum version that focused on health and regeneration, you used your healing powers to help the Avengers get back to world-saving shape. Bucky hadn’t been keen on anyone touching him, much less someone he didn’t know. Despite his best efforts, he had caved in when you noticed he was having a bad day with his shoulder and offered to help. Since then, your companionship has been like a guilty pleasure.

You had this way of making him feel like he was the most important person in the world to you. Regardless of what he thought was evident, you only seemed to notice the good in him, even when he protested.

“There’s nothing I can do to right the wrongs that I’ve committed. Redemption isn’t possible. I don’t deserve-”

“Stop.” You said, cutting him off. “You are amazing. You have been through everything that you’ve been through and you still give back to the world. You fight for a world that made you this way, a world that gives you nothing back and yet you fight. It’s the world that doesn’t deserve you.”

Bucky swallowed hard. Looking at you in your eyes, he saw no dishonesty. Only pure admiration.

After that, there was no hope of him being alone. You cracked open his shell slowly but surely and now Bucky couldn’t imagine life without you.

Which led him to his current predicament.

“Come on, please? It’ll be so good and only a few blocks away. I know tapioca sounds gross, but you’ll love it!”

Bucky didn’t know what bubble tea was but apparently it was worth begging him for the past 20 minutes while you worked on his shoulder. Your hands emitted a warm white light as you gently massaged his shoulder. The direct contact wasn’t necessary but Bucky hadn’t complained when you started doing it and it’s become routine every since.

“I don’t know. I know I’m old but I don’t have to resort to tapioca yet.”

Bucky let a moment pass before his lip twitched up into a smile. You feigned annoyance as you cut off the healing and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“How about you go with me and I won’t bill the heck out of you for my magical five-star massages.” You say as you squeeze his shoulders.

“Okay okay, fine.”

Bucky put his hands up in defeat as he got up from the couch he was sitting on and turned to face you.

You swallowed as you let your eyes drift across his chest before you grabbed his shirt from off the back of the couch and tossed it to him.

“Alright! I’m so excited!”

Bucky listened to you chatter on about the different flavors he could try while he put on his shirt. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe he actually had a friend besides Steve. Sure, it helped that you had been Steve’s friend first. But there was something about you having grown closer to him that made him feel special. Never did Bucky think there would be a time that he’d be jealous over a girl that Steve was friends with rather than the other way around. Times were certainly different.

“You coming?”

Bucky broke away from his thoughts and made his way towards the doorway that you were standing in.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

---

Yeah, he knew this was a bad idea.

As soon as you two had left Stark Tower, the whispers started. While the café was only two blocks away, you noticed something was off a block into the trip.

“You alright?” You asked as you tried to decipher his facial expression.

“Yeah. Fine.”

You looked at him skeptically and then shifted your eyes to follow his, glancing around you. You slowly nodded in understanding as you looked at the people around you who were trying not to draw attention to themselves.

“Okay. We can talk about it later.”

Bucky was thankful that most people talked quietly enough so that you couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Keyword: Most.

You two arrived at the café, where it was slightly crowded. It was a warm afternoon, the perfect time to get a cool drink. Before heading inside, you gently placed your hand on his arm for a moment to reassure him.

“If you want, we could look at the menu out here and then I’ll go inside to order it.”

Bucky shifted his weight slightly from one side to the other as he contemplated it.

“Nah. We can go in together.”

“Okay.” you said, gently smiling to hopefully reassure him.

You both enter the building and make your way to stand in line. Bucky looked around at the seating areas. It reminded him of a Starbucks but with a more pastel color scheme. You looked at him and he raised an eyebrow in response. You smiled, happy that he was with you. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled back.

That’s when you hear it.

“Is that that Hydra goon? Hey, go back to Siberia you brainwashed Hydra dog!”

You spun around violently the same time Bucky did with an incredulous look on your face, making eye contact with the college aged boy further back in line who was currently sniggering with his friends.

You stalked over to them before speaking in a low even tone.

“Sergeant Barnes has done more for the world than you could ever dream of doing. Apologize.”

You had let the venom creep into your voice, shouting the last word and silencing the rest of the line. Bucky walked up to you and put a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn your attention to him.

“C’mon. It’s not worth it.”

You let out a slow harsh exhale from your nose but didn’t move. The man only sneered.

“Why don’t you scurry along. I don’t care if you’re where he sticks his-”

The next thing Bucky registered was a nasty sounding crack as your fist connected with the jerk’s cheekbone. A round of gasps came from the surrounding crowd as he fell on the floor, completely dazed. You let out a pained grunt as you bent over, holding your hand while trying to cover the white light that started coming over your hand where the skin had bust open and something had definitely cracked.

“Okay, time to go.” Bucky said as he made an executive decision to get you two the heck out of there before anybody could react further. He put his hand on your back and quickly guided you out of the store, walking until you were out of the vicinity and almost back to the tower. You could tell that Bucky was not happy with you since he hadn’t said anything the whole way back. You entered the building and then stood silently in the elevator as it made its way up, refusing to meet his eye.

The elevator dinged as it opened up on the team’s dorm floor. You both walked quickly trying to avoid other people unsuccessfully as Sam stepped out into the hallway from the gym.

“Hey you two, what’re you… What happened to you?” He asked with a furrowed brow, nodding his head towards your hand as you walked past. Bucky and you answered at the same time.

“Nothing-”

“None of your business Sam-”

You gave Bucky a look and started chastising him.

“Hey, don’t be mean to him just because-”

“Keep. Walking.” He said through clenched teeth.

You rolled you eyes and shrugged apologetically at Sam as Bucky punched in the code to your apartment and swung the door open. He nudged you inside and then followed, shutting the door forcefully behind him.

Sam looked down the hall for a moment longer before shrugging it off. Natasha popped her head out into the hallway from the gym.

“What’s all the commotion?”

“Not sure. I think Mr. Tall, Dark and Metal left a few brain cells behind in the pod the last time he was frozen.”

Natasha snorted and then turned back into the gym.

---

Bucky closed the door behind him and then swung his arms out in confusion, giving you the same look of disbelief that he gives Yori when he starts a fight with his neighbors. You gave him the same look back, as if he was crazy for questioning your actions.

“What was that?” He finally asked.

“That guy was crazy! How could I not say something to him?”

“You didn’t have to hit him and hurt yourself! People say stuff like that all the time, you just have to ignore it and move on with your day.”

You stayed silent for a moment, averting your gaze and holding your injured hand that was gently glowing. Bucky gently let out his breath. He closed the distance between you and put his hand under yours to help you support it. His other hand grasped your forearm, gently moving over your smooth skin. He glanced down and watched as the inflammation went away and a bone shifted back into place under your skin.

“Please,” He whispered, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. “It’s not worth all the trouble. It’s not worth you getting hurt.”

“No.”

Bucky snapped his head back up to see you calm and determined. Speaking again, you look into his eyes.

“It is worth it.”

He blinked twice, not having expected that answer.

“Why?”

“Because if I had let him say what he was going to say. Then to me, it would be validating anyone who has ever said anything like that about you. I can’t let you believe that any of that is true.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“But you do.” You cried out, slipping your newly healed hand out of his grasp and stepping away.

“I can see it in your actions, Bucky. I see it when you deny yourself anything that would make you happy. I see it when you try to hide yourself from the world. I see it when you look at me.” You spoke, voice wavering with the last sentence, averting your gaze again. Bucky stood silent as you continued.

“I see a deep sadness in your eyes. I can feel it in your soul when I heal your shoulder. Or when you touch my hand to see if I’ve fallen asleep. I can feel it emanating off of you. But I know for a fact that you deserve to be happy. You deserve to rest and to be happy. How many times have you fought a fight that wasn’t yours because it was the right thing to do? And don’t say it was to redeem yourself because I know it’s more than that. You are a good man, James. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. But if you need to prove it to yourself than just take a look at me.”

You gently hold his face and guide it so that he’s looking at you. He’s surprised to find your eyes full of tears, threatening to spill over.

“When you look into my eyes, there is nothing but love and admiration for you. When you touch me, I feel the warmth you leave on my skin. When you hear me speak, you should be able to tell from what I say that I genuinely think you deserve the world. When you are hurting, the only thing I feel is your anguish. It kills me, to see you punish yourself so undeservedly.”

You were whispering now, looking up at him. Bucky’s eyes were watering as well, his jaw clenched in an attempt to hold back his emotions. With your hands still gently caressing his cheeks he slowly lowered his head so that his forehead was resting on yours, swallowing hard.

Bucky lifted his head slightly so that he could look at you and he saw nothing but love. Your eyelashes were wet and shimmering from tears you shed for him. Your cheeks were flushed from the overwhelming feeling that you had for him. He looked into the depths of your eyes and saw only his future with you. Finally, his gaze settles on your lips, soft and supple.

“Please,” you begged. “Please do not ask me to stand idly by as the world tears you apart. You are worth more to me than anything else in it.”

Slowly, his hands touch your waist and slide back until he’s holding you against him. Closing the gap between you, you kiss.

Nothing more in this world could assure him of your love. For once, he believes it.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Life Without Colour (PART FOUR)

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Taglist:  @domainoflostsouls​  forgetthisbull  handon-h-art  yourspecialcrush  giulsgotmusic  mrsbarnes-rogers  luosymekawa  linzeyzarcone  forgetthisbull   calamityreads  talgra 

Warnings: this one takes a darker turn; trigger warnings for kidnapping, drugged, threats/slight violence, Hydra, angst

Note: this is over 6000 words, enjoy!! x

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

A few weeks had passed since you first saw colour; a few weeks have passed since you and Steve talked through everything and made peace with Bucky Barnes being your soulmate which mean a few weeks have passed since you last saw or spoke to Bucky Barnes. After your 3am phone call, you hadn’t seen him. You’d told Steve about the phone call when you were both awake the next morning, telling him as much of the conversation as you could remember. He seemed fine with it, knowing about Bucky’s nightmares and erratic sleeping schedule. In fact, he appreciated the gesture that Bucky reached out to ask what you were comfortable with. What Steve appreciated more though was your honesty and the fact you were straight with Bucky and told him that you and Steve were happy together and nothing would change that.

Everything was fine with you and Steve, every issue had been ironed out and in fact, the two of you had never been closer. You were truly grateful for Steve’s forgiveness and now, the guilt had almost fully disappeared. He had helped you to heal that wound and you had helped to heal his wounds with trust; you had proved yourself to be honest and that it was just one slip up. 

Life had been good those few weeks, you spent more time with Nat and got to know about her budding relationship with Bruce. You’d seen the team a bit more than usual as well. No one else - besides Nat and Sam - knew about the soulmate fiasco and truthfully, it wasn’t their business to know anyway. Bucky hadn’t been around much, he’d called Steve a couple of times just to say that he was doing his own thing for a while as per your wishes. Steve was thankful to Bucky for providing that space even if it meant he had only seen his best friend a handful of times since he returned from Wakanda.

Things were good. Until they weren’t.

Steve and the some of the team got dragged to a mission across the country. It was a big one; Hydra were back and trying to infiltrate the systems. Brock Rumlow, or Crossbones as he referred to himself now, was after Steve and he wouldn’t stop until he got him. You didn’t really know what was happening with the mission, Steve was never allowed to tell you a lot about the missions, you just knew that it was a big one and it was dangerous. You hated when Steve was away on a mission; you hated the not knowing part of it all but you supposed it’s what you deserved for falling in love with Captain America.

You didn’t know how serious it was until you had been bringing the groceries into yours and Steve’s apartment and saw four men - three very large, hulking brutes of men - waiting for you. The scream that rose in your throat never found its way out before a gloved hand was forced over your mouth, holding a rag with something strong smelling over your mouth and nose. Brock Rumlow had you pinned in his arms, forcing you to breathe in the chemicals. You tried to fight against him as the fear radiated through your body, trying to put some of those self defence techniques that Natasha had taught you to good use but he was too strong and everything felt fuzzy around the edges. Your eyes were wide as you struggled, trying to escape, trying to scream; trying to do anything that would help to save you. Your heart pounded painfully against your ribcage and you could feel the panic set in when your vision began to blur. You could see the three men approach, weapons in hand but a gruff voice in your ear said, “Stop struggling and we won’t hurt you.” Whether you wanted to stop struggling or not wasn’t up to you but instead, the choice had been taken away and given to the substance that you were breathing in. As the darkness crept in, you heard a faint voice say, “Get Rogers on the phone now.”

Flashes of light, snippets of sound and quick seconds of vision was what you experienced for a few hours as you drifted in and out of consciousness. It wasn’t until a loud bang erupted a few rooms away that you really began to come back to life. Squinting in the low light, you blinked hard, trying to focus on something to figure out where you were. Wherever you were, it was dark and dim and it smelled faintly of the explosion of fireworks on the 5th of November.

You weren’t hurt, your neck ached from the position you’d been in for what you could only assume was the last few hours. You went to move when you realised that your hands and feet were bound. That’s when you really began to wake up. What the fuck? Your memory was hazy but you remembered Rumlow and his goons in your apartment. You pulled at your hands, trying to get loose but the bonds that tied your hands were too tight. Squinting, you looked around the room, it was dark, with a metal door and a few wooden boxes in the corner. You were sitting on a wooden chair, hands and feet bound to the arms and legs of it. 

Your mind thought of Steve, oh god, Steve. You knew this had been Rumlow’s doing, what if he had gotten to Steve? What if- what if he- No. You couldn’t think like that. Steve had been on a mission states away from you. Rumlow had come to you because he obviously couldn’t get to Steve, he was drawing Steve out and you were the bait. Steve’s going to find you, (y/n). He said he’ll always protect you and he’ll keep that promise.

The more you panicked, the more you began to struggle; trying to break free of the ropes. Your breathing was quick and ragged as you struggled, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. Tears welled in your eyes as your mind raced with the horrors of what was going to happen to you. You froze when you could hear grunting outside, it sounded close.

Fear kicked you hard in the stomach, making you feel light headed and nauseous. You’d never been this terrified before. You thought that the most you could be scared was that time a spider ran across the bed when Steve was in a shower and you had to deal with getting it out of the apartment but no, tied to a chair after being drugged and kidnapped with explosions and not knowing what the fuck was going on... yeah, that’s a whole new level of fear. You tried to slow your breathing as you strained to listen to the commotion outside of the room you occupied. You could hear grunts and what sounded like punches before the metal door of the room was thrown open and there stood Sam Wilson. A sob got caught in your throat as you saw him.

He pressed his earpiece as he rushed to you, kneeling to help untie you, “I got her, Steve. Second floor, take a right, fifth door down. She’s okay.”

“Oh my god,” you sobbed as relief flooded your senses, “Oh my god, Sam!”

Sam murmured words of comfort as he worked on the ropes that bounded you to the chair, “It’s okay, they’re not gonna hurt you. We’ve got you now.”

He managed to get the last one untied when Steve ran into the room. He wore his Captain America gear sans the mask and carried the shield. As soon as he saw you, he tossed his shield to the side and rushed to your aid. Sam stepped to the side, picking up the shield and playing around with it as he allowed you two a moment to reunite. He was muttering about how the shield was much lighter than it looked.

“Steve,” you whimpered, throwing your arms around your boyfriend and allowing him to pull you up. He held you tightly, breathing heavy into your neck.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

“Sorry to interrupt but we gotta move,” Sam said after a minute, “before we get any more company.”

“Are you okay to walk?” Steve asks you, pulling you back to look at you, “Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you say, wiping your eyes, “Tired but I can make it.”

The three of you hurry out, Steve tells you not to look at the bodies on the floor but you do and you instantly regret it. “Are they-”

“Knocked out,” Sam says, answering your question before you finish it, “but won’t be for long so we gotta hurry.”

Everything’s a bit of a blur as Steve and Sam usher you out, careful to take you the safest and quickest path. You feel queasy after seeing the blood and the carnage of the few HYDRA men so your eyes are trained to the ground until Steve has you safe and sitting in the quinjet. 

Steve doesn’t let go of you, always touching or holding onto you in some way or another. You’re silent as Sam begins to fly the jet. Steve’s talking to you but you can’t focus on anything other than his hand in yours, “I’m tired,” you whisper, “I’m so tired.” You lay your head on Steve’s shoulder and darkness quickly encapsulates you.

You gasp awake, jolting upwards, “Whoa, (y/n), it’s okay!” A voice says quickly, “You’re okay, you’re safe remember. It’s Steve, sweetheart; it’s Steve. Look at me, (y/n).”

Your mind whirs, the tendrils of the nightmare still creeping around in your brain. Hands on your face force your eyes to stop fleeting from wall to wall and instead focus on the person in front of you. Steve stares at you, telling you that everything’s okay and that you’re safe now. Steve’s hands are on either side of your face as he makes you look at him. You blink hard, as your eyes struggle to focus on him. You hear the rapid beeping of the machine and you register that it’s your measuring your heartrate. His face finally sharpens and you can see him properly now.

“Slow breath in, sweetheart. You’re safe, I promise you. Copy me.” Steve takes a deep breath and you follow suit, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. Steve repeats to you that you’re in hospital and you’re safe, “No one can hurt you in here.”

You look away from him after a few seconds to look around you and sure enough, you are in hospital. The walls are pure white, too white and you’re in the hospital bed, “How did I get here?”

“We got you and you passed out again, I took you here just to make sure that whatever drug they gave you was out of your system. It’s leaving so you’ll be okay, sweetheart.” He brushes your hair back, “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t ever want to be an Avenger, I know that’s for damn sure,” you mutter as you close your eyes and fall back against the pillows, “How you guys deal with the fear is beyond me.”

Steve smiles but it’s sad. You open one eye, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it. You get some rest and I’ll be right here, (y/n). I’m not going anywhere. Doctors want to keep you in overnight just to make sure it’s all out your system, okay? I’m going to wait by your side all night and don’t worry, we have agents at every door in the hospital.”

“Rumlow?” You asked him, voice trembling, “Where’s he?” 

“SHIELD are closing in on him, sweetheart,” he sighs, stroking your hair back gently, “Don’t worry... He can’t get you in here.”

As Steve looked over you as you slept, Sam came into the room, “Coffee delivery.” Steve sipped at the hot coffee happily, “How is she?”

“Had a nightmare about it but she’s okay. She’s scared.” Steve’s eyes were trained on you as though we were watching a newborn infant to check its breathing, “God, what if we hadn’t found her in time?”

“But we did and we got her out. She’s safe, Steve.”

Steve shook his head, “But for how long?” He asked as he rubbed his face tiredly with one hand, “How long before Rumlow or HYDRA or someone else targets (y/n) to get to me?”

Sam swallows, “What are you thinking then?”

“She has to go somewhere safe, somewhere away from the chaos and the danger.”

“How long?”

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know... At least until we know all of Rumlow and his men are locked up.”

“You’ll go with her?”

It’s a big decision and he knows that you should be involved in it but he knows exactly what you’ll say; you’ll say that you want to stay with him and stay by his side even if it means living in terror of every bump in the night. He had been reckless, Steve had thought he was untouchable, he thought that you would’ve been safe but Steve underestimated the lengths these sorts of guys go to in order to win.

He shakes his head, hating the decision that he’s about to make but it’s for the best. It’s the only thing he knows that will protect you; it’s the only way he’s happy with you leaving, “No... but I know someone who will.”

Sam shakes his head, knowing exactly who he means and he raises his eyebrows, “You’re kidding, right? That’s a stupid decision, Steve, and you know it.”

Steve scoffs, “I wish... but... he’s strong, he’s good in a fight and I know that he’ll protect her no matter what.”

“But what if... what if they... you know?”

Steve takes a breath and releases it slowly, “Then I’ll deal with that when the time comes. I need to keep (y/n) safe and this is the only way...”

Sam’s hand is heavy on Steve’s shoulder as they watch you, “She’s not gonna like that decision.”

Steve laughs, knowing fine well that you will fight against the decision for all its worth, “Oh, yeah, I know. Probably won’t forgive me in a hurry either.” Steve stands up, “Will you watch her so I can go make a phone call? I’ll just be outside the door if you need me.”

Sam nods, taking Steve’s seat, as Steve grabs his phone from his jacket, dialling one number. He waits outside the room, just across from the two agents that Fury had placed outside of (y/n)’s hospital room 24/7.

“Steve?” He’d been sleeping, the one time Bucky Barnes is getting a decent sleep and his phone rings and wakes him. He always answers when it’s Steve though, regardless of the time or where he is.

“Hey, Buck... I need to ask you a favour.” Bucky asks what Steve needs and Steve begins to tell him, “Rumlow and HYDRA are after me. They kidnapped (y/n), she’s okay, in hospital but no injuries. She’s shaken up pretty bad and... Bucky, this is going to be a big ask.”

“Whatever you need, Steve, I’ll do.” He’s sitting, tugging a shirt on with one arm,  “What do you need?” Bucky Barnes would go to the ends of the Earth for Steve Rogers and he knows that whatever Steve needs, it’s something big.

“I need you to take her to a safe house.” Bucky freezes, he had expected Steve to ask him to come help for extra protection or something like that but this... this is huge, “I need you to take her. I don’t know how long for, a few weeks maybe months? No one else, it can only be you.”

“But... Steve...” He doesn’t say much but Steve knows what he’s saying. But Steve, I’m your girlfriend’s soulmate and you’re asking for me to take her into a secluded house alone? Just the two of us for god knows how long? Are you sure that’s a good idea?

Steve sighs heavily, “I know, Buck.” His tone almost sounds defeated, “I know... We were finally back on track and the universe hits out with this... I just need her to be safe, Buck, regardless of who he soulmate is or who she ends up falling in love with; I want her to be happy and I want her to be safe.”

“Why can’t you go?”

“They’re after me, I can’t let you or Sam or the team pick up my mess. I have to deal with it. That’s why I need you to go with her. You’re just as strong as me and... I know that you’ll keep her safe. I know that whatever happens, you’ll do everything you can to protect her... I need you to take her until we have Hydra locked up.”

Bucky licks his lips as he thinks about it. He doesn’t really know how to feel about it but he doesn’t really have to, Steve needs him and he’d follow that scrawny kid into the depths of hell if it mean he’d be helping him, “Okay, I’ll help. I’ll need a few days to find a safe house and get it prepped then I’ll fly out, okay?” He agrees to Steve’s ask though he has a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that all of this won’t go to plan. 

“Thank you, Bucky.” Steve closes his eyes as he leans against the wall, “You can’t tell me or anyone else where you’re going or where you’re taking her. I probably won’t be able to contact you so-” I’m leaving you with my girl alone with no contact from me or the team for weeks or months potentially, “- you gotta keep her safe. I’ve got some cash together for you to buy everything with that so you’re untraceable. Fury’s giving us more cash since we don’t know how long you’ll be away for.”

Bucky swears on his own life that he’d protect you with everything he has. Before Steve hangs up, Bucky says, “Steve, I just want you to know that no matter what happens... no matter what feelings arise... I won’t- I won’t do anything, I won’t act on anything, I won’t try and do anything about them...”

It’s the reassurance Steve needs and he feels a lot lighter now that Bucky’s said that. He smiles as he release a long breath, “I know you won’t, Bucky. I’ll see you soon.” Steve hangs up and walks back into the hospital room where Sam has Marvin Gaye playing quietly on his phone, “Do you just play Marvin Gaye to anyone in a hospital?”

Sam rolls his eyes, “It was too quiet, man! How did it go?”

“He’s onboard.”

Sam claps him on the shoulder, “You sure this is what you want? You know that I could take her or you could and I could hold the fort?”

Steve sighs, “It has to be him.” He shrugs, “I... I can only hope that nothing happens but god knows... All I know is that she’ll be okay with him.” The pair look over you as Steve’s thoughts swirl. This might be one of the last times you’re together in a romantic sense, he doesn’t know if you’ll come back loving Bucky or hating him and it makes him feel sick at the thought but he’s okay with it. He wants you to be happy and if that means it’s with Buck, then so be it.

“Absolutely not.”

“(y/n), come on-”

“No, Steve!” Your voice is raising due to the sheer stupidity of his request, “You’re saying that because you’re being targeted that means I’m a target too, I understand that, but what I don’t understand is why you’re asking me to go live in a safe house with Bucky for god knows how long! He’s my soulmate, Steve, I- I can’t.”

“The plans have already been made.”

“Then unmake them!” You’re angry and he gets it and to be honest, he doesn’t want this to happen either but it has to. He’d told you the next morning when the drugs were completely out of your system. Sam was back at the apartment checking for bugs, just in case Rumlow’s gang planted some when they were in and then he’d take you back to the apartment for you to pack a bag, “I’m not going Steve.”

“Yes, you are.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you with a furrowed brow. He understands that you’re an adult who can decide their own fate but Steve is choosing this one for you, “You might not understand right now but when you come out the other end of this safe then I hope you’ll understand then.”

You shake your head as tears threaten to fall. You’re angry at Steve, that he made this decision and you knew you would be going no matter what fight you put up. It annoyed you, made you feel small and made you feel like a child who couldn’t make their own decisions, “Not without you, Steve. Why can’t it be you?”

“I’m trying to keep the fight away from you,” he says softly, hand on top of yours, “Bucky’s the only way you’ll be kept safe.” Silence falls for a moment before he speaks again, “I know what this means. I know what this could mean for... for us. I know that you could come back in love with Bucky and he for you. I know that you could come back and break up with me on the spot... That’s a risk I am willing to take.”

You shake your head, “No,” you whisper, “I’m not willing to take that risk, Steve.” You could trust yourself, that wasn’t the issue. You knew that no matter what, you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise your relationship with Steve. But... you and Bucky were soulmates and that had to be for a reason and it worried you that being alone with him for an unlimited amount of time would cause something to stir. You trusted yourself not to cheat on Steve but you didn’t trust your heart not to hurt Steve.

Steve crouched down beside the hospital bed and lifted your hand to his lips, “I know, sweetheart,” tears burned at his own eyes as he spoke to you, “I know the risk. I know that you could come back and we could break up instantly and if you want, we could break up right now so that whatever happens, you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it-”

You swung your legs out of the bed, throwing your arms around him, “No,” you wept sadly into his shoulder, “that’s the last thing I want.”

He held you tightly, knowing that this very well could be one of the last times that the two of you had together in a relationship, “I’m doing this because I want to protect you, (y/n)… Bucky can protect you.”

“I-I love you, Steve,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. My god, how you loved him. He had changed your life, brought so much joy and happiness to it, “No matter what, I love you.” The two of you stayed like that for a long time, just needing to feel each other and needing to be with each other because... who knew what would happen over the course of the next few months?

With doctors granting you permission to leave the hospital and after having Sam debug the apartment, Steve took you home for your last night with him. The car ride to the apartment was quiet and your hand never left Steve’s as he drove you both home. You had relented with the decision, knowing full well that regardless of whether you said yes or no to leaving with Bucky, you would be going anyway. You and Steve had talked things over, about Steve’s duty to the job and to taking down Hydra, about Bucky and how he wasn’t going to overstep a line with you or anything like that. The pair of you spoke about the non-existent contact you’d have.

“Hopefully it won’t be too long,” Steve said, “maybe just a few weeks but these days, Hydra is everywhere and nowhere all in the one, it could be months. Bucky managed to find a safe house relatively quick. For obvious reasons, I don’t know where it is or what continent it’s on but he said that it’s secluded and it’s safe. He said that it comes with minimal furniture so tomorrow morning, you’ll leave.” You squeezed his hand tightly, not wanting to speak for fear of bursting into tears. Steve glanced over at you and gave you the tiniest of smiles. He lifted your hand and pressed a soft kiss to it.

When you reached the apartment complex, there were three black SUVs parked out front, Steve saw you looking, “SHIELD agents,” he told you, “We’ll have agents outside the apartment and one in each of our neighbour’s apartments.”

“Jeez,” you murmured, “I’m only here for one night, it’s like I’m a bloody Kardashian.”

Steve smiled slightly, glad to hear you make a joke, he wrapped an arm around you as you walked into the building, “Only the best for you, my love.”

You were rather apprehensive about going back into the apartment. It had been yours and Steve’s safe place and now... it seemed compromised almost. Steve seemed to pick up on your worry, “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said as he took the keys out of his pocket, “It’s been cleaned, debugged and also...” He unlocked the door to reveal red rose petals running from the front door into each room.

“Steve,” you whispered, looking at him with a smile. You walked into the apartment, hanging your coat up and kicking your shoes off. You followed the petals into the kitchen where there was a candlelit dinner waiting for the two of you.

“It’s not much but I had Nat come round and make it special since it’s our last night together.” Note; ‘last night together’ is different from ‘last night together for a while’. A pang of sadness shot through you, you leaned up to kiss him softly, whispering that you loved it.

“There’s a bath waiting for you if you want it. Some Chinese takeout if you’re hungry.”

You hugged him tightly, “Just hold me for a while.” So, the pair of you stood in the kitchen, holding each other in the dim light not knowing what would happen next. 

It was a few minutes later Steve tugged you to the kitchen table where you both sat down, “You remember our first night here?” He asked you as he handed you some take out cartons and began to eat.

You stifled a laugh, “Yeah, no electricity for three days and no hot water either!”

Steve laughed with you, taking a fork full of chow mein, “Yeah, having to eat Chinese take out on the floor with torches and candles all around us. Could’ve cried when the electricity finally turned on.”

You rolled your eyes, “You could have cried?! What the hell, Rogers? You teared up like you were watching your first born son marry!” 

The ice had been broken and the two of you could freely talk and laugh without boundaries. You both carried on as though it were a normal night, a date night with no mention As the night went on, you had a nice romantic bath as Steve cleaned the dishes and when you were finished, things ended in the bedroom.

You always loved laying on his chest, listening to the slow rhythmic beat of his heart and his steady breathing. Most people, if they knew it was their last night with someone would probably fuck until dawn but neither of you wanted that. You wanted nothing more than to lie with him, talking and just being there and being present. Steve wanted to hold you, wanted to tell you how much he cared and loved you and he just wanted to be with you.

“Whatever happens,” you said softly, “I just want you to know that this was real; this is real - that although we’re technically not soulmates, I truly believe that we are.”

Steve pulled you tighter into him, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I want you to know,” he said, “that no matter what feelings you start to have for Bucky, no matter how you feel towards me in the end up... I won’t blame you. I won’t expect you to love me like this on the other side. I won’t expect you to still want to be with me. I know that I’m forcing you into this situation and that kills me to do but I have to do it so whatever happens, it’s not your fault.”

You look up to him as you both whisper your confessions of undying love before kissing him gently. It’s a soft kiss, full of emotion and full of such sorrow. It’s a goodbye. You would say goodbye officially tomorrow but this was the real goodbye, this was the intimate goodbye, the letting go of the intertwined hearts and this was it. The kiss soon turned more passionate and then the two of you were confessing your love in the most intimate of ways.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Natasha asked you as she sat on yours and Steve’s bed. You were in the process of packing your bags.

“I feel like I’m perpetually on the verge of tears,” you answered, as you folded some t-shirts and squeezed them into the bag, “It’s hard, you know? I understand why but my god, Nat, I hate this.”

Nat studied you carefully and you knew the question that was on her mind. What if you fall for Barnes? To be honest, it had been the question on everyone’s mind that morning.

“I’m shit scared,” you admitted to her, dropping the bag onto the bed beside her as you ran your hands through your hair, “I am terrified. I am so in love with Steve and what if I come back madly in love with Bucky? Or better yet, in love with the two of them?”

Nat stood up, placing a gentle hand on your arm, “Hey, whatever happens, it’s going to be okay. You can’t stress about something that might not even happen. You have to take it day by day and if you fall for him then so be it. If you don’t, great. If you’re in love with the two of them then that’s something you and Steve have to talk about and sort out when you’re back. Don’t stress about it now.” She pulled you in for a tight hug, a very un-Nat thing to do, “Just know that I’ll be helping Steve sort out the Hydra mess, I’ll keep his ass safe and in line and hopefully it won’t be too long before you’re allowed to come home.”

“Thanks, Nat.” The two of you pulled apart, “You’ll need to keep a diary or something to update me on everything I’ll miss... especially with you and a certain Dr Banner.” You placed your phone on top of the counter, you couldn’t take it for fear of tracking so there was no point in having it. You sighed as you placed it down.

Nat rolled her eyes, “Yeah right. Let’s get this wig sorted.”

The Avengers were never too good at disguises, it usually always consisted of sunglasses and a cap so, in order to hide your identity further, Nat had brought you a wig the opposite colour, cut and style to your hair just now and some contact lenses of a different colour to your natural eye colour.

After a few minutes, you looked in the mirror, staring at someone who looked like a stranger, “Oh god, I hate it.” The top you wore wasn’t at all flattering for your body type. You tugged it down, wishing that it wasn’t quite so figure hugging. You didn’t mind things that clung to your body, you’d worked through a lot of the body issues you had but the top was a horrid colour and paired with this hair and these contacts... you didn’t feel like a Kardashian anymore. 

Nat laughed, “That means it works. Honestly, you look fine, stop worrying... Let’s go show the boys.”

You walked into the living room with your packed bags to see Sam and Steve standing talking. Steve smiled when he looked at you, “You look... interesting.”

“Shut it, Rogers.”

“I mean, it definitely works because I look at you and I don’t see (y/n), I see a complete stranger,” Sam offered.

“You ready?” Steve asked softly, taking the bags from you, “Got everything?” You nodded, murmuring a ‘think so’. He smiled and pulled an envelope out of his back pocket, “I wrote this letter this morning. I want you to read it when it’s time...” Your confused expression made him explain further, “I want you to read this letter when you start to feel things... things for Bucky. If that happens.” You took a breath, mind whirring with the possible things that could be in that letter,  “You’ll know when to read it.”

It was then that there was a knock on the door. Sam answered it to see Bucky Barnes standing wearing a cap and, you guessed it, sunglasses. He wore leather gloves to cover his metal hand and carried a bag over his shoulder. He lifted the sunglasses to look at you, “Ready?”

Oh god, it’s happening.

“I don’t want to cry because I’m scared of the contact lenses,” you whimpered as tears threatened to fall. You hugged Nat and Sam, thanking them for their help, before Steve said that he’d walk out with you both. He picked up your bags and the three of you left the apartment to the black car that was outside. Bucky packed the three bags in the trunk before hugging Steve.

You couldn’t hear what the two of them said in the brief encounter but you supposed that it would be Bucky reassuring Steve that you’d be safe and that he wouldn’t act on any feelings that may grow. Steve clapped him on the shoulder and Bucky got into the driver’s seat of the car.

Steve turned to you and wrapped you in his arms. God, you just wanted to cry. You wished that you didn’t have to go, you wished that you could just stay with him but you couldn’t. You had to leave. They’d already gotten to you once and Steve wouldn’t dare let it happen again.

“I love you,” you told him softly, “I love you so much, Steve. I-I love you.”

He held you tighter, “I love you, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll get this sorted so that you can come home to me.” You pulled back and he brushed your cheek, wiping your tear gently, “No matter what happens, it’s okay.” You hugged him again before he leaned down and kissed you softly. Bucky, who had been watching in the rear view mirror, looked away, “Goodbye, (y/n).”

“Goodbye, Steve.” He opened your car door and you slid inside.

“Thank you, Buck,” Steve said, clearing his throat, “Be safe.” He closed the door and Bucky started the engine, pulling out of the apartment complex. Your eyes were trained on the spot where Steve was, watching as he got smaller and smaller until you couldn’t see him anymore. It was only when he was out of sight that you allowed yourself to really break. Fuck the contact lenses, I’m too sad to care. 

Bucky glanced at you as he drove, feeling a pang of sadness for you as you wept in the seat beside him. He knew that part of the reason you were so upset was because it was him that was taking you, had he not been your soulmate you would have probably been okay but because he was your soulmate, it filled you to the brim with worry, guilt and pure sadness. All he could do was drive. Nothing he could say could help you. He reached to his side, taking a pack of tissues from the door’s compartment before handing them to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking them from him. He couldn’t do much to help but he had done enough to make you feel comforted and to make you feel as though you weren’t alone. You wiped your eyes as you stared out of the window, wondering where the next few weeks would take you.

[piteouspeculiarity]

Defining Home: Extended Author's Note

Warning: This might contain spoilers for the series

(For clarity, when I say 'Tommy' etc in this post, I'm talking about the characters from my fics, not the content creators themselves.)

So it's done, huh? This note will include the sappy shit, the fun facts, then some of the more serious stuff, because I just didn't want to add an essay to the end of that chapter.

First of all, thank you all for the support along the way. Defining Home is easily my most popular series of fics I’ve ever written and I’ve been writing fanfic for years now. The comments and the kudos and the bookmarks were so very validating when I was new to the fandom, and still are. Hell, people have gifted me fics and written related fics to Defining Home, which blows my tiny mind. I haven’t gotten the chance to read a lot of them yet (procrastination I know thy name), but when I do, I’ll be leaving my best comments in thanks <3

I'll be honest, when I posted the first chapter of Enough, I never expected it to turn into what it did.

That first chapter was written in my phone notes at 3am, hours before an exam. I hadn't interacted with the fandom at all at that point, didn't even have a Tumblr for it, but boy oh boy did I get a warm welcome.

The point is, that first chapter was a very spur in the moment thing, mainly consisting of one scene I couldn't get out of my head (Tommy on a train to Wilbur's). I've gotten a few people telling me since then that they wished that they could write as well as I can, which is a huge compliment, but every person can write a fic like Enough. There are things that we all struggle with when it comes to writing: dialogue, prose, starting scenes - I have my own things I struggle with, things you might have noticed, things you might have not. You don't have to be a perfect writer to tell a story, especially in fandoms, where betas are easy to come across.

Write your story, even if its just for yourself. Posting that chapter gave me the chance to make new friends and I'll never stop being grateful for that.

One of those friends is Kat, who I've mentioned a couple times in the author's notes, but who honestly, I owe a lot to. Kat has encouraged me and been one of the main motivators to write this fic when I felt like it would never be finished, or that I'd never live up to other people's expectations. Sometimes, that meant motivating in some weird ass ways, but hey, it worked.

People who know me in discord servers might know that I'm a simp for Kat and it's damn true. Kat, I love you, you've improved my life more than you know in the last couple months and you deserve so, so much happiness.

In fear of love reciprocation from Kat, we'll move swiftly on to the more fun side of things.

Anyone feel like fun facts? You might already know some of these because I tend to overshare in author's notes, but I'm pretty sure some of them are new to all of you.

Barney the dog? Named after my own late labrador, who I love very much and loved to jump in lakes and need rescuing, time and time again.

I had no plans in moving Tommy in with Techno, hell, I had no plans in Techno moving to England at all. It was as much of a surprise to me as it was to everyone else when he told Tommy the news, but I latched onto the idea and ran with it. I think it worked out okay, in the end.

Techno has a draw in his bedroom full of parenting books, most of which were stolen from Phil.

After Tommy asked for help about what to do with Dream, Wilbur sent Dream a dm telling him he better not fuck anything up and if he did, Wilbur would not hesitate to humiliate him in front of millions of people. It was unnecessary, of course, but Dream was definitely a bit more cautious about what he said when he listened to Tommy’s explanation.

Some of my favourite things about writing Defining Home:

The Tesco v Asda discourse. Look, some of you just need to accept that Asda is the superior shop and get off your Tesco stanning bullshit. /j

The offers I would get for new chapters, some honourable mentions being newborns, siblings, diamonds and kidneys.

Now, I know that as much as I tried to, I won't have managed to include everything that everyone wanted from Defining Home, whether that's certain confrontations or scenes, I am sorry if I haven't included.

I don't imagine myself writing any more in the series, not because I think there isn't more I could write about, but because as a whole it feels complete to me, and any added oneshots I write would disturb that.

Right now Defining Home feels well rounded in a way that I'm proud of. The minute I realised that Enough was going to turn into a series I planned out how I wanted it to work. Maybe its just the maths part of my brain, but I like how there's three fics, with three chapters in each and how Tommy heals as you progress throughout the series.

My aim for the series was for the tone to get lighter as you went through, because yes, things kept happening (confrontation with dad, beach incident etc) but the point was that Tommy dealt with those things in different ways that he would have earlier on in the series. I have lots of thoughts and lots of emotions about how he felt safe enough with his family to experience nightmares and such. I made an effort in The Truth Behind Family to include more fluff, especially in the last two chapters, because I think it’s important to show that yeah, his parents’ abuse effected him, but it didn’t dictate how he lived his life. 

Like yes, I could write about their first Christmas together, for example, and add it onto the series, but I don’t think that I’d be able to do the rest of the series justice in that. Defining Home is largely about what the title implies, Tommy discovering what words like ‘home’ and ‘family’ mean beyond what he’s been told he’s stuck with and I believe that by the end of the series, he’s been successful in that. 

I'm so proud of the characters I wrote, Tommy in particular, for how far they've come in Defining Home, but I think that in a way, it’s time for me to let them go.

That’s not to say I’m done with writing for sbi! Hell no! 

I have a couple long fics in the works and a one shot I’m working on. The main fic I’m excited to focus on now Defining Home is finished is heavy heart, heavy head, heavy hero which, to put it simply, is an sbi royalty au, where unfortunate circumstances mean Tommy is forced to become King. It’s going to be a little more plot focused than Defining Home was and I am so very pumped to give it my full attention instead of leaving that lonely one chapter on AO3 like I have been doing.

I was 🤏close to making a Discord server, but ultimately decided I’m much more suited to causing chaos on other people’s servers than running my own. I think at this point the karma would be too great to even consider making my own server, so if you’d like to talk to me on Discord, keep an eye for me on other people’s servers - I mainly lurk, but I’m pretty active on one or two :D

On a more serious note, Defining Home deals with some heavy topics and I’ve had comments tell me that they relate to Tommy’s situation and wish that they had their own found family to run to. 

This Tumblr post has a list of phone numbers and places you can contact if you need help or want someone to talk to. Saying that, I recognise that a list as long as that can be daunting, so feel free to shoot me a message and I can either help you find the right one for you, or keep you company for a bit if you need it. 

Not all of us are lucky enough to have our own found family, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t forever, or that you’re alone. My dms and ask box are always open if you want someone to talk to.

Keep yourselves safe <3

- Lee 

[pbaintthetb]

quick fic

wrote this because i need to write but lack motivation, and I’m not posting it because it’s not neatly wrapped up but anyway

“I’m here to see the Sect Leader,” Xichen tells the Nie disciples who greet him at the gates. He’s greeted with a nod and a fond eye roll, his presence here is not unfamiliar, frequently coming to drag poor little A-Sang out of trouble.

(How much of that had always been a lie? How much had these disciples known it was a lie. Is it all an act? All of them?)

“He’ll meet you in his office,” one of the disciples tells him pleasantly, “Feel free to wait for him there.” In the corner of his eye he can notices a flurry of green, but he nods and walks the familiar path.

A-Sang, A-Yao. It’s too late for Da-ge, Mingjue is gone, and it’s like a gaping hole in his chest, but maybe he can stop the rest of the tragic story playing itself out again. Stop Huaisang from ruining himself.

“Er-ge?” Huaisang says warily as he enters the office to find Xichen standing there. His fan is up over his mouth and his eyes are wide, but this is just how Huaisang had looked in the temple, and it sends eerie chills down Xichen’s spine.

His silly, foolish, lazy, idle little brother is none of those things. At least not anymore, but maybe Xichen can restore it. Now that he’s looking for it, now that he knows it’s there, he can see it in Huaisang’s eyes. A certain sharpness, warily tracking him.

Or maybe Xichen’s imagining it, so desperate for it to be there, for there to be a sign of everything Huaisang was and will be (won’t be, Xichen will fix it) again. But if even A-Yao had never noticed...

There is no point in wasting more time, so he swallows everything down and lays his cards out on the table. Mingjue had always valued forthrightness and honesty and had tried to instill those in Huaisang. Huaisang had hated Jin Guangyao because he had lied. Honestly should work, it has to.

“I know what you’re planning, A-Sang,” Xichen says, doesn’t whisper it, says it bravely and solidly so his confidence doesn’t abandon him. He needs to do this properly, needs to save as much of his brothers as he can. He can’t watch themselves tear themselves apart once more.

“Planning?” Huaisang says after a short pause, “I don’t know what you’re talking about? I really don’t know. I promise Er-ge! What do you mean?”

It was one thing to listen to Huaisang’s frantic denials and confusion when he had thought it real. It had been almost endearing, if sometimes a little worrying or irritating. Now, when he knows it has so much falseness in it, it sends a trickle of ice down his spine. He resists the urge to shudder, but maybe not enough because Huaisang’s eyes go wider still.

Xichen reminds himself that his sword is at his hip and his erhu hangs on his other side. Then he mentally prods himself, because why does his brain think he’d need protection from Huaisang? No matter what, Huaisang, his da-ge’s didi, would never hurt him. And, not to be rude, but Huaisang never had a particualry  strong core.

He shakes himself to get over the silliness and takes the plunge.

“I know about Da-ge and what you’re planning with A-Yao. How you want to destroy him, make sure he could never come back and-” He doesn’t finish his thought before Huaisang interjects.

“Er-ge? Are you okay, what about Da-ge? I don’t know what  you mean?”

“No, Huaisang.” He blocks off once more, he won’t play this game now. He fell for it before, in the temple, and A-Yao had died. He had done unforgivable things, but he hasn’t necessarily done them all yet this time. Maybe he can be saved, and he didn’t deserve to die.

“I have,” he pauses, “certain knowledge, Huaisang. I have seen, some things.” He swallows, and sees Huaisang watching him like a hawk over his fan, but his brow furrowed to keep up the illusion of confusion. A-Yao had said he’d never see through Huaisang’s mask, but Huaisang is still early in his game, and Xichen knows, he thinks he might now.

“San-ge led to Da-ge’s death.” Xichen tells the other man, as though  Huaisang doesn’t already know. “And I know you want to destroy him for it.”

There is no response, just the feeling that every inch of him is being measured and none of it is being deemed good enough.

“But why would San-ge hurt Da-ge?” Huaisang asks him eventually, voice trembling- and was Xichen too early? Has he ruined everything? Would Huaisang never have come for A-Yao? Or maybe this is right, and they can talk it over, and get justice together and without utterly destroying A-Yao in the process.

“Their relationship was very strained by the end,” Xichen acknowledges heavily. It didn’t make it right, but it made it make sense in hindsight. “I think San-ge...” he trails off, unsure how to continue. He shakes his head, this isn’t the point anyway.

“I know what you’re going to do, Huaisang. I’ve seen it. You’re going to trick him, and trap him and kill him. But you’re smart- no, I’ve seen that too. If we work together we could help him.” He swallows, “please, A-Sang.”

There’s an odd laugh.

“The way you talk, Er-ge. You make it sound as if you’re from the future,” Huaisang chuckles lightly again, and it is an absurd thought.

Xichen nods.

“Oh,” Huaisang tells him, ugly and flat, fan snapping shut to reveal a very displeased expression. “So tell me, Zewu-jun, did it hurt, what I did to him?”

Xichen gapes, he hadn’t expected this, at least not this fast.

“I’m not an idiot-” Xichen knows that now, “And I’m guessing, despite everything. Despite probably knowing more than me about what that bastard had done, you’ve still come to me first? He murdered my brother, and you’ve come to me to tell me to stop?!” Huaisang’s voice is full of venom, but no louder than a hiss.

The smaller man stands up loudly and clumsily, knee banging into a desk as he does so.

“Leave, Xichen,” Huaisang tells him, full of anger and rage. Xichen doesn’t know how it went so wrong so fast. “I thought you just didn’t know, and that was damning- but this?” Huaisang spits, such an unrefined action for such a carefully composed and elegant man.

“Huaisang,” Xichen says a little warningly himself, “I don’t think you want to challenge me either. A-Yao needs to be brought to justice, but you want isn’t justice. It’s barely revenge- it’s blood thirsty vengeance and I cannot condone it.”

He thins his lips, deciding whether to say his next sentence as Huaisang glowers at him, knuckles whitening around his fan. He needs to save as much of A-Yao as he can, it’s clear Huaisang is mostly gone, but maybe saving A-Yao will help save A-Sang.

“You don’t want the Lan as an enemy, Huaisang. My reputation is far better than yours, I could say all kind of things and they wouldn’t be lies. Please, leave him alone, let me deal with him.” It only feels a little wrong on his tongue, Xichen can live with it.

He’s met with a spluttering laugh from Huaisang, but his eyes are so very firm and steady and hard. Huaisang really is like Mingjue, but not in sharing honesty.

“If you tell anybody about this, about the Headshaker plotting, Zewu-jun, you think anyone will believe you? The only person who would is Jin Guangyao, and then you’ve signed my death warrant as well. Do you want this on your conscience? Can you live with the deaths of both my and Da-ge on your head?

Xichen steps back, his mind screaming at him, and Huaisang takes that as an opportunity to move around his desk and slither up to his side.

“Come back to me with his head, or don’t come back at all, Er-ge.” Huaisang strides back to his desk. “After all, I think we’ve established that I really don’t need you. Maybe I’ll drip all kinds of poison about you into people’s ears. I’m a terrible gossip, and just really don’t know how to hold my drink after all. Someone really ought to stop Sect Leader Nie from spending so much time in Taverns.”

Xichen suddenly has the nasty feeling that he’s walked into a snake’s den. That he really, should never have come.

“But that won’t be you,” Huaisang continues, “Seeing that you don’t like me anymore? Or do you? In which case then I’m still so useless, and not scheming.” Huasiang throws him a clearly false beam, and Xichen just wants out.

“Nice talking with you, Er-ge, now I’m fed up of watching you squirm.”

Xichen leaves as quickly as he can, not taking his eyes of Huaisang, who locks eye contact the whole time Xichen backs out of the door. He doesn’t even try to lay on a threat or impress for Huaisang not to go after A-Yao once more. He’s said all he can say to Huaisang. Now he’s stuck here, in the past with the sick feeling he’s made everything worse.

“The Sect Leader’s a real character, isn’t he?” one of the Nie disciples on the door comments with a slight laugh as Xichen focuses on not looking like he’s stumbling out. “Can really drive you up the wall.”

Xichen looks at him, and can see nothing but friendliness and banter.

“Well-meaning, but dumb,” the woman on the other side comments. The two disciples laugh together again.

“don’t worry, Zewu-jun, I don’t think he knows what he’s doing.” They snort.

Xichen looks at them both, tries to see if it’s a facade, if it’s real or-

He draws himself up, “You should show your Sect Leader some more respect,” he intones seriously. “The-”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Xichen is interrupted, “We respect Sect Leader Nie. He at least knows when he’s got an enemy in front of him. He’s not totally useless.”

Xichen swallows. He’s not quite sure how. But the only thing he’s certain of is that he’s made everything worse. So much worse.

[asmywhimseytakesme]

Ok.... if you haven’t read Return of the Thief yet, I sure hope you’ve blacklisted the relevant tags. Because I have some art to share!

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I’ve been wanting to get more art that would be appropriate for interior illustrations into my portfolio, and I kinda had that on the brain while I was reading. I started with the first couple and was having such fun I just.... kept going. It’s been a good way to slow myself down on the re-read, having to stop and think about each chapter before rushing on.

Here, I have an illustration for every chapter in The Book of Pheris Volume 1.

Yes, I shared a few of these last week and said there wouldn’t be any more for awhile.

I lied.

I looked up tube bee hives and from what I saw, there was huge variation in the size of the tubes used?? So I just drew what I wanted basically. (I CAN DRAW ANYTHING I WANT.)

:readmore:

Triangles!

I should say here that since Pheris’ condition is not actually named, I wasn’t really sure how to draw it. Based on the text I decided he would have one twisted foot, and one smaller/weaker hand that he would be in the habit of protecting/hiding against his body. Not being disabled myself, I don’t know the best or most respectful way to approach drawing this character. I am open to comments and correction if anything I draw has unintentionally offended someone, or perpetuated a stereotype.

This was a moment where when I read it I immidiately said I HAVE TO DRAW THAT.

Yeah, @emilybeemartin and @shebsart have already shared their awesome versions of this scene, and mine doesn’t feel as cool as theirs to me. I find it interesting that we each chose a different view point though—Emily did a cutaway so we could see either side of the wall, Sheb did a view from inside, and mine is from outside. In my sketch I had Irene and Pheris in the background, but it required too much vertical space for the horizontal format I had been using for these chapter heading styled illustrations, so I ended up cropping them out. So, so, so. Maybe I will do a taller version.... later.

Gen is SCARY in this chapter. I had to find a less scary moment.... fortunately there was a very cool visual moment of a scared, not scary Gen.

I made myself cry drawing this. 😭

I think this is the firs time I’ve ever tried drawing Relius? I wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. I love the limitations of black and white, but it does mean I can’t show things like bruises very well. 🤷‍♀️

That’s it! All of volume one

But I thought I would throw in a little Costis. As a treat.

I’ve always imagined Costis with a. Very square jaw/nose/chin/face. It seemed to fit his very honorable personality. I also always drew him with shorter hair, but I figured he’s been letting his curls grow a bit, and as soon as I drew the dark curl down across his forehead I said, “...why hello there, Clark Kent.” And then I just went with it.

Since I lied last time, you probably shouldn’t believe me when I say I won’t be finishing the rest of chapters anytime soon. I really don’t intend to as my life is actually very full and stressful right now. On the other hand, reading and drawing are some of my best coping strategies, so.... we’ll see.

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: this chapter is one that is very special to me and really echoes a lot of the same feelings that I’ve experienced through the years. writing this chapter felt really healing for me, as I hope maybe it can to you who might’ve felt the same. Because of this, please read the warnings below and read what you feel comfortable with! Remember that no matter who you are, or what you’ve gone through you absolutely deserve love!! 

Part 5 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, explicit language, HARD angst to FLUFFY fluff, mentions of alcohol, fingering (f receiving), squirting,  dry humping, nipple play, protected sex, fluffy sex, cockwarming

CWs: implications of jealousy and possession (past), non-con pressure, fist fighting, quite a bit of blood, bruises, and other wounds, mentions of a scar, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of nausea, mentions of low self worth and self deprecating habits 

Word count: 8.7k (grab a blanket, your plushie, some fuzzy socks...also I promise no other chapter will be this long LOL) 

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6

-Two years ago, and some change- 

Tonight was different. It could have been for a number of reasons. Maybe it was the way that he held onto your hand tighter than he usually did. You swayed your body next to his like you thought that you should have been doing. If you hadn’t you would have looked out of place. He hated when you looked out of place. The skimpy dress you had worn that night was just for him. You thought that he would like the way that the straps barely clung to your shoulders and the way that it was snug against your curves. 

He was watchful. Silent. You had known him to be a generally loud and gregarious person. He had many friends. Many of his friends you really did like; but, there were others that you had liked less...the friends with wandering and judging eyes. 

“Why her?” They would ask. 

“You could do better.” They would whisper in his ear when they thought that you couldn’t hear. 

“Isn’t she...boring?” 

“Not boring when I’ve got her alone.” 

The club was full of people; a suffocating amount. Bodies thrashed up against eachother in all their sweating heat. Shiny polyester and the tulle ruffles of shirts scratched against your skin in passing. Under the line of sight, no one could see where hands might reach or creep in the dark corners of that room. With the music blasting, no one could hearo f the sinful desires whispered from ear to ear. 

“Don’t you want to get outta here?” He had craned down to give you his message. 

“W-why don’t we just dance? I like this song.” 

“But we’ve been here for so long.” His hand gripped tight on your arm. “Really. Let’s get out of here.” 

“But--” 

“Let’s bounce. I don’t wanna be here any more. Let’s go have fun somewhere else.” 

Fear rose in your throat. His tone had changed to the one that you had been trying to keep at bay for weeks.

“Baby, I’m having fun!” You tugged back at your arm which he hadn’t released. Your brain worked quickly, and you did what you thought would’ve been distracting enough. You kissed him. 

Hard and fast you shoved your tongue down his throat in ways that you only would do when it had been the two of you alone. The music was loud. No one could hear the way he forced a moan into your mouth. Your hands wove deeply into his hair that was swathed in that cologne of his that was dizzying. It was saltwater and cinnamon. 

Your body pressed up flat against his chest and, as expected, he threw his arms back around you and kissed back with the same fervency that you tried to drench him in. 

Your words were breathless. “Can we...stay?” 

“Baby, how can you say that when you kissed me like that? God, if I could screw you right here and now...” 

His friends had been watching. Or pretending not to watch. It was no lie that their eyes had been peeping from the corners. 

“Let’s get some more drinks then? Hm? Maybe later we can head back to your--” 

“--NO! I want you now.” His words were violent, and his hands starved in his feverish way, yet still, he sucked his devilish smile into your neck. “Baby, please.” 

Just a few more drinks. That was all that it would take. Just a few more drinks and he would be a stumbling mess. He would forget his name and you and then he wouldn’t be able to take you anywhere. You loathed yourself for feeling that way, but it was the only solution you could think of. 

“Let’s go out back. No one walks down that alley, you know so.” 

A nervous laugh slipped off of your lips. “I-I know, but--it’s so cold outside, it’s snowing an-and it won’t be comfortable--” 

“--I don’t need comfortable, I just need you.” 

Lazily, his eyes met with one of his friendsand he flicked his finger to beckon him over. “You. Come with us. We’re gonna need someone to watch the door.” 

His friend scoffed and shoved his glass into the hands of a stranger. “Fine. What are you gonna pay me back with?” 

“I dunno, I’ll think of that later.” 

Your arm wiggled, a slight attempt to free yourself of his grasp. “Babe, babe, come on. I-it’s risky, an-and--” 

“--And what?!” 

“I-I don’t...I don’t...” 

“Babe I thought you liked it when we did risky stuff? Remember last week? The bathroom? You liked that didn’t you?” 

“That-that was different.” 

Above your heads the speakers boomed with a bass drop that you could feel vibrate in your chest. Strobe lights of dozens of different colors blinded your vision. Your head panged with a pain that must’ve been the alcohol, but with each passing second, you felt more and more lightheaded. Air just barely escaped from your lungs and your lungs felt like dead weight. 

His voice had been muffled. Your feet started taking steps that didn’t feel like they were their own. He used his body mass to part the sea of bodies, drawing you farther and farther away from it all. The two men chuckled as you neared the back of the building where the haze from the stage seemed to accumulate. 

“Stand right at this door and don’t let anyone get out from it. Don’t leave until we come back in.” 

His friend rolled his eyes, then took out his showy looking pen to take a long drag. He blew it into the other man’s face. “Have fun you two.” 

The cold winter air stung at your dry lungs. You realized then that you had forgotten your coat inside. Under your feet, flaky and white snow had mixed in potholes which had filled with iridescent oil. Together, the only thing that you could think of in that moment was how the two colors and mixed. In no way where they similar: one, black and slick, the other soft and pure. They made no sense. 

“Ohhhh...Baby.”

His breath was hot and it steamed in the air like some kind of deadly and wispy poison. His hands were big. Much bigger than yours, and they seemed to wrap you all up in them. They were magnets to your hips which fell into them with ease. He must’ve been cold too you figured: goosebumps formed on his arms where the falling snow fell on them. 

“You’re all mine. No one else’s. Don’t you ever forget that. Tell me. Who’s baby are you?” 

“Y-yours.” Your voice trembled. 

“That’s right.” 

His freezing hands swept up both sides of your face and you prayed that he couldn’t feel the tears stream from your eyes to his fingers. All at once, you felt nauseous, you felt sick, shame, rage, embarrassment and fear. With the adrenaline pumping in your ears, you did something even you didn’t expect. 

“S-stop.” 

His mouth continued lapping over yours, even your words which you repeated, 

“Stop!” 

“Baby, we’re just getting started!” Frigid fingers crept up your shirt to your bare skin. 

“I SAID STOP!” 

You had bitten his lip, and the metallic taste of his blood dripped onto your lip. 

“You bitch!” He stumbled, then wiped the blood to his finger. 

Hot tears fell freely, and your body shook: perhaps it was the cold, or your fright, but it shook every part of you. 

“What the fuck?!” He rose his hand in the air, “Who the fuck to you think--”

“--HEY!” 

A voice echoed down the alley and bounced off the brick walls. He was a black outline, but it was undoubtedly him who had shouted. He was still, but all at once he started running, sprinting towards you and you cowered to the snow. 

“Don’t you fucking--” 

The other man ran right up to the both of you. He was shorter, but crashed into the other taller man with a fist raised. He nearly had to jump a little, but he had knocked him square in the face with a horrible fleshy sounding thud. 

He finished his sentence, “-Don’t you fucking touch her!” 

The shorter man rubbed at his knuckles which had bloodied quickly. Your boyfriend had slipped on the ice a few steps back, falling to the ground clumsily and wetting it from the blood dripping from his mouth and nose. He laughed incredulously. 

“You pack quite a punch for a little guy don’t you? Well, you picked the wrong fight--” 

He rose to his feet with fists raised, then took a swing at the other man. He was agile, and ducked with ease, then twisted around the taller’s body to punch into his ribs. Still he didn’t miss each punch, and your boyfriend landed hits to his face as well. The stranger fell to the ground this time, groaning out and splashing into the cotton snow. While he was down, the taller man kicked into his sides. 

“How do you like that? Huh??? You have no FUCKING RIGHT. This is between me and my girlfriend, so, fuck. off.” 

The stranger spat blood to the white snow. “A-actually, I did have a right.” 

“What was that??” He kicked harder. 

“You-you were going to hit her? Weren’t you? Who the hell hits their girlfriend?” 

In one motion, the shorter man was back up on his feet, stumbling, but still swinging. He was weaker, but still punched into the taller man’s sides relentlessly. The two men sparred, and you felt frozen. It was as if you weren’t even breathing. 

Stop. Stop. Stop. Your thoughts rang, but your voice couldn’t muster it. 

“You’re the fucking--” Punch. “--Scum--” Punch. “--Of the--” Punch. “--Earth.” 

Your boyfriend’s eyes had become bloodshot red. In a mix of furious arms, he had scraped his wristwatch against the other man who cried out with a horrible sounding whimper, and then a flash of red started to flow down his arm. 

Your dress had soaked through with the freezing cold water and you had nearly buried your eyes into your arms. Never had you felt so small, so helpless. 

“HEY! What’s going on down here?” 

A flash of blue and red lights lit up the pitch black alley. 

“What’s going on??” 

The policeman’s voice buzzed over the loudspeaker on his car. 

The shorter man was a crumple on the ground and he hissed out with pain from his teeth. His arm quivered with pain from the gash that had been pressed into it. By contrast, the peaceful snow fell lightly onto his body and got tangled into his curled, dark hair. Your boyfriend; you hadn’t even seen him turn to sprint down the opposite side of the alley. 

Regardless, the stranger still managed, “Ar-are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

Your dry and tear-stained cheeks crinkled. “N-no. He didn’t.” 

“T-that’s good. Listen, I-I need to go. I can’t afford for them to take me. Ask them to help you and take you home. 

The clink of the policeman’s keys on his hip jingled as he neared. 

“I’m sorry I have to run.” He stumbled to his feet. For a few seconds, you could see his eyes under the flickering yellow streetlight. They weren’t brown or black, but some kind of dark stormy grey. 

He went running down the alley, as fast as he could manage with a limp to his leg and his dripping arm creating a trail behind him. 

As he ran, he left behind him a scent, foreign in the winter air. You couldn’t name it exactly, but you had guessed at least for then, it might’ve been something like rosemary and cedarwood. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

2am, and you felt euphoric. Like a fucking cloud. Even though it was typical, there really were no other words that could describe it. 

Felix and Chan bumped their hips against yours while they danced in the rhythm of the song that the DJ had played. Both of their bright smiles were utterly adorable, and the three of you doubled over in your laughter at each other’s terribly awkward dance moves. Chan made his best attempt at the robot, and Felix busted out some of his favorite internet dances. You rose your hand to the side of your face as if to say I don’t know them. Felix’s tiny hands interlaced into yours and you danced with him too while Chan mimed throwing dollar bills into the air. 

“How much longer?” You yelled over the music until it scratched your throat. 

“I don’t know! I didn’t get a chance to look at the line up!” Chan’s body bumped up against others in the crowd while he tried to check is phone. “It’s fine! I’m sure he should be coming on soon!” 

You couldn’t remember the last time  that you had been to a show that wasn’t to see Jisung. It was strange thinking about all of the things you used to worry about when you had gone to see him in the past: was your outfit sexy enough, had you remembered to put on your lip gloss...you’d even worry over stupid shit like if you had missed any spot on your legs while shaving. 

None of those worries filled you now. The clothes that you had put on in your haste made little sense, and were a bit warm in the room where sweat practically dripped from the walls. You had even left your apartment in such a hurry--you had been working on a new piece from a spark of inspiration during midday.

“He said that he was going near the end I think!!” You informed your friends. 

Chan did a little excited dance. You didn’t know if he was more thrilled over the fact that he was there or how you had promised to introduce him to Changbin after the show. 

The lights shifted, turning from pink to blue, and the music faded too. Your beating heart slowed as the atmosphere changed and Felix clawed back onto your arm. 

“Oh my God!!! I think that it’s gonna be him!!!” Chan nearly leapt into the air. 

It was frightening how familiar it all felt; you felt as if you had been transported right to that first night, the night that you had met him and the night that he had entranced you up on that stage. Everything in the room darkened, and the smoke slithered onto the stage. Everyone had quieted with their focus narrowing on the empty expanse that had been set up all for him. 

To the side of the stage, the announcer chuckled into the mic, “Ladies and Gents, as you know him...SPEAR B!” 

Music erupted like a crack of lighting over the speakers and was so sudden that nearly everyone in the crowd jumped out of their skin. The spotlights flooded the stage in a blinding white light, and before your eyes could process it, he had thrown himself to centerstage with some kind of magic or trick of the eye. It was so confusing, all you could do was stand in shock. 

Rapid fire lyrics flew off his tongue with lightspeed, and he carried himself around the stage with as much regality as a king. His hooded eyes held nothing but concentration at each of his words, and he threw his arms around with emphasis so you could hang onto every single syllable. He shone under the lights where he had adorned himself in his favorite array of silver and crystal jewelry: his trademark chain around his neck blinked like diamonds. Every curve of the muscles on his thick arms and thighs tensed and the vein on the side of his neck flared as he spoke. With a bite to his lip and an indulgent smile, he owned very single part of his own world. 

He was fucking mesmerizing. 

Felix and Chan were wildly flapping their bodies around and thrashing their heads along with every other body in the crowd, but you had stood still. It was unbelievable that you had been close to him. All your memories of him holding you softly in his arms, planting kisses into every tender inch of your skin seemed so far away, but so close. He couldn’t have been the same person. 

Your heart swelled with a pain. It might’ve been warning, precautionary, or fearful. Or, it might’ve been warm, intoxicated, infatuated. Your own mind couldn’t comprehend it. 

Over the hundreds of eyes in the crowd, somehow, he had found yours, and it was just as that first night had been. He was so massive, so crushing. His confidence was something so addictive and his gaze so thick that you felt as if it  was crushing. Still, there was one thing that was different about it now. 

He knew you. He wasn’t just some stranger. 

He knew your ins and outs, he knew your fears, the way that you would shy away from him or how you would lean into him closer. After that one meeting, you had encompassed everything that he could imagine, as he did for you. 

You had started as strangers, but now you couldn’t even imagine a time when you weren’t. 

He had broken his composure for mere seconds to smile at you. It was a simple: I see you. And you see me. 

It was cliché. Fucking cheesy as hell. God, it was sugary sweet and rotten; a phrase you hadn’t said in a year or more. But, with the dozens of other girls screaming it in that room, bumping with bodies and bass ringing, condensation on the walls and music louder than your own voice, you joined the cacophony.  Even if he couldn’t hear you screamed the words with your whole chest:

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU SEO CHANGBIN!” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

The music had subsided, and the stage lit to normal as the stagehands switched around the arrangement for the next act. You and your two friends were out of breath and exhausted. Sweat beaded on all of your brows and you felt it dripping down your back as well. The three of you stood laughing out in your euphoria: it as a high like none other. 

“Damn. Why do I really want ice cream right now?” Felix huffed out his laugher and slung Chan under his arm. “Doesn’t that sound like a really good idea?” 

Chan whipped the damp strands of hair from his eyes. “That does sound like a really good idea. But...you think any places will be open?” 

With surprised glances, the three of you burst out hysterically. 

You wiped an exhilarated tear from your eye, “We’d have to go to the store.” 

Somehow, it was the funniest thing that you could have said and Felix and Chan held their sides in their laughter. 

“Do-do you think that Changbin would want to come with us?” Felix helped fix your sweater which had become a bit ajar on your frame. 

“I don’t see why not.” 

Chan did another adorable little dance. “Holy hell. I can ask him about his process!!!.” He scooped you up into a tight hug. “This is so exciting!!!!!” 

“Just don’t...scare him away.” You patted into Chan’s hair with adoration. 

“He should be back out any minute right? He said he would come looking for you?” 

You nodded, feeling your heart start to race at the prospect. You hadn’t felt this giddy about the attention in a while--not at least, attention that had been given to you without a condition. 

Behind your little group, you felt a tug on your wrist, then your cheeks swelled with warmth. 

“Chang--” 

“--Holy fuck! You actually came!!” 

Jisung’s eyes lit up and an inhumanely wide smile spread across his face. 

“...Jisung--” 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it, you actually came! Shit, I really thought that after we talked the other day that--” 

Chan ripped Jisung’s grip from your wrist. “You better cut that out.” Once as giddy as he was before, his expression had turned deadly serious. 

“What are you doing here?” Felix pushed you slightly behind him. 

“Performing? This is my show too. I’m on in thirty. You’re here to see me too?” 

“Like hell we are.” Chan rolled his eyes. 

Jisung chose to ignore him, bringing his attention back to you. 

“B-baby, thank you so much for coming, and for giving me another chance--” 

“--Another chance? Y/n, what is he talking about?” Felix asked, then both of your friends eyes were on yours. 

A knot formed back up in your throat with your decisions that you had let hang since you had las spoken to Jisung. You thought you had been clear enough to him, and you had told your friends you had thought that you had ended it. 

Chan huffed out an authoritative sigh, “We’re leaving. Come on,” he wrapped an arm around both you and Felix. “Let’s just get out of here.” 

“No! Wait! Y/n don’t leave! Let-let’s talk about this, y-you never let me see you any more, I’ve been missing you...missing you like crazy,” His grip reached out to you once more, pulling your whole arm closer to him with a pain that panged in your shoulder. “--since you’re here...let’s just talk this out okay?” 

The music in the room grew louder once more, and the next act entered the stage with the announcer’s enthusiastic voice. The lights flashed out, and suddenly all of your bodies were bathed in red, pink, and blue light. 

Another memory, from another night, flashed before your eyes. He held onto your arm tighter than he usually did. His incessant eyes pleaded over to yours like he had countless times before. 

“Jisung, stop.” 

“I-I just don’t understand! Let’s not do this here! Can’t we go somewhere private where the two of us can talk? Baby--” 

Another hand grasped at your opposite arm, then it snuck around your waist. 

“--What the hell do you think you’re doing to her?”  

Changbin pulled you into his chest with a force that knocked the wind out of your lungs, then he immediately inspected the arm where the other had grabbed you so tightly. 

“Did he hurt you? Let me see.” 

Chan and Felix’s eyes widened in their shock. 

Jisung pushed himself closer. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing Changbin? Don’t get involved in this, it doesn’t concern you.” 

“Actually, yes, it does.” 

Everything was unfolding before your eyes, and you felt faint. All the secrets, lies, the way that you had entangled yourself in it all, was crushing you like vines with thorns. Your fear bit bile in your throat, and you couldn’t decide if you felt strong enough to run. 

Before you could say anything about it, Changbin pulled you out from the crowd, faster than your wobbling legs could handle. He was furious, you could tell, but he tried his best not to let it seep over to you. Changbin muttered curses under his breath, but pushed forward, past the dancing bodies, past the stage, past the maze of speakers and other sound equipment in the back. 

“Let’s just get out of here okay?” His fingers dug into your waist. 

Behind you, Felix and Chan shoved their way a few paces behind, ultimately getting caught in the web of people moving this way and that. Not far behind them, was Jisung thrashing with all his might to catch up. 

With your heartbeat in your ears, words started spilling out from your mouth: 

“Changbin, I didn’t tell you--I-I still haven’t told you, but you need to know before--” 

Changbin swung the back door to the venue and it slammed behind you with a metallic clang. It was nearly blizzarding outside, but he didn’t seem to care at all. Rather, he pulled you back into his chest to hug you tightly. He was desperate in the way that he hung onto your body; like he was trying to suck the very life from you. 

“Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you? I’m so sorry I couldn’t get there sooner. He’s a fucking dick, I won’t let him touch you again, I promise.” 

Your nose clogged immediately, and your sobs came out choked and full of utter fear. 

I’m going to loose him. I’ll lose him. He’ll hate me. He’ll let go, and never come back. 

“Chang-Changbin...Jisung, he was--” 

“Beautiful, why are you crying? Stop, stop, it’s okay.” He soothed you, wiping the tears from your cheeks that got muddled with snow. He too had snow clinging to his eyelashes and his hair that was also strung with sweat. 

The back door swung open with another startling clank, and Jisung threw himself out of it with Felix and Chan holding him back by the arms. 

“HE DOESN’T EVEN FUCKING KNOW HER!” Jisung screeched, then tore free of both of your friends. 

He lunged himself at Changbin who had seconds to respond. He turned his back to shield you with his body, and Jisung clawed with an animalistic energy. 

“HE DOESN’T FUCKING KNOW HER!” Jisung had been sobbing too, then swung a haphazard fist to Changbin’s back. 

Felix and Chan came rushing to catch you as you fell into their arms, then Changbin swiftly turned to return the hit. 

“Me?? You’re fucking crazy!!” He dodged another hit. “What the hell do you know about her?? Huh? YOU don’t know a thing about her!!” 

Jisung wiped his eyes then threw another lazy punch. “What are you talking about???” 

The two men stood still, both of them turning to turning to look at you with heaving chests. In your friends arms you trembled, and your worst nightmares unfolded right in front of your face. Your body fell to the ground, and the snow seeped into your clothes, just as it did on that night so long ago. 

“Holy shit.” Jisung grabbed both sides of his head in his realization. “She fucking played us. SHE FUCKING PLAYED ME.” 

Changbin cast his eyes away from you, just as he had when he had barely known a thing about you. He wouldn’t give you the pleasure. 

“You were fucking her too, weren’t you?” Jisung laughed out like a madman. “So that’s what she’s been doing this whole time I haven’t seen her. She’s been fucking you and--” 

Changbin’s fist rose, and it came crashing into the side of Jisung’s face so suddenly that you and your friends jumped from how fast he had done it. 

He said nothing, but proceeded to raise his fist again, then sent it right back into the soft of Jisung’s cheek before he had a minute to respond to the first. Jisung whimpered, then spat blood out of his mouth. His tears had returned, but this time, they were infused in his own anger. The two boys steadied their stance, looking into each other’s eyes with lethal rage. Jisung attacked back with a yell that echoed through the alley, and he too landed punches to Changbin’s sides in sharp hooks. Changbin then grabbed the other man’s shirt collar, pulling him close, then knocking him back with red and bloody fists. 

The two boys scuffled and slipped in the snow which had slicked on the ground to make each of their steps clumsy. Jisung sobbed through each of his punches, whereas Changbin held his teeth shut with a grit, merely grunting as he swung more and more. Your own tears blurred your vision, and your chest felt tight; nearly like it was about to burst. Your friends clung to your body just as tight, hushing to you and yelling at the boys to stop, but their voices sounded distant and faint. 

Jisung landed punch to Changbin’s eye which split the skin there on his eyebrow. Changbin returned the favor in the same spot, creating the same effect. With crackled lips they swore at eachother, and you could only make out one phrase from Changbin’s mouth: 

“Don’t you. Fucking. Touch her.” 

The door swung, “Changbin?” 

Minho hugged his coat around himself, only to jump out of his skin at the scene in front of him. He dodged two of Jisung’s swings as he clambered over to his roommate to hold him back. He was nearly two seconds late: with a roar, the two boys landed terrible blows at eachother, knocking them both to the ground. 

“‘Bin--stop, STOP!” Minho wrapped his arms around his friend. 

Just as he did, two other boys exited from the venue: one of them tall with long black hair and the other with hair as white as the snow. 

“Fuck you.” Jisung growled dizzily, and his two friends swooped in to help him back to his feet. They too looked furious, but Jisung waved them off groggily. “Don’t w-waste your fucking time. Y-you--” He pointed directly at Changbin. “D-don’t waste your time...on her. I-I’m such a fucking fool.” 

“Sung, let’s get out of here.” Jisung’s tall friend urged him. “Anyone on that street could’ve called the cops.” 

Minho held Changbin up then looked to you and your startled friends eyes seriously. “We need to leave too.” 

“We need to get him to a hospital.” Felix’s voice cracked. 

“You think that he can afford a bill? N-no. We can’t do that. I’ll explain later...he’ll be fine. He’s done this to himself before. Idiot.” Minho slugged his roommates arm over his shoulder and Chan rushed to grab the other. 

Your legs shook when Felix helped you to your feet. Any second, you thought they would give out. Thick strands of blood and saliva caught on Changbin’s lip. Seeing him like that made you feel even sicker. It was all your fault. 

“M-My place is close-by. We can go there.” You locked eyes with Minho. 

“Okay. We’ll go there.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Your hands trembled violently once you brought your key to your lock. They burned with the cold, and were wet from how you had clawed at the snow. 

“Here, let me.” Felix gently offered. 

Your apartment was an absolute wreck. Tiny as it was, you had managed to make a mess of it all with art supplies, dirty dishes, hundreds of sticky notes with reminders and textbooks. As you entered, you swept everything to the side with your feet. 

“W-what do we do?” Chan’s own fingers had turned pink from the cold where he held Changbin: head slumped and blinking hazily, then shivering furiously--the action thus making him groan out in pain. 

“He-he’s freezing. There’s blood...” You fell from Felix’s arms. “I-I have to help him.” Once more, tears welled in your eyes. “We need to get him warm. Get him in the shower and clean him off.” 

“Okay. Where’s the bathroom?” 

You guided the group of boys down your hall where it became a group effort to remove him of his soaked clothes. Your pants had also been soaked through, but that didn’t even phase you; not when blood stained his mouth. He slumped his body over into four pairs of arms. 

“I can take it from here.” You closed the door behind yourself. 

Just as you did, you caught Chan’s surprised and widened eyes after Minho had leaned back from his ear. “He’s the son of WHO?” 

You shimmied your own clothes off, ignoring your own shivering as you held him up. The act itself was difficult, and you had given up when it came to your undergarments. It didn’t matter much, so you left them on, along with his. All you wanted was to get the blood off of him--you couldn’t bear to see it. 

The warm water on your skin felt unreal: a blanket of warmth to dissolve away the chill that clung to your body. It was as if you were defrosting: melting away the illness, the poison, the doubt and the fear. For a moment, you let yourself think that it was that simple. 

“Y/n” 

At your feet, the water turned from clear to pink. 

“What is it?” You hushed above the sound of the shower, and Changbin rested his forehead on your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why? You shouldn’t be sorry...I’m the one that should be.” 

“N-no.” He coughed, “I feel so sorry.” 

“Changbin--” 

“--Why him? Why him when he would treat y-you like shit? I-I know how he is.” 

“I-I don’t know...” 

It was a funny thing crying in the shower. It was somewhat like you weren’t crying at all with how your tears mixed with the stream. 

He sniffled, “I-I’m not mad at you. I mean...I was, but...I just don’t understand.” 

“Please, be mad at me. Be fucking furious. T-this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret--” 

Changbin chuckled, then rose his head, lips bloodied, one eye squinted, with a smile on his face. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“You’re holding me back. I didn’t have to do it this time.” 

At first, you didn’t know what it meant. But then, you realized. You had been clinging on to him for dear life: your arms completely wrapped around him, even now when he was standing on his own. 

“I thought that I gave a damn since it was him--it made me so fucking mad that it was him but...” 

“...What?” 

“Fuck me, but...I love you.” 

 You shook your head vehemently, tears crossing with the warm trickle of water.  “N-no, you don’t.”

He chuckled once more, “I think I’d know if I did or didn’t.” 

“Don’t say that.” Your chest shook. 

“Why?” 

“B-because you don’t mean it. You can’t love me.” 

“Why not?” 

His hands, bruised and pink cupped both sides of your face. 

“Someone like me...You can’t fucking love me.” 

“What? You’re not making any sense. Y/n, I think I’ve fucking loved you since the first night that I met you, and you can’t stop me from loving you. Listen, you don’t even have to love me back for now, but can you at least accept how I feel for you?” 

How was it you had been able to scream it before, but couldn’t find the words now? 

Heated steam filled up your shower, and dripped from the walls. His skin too dipped with drops of that water. You thought to yourself how the blood and the water mixed, the two colors didn’t work together at all. Why was all you could think of colors? 

“Okay?” He asked. 

Your own hands took to his soft cheeks, where you brushed away any streaks of red you could see there. 

You closed your yes after, succumbing to the feeling that the water brought you: melting, fading, dissolving, just like the way that watercolors blended from one to the other on a page. You felt Changbin press his forehead into yours. 

“I-I think that I love you too--but--I’m so scared. So fucking scared.” 

He let out a relieved “oh” then pressed his lips gently into yours. Each kiss after the other was more and more careful. He poured his whole being into your quivering lips. 

“Please don’t be scared. Don’t be scared of me. I swear that I won’t hurt you, I never want to. I mean it. Please don’t run from me.” 

Here you were, worrying that he was the one to run from you. You felt pathetic thinking how patient he had been with you, how much he had put up with, and what he had just done, all for you. 

He kissed more “pleases” into your mouth, then drew you flush against his chest. 

You held onto him tighter. “Do you mean it?” 

He nodded, then craned his neck to fill your mouth with more of his answers, and it did feel like the way that watercolors faded into one another. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Will he be okay?” 

Felix, Chan, you, and Minho sat on your couch with mugs warming your hands. In the past half hour or so, none of you had said much. 

Minho sighed. “He will be. He just needs to rest now. I’ll take him to the clinic tomorrow, see if anything is wrong. Knowing him...thick skulled asshole...” He scoffed with a smirk, “--He’s fine.” 

“T-that’s good.” Chan took a sip. “He fell asleep?” 

“Right after we got out of the shower. Lucky I stole some of Chan’s joggers back then. I put him in my bed and he was out like a light. Didn’t say that anything else hurt.” 

In unison, the four of you took another anxious sip. 

“He can stay here tonight? If that’s okay with you?” Minho asked. 

“Yeah. That’s fine. I don’t think he wants to move wither.” 

Felix looked about himself awkwardly. “Wellll I think that we should get going then. Y/n, call us if you need anything?” 

“Mmhm.” 

A silence filled the air. 

“Y/n, did you know?” Chan blurted out. 

“Me? Know what?” 

Minho shot the other man a deadly glare, then cleared his throat. “Bin’s dad is some high ranking politian. Someone so high that we’d know his name: that’s how he explained it to me. He left his whole life with them to rap. If he had gotten caught tonight, in the alley or some hospital with his real name, it would’ve been all over the news. He’s been trying his best to be invisible since high school...doesn’t want to tarnish the family reputation or something, even though they practically hate him....I don’t get it. They basically disowned him after he said he wanted to do rapping, not like he minded though. His surname isn’t even Seo.” 

“Do you know what it is? His surname?” 

“He’s never told me and I never asked.” 

Another silence fell over your group. 

“...He never told me.” You watched the steam of your tea. 

“And I didn’t tell you either, alright? This stays between us.” 

Felix mocked a zip over his lips. 

“Guess I’ll have to ask him about him about his artistic process another time then, hm?” Chan cracked his sarcasm with an airy laugh. 

“Guess so.” You tried your best to laugh back. “Thank you for tonight. All of you.” You met each boys eyes and each of them nodded in understanding. 

Felix clapped his friend’s back. “Let’s head out.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

One light was left on in your room: the strand of pink string lights that you hung over the wall your bed was against. The rest of your room was cluttered as well with clothes strewn about and your backpack contents scattered all across the floor. From your tiny and aged window, snow had accumulated in the corners, and further, the yellow and red lights of the city sparkled. Just as you were about to pull the plug for the lights, Changbin groaned out groggily. 

“Wait...what are you doing?” 

“Turning off the lights. I’m going to go to sleep too now. I wanna give you some space. I’ll go over on the couch.” 

“No!” He roused himself, “No. Don’t do that. Can you...stay in here?” 

“Sleep with you?” 

“If you want? I wouldn’t mind.” He smirked, ever cocky. Nothing took that from him. “Two bodies are warmer than one.” 

“Bin...” 

His smile really was just a bit too cute. 

“Mm. I like it when you call me that.” He reached out his arm to tempt you in. “Please? Come on.” 

You toyed with his forearm, shaking it a little like you were throwing a tantrum. “Do I have to?” 

“Hey! We just had a fuckin’ moment! I just bore my frickin’ heart for you.” 

“I’m just teasing. I will.” 

Right by his wrist, a puffy scar caught your eye, and you wondered if you had missed cleaning one of his wounds. You turned his arm over, revealing the gnarly scar: a stripe, about 3 inches long running parallel to his arm. 

“What’s this?” You studied it further. 

“Oh. That. Don’t get mad, but, tonight’s fight wasn’t my first. Some fucker with a watch or a bracelet or something tore the shit outta my arm this one time.” He inspected it himself, “It’s my battle scar. I’m kinda proud of it. If I hadn’t stepped in, who knows what he would’ve done to his girlfriend? There’s a special place in hell for guys like him.” 

Stormy grey eyes. 

Rosemary and cedarwood. 

You thought you had cried all the tears that would’ve been possible that night. Blurred memories, the ones that you had tried so desperately to forget came flooding over you. How you hadn’t known...was beyond you. 

“Hey...” Changbin scooched back up to wipe your tears. “Tears again? What’s wrong?” His thumbs wiped them away. “You can tell me?” 

“It-it was you??” 

“Me? Me what?” 

“On that night, in the alley when it was snowing, I-I was alone and he...” 

Changbin’s eyes too blew out, then his own tears gathered in the corners. “Holy shit...that was you too?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh my god.” 

Instinctually, he threw his arms around you, back into his scent that was just as clear as the real first night you had met him. Together, you both turned into babbling, sniffling messes. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Your voice shook. “I’ve always wanted to thank you. I-I can’t believe--” 

“--Come here.” 

Changbin swept you off your feet and wrapped all of his limbs around your body where he had pulled you into the bed, finally sweeping the covers over top of both your bodies with a kiss to your forehead. 

“You’ve gone though so much. Fuck, I don’t know how you’ve done it.” 

Your own hands snaked around his body. “Bin...”

“We’re kind of impossible aren’t we? All those years ago, and now...” 

“Thank you.” You kissed into his mouth, silencing him something much sweeter than your secrets. 

His body shifted, and he returned with his own kisses, each one slow and careful. He twisted his body to lean slightly over you, wincing at the pain that it caused him. 

“Fuck. That hurt.” He sighed with a tiny pout, “But, I don’t want to stop kissing you.” 

You bit a little smile into his lips. “Don’t push yourself.” 

“What? I can’t help it.” 

This time, you pushed him back to swiftly cast your legs on either side of his hips to straddle him. “This better?” 

He hummed out a happy yes, reaching down to pull your lips into his again. Like it always had been, you could’ve kissed him like this for ages, and time would slip into nothingness: a mere construct undefinable. Outside, the world was still dark and cold, but inside, the heat of your two bodies mingling banished it all away. 

“By the way, I wanted to tell you that I think that your art is beautiful.” Changbin broke momentarily, then pointed to your unframed paintings stuck to the walls with painters tape. “I’ve never seen anything like them. I don’t know why you keep them hidden here. The world should see them.” 

“Trying to get into my pants now? Who told you to say that?” 

From your string lights, his whole being was bathed in a soft pink light. 

“No one. But I mean it...you know, if I wasn’t debilitated, who knows what I would do to you right now.” 

“Woooow, you talk such big game.” 

He shot you a teasing glance. “I’ll fucking do it, fuck my probably broken-or- bruised ribs.”  

“No! Don’t do that.” You chuckled. “Don’t hurt yourself.” With a newfound confidence, you lowered your body to hover your lips over his own. “What if I go easy on you....nice and slow? Didn’t you say once that you liked to take things slow?” 

His eyes darkened as he mimicked your tone. “Anything as long as it’s with you.” After, his hands swept all the way down your back, lightly brushing up the fabric of your sleep-shirt, then to kneed into your ass. “Will you let me love you tonight?” 

“Will you let me love you back?” 

“Yes.” 

You shoved your hips down into his, grinding as purposefully as you could over his half-hard dick and shivering at the sensation over your clit. Both of your bodies trembled at the action. Under the cotton sheets and down comforter, there was nothing that could have felt cozier against the bare skin of your arms, and the way that his fingertips traced scribbles into your back. 

In seconds, he had pulled your shirt off your head, kissing little moans into your mouth once his hands had found your breasts. All the while, you kept your hips moving, reveling in the way that with each thrust of your hips you had felt yourself get wetter. He pulled and tweaked at your nipples which hardened them instantly, and you bowed down to kiss him on all the places where he didn’t know he had needed the attention: on the tip of his nose, in the corners of his mouth, over that scar on his chin, fluttering over his bruised eyelid, overtop the Band-Aid above his eyebrow, giving care to all the little scrapes on his cheeks. 

He had keened his hips upwards, now properly hardened from your friction against him. Even just like this, his length felt heavenly. With a careful prompt, he guided your torso upward, granting his mouth better access of your perky nipples which he took into his mouth greedily. Even greedier hands cascaded down your stomach to your boyshorts where he pulled at the elastic. After, he ghosted his touch over the thin fabric separating him from touching your clit. The sensation nearly sent you topping over, but rather you grabbed at the iron headboard to your bed to steady yourself. Changbin blew his words over your nipples with a cool air. 

“Can I?” 

“Do you even need to ask?” You chuckled out. 

“Of course I do.” He hooked two fingers to help you shake the fabric off your legs. “I always do.” 

First, he pulled you down into his lips; a distraction, then he coaxed his digits into your folds. You hadn’t known how embarrassingly wet you had become, but that was nothing compared to the reality of it. The sounds of your slick coating his fingers was loud enough to make you giggle, and for him to return it. 

“That excited huh?” His index finger rubbed faint circles around your clit. 

“W-what about it?” 

“I just think that its cute.” He removed his hand to show you the way that your arousal strung around his fingers. “‘So wet for me, aren’t you angel?” 

“Mmhm.” Your hips did their own helpless dance over the pads of his fingers once he had brought them back down. “S-shit.” 

A wicked smile spread over his face as he indulged in you more. Back and forth, he traced around your swollen clit, then down to your entrance, barely giving you any contact at all. 

“Remember our first night? Hmm? Remember what I did to you? ...I could do it again...” 

“B-Bin...” You gasped out his name at the thought. 

His tongue slicked over your bottom lip, “Would you like that?” His index and middle finger swept even rougher swipes over your clit which sent you mewling back on his tongue. 

“Yes? Or no? Use your words Beautiful.” 

That intense feeling, that unreal feeling...you would’ve been lying if you had said you hadn’t dreamed of it. 

“...yes. I want you to.” 

“Okay my love. Just relax. Lean on me if you have to, okay?” 

“It won’t hurt you?” 

“No. Not at all.” 

With your quivering thighs, his hand dipped back down and toyed with the heat of your folds and angrily sensitive clit. Your choked moans muffled into the crook of his neck where you had buried your face. Every single touch of his made your body feel as if it was aflame. Relentlessly, he switched from circling to stopping, every once and a while slipping a couple fingers to stretch out your entrance. He wouldn’t grant it to you fully yet, but his curved digits teased at your g-spot for only seconds at a time. 

In his ears, you filled them with “more, more, more’s” and little whimpers of “deeper, deeper, please, deeper.” 

“More? Is that what you want?” 

He winced terribly at the action, but he pushed you off from on top of him till you were flat on your back, screwing his fingers into you deeply. 

“I’ll give you as much as you want.” He kissed the words to your collarbones. 

All at once, his pace was renewed, and his fingers curved up sharply inside of your pussy to simulate your g-spot as roughly and quickly as he could. In his skill he gave your clit attention with his flattened thumb. The overwhelming feeling built in your core and inched closer second by second. Your control over your body slipped past you, and you fell completely into the feeling. 

You came with a uncontrollable shake of your whole body, and a release of pressure that made you into a moaning mess--that of which you didn’t need to be careful of if you had been too loud or not. Freely, you convulsed with that indescribable feeing, and your liquids wetted both your thighs and the fringes of the sheets which Changbin just barely removed from your body. 

“Fuck. Fuck.” 

In his adoration, the man above you proudly chuckled at your body still quivering with aftershocks. 

“Think you can take a little more after that? Take your time angel.” 

Your head spun, but it did so only for a moment. As you came down, Changbin kissed one, two, three, little kisses into your shoulder while he admired the way that your body shook. 

You nodded, laughing at the fact that you really did have no idea what time it was, nor could you even guess. 

“Do you have--” 

“--Dresser. O-over there.” A weak finger of yours pointed to your side table. 

A series of grunts slipped out of him, but he rolled himself over to take a condom from the strand and take care of it himself. He hid is tiny embarrassed smirk once he laid down. 

“Angel, I-I think that you’ll have to--” 

“--I know.” 

Back to your origional position, you aligned your entrance against his length which was still as red and hardened as ever. 

“Nice and slow right?” 

With one hand, you guided his dick into your velvet walls. 

“Oh shit.” Changbin pulled at your lip with is teeth upon the first roll of your hips. “Just like that. Just...like that.” 

It was beautiful, the way that he felt inside you. It had hurt a bit the first time, but now, it was different. The way that he filled you up was perfection: you were perfect for him, and he was for you. 

“D-don’t stop.” He pleaded while he scraped his nails down your back. 

To think, the one who had told you he didn’t say “please” was now at your mercy. It took everything you had not to let it go to your head. 

He angled his hips upward, pushing himself even deeper, and you nearly lost your composure at the feeling. Your core tightened again, and you let yourself grind over him, not stopping once. 

“F-fuck. Bin, ah! Shit--” 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” Became his breathless mantra. “Y-you fuck me so good angel.”

Clambering lips came colliding and you rode out your orgasm on his dick fiercely, connecting your mouth with his so he could feel every little bit of the pleasure that he gave you. He did the same, spilling his euphoric “ah ah’s” all over your lips and eventually to your neck where he sucked carelessly upon his own orgasm. You milked every last bit of him from his throbbing erection until he shook and begged you to stop his overstimulation. 

Perhaps because you were tired, or you craved the feeling, but not a bone in your body wanted to move. 

“Can we stay like this...for a while?” 

Changbin kissed his answer back to you. 

“For as long as you like.” 

Yes, the both of you had turned to sweating messes, and the scent of sex hung heavy around the both of you. Of course, it smelled just a little like rosemary and cedarwood. Wrapped up in one another like this, there was no telling where you began and he ended. 

Until the sun peaked at the horizon, he filled you to the brim with his “I love you’s” anywhere that he could manage: into the palms of your hands, into the love bites he had painted onto your chest, onto your ears which he nibbled, and, into your sleepy eyes which had held his for as long as you could, until the allure of sleep drew both of them closed. 

[monstersandmaw]

Male vampire x male character - Part Three (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is going to be a four-parter, folks! And here's 3866 words of Part Three for you. Angst ahoy, but you know me, ok, so trust me. Here we meet Alec's little brother, and you'll find out why Sebastien was so jumpy and weird about the Twayblade name.

Part One, Part Two

Alec’s ‘one night stand’ with Sebastien turned into a whole month of of ‘one-night-stands’, and culminated in Sebastien asking him to dinner the following weekend - a pattern which repeated itself every weekend after that.

Sure, the sex was probably the most incredible sex that Alec had ever experienced in his entire life, but what he came to enjoy even more was the time they spent over meals and cups of tea in the intervening time, talking about everything from history to politics to video games and books and everything else besides. Sebastien talked about literature a lot, and Alec sketched him and illustrated his conversations while he spoke.

“You could really make something of yourself with talent like that,” Sebastien had murmured once as Alec had doodled a quick rendition of the Victory of Samothrace on the back of a coffee shop receipt one afternoon in the park.

“Meh,” he shrugged without looking up. “I’d like to, but I’ve got a steady job now, you know? I’m not going to throw it all away just because some gallery might take my work and I might make something of a name for myself, you know?”

Sebastien sighed. “Talent is such an overused word, and great art is rarely based on raw talent alone, but with your dedication over the years, you’ve really honed what natural abilities you have into something exceptional, Alec. I think you should make a go of it at least.”

Alec had flushed, and Sebastien had been distracted by the rising colour his cheeks long enough to abandon that train of thought in favour of kissing him silly on a park bench, and Alec hadn’t much minded.

At an Iranian restaurant near Alec’s place one Friday, four weeks after Halloween, Sebastien leaned on his elbow and popped a fragrant and decadent zoolbia into his mouth, and Alec watched, oddly fixated by the way his fingers held the little fried treat. His eyes, dark and warm and inviting, blinked slowly and he offered Alec a slow-dawning smile that stole his breath.

“We should go to the museum again,” Alec he blurted, thinking back three days when they’d spent their lunchtime meandering around the Italian Renaissance gallery together.

“Mmm?” he asked, licking his fingers in a way that made Alec’s jeans tighten and his throat close.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I mean, I know you’re not sick of me waxing endlessly about quattrocento art just yet…” he said, sipping his delicious cup of tea and trying not to choke on it as Sebastien’s ankle skimmed up his leg beneath the table.

“No,” Sebastien admitted. “You’re right. I’m not.”

With the bill paid by Sebastien this time, after Alec had bought them lunch the previous day, the two of them left the cosy warmth of the restaurant and stepped out into a bitter November night. “Oh fuck it’s cold,” Alec swore immediately, drawing up the collar of his coat.

“You want to head home?” Sebastien asked, a hand on the small of his back.

Unconsciously, Alec leaned into it and smiled up at him. They’d not yet been to Alec’s apartment, and he found himself more and more reluctant to let Sebastien in now that he’d seen the stunning penthouse that he called home. “If you’re sure? I think your wardrobe has more square footage than my entire place though…”

“Alec,” he purred, taking Alec’s hand in his and squeezing his fingers. “I —”

“—You’re freezing,” he commented, interrupting whatever Sebastien had been about to say.

“I don't tend to run hot,” he conceded, “But neither do I feel the cold much. I’d like to see your home, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He leaned in close and kissed the junction of Alec’s jaw and neck for a moment, his lips lingering, tongue just lapping at his skin and sending shivers down Alec’s whole body, shorting out his brain for a heartbeat or six. Sebastien raked his teeth over Alec’s pounding pulse point and he went still, frozen in a paroxysm of pleasure and, oddly, a strange thrill of fear he couldn’t quite place. Instead of pulling away when he recovered himself, however, he tilted his head further to one side, offering himself to Sebastien’s mouth, and the other man moaned decadently, deepening his attentions.

Sebastien’s hands found Alec’s belt and he tugged him sharply closer so that their hips met. Alec tried not to grind himself against Sebastien — they were still on a public street for goodness’ sake — but desire was washing through him in pulsing waves and it was becoming harder and harder to think rationally. That wasn’t the only thing that was becoming hard either, and he let out a harsh grunt before forcing himself to step back with a sheepish grin.

When he looked up at Sebastien, he found that the slightly taller man had frozen and was breathing hard, eyes closed, lips pursed together as though restraining himself from something.

“You ok?”

“Fine,” Sebastien hissed, still not opening his eyes.

Alec frowned. Sebastien looked like he was in pain of all things. “You sure? You look —”

“I’m fine!” he snapped through a clenched jaw. “Let’s go. You’re right. It is cold.”

The short walk to Alec’s apartment passed in tense silence, with Sebastien keeping his eyes locked downwards on the pavement, though he did deign to hold Alec’s hand. He couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he’d pushed things too far in public, given how proper Sebastien tended to be, but then again, Sebastien was the one who had deepened the gesture by practically mauling at his neck for three minutes straight back then.

Alec’s apartment building wasn’t fancy at all, and it certainly didn’t have a doorman, and once they’d stumbled in through the hallway with the busted light fitting in the ceiling, Alec smashed the elevator call button only to find it dull and non-responsive. “Damn,” he cursed. “Out of order again. Stairs?”

“If needs be,” Sebastien said with a gracious smile.

“This would never happen over at Buckingham Palace,” he quipped back, and Sebastien cracked a smile at Alec’s silly nickname for his apartment block.

“Exercise will shake all that dinner down,” he conceded.

Alec twitched his eyebrows in agreement and held the door open to the stairwell for him. As he passed by in the confined space, Sebastien stopped and leaned in, taking Alec’s jaw in his cool hands and kissing him gently, reverently, on the lips.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I was rude back then.”

Alec shrugged, feeling awkward at the sheer, heartfelt tenderness in the gesture.

“I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

“I like it when you’re rougher with me,” he smirked. “You should know that after a month of fucking me senseless.”

As if Alec’s words had hit him like a sledgehammer to the nuts, Sebastien rolled his eyes and grimaced, but he did laugh. “You do seem to like a firm hand, granted,” he said. “Let’s get upstairs shall we? Before I take you right here, and I’m not sure how sanitary this situation is…”

Alec needed no more encouragement, and he didn’t even get to give Sebastien the fleeting, one-minute tour of his tiny flat before the man was on him, kissing him blind and backing him into a wall hard enough to knock the wind from him. Sebastien came alive in moments like that, when he could kiss him and lavish attention on Alec, and the latter was not about to stop him.

It wasn’t long before Sebastien’s wandering lips found Alec’s neck again, and as Alec gasped, fists balled into Sebastien’s shirt collar, he felt the sharp prick of teeth quickly followed by the generous suck of a love bite in the making. His knees went weak and he nearly staggered as a huge rush of endorphins swam through his mind, leaving him limp and wobbly all over. Well, almost everywhere.

“I want you,” he gasped, and Sebastien lost no time in locating the tiny bedroom and tossing him onto the bed, stripping them both with startlingly attractive efficiency. Alec barely managed to yank a bottle of lube and a box of condoms from his top drawer before Sebastien was spreading his legs and laving his tongue up over the curve of his balls.

“Oh fuck me,” Alec exclaimed as Sebastien’s slick finger slid into him and he hissed at the intrusion. A moment later, he was lying with his head flung back into the pillows while Sebastien slid a second inside him and began to do just that with his fingers until Alec was finally ready — and more than desperate — for Sebastien’s cock.

Sebastien had a beautiful body, all lean, corded muscle and slender lines, and as he got more and more aroused, his deep olive skin seemed to glow almost supernaturally. He was perfection incarnate. Bernini couldn’t have carved him, even if he’d been given a lifetime to try. Alec was no Bernini but he’d still love to sculpt him.

Sebastien chuckled sweetly and crooked his finger, sending a jolt of searing pleasure through Alec so hard his vision whited out for a moment and his back arched. “I’m flattered,” Sebastien murmured, placing open-mouthed, messy kisses down Alec’s leg as he spontaneously bent that knee up.

“Shit, I said that out loud…” he laughed, still vague and giddy with the sensations sparking under his skin.

“Mmm,” he smiled, lowering his face to Alec’s inner thigh and kissing fervently all up his leg to the crease of his thigh and hips before smoothing his leg back down onto the bed. His breath fanned out across Alec’s sensitive skin and he quivered and bucked, causing Sebastien’s curled finger to brush his prostate again and he yelled.

“Please…”

Moments later, Sebastien entered him at last and stilled, allowing him to adjust to the new intrusion.

When he fucked him like this, Sebastien seemed to take on a new energy, becoming something almost more primal, and Alec lived for it. The expression on his face as he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the heat of Alec’s body closing around him, taking him, drawing him in, was something he would never get used to, no matter how many times it happened. He was certain of it.

“You’re so tight,” Sebastien grunted, easily shifting Alec’s hips up a degree or two and adjusting his own angle so that he could thrust into his prostrate with every stroke.

Alec’s words failed him as immense pleasure ripped through him, building and building. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he barely managed to grunt as Sebastien somehow picked up the pace and began to pound into him with renewed vigour. The man seemed utterly devoted to Alec’s pleasure, as if it was the only thing driving him.

With an utterly inhuman snarl, Sebastien opened his mouth and whispered, “Come for me.”

The sheer weight of command in his voice tore through Alec and he came instantly, untouched, painting his torso with ropes of his release and wrenching Sebastien’s own orgasm from him by sheer force a second after.

Sebastien curled forwards with a hiss, hips spasming as he released, and his lips found Alec’s neck again, and then his collarbone. In the daze of his own peak, Alec thought he saw a flash of red in Sebastien’s eyes again, but he was out of sight too quickly for him to believe what he’d seen. Instead, he found Sebastien kissing his hammering pulse while he finished. Finally going still, Sebastien slumped atop him, breathing hard, his white-blond hair spilling everywhere and tickling Alec’s stubble. He was too tired to care though.

When he woke, hours later, he realised groggily that it must be the middle of the night. Sebastien was curled up beside him, obviously having found the tiny bathroom to clean up, and he was now spread out beside him on his small, lumpy mattress as if this were a palace and he a prince, not some tiny, shitty apartment in the rough bit of town.

Something about the way Sebastien slept still freaked Alec the fuck out. He didn’t seem to be breathing, and when he had laid his palm on Sebastien’s chest on their first night together, the man had gasped and jolted awake like the living dead, sucking in air like he’d been underwater for hours. This time, he refrained from touching him, and instead stared at his inhuman beauty. There wasn’t a mark or scar or freckle on him, and his darkly tanned body spread out over the white sheets like a bronze sculpture arranged in a gallery for the adoration of thousands. And yet he chose Alec to be his only supplicant. Something lurched in his chest and he smiled bashfully, blushing, although there was no one to witness it.

Awake, Sebastien looked maybe thirty, thirty five years old, but asleep, he looked far younger; closer to eighteen or nineteen perhaps, with an innocence around his white-lashed eyes and the natural downward curl of his beautiful lips.

Unable to resist touching him completely, Alec kissed him and rolled over, drawing the duvet up around his ears and sinking back into a deep, dreamless sleep. His whole body felt heavy and satiated in a way he’d never experienced before with anyone. Something clenched in his heart; this felt right somehow.

But nothing is fated to last forever, is it?

Alec stirred groggily, unwillingly, the next morning, becoming aware of a rapid-fire knocking on the apartment door. Grunting, he kicked back the covers and fished for a pair of boxers and a shirt from the floor beside the bed. Sebastien slept on, apparently not having moved at all since the previous evening. Did he have sleep apnoea or something? It was something he’d have to bring up after he’d sorted whatever this was. It wasn’t natural for a man to sleep like that.

Like the dead.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he grumbled, stumbling across the apartment and peering though the peephole in the door. Twitching back in surprise, he opened it. “Theo?”

His little brother’s bright, sunny grin beamed back at him. “Hey bro,” he chuckled jovially, stepping in as if he owned the place and shooting him a cheeky look back over his shoulder. “Brunch?”

“Brunch?” Alec frowned. “Since when do you do ‘brunch’? And since when is it brunchtime anyway?” He glanced at the clock in the kitchen and his eyebrows rose. It was well past eleven o’clock.

“Late night, I see,” Theo snickered, eyeing Sebastien’s shirt which was still on the floor outside the bedroom door, currently ajar from Alec’s hasty exit.

“Shut up.”

Theo’s grin doubled and his blue eyes glittered. Like Alec, he had the unusual combination of dark hair and blue eyes, and like Alec he could be described as ‘roguish’ at times. Now though, it bordered on downright Puckish. Looking not his actual twenty-one years but somewhere closer to sixteen, Theo shook his head.

“Brother mine, when will you —” he snorted but then stopped and his expression fell, shattering from playful to horrified in a heartbeat before he rapidly attempted to cover it by turning towards the bedroom. “Is he still here?” he whispered.

“Yeah, so keep the jokes to a minimum, would you?” Alec snarled. “What did you want anyway?”

But Theo had changed completely. Gone was the ebullient Labrador puppy and instead a tense, alert, wary young man stood before him.

“What the fuck’s wrong?” Alec hissed, heartbeat ticking faster like an over-wound clock.

And Theo spun and then froze as the door to the bedroom opened and Sebastien appeared on the threshold.

Theo’s lip curled into an ugly snarl and Sebastien regraded him steadily, apparently unfazed by the unexpected hostility.

“The younger Twayblade, I assume,” he said with such ice in his usually warm tone that it shook Alec into stunned silence. “Well, this is unexpected.”

“You’re shitting me,” Theo whispered, horror thickening his tone.

Alec blinked and looked from Sebastien to his little brother and back again. Never in all his years of dating men had he felt so uneasy around a family member. “What’s going on…?” he finally croaked.

“That’s what — who — you’re sleeping with?” Theo practically spat out.

Cold, defensive vitriol bubbled up inside him and he might actually have lunged for his brother had Sebastien not crossed the room in three rapid strides and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “I take my leave,” he said quickly.

“Not so fast, fang-face,” Theo sneered and Sebastien froze. “Get away from my brother.”

“Or what?” Sebastien said in the quietest and steadiest of voices.

“What the fuck is going on!” Alec blurted into the tense silence that followed Sebastien’s taunt.

The other two blinked, and Sebastien sighed. He met Alec’s eye as he asked, “You really didn’t know at all, did you?”

“Know what?” Alec snapped, rage rolling through him. “Do you two know each other or something? What am I missing here?”

“I think this is a family matter that you need to work out between you,” Sebastien said, voice still tinged with frost. “Alec, you know where to reach me if you decide to continue what we’ve shared this past month.” And with that, he turned and walked from the apartment.

“Wait, stop!” Alec yelled after him, but he was gone down the stairwell and Theo was at his side, tugging him back into the apartment. “Fucking explain yourself!” he snapped, rounding on his brother.

“You’d… better sit down.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

Theo stared him down, meeting blazing sapphire stare with blazing sapphire stare. “Sit. Down.”

The tone of his voice shocked Alec into doing exactly that, and he sank numbly down onto the saggy old couch in the living room without a word.

What followed next was like something from a movie.

“The Twayblades are an ancient family of monster hunters,” Theo said gently. “Father’s not in the military. Well, he is, but it’s not a normal unit or anything. That’s just a cover.”

“And mother?” he asked mechanically, the information-dump that Theo had just heaped upon him not sinking in, but floating like scum on the surface of his churning mind.

“She’s one too. And Ellie.”

“Ellie hunts… monsters?” he asked. “Like… what… the Boogeyman? Bigfoot?” Incredulity made his tone flippant, but something in the calm sincerity of his brother’s eyes told him it was true, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Dracula…?” Theo added darkly.

“Dracula.” And then the penny dropped. “Wait. ‘Fang-face’. You’re saying you think my boyfriend is a vampire?”

Theo levelled him with a look from where he was leaning against the windowsill, arms folded over his chest in a manner eerily reminiscent of his big brother.

Now as Alec regarded him, he saw the harsh young man that this little kid had become. The puppy fat had melted into a steel jaw and a hard gaze, and his body seemed coiled for action at any moment. He had the body of a soldier, Alec realised with plunging horror. He knew Theo worked out — he was apparently a personal trainer and nutritional coach for celebrities in London, but even that seemed to have been a lie after what he’d just learned. Apparently the Twayblades actually hunted monsters — he and their parents and their older sister Ellie. Alec and Angie had been left out because they were apparently not ‘hunter material’ whatever that meant. Maybe it meant he was a monster fucker instead. He almost laughed.

“Theo, come on… I can’t believe any of this,” Alec said, leaning back into the sofa and pressing the heels of his palms to his aching eyeballs. All he’d wanted to do this morning was to wake up and maybe have Sebastien fuck him into the mattress a few times before breakfast until he was wrung out and softly buzzing like they had every weekend for the last month.

Now he was having some bizarre fairytale forced at him and he was supposed to believe it like it was some kind of sick joke. But he did believe it, and that was what scared him most of all. It wasn’t a joke. Theo showed him videos his father and he had captured on some of their ‘hunts’, exterminating a poltergeist here and eradicating a revenant there, and in the end Theo phoned their father on speaker, opening without preamble, “Dad, Alec’s dating a vampire.”

“Do you have proof?” was their father’s instant, chilling response. No ‘I'm sorry, what did you say, son?’ or ‘What’s all this nonsense?’. No. He went straight to the heart of it. With a stake.

“Just walked past the sucker leaving the flat.”

“Ancient?”

“No, thank goodness. Maybe just a century at most?”

“Can you eliminate him without alerting Alec?” their father asked, at which point Alec’s heart cracked.

He leapt to his feet and blurted, “Fucking what?”

After a heartbeat of silence, their father sighed. “Unfortunate. I had hoped to keep you and Angela out of this.”

“You’re telling me it’s all real?”  he asked, goggling at Theo who held the phone out on speaker between them like it was a live grenade. “You’re all insane!”

“Tell me something, son,” his father said flatly. “Have his eyes ever flared red during a moment of passion? Does he seem to fixate on your neck? Do you find yourself willing to do as he wishes without question?”

Theo interjected quickly, “He’s not compelled. His eyes are clear.”

“Well, that’s something at least,” their father scoffed. “Theo, you know what you have to do. Kill it.”

“‘It’?” Alec shot, eyes bulging, and Theo did have the grace to cringe. “Kill it? You’re going to kill him? He’s a lecturer at the university, Theo. You can’t just fucking kill him?!”

“He might be under the guild rules…” Theo said. “He might be a blood bank user, not a live-feeder… I’ll look into it first.”

Alec’s knees turned to water but he kept himself upright through sheer force of will.

“Fine. But don’t hesitate. And don’t make concessions just because Alec might be compromised.”

Theo nodded and hung up without farewell. “Look, Alec,” he grimaced. “I’m… I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t come here to —”

“— to kill my boyfriend?” he growled, taking a step towards his little brother. To his credit, Theo did actually take half a step back in the face of Alec’s confused, hurt, betrayed ire, holding his hand palm-up.

“No. I came here to see if you wanted to grab lunch, but —”

“—Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out!” he roared, jabbing his index finger at the door and pulling out his phone.

Theo surprised him by nodding and leaving, shutting the door behind him with a click and leaving Alec standing in the centre of the living room, chest heaving, phone in hand, ears ringing.

As his brother’s footsteps disappeared down the stairwell, he unlocked his phone and dialled Sebastien’s number.

Three rings in, Sebastien answered.

“It it true?” Alec asked without preamble.

After a long inhale, Sebastien answered. “…Yes.”

__

Sorry for the cliffie!! More soon, but it’ll hit Patreon first, then Tumblr. Don’t let me forget, either!

Part Four

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I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me  know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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[pearl-blue-musings]

Crystal Clear

Hi hi

I’ve been struggling to write for the last couple of months, so have a drabble I’ve had notes on for awhile now

Pairing: Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic) x fem!reader

Warnings: brief manga spoilers, angst, fluff, mentions of character death (again manga spoilers), not a warning but reader has black hair, survivors guilt, written in one go so :/

~~~~~~~~~~

It was too early in the morning for you to be up but here you are. You were sleeping peacefully until your loud blond boyfriend woke you up at 4:30 in the morning. 

“Babe? You do see what time it is right?”

“I know,” he whispers, “but I couldn’t sleep after my radio show and I wanted to go on a drive. Can we?”

You reach for a nearby lamp and turn it on to dimly illuminate the room. You see Yamada next to you, half dressed and bright green eyes lacking their usual sheen which makes you worry. You don’t miss the bags under his eyes that have slowly become more and more common with him over the last year. He tries his best to keep smiling at you but you’re aware of the nightmares he has and you’ve surmised that he’s had another one. His typical cheeky grin has been replaced with a melancholy smile that doesn’t quite reach the crease of his eyes and it hurts you more than you’d like to admit. 

You reach out your hand to his and hold his cold and calloused hand in yours giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll get dressed, ‘Zashi. Where are we headed?”

“Just wanted to watch the sunrise this morning at our favorite spot...”

You silently nod and remove yourself from the bed and head toward the bathroom. You and Hizashi were lucky he got some time off for a few days and that it was Principal Nezu approved. The hideaway you chose was a couple hours away from the school and conveniently from his favorite beach location. Once he brought that up you knew that he was doing his best to cope and comprehend the rampant emotions fluttering around in his brain.

Once you’re both ready, you pack up your things and head out to the rental car. You have one more day until the two of you need to return to the school so you can understand why he’s clearly feeling a particular way. Since you know it’s a long drive you leave your hair in your bonnet to prevent any random kinks or bends. Yamada always loves how much you care for your hair, despite whatever adventure you’re doing; it’s one of the little things he adores because he can see you completely dressed while your hair is still covered up. The blond is feeling more of the opposite this morning as he leaves his own mane flowing down his back. 

You catch his gaze on you and you can’t help but let out a low chuckle. “What?”

He matches your laugh and slides into the drivers side. “Nothing, sweet listener. I just like seein’ ya in the morning like this.”

Your eyebrows perk up at his soft and kind words. You lean over the console in the car and place a chaste kiss upon his cheek. Returning to your side of car you lean back to get comfortable before asking, “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive? You did your show away from home and I know you’re tired.”

“Songbird, I wanna do this okay? I’m fine, now rest your beautiful eyes okay?”

You can’t help but agree with him as you close your eyes, the hum of the engine roaring to life but also lulling you to sleep. Along the ride, you had drifted in and out of sleep, sometimes hearing him hum to himself with the radio, or switching to a playlist on his phone that helped him focus and stay awake. Normally, trips like this with the two of you are more chatty and full of joy. But you know he needs his time to himself. No one person should have had to endure what he’s been through and you’ve told yourself that you would be there with him through all of it. 

Hizashi enjoyed driving more than people realized. And with his destination in mind, he was relishing in this journey. The sky still dark above him, the moon and stars blending in with the early morning lights of the city. The bright lights fade as they get closer to their location, already noticing the brightening of the deep purple sky switching to it’s lighter shade as the stars begin to dwindle away. There’s something to be said about the open cloudless sky. He normally doesn’t let these things get to him, being strong for his long time best friend and girlfriend. But there’s a metaphor he’s looking at right now and he can’t help but have a tear fall down to his parted lips. The taste of salt hitting him earlier than he wanted is just the icing on the cake that is this beach drive. 

When you awake you see that you’re parked at the beach’s lot and turn to your boyfriend. You’re about to speak when you catch a look in his eye you hadn’t seen in a long time. The way his green irises stare out at the vast ocean in front of him, the part in his lip, and the furrow of his brow, you can sense he’s holding something back. It’s almost as if all of the exhaustion, hurt, pain, and silence that has been eating him up is finally coming to the forefront. You retract your hand and opt to fix your hair as best you could before getting out and grabbing the blankets for you two to sit on. “Baby,” you sweetly coo at him, “are you ready?”

You see him quickly nod and get out of the car, closing the door behind him. His hands immediately go to this arms as the beach air is colder than he anticipated. You roll your eyes and grab his sweater. “You’re lucky I brought a sweater for you, ‘Zashi.”

He scoffs in fake annoyance and takes the sweater. “Well what if you ruined my plan of wanting to just cuddle you because I’m cold?”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

The two of you continue to laugh as you begin your trek down toward the sand. Your hands are intertwined as you walk, the cold sand seeping in between your toes as you step along. You walk along the shore for a few minutes before finding the perfect spot and place the blanket down on the sand. You sit together facing the ocean, your head on his shoulder as your hands find each other again. He begins to draw haphazard patterns on the back of your hand, sighing contentedly before peering at the sun peeping across the horizon. The colors are absolutely breathtaking, the bright and harsh orange and yellows mixing with the purples of the early morning sky and blues of the water. The ocean breeze sweeps through their hair adding an extra calmness to the serene scene. The sunrise itself is one of the most beautiful things you’ve seen in this world and you’re honored to be sharing this moment with him. You feel him deeply exhale and tighten his grip on your palm; he’s finally ready to talk.

“I miss her.”

You merely nod against him, slightly surprised at how soft his voice is right now.

“We were all supposed to be heroes together. Her, me, Shouta...Oboro...”

You hold onto his arm harder as the volume in his voice increases.

“Shouta’s always getting hurt and I can’t do anything. Oboro, he should be here! But that would mean Sho wouldn’t be here and I’m not sure which one is worse and I..

“I just have a radio show! No physical scars to show, just my memories.” The sun rises higher into the sky, making his eyes shine brighter and have more life. “Memories of Nemuri and Oboro. You know Oboro would’ve loved you right? I know Nemuri did. Sho does too, he just won’t admit it.” The colors of midnight have disappeared completely as the sun has taken over the cloudless sky. 

“They should all be here with me! All of us should be here,” his voice getting louder as he unleashes his year long pent up frustration. “Why did I have to lose two of my best friends and have another come so close to death by losing an eye and a leg and I’m fine?!” He stands up then walking closer toward the water to avoid hurting your ears. “Society still doesn’t trust us! Just, why?

“Why me!?”

All you could do was sit and let him get his feelings out. You felt everything that has been boiling inside of him and now the teapot has finally exploded. He’s panting heavily, not from his yelling but from the release of his emotions. He was finally exposing himself to the world in the place where his friends would visit in his youth, a full year after the nation, UA, and hero society had turned upside down. Removing your ear plugs you put in earlier, you stroll up to him and hug him from behind tightly. Hizashi turns you around so that you’re hugging his front as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. Your hands rub his back up and down in a soothing motion. This moment isn’t for you, it’s for him. Your loud, boisterous, emotional, and fun boyfriend needed this.

“Damn it,” he huffs out and lifts his head. “I ruined this sunrise for ya.”

You shake your head and gaze into his eyes, giving him a soft smile. It’s right then, right in this moment that it feels like the stars align. The sun in your irises makes your eyes shimmer, shine, and reflect in a way that makes his stomach drop. As he looks into your eyes, he sees himself and everything that he is. You’ve taken him for everything that he is and you’re still here. 

Even when tensions were at their worst, you gave him the space to cope and heal, just like you’re doing now. The way your eyes twinkle in the sun has him falling in love with you all over again. He carefully cups your face with his hands, almost like that’s where they’re meant to be. “Darling, you’re too good for me, ya know that?” He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling together as he inhales your scent and sighs happily. “I yell at home, at work, on my show-”

“Don’t forget in bed,” you jest.

You catch his pout as he playfully pinches your cheeks, “Nah sweetcheeks that’s all you!” You share a hearty giggle as the Yamada finds himself calming down. His hands trail down your body to meet yours, interlocking your fingers together as your foreheads are still pressed together. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to come to the beach today, but he’s happy to be here with you. It’s almost like the universe was telling him that it’s okay for him to feel what he’s feeling, that he can move on with his life. Almost like his friends were finally gracing him with peace by telling him it’s time for him to be happy. Diving into this had him fearful, but with the way you look at him and love him, everything has become crystal clear for the radio hero.

“I love you so much,” he seals his words with a kiss, knowing full well he’ll be wanting to do this for the rest of his life.

“I love you too, Hizashi.”

~~~~~~~~~~

@cupcake-rogue @stratuspoof @spizawazashi

[ningningsplushie]

Bookstore Rivals

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Word count: 2171

Genre: Used bookstore, cold to clueless to cocky Joon, rivals but in a cutesy way, strangers to lovers, meet cute, reader likes to tease Joon

Summary: Walking into your favourite bookstore, you don’t anticipate to come across the new, handsome cashier. To say the least, the two of you don’t kick it off right away

Warning: minor descriptions of blood, nothing intense.

Y/N’s Wednesday schedule was planned out to a tee. Wake up, attend class, work for four hours, and visit Mr. Kim’s bookstore. As organized and strict as her Wednesdays were, the rest of the week was fairly inconsistent, which was precisely why she enjoyed the middle of the week most as it allowed her to take control for once, not to mention that going to the bookstore was like attending weekly Mass, an occurrence that excited her without fail. 

Before the doors of the bus could fully open, with the energy of a thousand men, Y/N leaps through, almost getting her bag caught on the handles during the process. Y/N paused on the sidewalk, tilting her head up towards the high buildings of apartments and stores in the downtown area of Seoul, she closes her eyes and takes a deep to inhale, relishing the smell of the air right after it had rained. The walk from the bus stop to Mr. Kim’s store was only ten minutes but during the ten-minute expedition, she was skipping, flinging her arms back and forth. 

In about no time, she arrives, already pushing open the glass door and grinning upon hearing the chime of bells signaling her entrance. 

“Per Aspera ad Libros!” Y/N yells out, spreading both of her arms wide. She wasn’t sure why but she greeted the shop like this every time and it just felt right. Through hardships to the books. “Mr. Kiiiiiiim! It’s me, Y/N!” she calls out, peering through the endless rows of brown, nearly rotten shelves.

  “Y/N you come here every week like clockwork yet I never tire of your presence,” he greets, exiting from the back room, “how have you been, dear?” 

“Oh, I’ve been great, sir. Classes are interesting, I meet new people at work, and my brain is still sucking up thousands of words,” she replies, clasping both of her hands atop her head. 

The Fifty-something-year-old man chuckles, the deep-set lines of his mouth accentuating when he reveals his grin, his crow's feet growing stronger as his eyes close in joy. “Good, good, I’m glad you’re enjoying life.”

“I try my best to, but, you know, it can get hard at times.”

“That’s true enough. Just keep your head high and the things you love near.”

“That’s what I’m planning on. Oh, I nearly forgot! The store didn’t have any strawberry smoothies so I got you a mango one. I know those are your second favourite,” she acknowledges, shrugging off her backpack, bringing out two small bottles of smoothies, one for Mr. Kim and one for herself. 

“Thank you, dear. Let me just put a few more books away and we’ll get to talking.” 

Not even a minute later, he returns, and the two stand by the large window next to the entrance, talking as they usually do about books, life, and Y/N’s school. 

“I’m really glad I switched majors. Business was such a bore and-” Y/N stops in her tracks, eyes glued to the cash register when she spots a tall man sitting while reading a book with brown hair that was pushed back, revealing his forehead. She couldn’t quite tell if he was good-looking or not as his face was impassive, too engrossed in his book. From what she saw, he was easy on the eyes. Y/N frequented this bookstore on many occasions and she had never seen this guy before and she was worried that he was a suspicious character, attempting to steal. “Uhhhhh Mr. Kim,” Y/N says at a low frequency, making sure the stranger doesn’t hear, “I think that guy at the cash register is trying to steal.” 

Mr. Kim’s eyes go wide and whips his head toward the counter. He's about to yell out but then rests his eyes on the sitting figure and begins to laugh. “You had me worried for a second.” he croaks out, chest heaving from laughing too much. “He isn’t stealing or anything like that. Y/N, meet my nephew Kim Namjoon. He’s just moved here from Ilsan and started working with me while he attends university.” 

Now it was Y/N turn to laugh, hand slapping her forehead as she leans forward, shoulders vibrating. “Oh wow, I’m really stupid.” She composes herself and straightens her back, offering a bow to the tall man. “Hi, I’m really sorry about that. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

She expected the guy to close his book and smile, introduce himself, or even offer a small nod, but definitely not, “It’s Per Aspera ad Astra, not per Aspera ad Libros.” 

Mouth hanging open in shock, she finally takes a nice look at Mr. Kim’s nephew. As handsome as this guy was, he certainly wasn’t nice. He had a heart-shaped face of some sort, his cheeks being his widest features before tapering down to his chin. His eyes, best described as puffy monolids, were wide-set and made him look intelligent. If he’s trying to correct my Latin then he certainly is, she thought. Y/N tries to detect any sign of him joking but is only met with the limp rest of his plump lips. 

“Namjoon!” Mr. Kim gasps in shock. “We don’t treat customers like that.”

Y/N recovers from...whatever that was and simply questions, “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yeah, I should know.”

Nodding, Y/N takes a look at the book he was reading and ignores his answer, replying with, “How disappointing. Have fun with Fitzgerald.” Y/N then turns to Mr. Kim and says, “Alright, I won’t be here too long, I’ll just see if you have anything of interest.”

Walking towards her favourite section, she hears, “What is wrong with you, Namjoon? You choose now, of all times, to be a smartass?” This was followed by a sharp thump, which Y/N assumed was from Mr. Kim’s hand meeting with Namjoon’s head. 

Y/N browses a few sections for ten minutes before noticing Namjoon standing on a ladder from the other side of the shelf. Hearing him grunt, obviously struggling with something, she peers up from between the shelf and cracks of old books and sees him trying to push a book between a tight crevice. Y/N stifles a giggle at how different this guy looks, from the cold, impassive face at the counter to the one with brows furrowed and cheeks puffed up. He was...kinda cute. She keeps watching him from the other side of the shelf and he finally succeeds in nudging the book on the shelf. That, however, came at a price. When he forcefully pushed the novel between two other ones, it came in contact with one on Y/N’s side, sending it tumbling down, hitting Y/N on the forehead. 

“OW!” Y/N’s eyes close in pain and her jaw clenches at the sharp and immediate pain. Namjoon, meanwhile, jumps from the top of the ladder and rushes to her side. 

“Oh god, I’m so so sorry. Please, I really didn’t mean to hit your head I was just-”

Wanting to tease him, she interrupts him, whining out, “I didn’t know you hated me this much. First you criticize my Latin now you hit me with…” she bends down to pick up the fallen book and does everything in her power to not laugh at the coincidence. “Fitzgerald! You hit me with Fitzgerald! Unbelievable. I’ve been here for thirty minutes and you already have a personal vendetta against me. And here I was thinking that the two of us could be great friends.”

Namjoon tilts his head back and groans. “Great, I’ll never live up to this. I really didn’t intend to hit your head. Are you alright though?”

Y/N playfully nudges his shoulder. “Relax, I’m fine. I’m still in one piece, aren’t I?”

She wasn’t. Blood dripped down from her forehead onto her nose. “What-” Y/N crosses her eyes to inspect the drop and says, “Oh wow, I guess I’m not. You got a tissue?”

This only urged Namjoon to panic even more. “I'M SO SORRY!”

“Hey, it’s fine.”

“It hardly isn’t,” he yelps back, eyes shooting up. “My uncle’s gonna kill me.”

Faking dejection, she hangs her head down and looks up at him through her lashes. “So you’re more worried about your uncle and not me?”

“What?!” Realizing his mistake, he winces, given himself a facepalm. “Just ignore me, please. Let’s get you fixed up before he comes back,” he murmurs, gently pushing Y/N to sit on the counter. 

Y/N dangles her legs off the counter, swinging them around like a restless child as Namjoon goes to the backroom, trying to find the first-aid kit as fast as he can. A few seconds later he returns to Y/N, fumbling with the latch of the kit with his large hands before Y/N snatches the white box from him and opens it. 

“Don’t be so nervous, Doc, it isn’t life and death. Or…” she tracks off, suddenly grabbing her chest with one hand and holding Namjoon’s shoulder with the other. “Namjoon… I don’t feel so good. What did you do to me?”

“Stop that! Don’t worry me even more.” He sputtered, glaring at Y/N.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Just do your thing.” 

Namjoon starts with cleaning up her wound with alcohol, carefully applying pressure so as not to hurt her even further. Y/N winces at the burn on her forehead, causing Namjoon to flinch. “Sorry if I hurt you,” he apologizes, offering her a sheepish grin, revealing the dimples she hadn’t seen up until now. Wow...he’s really handsome. 

All the confidence that Y/N flies out the window, becoming increasingly flustered at his adorable features. “It’s alright,” she mumbled, drawing her eyes to the ground. 

Namjoon resumes wiping her wound clean and Y/N decides to tease him even further. “Did my comment about Fitzgerald sting you that bad that you had to throw one of his books at me? Or was my Latin that bad?”

Namjoon groans, clearly embarrassed at his own actions. “Can we pleaaassseeee not bring this up again? I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?” 

“Hmmmmm,” she considers for a while. “No. My Latin wasn’t wrong, by the way. It was 100 percent correct.”

“But the phrase is-”

“I know what the phrase is. I changed it because I’m talking to the books, not the stars. Through hardships to the books. No matter what I go through, I always find myself with a book or at your uncle’s store. It’s always been that way. You’re not the only smart one here, wiseass,” she finishes, trying to contain her grin. 

Namjoon clamps his mouth shut, opens it, and closes it again, all before spitting out, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“It’s alright, Joonie.” He pauses his actions upon hearing this. “Hmmm, Joonie. That’s a cute nickname. I’ll call you that from now on.”

“Oh...alright. That’s-that’s cool.” He’s done with cleaning her forehead, now rummaging through the kit for a band-aid. “Wait. What do you have against Fitzgerald?” He questions, finally finding one of the appropriate size for the cut. 

Here’s the kicker. “Absolutely nothing. I quite enjoyed Tender is the Night and The Great Gatsby. I just wanted to get a rile out of you. That’s what you get for trying to correct my Latin.” She taunts, sticking her tongue out at him. 

He applies the band-aid and smirks. Now it was Namjoon’s turn to tease her.  “And look where it got you.”

“Hey! You said...wait,” she sidetracks, hopping off the counter. “Go out for coffee with me.” 

“What? Where’s this coming from?” Namjoon asks, bewildered. 

“You said, and I quote, ‘what more do you want from me?’ I’d like to go get coffee together.”

“You really are smooth, huh?” he muses, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I try my best. So what do you say...Joonie?”

“I’m not sure. You could be a psycho murderer for all I know.”

Y/N drops her mouth open and scoffs. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who almost killed me. Listen, You’re new in the city, I can show you around and guess what? I’ll let you pay for the drinks. As an apology for my gorgeous new bump. How’s that sound?”

 Namjoon stares at her for a few beats, basking in her features. “You’re really cute when you’re defending your case.”

“Uhhhhh, I know I am, now please, stop beating around the bush. Would you, or would you not like to buy me coffee and allow me to show you the hottest spots in Seoul?

He considers his answer and asks, “Promise not to kill me?”

“I can’t protect you from my good looks, Joonie,” Y/N quips, twirling a strand of her hair with her finger, causing Namjoon to let out a cackle.

“Alright, I’m down. Just make it worth my while, Y/N.”

“Oh, I promise.”

[mnictasbcl]

Still immortal, Connor?

Next story for @connor-sent-by-cyberlife‘s #dbhghostsinthemachine challenge! Prompt OCT 5: Immortal.

Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson

Tags: Temporary character death, Denial, Existential crisis, self-destruction, hurt/comfort, violence, swearing, guilt, panic

Warnings: Temporary character death (i.e. Connor)

Summary: Two months after the Revolution, after Connor finally deviated… he dies.

The next morning he wakes up in a new body.

 Read it on AO3! Or, read below....

Chasing the suspect, a whir of thoughts and preconstructions, taking into account the unpredictability of a human who’d just committed murder in broad daylight—facts and figures, numbers blurred, risks and percentages—all overlayed by the mission to capture the suspect. Or else risking even more lives.

One risk taken, he noticed too late. Hank had always demanded he stay on the safe or balanced path, but here he was, sliding down a rooftop. Tried to time his jump, but his limbs faltered, thirium pump catching in his throat as he saw the great drop—

 To a sickening crunch onto the cement.

     He didn’t think androids dreamed. But when he came to… it wasn’t real. He’d died, his memory banks proved so with the last recorded moments of his processor’s consciousness. So why could he see? See above him the white and blinding light, feel the cold metal of an examination table…

It had to be a dream.

But someone came over to him, an android, a medic at Jericho, and they smiled to see him. He held his hand out towards them and they pushed it back down. It felt so tangible, so real…

It had to be a nightmare.

Something clicked in his head, auditory processors roaring to life. Life.

This wasn’t life.

This wasn’t real.

“…how are you feeling?”

He looked at the medic, before pushing himself up on the table.

“I’m supposed to be dead.”

They laughed awkwardly. “Ah, yeah, you were… luckily…”

“Then where am I? Do androids really have a heaven- or hell? What is this?”

“It’s alright, this is probably a shock for you. But if you’ll just…”

Connor looked away from them, and then something glinting met his gaze. The reflective surface of a tray by his bedside. He snatched it, sending the glass of thirium that had sat atop it flying.

He stared into his reflection and screamed.

  …………………………………………………………………………

  When Hank arrived at Jericho, Connor was still sedated.

“We couldn’t keep him awake, he was screaming himself hoarse, starting to lash out, tearing at his skin,” the android described to him—Paul, his nametag read, “Markus suggested we phoned you.”

Hank nodded, stepping to the side as Paul opened the curtain. “He was right. I would’ve been there when Con was waking up, but… I’d just seen him die, you know?”

“That’s understandable. And I believe his reaction… we think it might be associated with some sort of loss, grieving over his body.”

“Yeah. Or maybe it’s ‘cause he could do this before.”

“Pardon?”

“He’s died before. Cyberlife just shipped his brain out in a new body every time. I thought once the whole deviating thing happened, he might stop dying… but he’s too damn reckless.”

Typing out something on the keyboard beside Connor’s cot, Paul nodded. “I see. Maybe it’s associated with a past trauma.” With a click of a key, he turned back to Hank. “Either way, I’ve started the process of letting him wake back up. But if he starts panicking again, I’ll be nearby.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The curtain swished shut. Hank watched as Connor’s LED spun hazy colours, the start of his wake-up sequence. God, he didn’t think he’d see that again. See him again. He’d died. Dead, crushed on the concrete, blue blood splattered on the—

He slapped himself. Thinking like that wouldn’t help Connor. Who was struggling too, evidently.

Yeah, it was freaky, downright horrifying to see him placed into another body again. But it was still Connor. Still the same loveable android who spoiled Sumo something silly.

The same android who he’d have to drill some self-preservation skills into, apparently.

 He was pulled out of his thoughts by a groan. It was Connor, exactly the same voice—yeah, he guessed he was glad they’d managed to salvage some Connor models from Cyberlife after it’d been signed over to the androids at Jericho. Would’ve been even freakier if he’d been someone else.

But as soon as he came too, his LED snapped out of its brief lapse into calm blue, flaring up red. His eyes landed on Hank and he jumped back on the cot, tumbling off the side and onto the floor.

“Hey, hey, Connor—”

“Get away from me!”

Hank stopped, standing still where he was. “Alright, alright, I’m not coming any closer. But that means you’ve got to stay where you are too.”

Connor complied, half-laying on the floor, hands jittering at his sides.

“And it also means you need to calm down. Unhelpful advice, I know, but you’ve got to do it for your sake. Deep breaths, yeah? I know you androids don’t fucking need them but it’s a self-soothing sort of thing…” He exaggerated his breaths, slowly in and out, starting Connor in the eye until he looked like he was attempting to copy.

“Now, the helpful guy before—Paul, I think—he said you might be a bit confused. Scared. Cause they had to put you in a new body and…”

Progress was undone. Connor got up, stumbled backwards into a table, sending metal tools scattering across the floor.

“I knew it. I knew they’d done it again—Cyberlife—”

“Hey, not Cyberlife. Jericho.”

“No. Because androids don’t live forever, Hank, they die. Because androids are alive now. But I cheated death! I’m… not alive.”

“Bullshit. You think, what, they’re just gonna let androids die with all the technology they’ve got these days? If Markus got injured, you think they’d just go, oh well, that’s that, he’s dead? No fucking way. They’d find a solution, and sure as hell would take the opportunity if they had handy copies laying around of him—”

“Copies, Hank. I’m just a copy! I’m not…” he brought his arms around himself, making motions over his chest. “I’m not… each time a Connor model is uploaded and replaced; it loses fragments of its memory.”

“So, what, you forgot that shitty soap we watched the other day?”

“You don’t understand! I’m not a deviant anymore!”

Hank froze. “You… no, look at you right now! Emotion, right there, you’re showing it alright. Deviants don’t do that.”

“The… the wall is gone, but she’s still there.”

“Huh?”

“Amanda. She’s still in my head, I haven’t destroyed her yet. She’s going to take control and—”

“Oh, the Zen Garden? Con, that’s not in your body. It was up here,” he tapped his head, “and you kicked her out. Now it’s filled with… I don’t know, dog hair, ‘cause that shit gets everywhere.”

Connor stifled a wet chuckle, bringing a hand to trace over his face. Tears were leaking down his cheeks. “Oh. But I… this…”

Hank looked at him, hand reaching out in an invitation to move forwards. When Connor let him, he stepped tentatively closer, before enveloping him in a warm embrace. “I know, son, it’s different. It’s still you, but it’s different. I’d be freaked out if I was in a different body too. But this isn’t like before, when you did stupid shit and turned up the next day as if nothing happened. You were trying to save lives, you fucked up. But I’ll help you make sure that never happens again.”

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Better not. Scared the living hell out of me. Now… how about we go thank that Paul guy, then get you back home? Sumo hasn’t seen you in a day and I think he might send out a canine search party if I don’t bring you to him.”

This time Connor fully laughed; LED circling yellow. “Okay, Hank.” Collected his belongings, draping his jacket over his shoulder. Just as the Lieutenant neared the curtain to draw it open, he said softly, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem, kid.”

[chicoriii]

Season 4, Episode 2 - Mensonge (Lies)

Welcome again. I had been logged out from Tumblr for the whole weekend, because I was afraid of untagged spoilers, as I've seen one screenshot here accidentally, fortunately it wasn't spoilerish. And I've watched the Lies today. Again without reading other's people opinion about the episode, so I probably write things that have been said before.

I enjoyed it more than Truth. But not because it's better written, I think the overall quality of both is similar. Lies is about characters I care about more, so it's natural that the episode is automatically more interesting to me. I dislike both Luka and Jagged (to be fair the only member of the Couffaine family I like is Juleka) and that would be hard to make me caring about them, the best thing I could say about any of those characters is that I tolerate them on screen. Sometimes. Don't get me wrong, Truth was the best episode for Luka and Jagged, but they are still dull and/or annoying to me. Creators need to develop son-father relationship more to make me interested in it, that arc was too shallow in Truth.

But the post is about Adrigami episode, not Lukanette one.

I'm surprised that we got only one not very long scene with civilian Marinette. But not surprised that she's still pining over Adrien. Just like Chat is pining over Ladybug. As I'm keeping saying, it's not gonna change. But really, Marinette thinks that Adrien's life is perfect? She should know that tight schedule could be a big problem and has she forgotten what terrible father is Gabriel? Of course she doesn't know details we know, but she should be aware that he isn't as good parent like her own. So probably her enamored brain can't see bad sides of life of her loved one. She still can't think rational when it comes to him. Another reason why she should stop putting him on a pedestal. We need some friendly Adrienette so badly, we need to see Adrien telling her more bad things in his life. He isn't used to complain, but I think he needs to tell someone the truth about his family life. I hope Marinette will be that person.

I had been tired of clown Chat in Truth, but this episode lets us to see the situation from his point of view and now I understand more why he behaves like that. I think that he tries to hide from Ladybug how much he miss spending time with her that way. He is aware that's because of her new responsibility and he doesn't want to make her feel bad for it. Those scenes were so sweet. How much Chat wants an Akuma to appear just to see his lady. Not very noble, but I can't blame him. It only shows that Adrien is a normal human being. We all are selfish from time to time and it's healthy (you only have to find a good balance, being as selfish as Chloé and as selfless as Luka is not good).

Geez, why they can't put the right title of the piece? That's a different composition than that one used back in season 2, but the smartphone's screen says the same. And none of them is actually Raindrop Prelude. This is Raindrop Prelude. They are not even any of Chopin's preludes. I won't be surprised if both are not Fryderyk Chopin's compositions either (although I haven't heard all the solo piano pieces composed by him, so I can't be sure). I love classical music, so I'd love to know what pieces Adrien's playing! By the way, I recommend to listen to all of the 24 preludes, they are usually very short but interesting compositions. If you're too lazy to listen to all, check out number 20 at least, that's a pure, very atmospheric, beauty. One of my favourites melodies ever created.

I have always thought that Adrigami has more chemistry and it's generally more entertaining to watch than Lukanette (sorry stans, but you probably don't even follow me and read my posts,  there's a reason why I'm warning that my blog is not Luka and Lukanette friendly in its description). I feel that in this episode as well. Absolutely it's not a perfect relationship and it can't be, as Adrien is still into Ladybug. It's clear that Kagami is the one who really cares, Adrien is more distant. It seems that he's abashed of Kagami's physical intimacy, like he can't be open to her when he's still in love with Ladybug. That was really sad to hear Kagami's words that she's lying to be more often with him and he lies to not spend time with her. But relationship can't work if only one side is invested in it and they both need to learn it. They have some things in common, I like how they spending time together, so I'm sure they would work much better as friends. I'm sorry for Kagami and I wish her a better boyfriend who would love her truly. In some way it was a repeat of Truth, as we've seen Adrien leaving Kagami all of sudden, because of Akuma's attacks, but this time it's not as heavily portrayed like it's not working only because of superhero responsibility, that I didn't like in the previous episode. Another reason why I liked how Adrigami is shown more.

I really, really loved that we've learnt something new about Kagami and that's amazing it's something I have in common with her. I'm really surprised, since she didn't seem to have an artistic soul before. I also love seeing she likes draw animals, it's like me, I'm trying practise it. I enjoy drawing animals (and creatures like Kwamis or Pokémon) more than humans. But at the same time I feel angry at her mother. How could she dare to say that Kagami isn't good enough? Trying to kill a child's hobby is always unforgivable. She's much better than me (I'm a little jealous, but that's not the first time when a teen has much better skill than me), but my family and some others I know in real life often say that I'm talented and some people try to convince me to take pay commissions. That’s me who knows the best than I'm not skilled enough to take money for my art (they don't know really good artists in person and they don’t draw themselves, so no wonder they are not aware that my works aren't that good they think). Maybe some day, but not now, so I only enjoy drawing gifts for others. I'm also got interested in a real French artist she mentioned - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and I've seen some of his works. Very good for Miraculous for mentioning artist like him, I have never heard about him before, but maybe French students learn about him in school.

Seeing Adrien making Chat's pose was hilarious. I'm sure it's food for true selves trope supporters, but I also agree with Kagami that both model poses and Chat's poses are not ALL Adrien poses. He's more than that. That seemed like he has problems with being natural when he's on the pressure. He's learned how to make model poses, but I also think that when he is in full clown mode is also an act. But that's a mask which he has putted all by himself. In which he tries to be as much different than his public image as he can. Of course being dorky is also a true Adrien side, but not all the time. Being just a cute and polite boy is also true him. It seems that Adrien is not aware of it.

Marinette's lucky charm bracelet is an akumatised object once more. That and the fact she was asking him what he was doing on the boat tell us that Kagami probably think that Adrien is in love with Marinette (it could make also her wonder what stop them from being together if she knows that Marinette likes him as well).

I also liked her reaction to imminent breaking up more. It's more human reaction in my opinion. Some anger, but not too much. She says she doesn't want to see him for a while and that's completely understandable. Adrien has broken her heart, so she need some time to take care of herself without being interrupted by him. I'm going to say something that could be seen controversial, but in my opinion her attitude is way more healthy than Luka's. He still waits for a girl who clearly likes another boy much, but she's trying to really give up on him. And I would like to see a scene in which she says him that Marinette is not worth his waiting, he should be open for another love instead. Uff, I was really worried that they might kill Adrien and Kagami characters. But nothing really bad happened in the episode between them, everything was in-character. Of course salters will still find reasons to hate Kagami, they can say she's possessive towards him (that's true to some extent, but I think it's not really toxic, as she's still cares about his true feelings).

I need to say that Lies is the worst S4 Akuma design we've seen till now. Riposte and Oni-chan were much better. Also the battle was the worst part of this episode in my opinion. It wasn't completely bad, but it felt somewhat boring to me. I definitely enjoyed fights against Truth and Furious Fu more. The thing about that I liked the most what how they made use of Fang.

So the season 4 version of Chat Noir's transformation theme is exactly the same they used in the Shanghai special. It wasn't obvious, since Ladybug's one is a different one than that in the show. I noticed that that Ladybug's theme feels more like a new composition which only uses parts of an original version, while Chat's is clearly "just" an arrangement of the theme we know since season 1. Maybe that's because it's supposed to symbolise that she has even more responsibility now, as she's the Guardian as well. Chat's role hasn't changed that much as hers. I also think the new arrangement sounds cooler, it's more electric guitar-driven. I can't wait to get any of the episodes in which there's his transformation sequence with 5.1 audio to rip it.

All three released episodes are nice for Ladynoir a lot, their scenes are all sweet and wholesome. It almost feel like Ladynoir is close to happen. But I feel that's just calm before the storm. Marinette hasn't reached to her worst moment yet. I'm sure Ladybug will have more breakdowns like that in the season 3 finale.

Three episodes aired and I'm not amazed by any of them. But I don't want to be salty, I'm not worried about that. That's true for season 3 as well, I enjoy the second part of the season more as well. It's important to save the best episodes for later. And I have never expected that I would love all the S4 episodes, despite of pre-release statements, it's impossible. I'm not disappointed. Yet. Just give me some Adrienette food. Please.

[rainingpouringetc]

Hi! So, I’ve been wondering what the problem with Anna Lightwood is, because my brain saw that she was bending gender norms and hit love. But, now that I’m on tumblr, people are saying that she is problematic?

hi! i’ll try my best to explain, idk if i’ll hit everything but i hope this helps. and i’m sorry it took me a while, i wanted to do it justice so i tried to cover my bases and do my research.

basically, anna has said and done things that came across to many as ignorant, racist, and even misogynistic. 

first, let’s look at “every exquisite thing” from ghosts of the shadowhunter market. 

“If I were to tell my parents the truth about myself, if I were to reveal who I really am, they would despise me. I would be friendless, cast out, alone.”

Anna shook her head.

“They would not,” she said. “They would love you. You are their daughter.”

Ariadne drew her hand back from Anna’s. “I am adopted, Anna. My father is the Inquisitor. I do not have parents who are as understanding as yours must be.”

“But love is what matters,” said Anna.

this is from when ariadne was trying to explain why she would be getting engaged to charles. anna is very lucky: her family loves and accepts her and she’s able to live her life as she wishes, which we see her doing in chain of gold. ariadne, however, is not as lucky, and she has to take into consideration the conditions of her parents’ love. anna apparently struggles to understand this, ignoring ariadne’s valid concerns and telling her that it doesn’t matter because “love is what matters,” as if it makes everything perfect.

this is where anna’s ignorance begins to show through. ariadne is: (a) a woman in the late 1800s/early 1900s (i don’t remember for sure what year this story took place but i’d assume 1900s), (b) indian at a time when india is under british rule, (c) adopted, and (d) a lesbian shadowhunter. we know enough about how intolerant people have been about homosexuality, but shadowhunters are a whole other story. put all of this together and you have someone who is terrified of letting down her family and being shunned by society more than she already has been. in ariadne’s mind, she has no choice but to hide who she is.

 anna ignores this. entirely. she doesn’t take the time to talk to ariadne about her concerns, but rather skirts around them and insists that what she wants is what’s more important. this is highly indicative of her privilege and how she puts herself before others and others’ feelings.

now let’s look at chain of gold. there are two scenes in particular that i want to look at, but there are more.

“I quite like your mother. She reminds me of a queen out of a fairy tale, or a peri from Lalla Rookh. You’re half-Persian, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Cordelia said, a little warily.

“Then why is your brother so blond?” Anna asked. “And you so redheaded--I thought Persians were darker-haired.”

Cordelia set her cup down. “There are all sorts of Persians, and we all look different,” she said. “You wouldn’t expect everyone in England to look alike, would you? Why should it be different for us? My father is British and very fair, and my mother’s hair was red when she was a little girl. Then it darkened, and as for Alastair--he dyes his hair.”

“He does?” Anna’s eyebrows, graceful swooping curves, went up. “Why?”

“Because he hates that his hair and skin and eyes are dark,” said Cordelia. “He always has. We have a country house in Devon, and people used to stare when we went into the village.”

Anna’s eyebrows had ceased swooping and taken on a decidedly menacing look. “People are--” She broke off with a sigh and a word Cordelia didn’t know. “Now I rather feel sympathy toward your brother, and that was the last thing I wanted. Quick, as me a question.”

this scene is from cordelia’s tea with anna. i won’t touch so much on the “peri from lalla rookh” comment so much as i’m afraid i don’t feel well enough qualified or researched to adequately represent people’s concerns about this statement, but i do know that there were several posts going around about people discussing how it rubbed them the wrong way, so i thought i would include it as well.

the rest, though, is a bit more obvious. one of the things about books is that it can be more difficult to interpret someone’s words and their meaning because we don’t have things like tone or facial expressions or any of that unless the author explicitly includes it. however, we can draw on the way other characters react to certain comments. cordelia goes on the defense, answering anna’s question “a little warily,” setting aside her tea and explaining rather bluntly that not all persians look the same. it’s pretty easy to infer from her reaction that she’s uncomfortable from anna’s words. now, is that to say anna was intentionally being racist toward cordelia and her family? absolutely not. this is where microaggressions come into play. we see them with anna and also with matthew and even jessamine (though we see hers in the infernal devices rather than the last hours). microaggressions, while often unintentional, are still a form of racism. given the times these characters have grown up in, it’s not necessarily a surprise, but that certainly doesn’t excuse her behavior.

there is, however, a more intentional party to this scene that really rubbed me the wrong way. it’s her discussion of alastair. cordelia has just explained that alastair dyes his hair to stop people from staring at him when he’s walking down the street, and anna replies that she feels sympathy for him and that is “the last thing” she wanted. i understand that she has her own feelings about alastair, likely from listening to the merry thieves’ depiction of him, but that doesn’t excuse her. she even starts to say something about it, likely drawing on her own experiences of wearing menswear at a time when fashion was much more strictly regulated in society than it is today. but she stops herself and instead goes on to reemphasize her dislike for cordelia’s brother and changes the subject.

She held up a small black-bound memorandum book... “This,” she announced, “will hold answers to all our questions.”

...

Matthew looked up, his eyes fever-bright. “Is this your list of conquests?”

“Of course not,” Anna declared. “It’s a memorandum book... about my conquests. That is an important but meaningful distinction.”

...

Anna flipped through the book. There were many pages, and many names written in a bold, sprawling hand.

“Hmm, let me see. Katherine, Alicia, Virginia--a very promising writer, you should look out for her work, James--Mariane, Virna, Eugenia--”

“Not my sister Eugenia?” Thomas nearly upended his cake.

“Oh, probably not,” Anna said. “Laura, Lily... ah, Hypatia. Well, it was a brief encounter, and I suppose you might say she seduced me...”

i hope i don’t have to explain this one too much. there’s just something... unsettling about the fact that anna is held up as this feminist icon and yet she keeps a book with the names of and her encounters with all the women she’s slept with... and then reads those names aloud to everyone. it’s a bit much, don’t you think? and all of this is even without touching the leak we got about her and ariadne, which i’d rather not speculate on too much but is also quite damning. 

all in all, i’d like to believe anna is really a good person who’s just misguided and confused, much because i love the idea of a genderqueer character, especially one in an era before stonewall, but her actions and behaviors have led me to believe that she has a long road ahead of her. as i said earlier this week:

let me get something clear: i would die for fanon anna but canon anna needs to get her shit together before i’ll willingly breathe in her direction

i really hope this was helpful... i did my best lol. if anyone else has more to add, please feel free.