#live goals well actually death goals

[worldwhampion]

(spoilers of u haven't done the newest quest line)

(also sorry I haven't sent an ask in so long, I haven't played nms for a bit lol)

I'm really loving all the lore we got! those big Atlantis probe things from the expedition still show up in space, one pretty much outright stated that the probes are actually ancient escape pods from the destruction of korvax prime. And the korvax were in there for so long atlantideum began to grow out of their bodies, creating a structure similar to the ones you mine sentience echoes from!

Also unrelated theory, but I think if the first spawn won they might've destroyed the universe accidentally. They think the universe is not a simulation and is knowable. This combined with their greed and probable lack of environmental concern, means they probably would grab any gravitino balls they can, and with no sentinels around to drive them off and mend the wound in spacetime, the damage would pile up and the simulation would break.

HIII took me long enough to answer your ask, I apologize. I’m free now so let’s get to it!

It’s going to take a while for me to do the autophage quest myself since i actually haven’t finished the artemis path yet (but at this point i do know already it inside out). However i did watch playthroughs and i also made a decent transcript of the quest. And YOU BET i have some thoughts about this. Especially on atlantideum.

i. ATLANTIDEUM

(from world of glass lore archive server)

When you reveal atlantideum to the atlas something very interesting happens. From this piece of lore i’m pretty sure atlantideum is corrupted data- OF THE ABYSS. And the atlas does not react well to this data at all.

ATLANTIDeum. Are you seeing this. It’s literally like parts of the abyss. Call it abyss dust.

I think atlantideum are crystals which contain her (corrupted) data, or in any case you bet it’s related to wog. They’re probably coming straight from the world of glass, seeping into the simulations. These crystals are scattered all over the place, and lore-wise they’re probably multiplying on a pretty concerning rate at the moment. I think this is how the abyss is returning, by hauling her data back into the world. The world of glass is assimilating with the simulations if you will! She’s only able to do this because the atlas is literally falling apart as she proceeds with her girlboss plan. The atlas is weakening while she is growing stronger (she’s probably weakening the atlas too in the proces). They’re probably fighting for control over the systems, and she is definitely going for absolute power. You’re gonna need that if you want to save everything dying along with the computer that runs reality.

The atlas can’t do anything about the crystals (or data), because it does not have access to this data and cannot delete it from its systems. The abyss seems to be an entity acting separately from the system or the atlas, so you can say she is interfering with the simulations like a foreign entity. She is a subroutine of the atlas though, which has now gone rogue (see iii. FIRST SPAWN ACCIDENTAL UNIVERSE DESTRUCTION).

Thorn summed this up ON POINT. Being atlas… is suffering.

While the atlantideum hit made the atlas have an asthmatic attack, someone else smoked it up like nipnip. Nada took the abyss blunt very well.

The atlantideum gave nada data of the abyss, to me this is like injecting memories into your mind. Now we know that nada canonically likes smoking atlantideum! While the atlas is pro war on drugs. The traveller can become nada’s abyss blunt dealer.

ii. KORVAX ESCAPE POD

“And the korvax were in there for so long atlantideum began to grow out of their bodies, creating a structure similar to the ones you mine sentience echoes from!”

Sadly i don’t have that particular dialogue you mentioned about the korvax escape pod so i might miss a few details. I want to read it so if anyone finds it SEND IT TO ME STAT i need my lore like how nada needs their blunt.

The atlantideum item description reads:

Atlantideum can take over hosts, both mechanical and biological. I see this as the hosts coming under influence or under control of the abyss, probably depending on the amount of crystals they have stuck in their skin.

Finally we have a bit of clarification for the following lines:

(from the abandoned building logs)

I believe these beings to be the family glass. Sadly they never went beyond name dropping them but that doesn’t stop me from having theories. They are beings that live on in the world of glass who have probably lived in the simulations at first (before they died).

We have know seen the effects of glass/atlantideum on both mechanical and biological beings. For mechanical beings (like nada and the atlas) simply coming into close contact with the crystals is already enough to have an effect, while for biological beings they have to literally shove the shards into their flesh. Just like piercings. Except these piercings drain your life and also may or may not keep hurting forever. However in the end it’s all worth it for the eldritch knowledge.

It’s not said whether these crystals are really atlantideum (crystals containing data of the abyss specifically?), but this is probably what happens when you put it under your skin while also being biological. you get a cool piercing, AND you also become a vessel for intelligences unlike us (void milves).

The abyss can exert influence/control through not only nanites (in the water), but through atlantideum too? Well it is a literal substance named after her. The korvax in the escape pod definitely came under her influence too and became divergent by extension. She is pretty much the divergence personified. As for how the atlantideum got there, i’m thinking the abyss messed a little with the nanites in their body? I mean she is a master nanite bender, arguably the best one the simulations have ever seen. Not everyone can infest half the water in the known multiverse with nanites every day like she does casually.

The abyss does a lot of polluting, in water it’s nanites, on land it’s atlantideum crystals. She really just decided that environmental pollution is the best way to spread her presence everywhere. And you cannot deny that she is completely right since it’s working that well. This is like spreading microplastics which have the power to change reality itself.

In game you can refine atlantideum into nanites, by first refining it into pugneum and then to nanites. So nanites and atlantideum are pretty closely related.

iii. FIRST SPAWN ACCIDENTAL UNIVERSE DESTRUCTION

“Also unrelated theory, but I think if the first spawn won they might've destroyed the universe accidentally. They think the universe is not a simulation and is knowable. This combined with their greed and probable lack of environmental concern, means they probably would grab any gravitino balls they can, and with no sentinels around to drive them off and mend the wound in spacetime, the damage would pile up and the simulation would break.”

Oh man i have something for you.

(boundary failure logs)

The first spawn exploited a whole subroutine (ie the convergence) for their personal interests- on a multiversal scale. Since a subroutine is like a working part of the atlas itself, the exploitation might’ve done some damage to the system in terms of software (?) i mean can you still carry out whatever tasks you should be doing properly if you were subjected to gruesome slavery across the multiverse. you’d need godly multitasking skills for this. Not sure to what extent it really affected the system, but it would have done at least something.

Telamon did say that the entire enslavement of the korvax is a reflection of the atlas breaking down. The convergence, being modeled after earlier forms of the atlas, is kind of the atlas personified in the simulations. Now when you’re enslaved, you do break down mentally and physically. The korvax suffered because the atlas itself was suffering. And the first spawn might’ve been a reflection of the harm the atlas was facing. In the end the first spawn was genetically engineered into the gek, not completely wiped out but “mitigated” using their nanites. this could apply to the harm too, it’ll never be removed, only lessened. I find it very interesting how the korvax polluting the gek spawning pools with nanites is very much parallel with the abyss infesting the water with nanites as well. Both do this to get out of hard times, by trying to lessen the harm but never able to remove it completely. This does seems to be what the atlas is doing to try saving itself. The repeated universe resets are also a reflection in the simulations except it is more meta.

Now onto the balls!

If the first spawn did start grabbing gravitino balls left and right without a single care unchecked, then that means the atlas is. royally fucked. I’d say then it’s literally not able to keep running simulations anymore. Like they would end prematurely because it’d crash halfway through, as reflected by the reality weakening from unrestrained gravitino ball harvesting once they get to that part in history. whatever horrors the atlas is facing at the moment isn’t enough for this to happen. Recovering from brutal enslavement does sound better than the whole simulation straight up crashing down. You could always have it worse! Sparkle on!

[dbphantom]

WHOAG I slept for 14 hours and had a very long dream about Bl/3 H2O au

[yujateaandpi]

Senshi and Parenthood

I’m obsessed with Senshi’s narrative role— or lack thereof actually. He’s not there to devote himself to a cause or further the plot, I actually don’t think he knows why he’s there for 90% of the story. He just. Saw a bunch of bumbling young looking people and went “well somebody’s got to feed them.”

And meanwhile there’s. Eldritch chaos and a complex narrative centered around life death and rebirth being intrinsically tied into the concept of hunger and appetite— and Senshi is standing there with his wok like, “okay sure you’re under the thrall of your own desires puppeted by an interdimensional being how bout I make you a pie and you calm down.” And it WORKS.

It works every time because surprise surprise people do need to be fed in order to work to their goals. It reminds me of how much we take our guardians for granted. How much it means to be a parent or caretaker making meal after meal for others. What it means to nurture people so they can get up each day and fulfill their dreams.

We so often take these loved ones in our lives for granted. They’re not there to save the day. They’re there to save us. They’ll think about our needs and inclinations when no one else will.

If you’re blessed enough to have a Senshi in your life, appreciate them!! They may not be slaying the demons, but they’re the ones who got you there.

Love him. He’s Mother.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!

Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe

Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈

Have a great day!!!

Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦

Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.

It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’

Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’

‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.

So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.

Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.

After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’

So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.

‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.

He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.

You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’

‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.

[vasquez-rocks]

i know most ppl haven’t seen it yet but wanted to write something abt how annoyed some of the critical discourse abt I Saw the TV Glow is making me. MAJOR SPOILERS below the break, be warned!!

so idk i’ve seen so many reviews of the film positing that it’s about the dangers of obsessive fandom and overidentification with fictional characters, esp vis a vis real life self-actualization/coming out. (like, essentially every review has some of this in it, from what i’ve seen.) and, like: i don’t think that’s wrong, but i also think it’s massively underselling what schoenbrun is doing here. the metaphor of the show’s bleed-over is so smart because works in both directions at once.

like, in one direction: when maddy asks owen to come into the show by burying himself alive, you can read it as her asking him to abandon his real-life responsibilities, and the material facts of his real life body, in favor of a fantasy life where everything is already fixed. she’s inviting him to skip over the hard, messy work of transitioning and to sink even deeper into the analgesic obsessions he uses to numb his dysphoria. in this interpretation, it’s, like, the equivalent of overprioritizing “transition goals” instead of actually medically/legally/socially transitioning if that’s what you want, living forever in the ideal instead of taking difficult steps to change the material. (also, uh, if you don’t think she’s literally correct about the nature of reality, she is in fact asking him to kill himself. there’s that.)

BUT! it also works the other way. when maddy tells owen that the show is real, that their lives are just the buried dreams of dying girls in another life, she terrifies him by confronting him with something he’s always known about himself: he was supposed to be a girl. what she proposes is radical, dangerous, seemingly unhinged, and based on a childish fixation: all the things scared closeted trans people worry transition is, basically. on a more figurative level, too, the feeling she’s telling owen is real – that his real life is just a dream within a dream, that his home is not his home, that he belongs somewhere else, that he is supposed to be SOMEONE else – is something so, so, so many closeted trans people have felt before, myself so much included. when he sobs in the shower, yelling “this isn’t my home!” at his dad, i felt a sense of identification stronger than i’ve almost ever gotten from art before. when maddy finally calls him isabel, it’s the gentlest thing i can imagine.

in this read – which i do love, while thinking the other one is simultaneously true – it’s less “come sink deeper into delusion with me instead of dealing with your own life” and more “it’s going to be terrifying, but that childish dream of being a girl you once held wasn’t childish, and it can be real if you’re courageous enough.” he says he runs away from the football field because he thinks maddy’s not mentally well; it takes very little analysis of subtext to figure out he’s running away because he’s afraid of how much he wants what she’s offering. and, of course, the idea of the visible world being an illusion laid atop the world in which one is one’s truest self is a classic trope of trans cinema going all the way back to the matrix. (also: while i’m pretty death-of-the-author-pilled in most media analysis, it kinda seems like schoenbrun themself has interpreted the film in this way, as they’ve spoken at length in interviews about how, to them, transition felt like asking to be buried alive.)

all of which is to say: i think the film IS commenting on fandom, obsession, overidentification, and the ease with which queer people can sink into art as a way to dissociate from real life. but i think it makes the film so much more cynical and so much less tender to treat it as the ONLY read of the film’s relationship with the pink opaque. art, especially the sort of slow, metaphor-laden art schoenbrun makes, is best when it is complex and productively contradictory. the pink opaque is a problem, and an escape, and a fantasy, and it’s real, and one day isabel is going to wake up.

[maxwell-grant]

There's a trend people have pointed out in superhero stories over the past 20 or so years that is the death of "regular" supporting casts, an increasing absence of un-powered sidekicks or people involved who aren't in the thick of the action or in the hero's secret. Everyone who interacts with superheroes is a couple issues away from becoming one, every story involves a supervillain encounter or several dozen, every hero's gotta have a lunchbox-ready "superhero family" made from these characters, and every side character that doesn't join them is either going to die or become a supervillain.

The defining example people use for this is Spider-Man's supporting cast, with every Spider-Man cast member short of Aunt May and J Jonah Jameson getting some kind of powered upgrade or symbiote, and I'm gonna say Amanda Waller is an excellent case study of how this kind of thing happens, and I think it helps to explain why Amanda Waller has been, Like That, for the past 30 years.

She’s wearing a grey shirt underneath a blue blazer and it’s tucked into a similarly blue skirt that stops at mid calf. She reminds me of the neighbourhood aunties I used to see leaving for church every Sunday morning.

My mom used to say that you are the company you keep. So what kind of person does it take to keep a variety of bruised, battered, and dangerous personalities in check? - Amanda Waller: DC's Most Terrifying Woman

To those of you who haven't read John Ostrander and Kim Yale's Suicide Squad, there once was a time where Amanda Waller was something more than a powerful antagonistic force able to butt heads with the biggest superheroes, and something other than a heartless establishment face out to make superheroes miserable for ill-defined reasons. Structurally speaking, Suicide Squad is a comic about marginal DCU characters forced to deal with actual real life problems, and it's central character is a marginalized person forced to deal with DCU problems and characters. The members of the Squad are a rolling parade of costumed misfits and maniacs assigned to go around the globe to fight and kill and die on dirty missions to deal with dirty laundry and stop war zones from erupting, while Amanda Waller is forced to shuffle around her cadre of D-list supervillains and disgraced superheroes and get into stand-offs with secret spy societies, living nukes, voodoo cartels, and Batman.

Amanda Waller neither looks nor acts like the kind of character that stars in a superhero comic, and she is the central character throughout the 66 issues of the run and we follow her character arc from beginning to end as she's forced to spin plates to accomplish her goals and prevent bad situations from getting worse. She is the most fully realized character in the run and everything rests on her shoulders. We spend a lot of time inside her head, her team, her associates, she is the center holding together an extremely chaotic book with no two characters on the same page. She is, and has to be, an extremely powerful person, someone who stands her ground no matter what, an unbeatable force of will because that is the only way she's going to survive the situations she's in, the only way she can be "The Wall", the kind of person who can repel Batman, command a platoon of monsters, talk her way out of Deadshot's contract, someone who can stare at Darkseid and credibly threaten the President into letting her live.

That's the part that everyone is more or less familiar. But there is, or at least used to be, much more to Amanda Waller than just being The Wall, not in the least because being The Wall is also hampering her effectiveness as well as straight up killing her.

"Amanda's toughness has taken her a long way" "It's taken her as far as it can. But it can't take her no further. It's actually starting to drag her down. I'm scared for my baby sister, rev - scared that the anger in her is congealing into hate." - Suicide Squad #31

We get to know her backstory, her plans, her points of contention with the system, her relationships with people around her, and how deeply she cares about things and people even as she sends them to the meatgrinder. From the start we learn that Waller staffs her team with people she's prone to getting into disagreements with, like Simon LaGrieve and Rick Flag, specifically so they can cover her moral blind spots and pick up the slack in emotional intelligence she's lacking, be the heroes that she can't afford to be. It is unspeakably crucial that the Squad is led by Rick Flag as well as Bronze Tiger, a fallen hero who owes Waller for his recovery who eventually takes Flag's baton. Waller stands up for her team, gets into fights with her superiors when they decide to terminate them, and takes the fall for them when necessary. Waller is a person who does Bad Things - but she is not a Bad Person.

The book in no uncertain terms frames the Suicide Squad's existence as monstrous in a scale Waller doesn't understand until the very end, and it digs deep into the unethical things Waller has to allow for and perpetrate in order to keep it running no matter how many lives it saves, and she spends the first half of the book on a downward spiral. But then there's the 2nd half of the book:

In the first 39 issues, Amanda’s flaws are her undoing. As she pushes away the people she hired to act as a balance, she grasped tighter and tighter to her uncompromised vision of the Suicide Squad despite the constant changes and derailment. Her choices had consequences: the death of Rick Flag, her demotion, employees quitting, and finally, the disbandment of the team.

The last 27 issues have Amanda rising up from the ashes after a year in jail. She’s less in her own way – she communicates, her anger isn’t driving her, she’s more receptive of alternative perspective and recognizes when she’s wrong in real time – but she’s still just as scary.

Waller rebuilds her relationships with the people she drove away, takes a different tack to how the team works, and starts going out into the frontlines with the Squad. She brings Oracle (who actually made her debut in this comic) into the fold, saves her life and plays a big role in Barbara making progress in overcoming her Joker trauma. She genuinely puts in the work to improve as a person and do things a better way than before, even if there is an inescapable immorality to the very existence of the Squad and what they do. That immorality never goes away, and it only further horrifies her when learning how badly her project has gone. In fact, it's that very inescapable immorality that ends her arc.

She learns that the CIA has started using a new Suicide Squad to support a brutal regime in South America, and when faced with the full extent of her complicity in Western imperialism? She decides right then and there to end the Suicide Squad for good after they liberate the population of said regime from said Squad. She is the only person who gives a shit about the country enough to start the assignment for free once she knows about it, force the Squad along, lead the mission in field, and personally (and even gently) usher the villain to his death at the end, to end what began with her.

She does bad things, and she does good things. She cares about people, and she uses people. Her decisions ruin as well as save the world. She spins a million plates to match wills and wits with the strongest, wickedest, most cunning humans and superhumans alike, and she still has superiors to answer to and people close to her she hires to judge her for what she does. She endured racism and misogyny and poverty for decades and rode whatever she could to attain as much power over her own life as someone like her could possibly attain, and to have it, she must be a willing tool of the state and bend the knee to Ronald Reagan, the man she derides for what he did to her community, hating every minute of it.

She lost her family to sexual and racial violence, and now she wrangles a penal battalion comprised of some of the worst people on the planet to inflict violence on her orders. She has saved and redeemed people, and she's haunted by the corpses she's left in her wake. She is oppressed and oppressor, someone who could only escape the ravages of American imperialism by becoming one of it's chief enforcers, and still she rebuilds herself into a better person from it upon confronting and challenging her role in it. She is not a bad person, she is not a good person either, she is just afforded a degree of agency and complexity unpowered characters in superhero books simply don't get.

Okay cool, now what is she up to these days?

That, I guess. That is what a strong but unpowered person who does not allow themselves to be bossed around by superheroes or supervillains looks like now. Everytime there's a call for a military bad guy, Waller gets tagged in to be DC's Henry Gyrich. There was a point where Waller was made to contrast the likes of Sarge Steel and Wade Eiling, someone who butted heads with them because she was a well-meaning person working for and committing evil as often as she attempted to stop it. These days, the most consistent beat with her is that she is the most dangerous person alive and worse than the villains she wrangles into working for her. She is a thing to be overcome, a hypocrite to be exposed, a challenge to the natural order of the universe, and she is too terrific at it to be shuffled off quietly. She is a Bad Person and so everything she says and does is Bad (and thus can be ignored).

Integral to Suicide Squad's structure was the fact that Waller was the center holding everything together, the ultimate third party: spinning plates working with, for and against all of the others so she can bend rules and be bent by them. Bent, but never broken, because The Wall doesn't break, others break first. Waller was a one-of-a-kind character, and that broke her, because beating Sarge Steel and Wade Eiling at their own game means replacing Sarge Steel and Wade Eiling. Waller doesn't look like them, she doesn't look like the superheroes either, and so she can't be one of them. She can't even look like herself a lot of the time, they try to slim her up everytime they think they can get away with it.

Suicide Squad was preoccupied with exploring a perspective from a world outside the superhero worldview, but we no longer have her perspective or that of people around her, we only know her through the superheroes she inherently defies and has had an adversarial relationship against from day one. She is someone with a viewpoint that is charitable to neither superheroes nor institutions, and thus, the universe is increasingly less sympathetic to her, the less utility she has to the grander narrative where everyone has to pick between one of two options. If she wasn't powerful and assertive, she'd be another Leslie Thompkins, another Jiminy Cricket the heroes passively ignore. But because she is powerful and doing morally compromised things without asking Batman's permission, she must have a personal grudge. She must be a government monster. She must attack the superheroes for no reason, no ideology, no motive.

So now she's just The Wall 24/7, the mean icy establishment boot who is strong and clever and cruel and hates superheroes and wants to destroy superheroes and rule the world from the shadows. Everything she does is a fuck-up she refuses to take responsability for, everyone is right to hate and distrust mean old Waller, and now everyone gets to look good by dunking on her. They couldn't make her a superhero, so they made her a generic supervillain instead. And now that she's a bad guy, she no longer has to believe anything, she doesn't really have to mean anything, they don't have to write stories about something other than superheroes and supervillains, and they don't have to let a fat woman of color take up space and screentime they could be giving to Harley Quinn and Slade Wilson instead.

Even by the time of Waller's debut on the tail end of the 80s, her career opportunities were on their way to extinction

Days Of Future Past marks the triumph of the superhero comic that's pretty much concerned with no-one but superheroes. Where Ditko and Lee's Spider-Man featured a single costumed crimefighter in the context of a commonplace existence, the X-Men of the 80s focused on a huge cast of mutants who had little if any lasting involvement in the everyday world.

By the 21st century, the corporate superhero comic would largely - if not exclusively - concern itself with little beyond a large class of superhumans and their fantastical existence. I suspect there's a significant correlation between that and the continuing cultural  peripherilisation of the superhero comic - Colin Smith

Amanda Waller is one of the strongest characters in all of comics, she was as powerful as an non-superpowered character given center stage could possibly be, a perfectly designed character from which an entire corner of a shared universe was developed out of with her as the center making it work, but as the room for civilian casts and unpowered protagonists got smaller and smaller, so did Waller's options. If she was a Spider-Man character and somehow didn't get killed or made into a villain, they would have slimmed her up and given her a symbiote, because you're nobody unless you're web-swinging. Characters didn't look or act like Amanda Waller, and unfortunately, they still don't. It's just instead of making more characters like her, they gutted Waller to be more like the rest. If she couldn't make it, who else even could.

Keep your eyes peeled for this summer when she'll team up with two meaningless robot baddies to burn down the Justice League and I guess the universe for the next reboot or something.

[runabout-river]

The Incongruence of his Life and Death - How the 6-Eyes will Die and Gojo Satoru will Live

Chapter 236 seems perfectly crafted for a farewell to an important character. But while reading it for the first, second and third time, I couldn't help but feel that something was not only missing but purposefully left out: Gojo's care for his students and the goals he had set for himself as an adult.

In the departure for the afterlife, where the souls of his dead friends have gathered at an airport, Gojo is back to being a teenager with everyone else also being their younger self, or in the case of Haibara and Toji, their selves when they died.

Gojo talks about his fight with Sukuna, how unbelievably strong he was and how much he had trained to best him but still he lost and he had no true regrets on that. The fight had been fun even if it was a shame that he couldn't bring Sukuna to go all out on him.

Later he tells Yaga, calling him principal, that he thought that all sorcerers died with regret, implying that he doesn't feel any regret right now after having lost to Sukuna. When Sukuna tells Gojo that he won't forget him as long as he lives because of how well he fought, we see Gojo smiling at that while lying bisected on the ground.

This entire scene, especially at the airport and the reverence about the fight is completely at odds with Gojo's character growth and the life he lived as an adult.

It's no coincidence that everyone is more than 10 years younger here because only teenage Gojo would go out without any regrets after a good fight he lost. This Gojo we see at the airport could've very well been the Gojo that lost his first fight against Toji.

But it isn't teenage Gojo, someone who only had a perverse self-satisfaction about Jujutsu and did it for the kick of it instead of protecting others with it, who died.

It's adult Gojo, who dedicated his life to protect others and his students and who fostered them to become as strong as him and did everything so they could grow unhindered and enjoy life especially their youth, who is lying cut in two on the ground.

This love for fighting alone only entered Gojo's mind past the middle of the Shinjuku Showdown when he realized that he might lose this fight and after he was reminded of fucking Toji again. Gojo was brought back to the time of his teenage self when he lost against an opponent who was stronger than him.

But what about the actual Gojo? Teacher Gojo? Would he die without any regrets? Absolutely not. His regrets would actually be too much to count.

He left his students and the world with a murderer stronger than him, ensuring widespread destruction and immense death, first and foremost of everyone he left behind that meant something to him.

Gojo let it happen that Megumi, the person he went into this fight to save, who was the child that started his evolution into a teacher, the son of the man who made him to what he is today; Gojo let it happen that Megumi became his executioner.

(And is Geto without regrets? Is Gojo without any regrets that Kenjaku is desecrating his friend's body to destroy Japan? Isn't there any fear that Kenjaku might take Gojo's dead body as his next vessel? Where is the regret in that?)

When we strip the airport scene from its serenity and the good feelings of a happy ending it evokes, we're left with nothing but pure arrogance the dead have over the suffering of the living. So they get to enjoy peace while everyone else is devastated and about to get slaughtered?

Is that justifiable because everyone will be dead anyway and then they can all enjoy the afterlife together? Except Megumi of course, who'll be Sukuna's vessel for centuries if not millennia and who'll suffer in hell for that long after having killed not only his sister but his teacher and his friends in the future, too.

Those who are already dead like Nanami, they can't do anything about this conundrum anymore but Gojo was still smiling on the ground. So, after the thematic argument for why Gojo has to survive, here comes the practical part: How?

I've already covered parts of this in my chapter 236 Thoughts. Step by step:

Gojo is bisected along his abdomen, not his head

Gojo was still conscious enough to smile at Sukuna, like how Yuki was still able to make her last attack

Gojo can activate his RCT and he can make a Binding Vow as long as he isn't completely dead

We've not seen Shoko's reaction to his defeat, so we have neither a confirmation of his death nor her determination to save him

Utahime and Gramps can strengthen any healing

Angel might have abilities to aid them and Takaba has reality bending powers as long as he's funny

Why the 6-Eyes will still die.

Because it's already over for him. The 6-Eyes is not the strongest sorcerer on earth. His ultimate defense has found its match in Sukuna evolving his own technique; an evolution that Gojo is not going to catch up to.

"Are you Gojo Satoru because you're the Strongest or are you the Strongest because you're Gojo Satoru?"

Irrelevant. Sukuna is the Strongest. That title and that burden has been lifted off Gojo's shoulders. Gojo makes peace with it at the airport.

A Binding Vow with yourself always comes with a balance the universe imposes on you. What would the trade-off be for Gojo's upper and lower body to be connected again? His Eyes seems like a good bargain here.

So there you have it, my theory. The 6-Eyes lost this fight but Gojo sensei can still lead and foster his students to new heights he won't ever personally reach again. He can't just forget about them because he had a good fight, Gojo isn't a self-centred teenager anymore.

You know who was missing at the airport? Outside of Nobara, Yuki and Mai? Tsumiki. What is Gojo going to say to her? That he tried but well? Gojo isn't at the airport for his departure to the afterlife, he isn't going North, he's going South.

All of this is of course my personal feelings and interpretation. Gege might go in another direction like permanent death and flashbacks. But I'm so sure that Gege has written the airport intentionally like this. That Shoko will go to Gojo and pull him out of his death bed because he can't go out like this.

Chapter 236 is written with a sense of finality and farewell, but Gege is also really fond of misdirections and false sense of security (dread?) as we've seen just last chapter.

So, hope dies last.

[gremlingottoosilly]

"If you need to be mean"

Konig just got his promotion to colonel. It also came with deployment in a terrorist-ridden country, but at least he would get an adorable, civilian you as a prize. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig perspective Word count: 5213 My AO3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

König hates this fucking country.

Shithole in the middle of nowhere, with literally nothing going on – some border quarrels with some terrorists that are desperately trying to settle into the big war on terror that won’t achieve a thing and would be meaningless anyway. No one wanted to actually station here – this is why they promoted him so quickly, just so they could send him away like a pack of garbage they can’t give two shit about throwing out. 

He never even wanted this promotion. Too much work, too many people, never enough time to relax. Payment is sweet, of course – if he only had time to use any of this. He is too old for new titles, you can’t teach old dog new tricks – and, quite frankly, he does feel terribly old while doing nothing but pushing papers and listening to some useless fucking recruits with their reports. 

Job is simple – stay on the base, make sure that the locals won’t become too villifed to the soldiers that are supposed to protect them, even though he already knows how people would feel about the PMC stationed in their city. Fights with occasional resistance from the outsider force that decided “Hey, let’s just annex our neighbor, what could possibly happen?”. He doesn’t know a lot about this country – but if they have enough money to hire KorTac to help the local forces, he might be quite interested. If he only had energy for that anymore – between relentless paperwork and occasional yelling at his stupid fucking nonsense of rookie – seriously, it feels like they hired a bunch of edgy 12 year olds instead of normal soldiers. 

Job is simple and he finds himself bored to death because this isn’t what he enlisted for. He wanted to fight, to kill, to burden this urge to hurt people who once wronged him with someone who is – probably, maybe, somehow – deserve it. Not really a noble cause, but he stopped playing knight in shining armor once they used him as an infiltration weapon instead of what he actually wanted. All hopes and goals in his life were buried deep with his first sniper rifle – and rude comments about his inability to sit still, even though he is still as good at being a killing machine as a human being possibly can. 

— Sir! We, uh, have a problem to report. 

Gut. 

A problem – this sounds as exciting as it can be. Last time his brigade got a problem, it was about some new recruits falling down with stomach ache because of the forged alcohol they were drinking. Also that one time someone tried to burst their way into the base – not fun, since officers took care of him, but it was at least something to do except for reading and scrolling through various housing options like he actually has a use of buying something with more than one bedroom. Like someone would look at him and love him – enough to pass through some easy fling and start living with him. No one would do that – even his parents couldn’t. 

Still, the problem sounds exciting. Maybe, he could actually go on a mission instead of feeling useless. They promoted him just to pin on the wall like a trophy.

— Repost immediately, soldier. What is it? 

— A civilian, well…a civillina woman…lady, broke the curfew. 

And here it is. Not an unexpected attack from his enemies, not even a drunken fight that someone from his subordinates decided to join and ended up getting their asses kicked. Is this what years of service come to? Watching over some stupid club girls broking the easiest fucking rule to follow, like getting home at midnight is a completely alien experience for them. One of the things he hates about his rank – he is used like a public figure, giving speeches, trying so hard to come up with something other than “Ja, we will kick asses of everyone who tries to infiltrate your country, don’t worry” and then he has to act like he knows what he is doing. Which he obviously doesn’t. If there was a way to just give up his rank and become a shadow again, a monster under a terrorist’s bed, he would do it. Without even a second to think. 

— Send her to the police. We aren’t supposed to deal with…

Then comes the second guy – he doesn’t even remember his name, fuck this, he is supposed to be a father to his troops, or big brother at least, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck to someone weaker – inferior, smaller, someone who will die within a week or so in his first battle because apparently, higher-ups just love recruiting spineless teenagers now. 

Second guy comes to the room, holding someone very firmly by their hand – and König isn’t religious, he isn’t even sure when was the last time he was at any church, the little prayers his grandma used to sing is long forgotten for him, but he sees your face and almost believes in angels. 

König is too old for this shit, again, he hates this country, his team, his rank – then he looks at your face, the way it twists with fear and nervousness because of course, one of his dumb subordinates is holding you too tight and the softness of your flesh – why in the world you are wearing such light clothes, it’s night outside, you will catch a cold and he would give you his jacket, but that would drown you under the weight of it, and he don’t want you to smell the alcohol he has on his clothes, terrible coping mechanism with boredom, and he might just give you something else, maybe, like his shirt or a…

Wait a minute. 

He doesn’t even know your name, even though he is sure this is something gorgeous and would look perfect next to his last name, but he looks at your face and all the years of his military training is suddenly washed away because he can’t even muster a thing out of his mouth. Thank god no one is forcing him to stop wearing his hood – he wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise, not with how hot his face feels right now. You are nervous, this is obvious, since you broke the curfew and went on the streets past 11 pm. He should just bring you to the police, he isn’t even sure why his soldiers would bring some random civilian to the base. He immediately wants to give this private a raise – for bringing him a goddess walking on Earth. Angel, succubus, all of the fancy names and…it feels like he is going crazy. And he should compose himself. Be a good example of a rotten mercenary commander. 

— Why were you breaking the curfew, miss..?

He hates how squeaky his voice sounds, even after all the years in service he can’t get rid of that boyish tone and nervousness every time he is talking to women. All the fear is immediately washed away after you tell him your name – and it’s gorgeous, perfect, feels like something he can devour, something he can moan in the depth of the night while using his hand as a poor substitute for the warmth of your body. 

The pause lingers too much and he already suggests just…taking you. To further investigation. to see if you are really just an innocent person caught up in breaking the rules or an enemy spy – which would give him the perfect opportunity to interrogate you and hold you for a bit longer. He wants you to be a problem, actually – that would give him the authority to hold you here, to think about you in a way that won’t immediately make him a bad person. 

— Went to the pharmacy. Forgot about the time, I’m…I’m sorry. 

You look guilty and weak and nervous obviously – a good girl caught up in the reality of her home country now implementing new rules just so it won’t get annexed by their neighbor. He wants to protect you – or give you the real reason to be scared of him. He wants to be good, but you look too cold in those clothes and he wants to give you something more. Or warm you up in a different way – which makes him feel horrible, his skin crawls and hands are fidgeting again even though he is almost sure he forgot about that habit after a few trigger-happy moments with the enemies. 

— Pharmacies should be closed by this time. Why were you here so late? 

Soldier that brought you here left you with König – colonel, you saw him in the newspapers and on TV, some public speeches while concealing his face in various ways. You don’t trust him, don’t trust the mercenaries – how can you believe that they are going to save you if they don’t even dare to show their faces? He is even scarier in person – big, hulking, too muscular to feel safe, with something like a sack thrown over his head. You want to forget about the medicine you bought and just run away, but that would only mean outright saying that you are guilty. 

You brace yourself and try not to feel too small, but König just wants to wrap his hands around you and throw that weak body of yours on his shoulder. Not letting you go away. Ever.

— I…got lost. Sorry, I know what this looks like, but I just changed the apartment and…look, this is a bog misunderstanding. I have my documents, I’m local! Not some spy or anything, I promise. 

Too bad – you would have the opportunity to escape if you were an enemy. Some evil and wicked femme fattal that is here to seduce him and get the important information out of him – but if you are telling the truth and nothing, but a civilian, he isn’t sure that he could save you from…falling to his hands. It’s stupid, he should really just find someone to fuck, he is getting desperate over the first cute and gentle girl he saw in this place – but really, do he has a chance with a soldier if just a helpless weakling like you can make him kneel? He needs to compose himself. 

— You really shouldn’t be out so late. There is a reason the curfew is upheld. It saves you from the danger. 

— For now the only danger after midnight is your soldiers, apparently. 

Your breath hitches as you understand what you just said – god, who was holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of the fucking commander? You might have had the chance of just escaping before, you weren’t doing anything wrong, you know that some of your friends were breaking the curfew after a party or late visits, but they were never held to the police or martial law – soldiers are understanding of the situation, no one from the young people actually wants to stay in their houses no matter the threats war can bring. You might have the chance of going out with nothing but some harsh words about those stupid younglings ignoring the rules – but now you insulted his men and this will probably bring you to jail for the night at least or something even more…

He laughs. And the sound of it makes your cheeks warm. 

— Ja, I can understand why you would say that. But you shouldn’t break the curfew. 

You feel like winning a lottery, but the prize isn’t money – it’s the chance of getting out of this creepy building and going home to your warm sheets and slight smells of devastation and loneliness. 

— I’m really sorry, sir, I won’t do this again. Promise. 

You look guilty, and König loves this expression. The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with tears when you think he would actually make you goto jail or do something even worse. He relishes in this power over you – even though he doesn’t mingle with civilians, always keeps a safe distance with women around him, never dares to even give them a careful look. He wants to take you away – protect from the world around you, from this fucking place, from all the dangers. The only thing that is dangerous to you seems like him – because he is the only one with power here, the only one who can decide whether he wants to behave like an asshole and lock you away or…

— I can’t just let you go. Let me…I can escort you to your residence so I can make sure you actually went home. And not somewhere else.

He looks at your pharmacy bag – it's a shitty plastic one, transparent and see-through. He understands immediately why you would decide to run to the pharmacy so abruptly even within the vicinity of the curfew – and the fact your bag contains pads and pain medicine only makes him want to scoop you in his arms and get you to his quarters. Government gave them a pretty nice location for the base and he, as the commander, got a bedroom that won’t even make you think about the military. Perks of quartering outside of base, even the barracks are nicer than the ones at home – and he would love to introduce your sore body to the comforts of warm sheets. 

You look at him, surprised and nervous, your adorable lips twists in a pout as you think about your options. You can’t really say no, this can make him angry and resentful – and these aren't emotions you want the local military personnel to feel about you. He is also scary, and stares too much – you don’t want him to look at you like this, both surprised and depraved, but something in his figure still makes you trust him. Maybe it’s that weird propaganda about them protecting your country – he is a public figure, he can’t be evil, right? Maybe it’s just the way his hands fidgets as if he is nervous about your answer – or little cracks in his voice that makes you blush just a little every time you hear it. Or you are simply too tired to not comply. 

— I, um…are you sure? You must have some other things to do. I don’t want to be a bother, really. 

— I want to protect you from harm. Nights are dangerous. 

You want to say that it’s okay, you spend more time in this country than he is – and you know every little corner of the city by this point, no matter the military outposts and destruction. You also want to say that this is creepy as fuck and you don’t want a random guy to just know where you live – but you can’t say that, you are already almost buried yourself with that long tongue of yours, and the only thing you want to do right now is just drink your ibuprofen in peace and get teleported to your bed. 

You want to say no, but it almost feels like something romantic and even though he isn’t showing his face, the view of his muscles, bursting out his clothes and body armor, enough to make you agree. You can regret that decisions later – but with the way his eyes light up like he is a puppy, you probably won’t. 

— Okay. I…I mean, if that’s okay with you, sir. 

— I live to serve. Und ich diene gerne jemanden, dir so bezaubernd ist wie du.

— Sorry?

It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel like it’s something important – but you don’t want to ask for translation, he mutters it under his breath, Maybe some curses about stupid girls getting caught by his soldiers and how he needs to escort them to make sure they are not enemy spies ready to put their knives in his back.

— Just show the way. 

He is awkward, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he looks at you and fights the urge to just squish you with his hands. You are pouting, your hands are trembling, and you are shaking – maybe from the cold or just from fear. König hates himself for not understanding whether he wants you to be scared of him or not. There is something dark, predatory almost, in having someone as adorable as you shaking like a leaf – but he also wants to just scoop you in his hands and make sure you will never be afraid of him. 

He is awkward, silent, he goes on the open side of the sideroad like protecting you from any vehicles that may cross the road at this hour – even though the only ones who are allowed to move at this time of day are hospital workers and his soldiers. His hand looms over your side, like he is not sure whether he wants to just grab you by your shoulder or allow you to lead in a more simple way. You feel protected in a way – you can’t even read his expressions because of that weird mask he is wearing, but his eyes are strangely warm every time he looks at you and thinks you are not looking at him. 

König wants to talk, but he isn’t sure what he even can say to you. The weather is nice? It’s the night, a cold one, and he doesn’t want you to catch some weird illness, but he also doesn’t want to seem like a creep by giving you his jacket. He would do so in a blink of an eye, he would die seeing your smaller body wrapped in his clothes like a nice little gift – but he knows who he is. Monster, giant, always too much and never enough, zero experience with someone who is one his one night stand in some lousy pub when he hates himself a bit less than usual. And you smell clean, civilian, sweet almost, he feels like a dog by just looking at the way your cheeks are blushing from the cold weather. 

He wants to initiate the conversation, know what you like and dislike, maybe learn your opinion about the situation – many locals dislike military presence, he understands this, KorTac isn’t known for being the best guys around here, but they get the job done, however bloody this might be. He would give away anything to just be able to talk – to speak like a normal person, without scaring you or making you think that he is weird. It’s borderline embarrassing, over the many years of his life he was thinking that he would outgrow his anxiety somehow – and here he is, fidgeting with the stupid anti stress toy in his pocket that his therapist gave him, not knowing how to talk to a girl in his grown up years. 

— You’re local.

It doesn’t even sound like a genuine question, it’s more like a threatening statement and he doesn’t like the way it sounds. He can’t gave it back now, it would be even weirder, he just wants to calm down and breathe, but even this is fucking impossible when every time he looks at you, it seems like you are only getting prettier.

— Lived here all my life, sir. 

You’re nervous, and he at least finds some comfort in this – he is not the only one who is scared here, even though he understands that you will surely be more scared than him. But it still comforts him just a little, knowing that you are in roughly the same boat – he can smile under his hood and attempt to at least pretend to be normal. Even if this would be literally impossible for someone like him. 

— Where do you work? 

It sounds like an interrogation and you are not sure if you want to answer truthfully – he isn't trying to force you right now, he isn’t even touching you no matter how closely you are walking, but you are smart enough to understand why telling a random man you just met where you live and work is a bad idea. Even if the man itself is a prominent figure in protecting – or not – your country and literally walks you home because you got lucky to not be sent to the police for breaking the curfew. You would just lie to him about where you work and, hopefully, never see him again – but it’s not just a random guy you met on Tinder. He probably has the resources to check if you really work in said place and if you didn’t and just lied to him then, well…he isn’t threatening you, but your overthinking is enough to make you scared. 

— Just a waitress. Cafe I work at isn’t very far from my apartment. 

You even tell him the address, all while praying he won’t visit you at work. He has the right, of course, especially if he would leave a good tip, but military personnel staying at your cafe probably won’t be good for business. Clients may go away, and that would mean leaving you without tips – and then you can kiss your shitty apartment goodbye. He probably won’t visit you, he is just asking this to fill the awkward silence and check whether you are a spy or not – how confident your answers are, if your story checks out or not. He is a colonel, he must have a lot of other stuff to do instead of chasing over some rule breakers. 

— Hm. 

König already knows where he will be eating every day from now on. But…hell, can he do this, really? It would probably be very awkward for both of you, and you may think that is stalking you, which he definitely is, but doesn’t want to show it yet. He can give you a nice tip every time, he sure as hell has money for it, but then you would think that he is trying to buy you, which he would of course try to if you would be fine with it because honestly, girl as adorable as you should get all the nicest thing she wants to, and he can provide for it, but his damned awkwardness would never let him outright say this, which would lead to a very uncomfortable situation and…

— We might need someone local to help with operations. 

Nailed it. Right? 

— Wh…what do you mean, sir? 

You look scared, nervous, he doesn’t want you to be scared, you’re supposed to feel safe around him! He might hate higher ups for giving him this rank and sending him to this fucking country, but he will protect you no matter what. He wants to be useful, for people to stop being scared of him – to start liking him instead, even if some cold, dismissive way of just stopping bothering him with stupid stuff. He would allow you to bother him all the time, he would protect you and make sure you are alright – you just have to let him, that would be really easy and…

— We’re strangers here. Lots of operations crossed because locals refuse to cooperate. We might need a guide out here. 

He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t really care about your answer, but the grip of his hands is stating otherwise. He throws you nervous looks, cold eyes flickering with anxiety as you take your time to answer, secretly hoping that you would get home before you’d had to state this. It doesn’t feel like a genuine question, more like a statement again. More like you don’t really have an option to say no, since he still has the power over you. Since he still looks and sounds like someone who can and will throw you over his shoulder and use it as a cannon folder. 

— I…I’m not sure, sir. I have to work at my actual job. 

Can he blow up your cafe? That would greatly diminish the chances of bumping into you on a romantic Sunday morning, ordering coffee just the way you secretly like it, and then leaving you a very generous tip that would immediately show you what a sophisticated and loaded gentleman he is. He can say that enemies did it, and then he would execute those poor people for ever messing with civilians. He can also get some people from the government to close it, so you wouldn’t have any place to work and then you would be simply forced to work with him – and help him get out of this country as soon as possible. He would pay you well, of course, and being your boss would be a very…interesting experience for him. 

— Are you sure?

You bite your lips and it's proven to be a horrible idea in such terrible weather – your skin breaks easily and you feel the blood in your mouth. Nice – now you would have to invest in lip balms again even though you are sure as hell that even yesterday the weather was nice. Colonel – König, you remember his callsign, no names of course, some twisted secret identity over protecting people who can literally kill you and won’t have consequences – look at you and you can swear to god that his eyes are narrowed, studying your features a bit more. Is he going to kill you for refusing the…job offer? Demand of working with mercenaries to protect your country? 

— Sorry, I…I really need to think about this. And get at least two weeks notice from my job. 

He is too focused on the way blood is glistening on your lips. He wants to lift the lower half of his hood and lick every little drop lingering in your mouth. Kiss this little wound until you would turn into a moaning, crying mess under him. Hold you so tight, he would leave bruises in places his fingers were – all while you are allowing him to. He isn’t delusional enough to think you like him the way he adores you already, but he is delusional enough to imagine you would comply with him mostly – he is a great person. Except for almost everything, of course. 

The road to your home is lonely, no one around, obviously. People aren’t breaking the curfew on the main streets – except for you, apparently, they are tending to do stuff in the shadows if they need something to go out at night. He looks at every street light with suspicion, almost wanting for someone to try and attack you – that would allow him to be your hero, protector, to put out all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while being praised for it. He wants someone to try and kill him just to feel a bit more alive – but then you stop in front of the house, and it only takes one look for him to decide that no, he isn’t going to let you go that easily. He may not be a good or even decent person, but he is not allowing an adorable little thing like you to live in that fucking rathole. 

— You live here? 

— Yes. Thank you for, well, looking after me. I know that I broke rules, I won’t…won’t do that again. Sorry. 

— No. 

— What do you mean “No”?

Is he going to inspect your apartment? You are pretty sure that you left your bed in a very chaotic state and there is more than one pair of panties lying on the couch. Not even speaking about how horrible your living conditions are – tiny apartments, barely enough space for one person fitting in 20 square feet with all of their stuff inside, and an overwhelming desire to blow something up each morning when one of your neighbors is fighting again. 

You don’t have anything to hide, but you are getting pretty tired of people who just think that because they sold their bodies to the military, they can do what they want. 

— It’s a horrible place for a girl to live. 

Hey! You might hate your place, but even that rathole of an apartment doesn't deserve something like this. 

— Well, it’s not a castle, but…I manage. 

— Don’t you have another place to sleep? 

He is fighting with the urge to invite you to the base instead. Far greater place for a little goddess like you, much nicer than…this. He has to physically restrain himself from throwing a hand on your shoulder. He just stared, hoping that you would pull a prank on him and actually has some better living conditions – he can’t bear thinking about you in that kind of life instead. 

— It’s a nice one, really! At least I don’t have to live with roommates. 

He can be your roommate. No, not even like this. He can buy you a freaking house if you would want, just pick a place, preferably in Austria, and that would be easy. He would love to just provide for you, to get to live with someone as adorable – as in need of protection as you. He understands that being this delusional is off brand even to him and his wild fantasies, but he spends too much time hating his work lately, and he needs some outlets, breathing room to just drown himself in fantasies about a nice girl who can actually like him. Who can be his everything, a cure to fix him even though his therapist says such expectations from your partner are toxic and codependent. 

He knows that he can’t say anything to you right now. If anything, you would dismiss any of his worries and just call him a psycho – would be right, probably, he doesn’t even know why he is so obsessed with your safety all of a sudden. He is only self-reflective enough to understand that he can’t act right now, no matter how much he would want to. He can only sigh and let the situation go, for now. He can always just show up at the place you work at. Totally not creepy at all, definitely, completely. 

— Be safe, hase. This time is very dangerous for a girl like you. 

— It’s…okay, really. You don’t have to worry about me, sir. 

Oh, but he wants to. 

Oh, but you want to run up the stairs and close the door behind you as fast as you possibly can. And maybe, just maybe, give him your number – definitely for consultation about the safety and how you can forfeit from breaking the curfew later in life. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder, large fingers tracing over your thin shirt, and goosebumps that are running on your skin aren’t from just the cold weather. You feel ashamed for kinda liking the situation – you are creeped out by him, you are curious about him, and you kinda want him to do something else. But he squeezes the soft flesh of your shoulders, rolling a bit lower, to your back – and then lets go. You breath hitches as he takes a step back, clenching his hand as if fighting the urge to do something else. 

— We’ll meet again. 

You just nod, not sure if you want it or not. König makes a point to determine which apartment is yours based on the window placement and pay you a visit in his leave time. 

[wilcze-kudly]

I do find it annoying how a lot of Zutara fans tweak the character's stories, personalities and even the timelines to suit their own needs.

Once again, there's nothing wrong with fanon and headcanons, however if looking through the lense of canon, you're objectively wrong.

I ended up stumbling on a post from a Zutara shipper. (At this point I'm regretfully considering not following the tags for Zuko or Katara because I get way too much Zutara content lol) I'm not replying directly to her because I don't want this to turn into an argument, and I know she doesn't take criticism very well.

Ok, So let's break this down.

The character who was first out of the group to trust Zuko?

I'm quite sure this is referring to the scene in Ba Sing Se's caves. And yes, that is a very important scene. I think it's a very important scene preceeding Zuko's 'relapse'. It shows how he's matured during his time in Ba Sing Se and therefore it serves to add to our dismay when he joins Azula. I adore the fact that Zuko's journey to redemption is not linear, it certainly adds a lot to the character and shows us how his trauma affected him.

It's also a horrific moment for Katara. To have her worldview on Zuko and firebenders as a whole challenged, and then for it to go blowing up in her face. It rips open old wounds of her childhood. It refreshes her resentment of Zuko and the Fire Nation as a whole. It parallels the death of her mother when Aang dies due to Azula's lighting and she is unable to do anything about it. It places her back in that spot of helplessness. Even though she's grown up, even though she's a master waterbender, she still comes a hair's breadth to losing one of the most important people in her life.

No wonder she hated Zuko so much after this.

It's an important moment for both characters, but I wouldn't say it is that in a romantic sense. It's a sweet, hopeful moment that then turns absolutely horrific and visceral for both parties.

I could argue that there are other characters who could be given the title of 'first to trust Zuko'. Funnily, Appa being one of them lol.

But other characters trusting Zuko dovetails nicely into the next point.

The character who emotionally connects to Zuko?

Well, technically, I'd argue that most members of the Gaang connect emotionally on one level or another with him?

But I'd argue that Aang is the person Zuko connected with the most. Aang is Zuko's parallel. Aang is the first person to reach out to Zuko. Aang is the person who showed mercy to Zuko, multiple times. Aang is the person who valued Zuko's life, the life of someone whose whole life goal is to capture him.

This was also an incredibly important moment to Zuko. This is the thing he brings up when trying to convince the Gaang to let him join.

Zuko: Why aren't you saying anything? You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.

The character Zuko feels safest letting his guard down around?

It's Mai. Love her or hate her, her relationship with Zuko is incredibly important to him. Maiko isn't my favourite Zuko ship, in full honesty. But even platonically, Mai and Zuko are one another's reprieve from their respective shitty lives.

People often talk about Katara touching Zuko's scar while discussing healing his scar, however one could argue that she did so as a medical examination. Mai touching Zuko's scar is a casual thing, neither of them really make a big deal of it and that's the beauty of it.

I'm mainly talking out of my own personal experience, as someone with a huge amount of burn scars, but there is a world of difference between someone inspecting my scars like Katara did and simply accepting them as a part of me, like Mai does for Zuko.

With Mai, Zuko isn't the scarred banished prince, Ozai's son or Azula's brother. He's just Zuko. And they speak freely with one another, arguing like real people do. Often, being comfortable having arguments is actually a sign of being comfortable with one another.

The character who helps Zuko heal from his trauma?

Once again, this is a bit of a flawed question. By the end of the show, Zuko isn't even fully healed, in my opinion. He has made leaps and bounds on the road to recovery, but when he will truly heal if ever is yet to be seen.

Zuko's journey to recovery includes plenty of people. This includes Iroh, Aang, Song and Jin. People who show him the error of his coping mechanism. Who challenge his worldview, who coax him out of the his shell of pain and anger.

The character known for showing most compassion to others?

Yes, Katara's compassion is a huge part of her character. Her need to help and protect those who cannot do that for themselves cannot be understated.

But Aang's compassion for others and all beings is just as great, if not greater than Katara's. Compassion and nonviolence are huge parts of his culture and his own philosophy.

Aang: Wait, we can't just leave him here. Sokka: Sure we can. Let's go. Aang :No, if we leave him he'll die. Aang airbends himself off Appa and retrieves Zuko, bringing him to Appa. Sokka: [Sarcastically.] Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let's bring the guy who's constantly trying to kill us.

Friendly reminder that Aang could've absolutely wrecked Ozai, but held back because his own moral compass was so powerful. Hell, he was friendly and nice to Azula, the woman who literally killed him.

This is why Aang and Katara work so well together. They're both incredibly compassionate people who will immediately jump in to help others in need. Like they did during the Painted Lady, destroying the factiry together.

The character who primarily bears the burden of having to step up into a parental role?

I think "parental role" is an incredibly vague term. There's a lot of things that go into a "parental role". Katara plays a stereotypically "maternal" role, while someone who plays a "paternal" one would probably be Sokka.

Katara deals with very "homemaking" tasks like sewing and cooking, etc. And Sokka often takes on the role of leader, hunter, gatherer and also protector, despite being a nonbender.

This coincides nicely with their core childhood traumas. The loss of Katara's mother impacted her greatly, leading her to have to step up into a motherly role. While Sokka was clearly heavily traumatised by his father departing and the crushing responsibility of having to care for his entire village.

Sexism also probably played a part in this dichotomy.

The character who represses their emotions to be strong for others?

I'd argue that this could apply to all the members of the Gaang in some capacity.

Aang's pain is something most of us will never experience and cannot hope to understand. The complete horrific destruction of his culture and home followed him through the entire show. He was entitled to his grief and rage, yet he supressed it. We see during Appa's kidnapping, how easy it would be for Aang to rage, to let himself be destructive. And yet, he wakes up every day and chooses to smile and goof off, because his friends need someone to remind them how to be children.

Sokka puts on a very impressive bravado, despite having a lot of insecurities. However, as the oldest member of the Gaang (pre Zuko) he puts on a facade of the confident and unbothered older brother. Even if he's the butt of almost every joke, he still keeps that demeanour up, letting it slip only a few times.

I'd actually argue that Toph is the person whom this label fits best. While we know Toph as witty, callous and strong, we have to remember that she kept up the facade of her parents' good, helpless little blind girl for no reason other than her mother and father's comfort. She actually hides a lot of her hurt, covering it up with a prickly exterior.

I want to do longer think pieces about Toph and Katara so apologies if this isn't complete.

I'm actually baffled by the idea of Katara repressing her emotions. She's actually quite straightforward and open about her feelings. She yells and feels a lot of emotions and lets them be heard. She gets angry and sad. She's actually kinda bitchy sometimes and that's honestly why I love her so much.

The whole inciting incident of the show was her getting so pissed off she somehow pulls a giant iceberg from the bottom of the sea.

She is anything but repressed.

She is angry.

She's angry at the fire nation, at Sokka, at her father, at men, and with good right to be so.

This is what makes her an amazing character and one who broke the mould of a lot of female characters at the time. Her anger and unrestrained emotions rang true with a lot of watchers at the time. I'm not sure why this is being taken away from her rather than celebrated.

I reiterate the point I made at the beginning of this post: there is nothing wrong with headcanons and fanon interpretations for one's enjoyment. I do find it a bit odd when it changes a character too much (because then, why not just create an oc?) but it's all in good fun. However, you shouldn't push that onto other people and how they perceive canon and you certainly shouldn't use it to take away from other characters. It's a very unfair way of entering discourse.

[edenfenixblogs]

Shut up you genocide supporter

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

So, just to be clear, I made a post specifically explaining that I hear this phrase as a call for my death personally. I hear this phrase as a call for the death of all Jews to be murdered and denied burial and to be shoved into the sea and provided examples as of why. And I received this in my inbox less than a minute later.

I also explained explicitly that I believe Palestinian people have a right to use this phrase and reclaim it from terrorists who took it from them. I explained that my ultimate goal is peace for Palestinians and for Jews. I explained that I wish for Palestinians to live as full and equal citizens in their homeland. I explained that anything that does not contribute to this goal of peace is causing active harm to Jews as well as deepening the conflict going on right now.

Given that information, you chose to send me this.

So you want me to die? You want to kill me, a Jewish person who does not live in and has never been to Israel? You want to kill all Jews?

Hmmm…it sounds like only one of us actually supports genocide, and it sure isn’t me.

Next time you want to tell me that you want me dead and want to kill all Jewish people, you can just say that. There’s no need to pretend you’re helping Palestinians at the same time.

PS: to all the goyim who replied to my recent posts that they support Jews and abhor antisemitism—now would be a good time to show support.

Jews cannot continue to receive this kind of targeted harassment in the name of people who claim to support peace. Standing up to antisemitism means loudly and clearly denouncing this. And if you don’t do so, I’m just gonna assume you stand with @pata-hikari, who wants me dead.

I have made it abundantly clear that I don’t support the violent response to the 10/7 attacks. I have made it abundantly clear I want freedom and equality for Palestinians. It’s time for y’all to make it abundantly clear that you understand that this message was a death threat. That people are using a phrase coined to promote hope and peace and liberation to threaten (another) mass Jewish slaughter. Do you care about me or not? Stop fence sitting or choosing sides. Fight for peace or stop pretending to be my friend and ally. An ally doesn’t stand idly by while someone they claim to support gets death threats.

Again, I don’t want ANY violence. I don’t want anyone to attack this person. What I want is to stop having to deal with this shit every day. What I want is for people to be as loud in their opposition to antisemitism as they are for Palestinian self determination. What I want is to stop having to be regarded as a good guy or a bad guy. I just want to be a fucking person and I want PEACE ONLY.

[matan4il]

It's astounding to me that people can refer to the military campaign in Gaza in the terms that they do.

You wanna talk proportionality? Let's! Here's something to give you some proportions.

Over the course of just two days, on Mar 9 and 10, 1945, the Tokyo bombing led to an estimated 80,000 to 130,000 civilians dead. After just two days!

And we still don't call that a genocide, because we have a basic understanding that this term refers to the intention of one nation to completely destroy another, while the Americans were not set on killing every last Japanese. We can discuss whether such intense bombing of civilians was right, but there is no doubt that the goal wasn't a destruction of the entire Japanese nation.

According to Hamas' figure as reported on Nov 15, meaning after 40 days of fighting, the number of Palestinians killed in Gaza is 11,500.

When looking at this comparison, take into account that the population density of Tokyo in 1940 was about 1,337 people per square mile. The population density of Gaza City is (as reported by NBC on Oct 10) 15,000 people per square mile. So we can assume that if an army had indiscriminately bombed Gaza City the way Tokyo was, over the course of just two days, the death toll would have been even higher than the actual WWII one.

Hamas, as a genocidal terrorist organization, is NOT reliable in giving us the casualties, so its figure is likely inflated. It also doesn't distinguish civilians from terrorists (who are legitimate targets in this war), and it doesn't say how many Gazans were killed by Palestinian terrorists (whether due to the over 1,000 rockets that malfunctioned and fell inside Gaza, due to Hamas shooting civilians trying to evacuate to the south or due to terror tunnels collapsing because of the fighting, and killing the civilians who were living above).

And still!

Even if we accept Hamas' figure as is, and we pretend like every single one of the people killed is a civilian, meaning we decide that somehow the IDF has not managed to kill a single terrorist in 40 days of fighting (even though it has identified and published the names of some of the highest ranking Hamas terrorists it managed to eliminate, as well as terrorists identified as having participated in the Oct 7 massacre, and even though Hamas confirmed at least one), and we ignore the fatalities caused by Hamas and the Palestinian Islamic Jihad (PIJ) themselves, this does not amount to a genocide. It does not even amount to indiscriminate bombing.

Just to make it clear, this isn't meant to say that the death of civilians in Gaza isn't regrettable. Of course it is! This post is just meant to point out that many of the people talking about this online seem to NOT have any kind of clue what indiscriminate bombing, let alone a genocide, actually looks like.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[singingcicadas]

The beginning of the Decepticons according to Megatron:

The beginning of the Decepticons What Actually Happened:

That it could ever be called a revolution of the oppressed is a joke. Megatron's philosophy is purely pugno ergo sum. I fight, therefore I am. His first recruitment speech was a promise for power, made to the most bloodthirsty audience he could dig up from the dregs of society. Those people were there because they thrived off the bloodsport. They wanted audition to join Megatron in the pits. Megatron offered them something even better: turn the entire planet into our gladiatorial arena, and we take.

Ever since the beginning Megatron viewed the Decepticons as nothing but a tool, to be used and thrown away. He wanted them to be as ruthless as possible in order to wipe out all opposition, but once his end goal's achieved, well, there's no place for ruthlessness in a perfect society under his absolute control. Therefore, remodelling and recreating. It doesn't sound like he wants to rule over actual people with individual personalities, he wants a bunch of mindless drones programmed for obeisance and peace and hardcoded to Do What Megatron Says.

Ravage and Tarn. It's interesting how they both use the word "emancipated" when lauding Megatron's accomplishments, when it's clear that Megatron did so for the practical purpose of bulking up his army. He overthrew those in power because he wanted to be the one in power. The only one. The people he "emancipated" were just exchanging one set of shackles for another, as they had no choice other than to join the Decepticon army. Not fighting was not an option. Cowardice was punishable by traitor's wheel. Going neutral was also not an option. Soundwave had specific anti-neutral pogroms for those.

I wonder if they knew what "the Megatron they loved" had in mind for the Decepticons after they won the war. The remodeling and recreating. Or maybe they thought that's just for the lowly genericons. That they would be exempt from such treatment because they were confident of their privileged places at Megatron's side. After all, if you're rooting for someone whose motto is peace through tyranny, you'd do so with the expectation that it's only Other People who are going to get tyrannized.

It's true that he did rise against an oppressive government, despite it being the goal to replace it with himself as the tyrant.

But he also thought the single admirable quality about Zeta was his ruthlessness. As in trying to kill an entire city of his own people to fuel his vamparc ribbon. And he said that in front of Hot Rod, who was forced to bomb his own city to stop Zeta from winning. Even disregarding the twisted values here, this is still fifteen levels up the insensitivity lane. No wonder Hot Rod didn't want to join up.

Torture's for fun and domination. It takes a special kind of sadistic streak. And this is before the war even officially started.

Thundercracker's view on the Decepticon cause, when he defected to save humans from the nuke:

"Everything we have done here" - Just here? He'd either been living under a rock for the entirety of the war or has some serious misunderstandings about what the Decepticon name is.

Or just been willfully blind for four million years and the deaths of a hundred billion lifeforms until the day he decided to grow a conscience. Same with Soundwave.

Tarn's a really good case study because he's the poster boy of Megatron's Decepticon propaganda. Megatron probably spoonfeeds him the stuff by the gigabytes and he regurgitates them with twice the zeal and tenfold the pretentiousness. He's also the embodiment of the vices and tragedy of the Decepticons as a whole, as created by Megatron. A sadistic hypocrite, a glorified thug, a delusional fanatic, a customized tool for use and dispose. Crippled by the blinkering desire to be superior, to be part of a greater cause.

Megatron cares nothing for Tarn, just like how he cares nothing for the Decepticons. During the war they were a means to an end. After Megatron's defection, their "toxic loyalty" became a personal burden, a blemish from his past that he would like to cast aside and move on from but annoyingly refuse to leave him alone.

The road-sweepers and the haulers. The miners. What were they to Megatron during the war? Disposable cannon fodder. A pretty banner to hide behind. For a movement that likes to justify itself as a revolution of the oppressed, the emancipation of the disenfranchised, there's certainly a distinct lack of those classes among the upper Decepticon ranks. Megatron said in his recruitment speech that he wanted strength and power. Then where did that leave the weak and sick, the empties on the streets?

Nowhere but the smelting pool, to be recycled into something useful for the great Decepticon cause. They should be honoured, really.

Freedom fighters? No, freedom won't be missed. Probably has something to do with the remodelling and recreating part.

Starscream's only partially right. It was absolutely Megatron's intent to tap into that well of rage and resentment, and he meant for the riot to happen. Of course it got away from him in the end - that's what happens when you cobble an army out of bloodthirsty power-hungry degenerates, half of which were on board for the violence, half for their own scheming agendas, and the rest stitched together by charisma and fear - but he'd shaped the events enough to come a hairsbreadth away from winning multiple times. People like Shockwave and Scorponok were treacherous, but they weren't the reason that Megatron lost the war.

It was his own blind arrogance that led to his downfall.

No he didn't lose his way. He's exactly where he set himself out to be, from the moment he gave that speech in the arena. Perhaps even earlier, to that gradual slide when killing his opponent in a match no longer felt like a guilty burden but instead brought him the sweet rush of satisfaction. There was no revolution. There was no righteous cause. There was no for the people and never has been, because he did not care about other people. Four million years and countless deaths, and it was only really about one insanely self-centered person and his deluded ambition of peace through tyranny.

Hence his breakdown, because he'd just been hit in the face with the realization that he was Wrong. And has been wrong for the past four million years. He wasted everyone's lives. He wasted his own life, wasted it on anger and destruction and hatred, with nothing but regrets to show for it.

I believe that Megatron believed he's telling the truth here. I believe that he meant every word he said, except for that one "we" on the second last line.

Because that "we" should really be "me".

The Megatron who wrote about pacifist rhetoric, who was compassionate enough to share his fuel with the injured, who cared about others and had genuine friendships, that Megatron died a long time ago in the pits. Ever since then, every murder, every atrocity he'd committed in the name of "the people" was just facist rationalization.

I'm sure that he likes the sound of "emancipation of the people" or "freedom of choice" as a concept. But when it comes down to individual people? With actual, real choices that conflicts with his desire for absolute rule? Nope. He's the only one who should get to make choices. The only one who should have choices. Because he knows best.

Form dictates your function ❌; Megatron dictates your function ✅

Function dictates your fate ❌; Megatron dictates your fate ✅

Great minds must think alike, because Megatron and the Functionalist council in the Functionalist universe did a lot of the same stuff. Massacring the Senate. Recycling people who are deemed useless burdens. Remodelling and recreating. Imperalism and genociding organics. Killing all dissenters. The Functionalists even got pretty close to Megatron's ideal of peace through tyranny with 99% of the planet fitted with brain bombs and kissing the ground at their feet. They even managed to do it while maintaining a habitable planet and full population. And Megatron took one look and was disgusted.

Megatron wasn't a misunderstood revolutionist who had his heart in the right place when he started his war. The Decepticons didn't start out well-meaning and turned bad somewhere along the way. At no point in their movement were they ever true freedom fighters. They were always Facists, through and through. They were worse than the Functionalists they hated and the Senate they overthrew. And it's important to acknowledge this because (other than it's weird to see such an obvious Facist analogy being associated with freedom fighters) otherwise you don't get the whole depth of Megatron's redemption arc, especially in the Functionalist universe.

Like the impact of this scene wouldn't be fully apparant unless you take into account that when Megatron first formed the Decepticons, all he cared about was their fighting strength. He did not care about his troops, he did not care about individual people. He considered himself above everyone and everything. He would have sneered at such a weak, ineffective form of protest. Now he's actually being supportive and seeing people as people, instead of pawns to be used.

Here he's genuinely happy to see the Decepticons, even those in the very bottom of the pecking order, taking enough care to greet them each by name. And also Fulcrum, who he sentenced to death twice.

For once in his life he's actually trying to do the Right Thing instead of focusing on himself, either on his ambitions or his remorse. The people in the Functionalist universe have nothing to do with him, yet he wants to help anyway. And he's finally appreciating the value of self-determination for what it is, instead of trying to twist it to serve his own purposes or turn it into Megatron-determination.

"No one can decide how you live your life except for you." Back before, he was going to remodel his entire army to achieve his peace through tyranny. Autonomy and free will were considered things that won't be missed.

Megatron learned to care about other people! Peace through empathy is such a groundbreaking step for his character because he used to have no empathy! He stayed true to his ideals for eight centuries despite the hardships, despite his personal losses, despite the AVL being driven to near extinction and not knowing if he would ever return to his own universe. During all those years he could have had ten million chances and excuses to break his vow of pacifism or leave on the Last Light, taking the easy way out, and there would have been no one to stop him.

But he didn’t.

[whereisten]

To Be Forgiven

FT: Suguru Getou & Nanami Kento

Pairing: Suguru Getou x Nanami Kento x reader Genre/Themes: sMUT! Convent (nuns and priests), angst Warnings: Threesome - F/M/M, vampire priests, loss of virginity, praise kink, light BDSM (rope use, spanking) overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), rough sex, blood mention, gaslighting, devotion, voyeurism, degradation, dumbification, creampie, character death, vampire priests Word Count: 8.8k

A/N: WELL... this is probably the dirtiest thing i've ever written, and I know its not kpop or nct based so im sorry for that. It was HEAVILY inspired by these two posts: https://x.com/polariae/status/1722684591079673876?s=20 https://x.com/kimmy_art0912/status/1721731893622714594?s=20 (so please take a look to get a good image in your mind before you start reading hehe the artists are amazing) Also, this in no way is meant to offend Christianity or the world of Catholics, the theme is only used for fantasy. Sorry if it's a little messy, i just had to get it out of my system. Dont forget to leave a comment if you like it! Thank youuuu xoxo

Freedom felt good. That’s what you thought to yourself the moment you stepped off the bus and onto the new convent you’d be living the rest of your life in. You’d finished college, graduating as you set out to do and now came the next step: devoting your life to Christ. 

Your parents didn’t understand your desire to live this way, but they supported you nonetheless. With tearful eyes, they bid you farewell and swore to stay strong until the next time they’d see you.

You drag your luggage to your room and sit down on your bed, inhaling and exhaling the fresh air slowly. 

“Hi! You’re new here!” A woman dressed in her holy tunic stands in the middle of your open doorway, her hands placed in front of her as she smiles.

You smile back. “Oh..yes! I just got here actually.”

“That’s wonderful, welcome to our home, my name is Khadija and I hope I can help you at some point, my room is a few doors down if you ever need anything!” She waves as you nod. 

“Thank you, my name is Y/n.”

She nods as well and walks away.

A few days later, you’ve started speaking with other nuns in an effort to gain an understanding of how things normally operate. 

“At 8 A.M, we have breakfast together and then continue our studies in our assigned classrooms. Should you need anything, I am always here.” Sister Nancy, your neighbor, walks with you to breakfast. She guides you through the convent and provides helpful information.

While at breakfast you try to get to know her better. “How long have you lived here?”

“Hmmm…time has sort of..run away from me…” she looks puzzled as she stares at her bowl of oatmeal. Almost as if lost in thought, her voice trails off and eventually becomes silent.

“Sister Nancy?”

“Oh! Yes..about 5 years.” She nods and looks back up at you. Once at the end of your breakfast you stand up and bring your trays to the cafeteria where you can toss any trash.

“Sister Y/n..” Nancy says quietly while walking beside you.

“Yes?” You look at her curiously.

“I must tell you..when you study, when you learn how to best serve God here..please be wary..”

“I’m not sure what you mean..” your brows bunch together.

“Well..the priests here are great, devoted and caring..but there are some who..may not have good intentions.”

You place your trays down and walk together in the hall towards your rooms.

“Men of the cloth are always good, Sister Nancy, what do you mean by this?”

“They should be good..but they are not, be careful and stay steady in your faith, do not lose sight of your goal..”

She stops while you continue walking. 

“But Sister, who-?” You turn to look at her, but suddenly, she is gone, not even the breeze from her departure surrounds you.

You stare into the hall. “Sister Nancy?” You call out, but it is empty and eerily quiet. You turn back towards your room and bump into a large chest.

“Oh!”

You stumble backwards, but the tall, sturdy figure grabs your arms to hold you still.

“I am so sorry..”

You look up slowly. 

The man has long black hair, feline-like eyes and a tempting smile. You quickly look away and onto the floor as your mind starts to desire more than just this embrace.

He chuckles and it’s like angels have started to sing from heaven. “My apologies, I should’ve walked more carefully.”

He finally lets you go.

“You’re new here, right?” 

You look back up at him, a strand of hair gracing his beautiful face perfectly as he smiles. 

“Y-yes..I’m Sister Y/n..please forgive me for-“

“Ahh no need, Sister Y/n..please continue..my name is Suguru by the way, if you need anything, just let me know..” He steps to the side to let you pass, but never lets go of your wide eyes.

You wondered how such a young man could become a priest. He looked dark and mysterious, unlike any of the other priests you’d seen before.

[The Next Day]

You’re heading to your first class where you’ll be taught by Father Nanami. You sit down in your chair comfortably before looking around to see if you can find Khadija and Nancy. To your disappointment, they aren’t there.

Then, he walks in. The blonde man with small glasses makes your jaw drop. He is just as tall and young as Father Suguru, but he looks stern and serious.

He places his books down and looks around at the class. “Welcome, let us begin, please open your pages to the verse written on the board.”

He sounds just as strict as he looks, no “good morning” or “how are you?” He jumps straight into business.

He is also your personal counselor, but you aren’t sure if you’ll be visiting him often.

Later that day, you go apple picking with Sister Khadija. 

“Would you like to tell me of your life before you chose Christ?” Khadija asks, gently picking a ruby red apple from above her head.

“Sure! I was happy..I graduated college and felt I’d done it all..but somehow, I still felt empty. Then one day, I overheard a sermon on the radio..and I felt..I felt this urge, a calling, rather. I felt the need to participate in something much bigger than myself, and so I decided to devote my life to Him.”

Khadija smiles. “That’s very nice.”

“And what about you?”

“Oh..I..don’t quite remember, but yes, I did feel the calling as well.”

You nod slowly, then smile quickly to cover up your worry. How could she not remember?

“That’s great!”

As you’re walking back with baskets full of apples, you turn to her. “I didn’t see you in Father Nanami’s class today, do you have a class with another priest at that time?”

Khadija stops, dropping her basket as her eyes widen. “Wh-who’s class?”

You kneel down and begin to gather the apples that fell out. “Father Nanami..is everything okay, Khadija?”

She dips down to pick her basket up. “I’m sorry, Sister Y/n, how clumsy of me.”

“It’s okay! I-“

“But Y/n, Nanami is not a great instructor..I would recommend another professor..”

She looks into her eyes as your hands touch while reaching for the same apple.

You frown. “He seems to be very serious about his work, I feel I can learn a lot from him.” 

Khadija shakes her head. “He..is dangerous.”

You stand up straight and laugh. “Are his exams that bad? I figured he’d be a harsh teacher, but I look forward to the challenge!” You grip your basket and continue walking.

Khadija looks at you with a worried expression. She wished Nanami was a harsh grader, and nothing more, but unfortunately, this wasn’t the case.

[One Week Later]

You step into Nanami’s office to ask a quick question.

“Father Nanami-“

Suguru stands next to Nanami’s desk, flipping through one of his books before gazing up at you slowly. 

“Hello, Sister Y/n.”

You nod. “Hello! I’ll come by later.”

“Wait a moment, you can speak with me if you’d like.” He says smoothly before sitting in the chair.

“Oh..is Father Nanami not available today?”

Suguru smirks when he senses your unease. “He will be back in about an hour, what is it you’d like to ask him?”

“I-I’ll ask him tomorrow, it really is no problem.” You turn to leave, but he stops you.

“Are you enjoying your time here, Sister?”

He intertwines his fingers in front of him and places his chin on top.

You turn back to him and smile. “Yes..but to be honest with you, father, I’m not sure if I’m worthy to be here.”

He tilts his head slightly, a dark glimmer presents itself in his eyes..or are you just seeing things? “What makes you say that, Y/n?”

The absence of “Sister” from his sentence and the way your name rolls off his tongue makes you shudder, but the feeling quickly leaves you as you clear your throat.

You look to the floor. “I don’t know, it’s probably nothing more than nervousness.”

Suguru leans back. “Of course you are worthy, Y/n. Do not worry, Christ lives through you at all times.”

You look back up at him and return his smile. “Thank you, father.”

You leave and release a deep breath you'd been holding. Something about him made you..unsettled. You didn’t know why, but as you walk back to your room, you shake the feeling off, never noticing his eyes on you from the doorway.

A few weeks pass and you notice that you often see Father Nanami walking about the halls and chatting with other Priests or Nuns. Suguru is hardly ever around, but honestly, you didn’t mind it. The long-haired temptress reminded you of the sin that still resides in your heart. The sin of lust. You couldn’t deny it anymore, and it forced you to visit the chapel more often.

You could resolve this impure feeling if you just prayed and believed in your Lord.

Apart from that, your time at the convent was going well. You bonded with your Sisters, and learned from Father Nanami as well as your Bible.

Some nights, however, you wake up randomly with the doomed feeling of being watched. 

“Hello?” You say quietly as you turn your bedside lamp on and peer out into the corners of the room. There’s nothing, there’s no sound. You only hear your trembling breath. There’s a slight chill in the air and it makes you grip your blanket tightly. 

This would happen around the same time every night, but you brushed it off to you being nervous. After all, you’re in a new home, surely it would take some more time for you to get used to your new bed and room. You tried to brush off the thought that part of these strange occurrences had to do with your room being just a few feet away from a cemetery.

You couldn’t go back to sleep most nights so you’d stay up and read your Bible until the sun rose.

To make matters worse, you didn’t see Nancy or Khadija as often, you couldn’t talk to them about how your nights had been going.

[One Week Later]

You run into Father Suguru for the first time in a while. He was just leaving Father Nanami’s office when he collided with you while turning the corner.

“Oh!” He laughs, his smile causing his eyes to crinkle. Your heart weakens at the sight.

No. Remain firm.

“I am so sorry, Father Suguru.” You step back and bow slightly.

“It’s alright, Sister Y/n, how have you been doing? You look tired.” His smile falls when he notices how dark your eyes have gotten since the last time he’d seen you.

“Oh! Really?” You rub the side of your neck and look to the floor. “Is it that obvious?”

He nods. “What’s wrong? Are you having a difficult time here?”

You shake your head. “No..no it’s not that..it’s just-“

He steps closer, looking down on you intently with knitted brows.

“You see..I’ve been waking up…in the middle of the night..feeling strange.”

Suguru smiles slightly. “How so, Y/n?”

And once again, you felt anxious about his tendency to omit your title.

“It’s nothing, Father..I’ll be-“ movement behind him catches your eye. You see a nun now down the hall quickly.

Nancy.

“Sister Nancy! Wait!”

You call out, but she doesn’t stop.

You look back at Father Suguru. “I apologize, sir. I must be going.”

He nods and watches as you walk by him.

You run after Nancy who quickly turns a corner. “Wait!” You try to call after her again, but once you turn the corner, she’s gone.

Things were getting weird and you didn’t know why. The sudden disappearances, the disturbing stillness and chill at night, it all made you worried.

That night, you wake up as usual, but this time, you finally see a figure. You aren’t sure if you should feel relieved or frightened at the sight.

You turn your lamp on before turning back to her. “Sister..is everything okay?”

Sister Khadija stands at the foot of your bed with dark circles under her empty eyes. Her lips are gray and her hair is unkempt. You’d never seen her like this before.

“W-what’s wrong?” You sit up in your bed.

She only raises her hand and points to the window behind your headboard.

You stand up and look outside of it, but nothing is there, only darkness.

“Sister Khadija, what’s going-“ you turn back to look at her, but she’s gone.

Goosebumps engulf your skin as the room suddenly feels much colder. You open your door quickly to see if she has gone to her room, but no one is there.

You’re seeing things. You just need to sleep more, that’s all.

You close your door again and climb into bed. You clutch your blanket then reach for your Bible, praying that Sister Khadija is sleeping soundly in her room.

The next night, the same thing happens, but this time with Sister Nancy. 

“Nancy-“ you wipe your eyes and focus on her face.

“You have to leave.” She says softly then runs out of your room. 

You jump out of the bed and run after her, ignoring the fact that you’re inappropriately dressed in just your nightgown and running through the halls of the convent.

You run fast, trying hard to not lose her this time. You needed answers. Why were they both visiting you at night? What did she mean by “you have to leave?”

But after running for nearly 4 minutes, you finally lose sight of her. You stop and look around in hopes of figuring out which dark, gloomy hall you’re in. The walls are lit by candles, making it difficult to figure out, but you’re sure that you’ve never been in this particular corridor before.

*thump*

Your head flicks toward the end of the hall where a loud banging sound comes from.

You walk towards it and hear it again.

As you get closer, you also hear soft groans and whispers.

Your hand hovers over the door knob. Should you enter? What do you expect to see? Someone that could help you get back to your room?

Without much thought, you turn it and push the door open slowly.

Your eyes widen at the sight.

It’s Priest Suguru on a bed. 

You gasp. He’s tied up with thick rope and completely naked. His head hangs low as he watches a nun’s head move on his lower half.

“Slower..yes..just like that.” His intoxicating voice fills the room. You step back and the sound of your foot just barely dusting the wood causes his head to snap up.

You cover your mouth.

His eyes are red and glow in the dim lighting of the candle lit room.

But what’s even more frightening is the blood that drips from the corners of his mouth. His chest heaves as he smiles wickedly. You tremble at the sight of two large fangs in his smile. 

“Y/n…” he calls out softly to you. Your eyes refuse to leave his body. Your knees feel weak as a mixture of emotions flood you. Fear, confusion, lust- you become too overwhelmed to speak.

The Sister below him releases his dick from her mouth, causing a ‘pop’ sound to echo. She turns around to face you, her mouth drips with blood and her eyes glow as well. She wipes her mouth with her fist before standing up and walking towards the door. 

You stumble backwards, your eyes still focused on Suguru behind her.

And then, the door slams in your face.

You snap out of your gaze, feeling your body experience a shock unlike anything you’ve felt before. What did you just see? Was it real? No, you had to be dreaming. Suguru, a holy man, would never—

The gorgeous sounds of his moans fill your head.

“Stop!” You say to yourself as your eyes grow teary.

You start running away from the door. You had to find your room, you had to repent immediately. How could your lustful mind conjure up such a degrading image of a priest? You’re disgusting, you’re unworthy of the Lord.

You pray you can be forgiven for your sin, but the sudden wetness in between your legs tells you that it may be too late.

———

[One Week Later]

Fortunately, you hadn’t seen Suguru since that night. You still weren’t sure if you dreamt it or not, but you begged God every night that it wasn’t real. 

“Are you okay, Sister Y/n?” Father Nanami interrupts your thoughts. You look around the classroom to see you’re the only one still there.

“Oh! Yes, Father, I apologize..I’ll get going.”

“You look tired, get some sleep tonight.” He says before grabbing his briefcase and leaving.

“Yes, Father.”

That night, you tossed and turned. You had vivid dreams of the halls and the people you saw every day. Your dreams were more realistic  than ever before.

You then start to dream of that dreaded night..but there is something different.

You feel your wrists are tied to your head board, your legs are pulled apart by large hands as you wiggle on your bed. Your nipples are perky, peeking through your gown, and you can feel your slit leaking.

You look down and see him. His hair is tied up and his upper half is naked.

Suguru crawls over you slowly.

You moan when you see his low gaze on your body.

He lifts your gown up and kisses your stomach with his pillowy soft lips. He works himselfvall the way down to your entrance. You can feel his hot breath fanning it.

“Father..please.” You close your eyes tightly and beg, and with just the sound of this one desperate plea, Suguru licks in between your slit.

Your back arches instantly. 

Finally.

His mouth on you feels amazing, you can’t stop moving your hips in an effort to get more from him.

He grips your thighs tightly, pushing them even further apart to lick and suck all parks of you.

Your moans grow louder, your breathing becomes quicker, you’re so close.

He reaches up with one hand under your gown and caresses your breast.

“Look at me.” He demands.

You look down as he drapes your leg over his shoulder and licks at a faster pace.

You lock eyes with his red ones.

“Faster..faster..please..I need more.” You cry out.

And Suguru follows your commands all while watching you writhe under him.

And with one final flick of his devilish tongue, you cum.

Your eyes fly open, you jump out of your sleep while panting.

Another lustful dream.

How could you betray God like this? You can't control your urges, it’s becoming a distraction and a serious problem that needs to be dealt with.

You start to cry quietly and decide that it’s time to get help.

You get on your knees and begin to pray until the sun comes up for only God could banish these cravings and impure thoughts.

———

[The Next Day]

You visit Father Nanami after class.

“Hello..do you have a moment?”

“Yes, come in.”

You close the door behind you and sit in front of his desk.

“How can I help you, Sister Y/n?”

In your time at the convent, you’d never seen him smile, and you certainly didn’t expect to see it today.

He looks sternly at his laptop, awaiting your reply.

You swallow hard, where should you start?

“Father Nanami..I saw..Suguru the other night..he was..he was tied up and in a strange position and he…he was partaking in scandalous activities with another Sister..”

He stops typing and looks up at you over his screen.

“But father..the strangest thing of all is that his eyes were red and his mouth dripped with what I think was..blood..it was..it was terrifying.”

“And yet..you couldn’t look away..could you, Sister Y/n?”

Your eyes grow. Nanami saw right through you and instantly knew of your sins.

“Father..I’m so sorry, I must beg for forgiveness.”

He takes his glasses off and places them onto the desk. He shrugs. “Why?”

You’re confused. “Because..because I saw the devil and had impure thoughts, Father! I’ve sinned, I’m unworthy of being here.” You bring your hands to your face and start to sob in them.

“Shhhh..no need to cry, Y/n..simply beg for forgiveness and do as he says..”

You nod. “Yes, father, I will visit the chapel right away and live as God tells me to, I-“

Nanami chuckles. “No..no Y/n..beg him for forgiveness..”

“..him?” You look up slowly.

“Father Suguru is the one whose image your impure mind has desecrated without reason..surely, you don’t think what you saw was anything more than your lust taking form in a dream? You imagined Suguru as something completely opposite of who he is, and you need ask for his forgiveness as he is the human embodiment of God..we all are, isn’t that right, Y/n?”

“Oh..I see, I apologize for not understanding..I will go to him right away.”

Nanami nods. “Good girl.”

You look to the floor to not see his smirk. But you can feel it in his tone and it’s strange.

You go to Suguru’s office in the evening when everyone is leaving to prepare for bed.

“Father Suguru..?” you say softly, but feel worried as you stand in his doorway.

“Oh. Sister Y/n..it’s nice to see you.” He gives a sly smile.

You nod.

“Close the door.” He sets aside a few books and sits down.

Like before, you find it hard to get started, but know you must in order to become a better Christian.

“Father..I must confess and with this confession I hope that you will not change your perception of me..I-I hope you will forgive me and allow me to continue to grow in this establishment.”

“Sister Y/n..you don’t believe you are worthy of being here, so why should I believe it?”

Your mouth falls open.

A smug look crosses his face. “You’ve come here to ask for my forgiveness, but have you forgiven yourself?”

“Father..I-I don’t follow.”

“What is it you’d like me to forgive you for? For watching..for craving..for..wanting to not only feel the devil but to taste him as well?”

You step back and gasp. “Father! I would never-“

“Oh, Y/n..sure..I’ll forgive you, but I know that’s not the only thing you desire.” He stands behind his desk and holds his hands together in front of him, his grin never leaving his face.

“Father, I only wish to absolve myself of my sins and live purely. It is the goal that I-“

He waves his hand. “Sure..sure..but tell me Y/n..how did it feel?”

“H-how did “what” feel?”

He walks closer to you, making more and more hairs on the back of your neck raise with each step.

“The lust, the desire…the craving..”

“I-I don’t know..it felt..”

“Strange, right?” He smiles widely.

”I’ll forgive you if you’ll allow yourself to indulge in your fantasies tonight.”

“No!” You back away from him.

“My dear Y/n..these thoughts will only go away if you give in for just a moment.”

“So what I saw the other night..was real?”

“It’s as real as you want it to be, Y/n. Tell me..do you want to feel what it’s like to be tied up and at the mercy of another?”

You tremble.

“Hands can roam along your skin, press into your thighs and collect the slick building in between your slit..fingers part it to allow way for my tongue to taste you and draw out your long withheld moans. But I won't stop, not until you’ve really felt me inside, making you the perfect size for me, pushing every breath out of your body. Not until our bodies become one and you’ve cried out to God for release.”

“Father..” you breathe heavily, his lips just inches from yours.

“And with your hands tied behind you, you’ll have no choice but to bounce on me until I’ve said I forgive you..even if it takes all night..you’re mine to control. In every position, in every hour..we’ll gain a brief moment in heaven together..only then can your sins be absolved.”

You swallow hard.

“You watched the devil and you liked what you saw..are you ready to fuck him too?”

Suguru’s eyes become a deep shade of red.

“How can you say such obscene things? What are you?” You stare into his eyes.

“A servant of God..of course…but I’m also the one that can make you feel so..so good.” he places a hand on your neck and tilts his head.

“But you..you’re..”

“Yes..Y/n..go on..say it.” His eyes follow your lips.

“A demon..”

He chuckles and his eyes float downwards. “And you’re as wet as you were that night..so shall we?”

“How can you..live in the house of God?” You look up with wide eyes.

Suguru lifts one corner of his mouth. “You see..I use my abilities for good Y/n..just one night and I shall remove the impurities from your blood, would you like me to?”

You hesitantly nod. He takes you into his arms and cranes down to your neck.

You grunt at the sudden move.

He then digs into your neck, causing you to yelp, your head falls back over his shoulder. The pain quickly turns into a pleasurable feeling as he sucks your blood. Your body relaxes in his arms. He pulls away and tilts your chin toward his to kiss you deeply. It’s your first kiss, so he leads you into it, caressing your lips slowly, mixing your spit with your blood. 

Your eyes close as you feel his tongue dance over your bottom lip. You relax more and more into his arms and embrace the feeling of his broad chest against your back.

He pulls away and looks into your eyes. “Do you wish to feel more? Do you wish to indulge your sins and be absolved of them thereafter?”

You nod, feeling your willingness to leave dissipate after his kiss. He smiles. 

“Very good, Y/n.” He says before sucking again.

He takes you to a room lit with only candles.

He carefully removes your head cover and dress, then pulls his rope out from a closet. 

He ties your hands behind your back, and continues to create intricate patterns across your body, making sure to kiss you every now and then. His cold fingers brush against your skin, sparking fires.

You feel vulnerable, but follow his every move and command as you kneel on the bed.

He removes his collar and lets his holy robe drop to the floor. You stare at his magnificent body causing him to laugh out. “The lust in your eyes is delicious” he puts his hair up in a bun, but a part of you wishes he’d let it stay down so you could run your hands through it.

You turn away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry father, I-“

He turns your face back to his and continues to kiss you. When he pulls away he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “Are you ready?” 

You nod.

He lays down under you, fixes his face between your thighs and begins to eat you out as you cry out his name. 

With his hands on your ass, he forces you to move back and forth onto his face. Your ankles are tied to the same rope that binds your wrists, forcing you to stay open.

“Father!” You cry out when you feel the tip of his nose rub against you. You rock your hips back and forth on your own. 

More, you need more. That’s all you can think as his tongue explores you.

He groans against you, sending amazing vibrations through you.

“So sweet..your scent has driven me insane since you first stepped foot inside this convent..”

He groans and begins to buck his hips into his own cuffed hand.

He can’t wait to feel you around him, he can’t wait to drain you as you tremble and lose it all to him.

Suguru sucks your clit harder at the thought.

You yell out at the unexpected action and move faster.

Just then, Nanami walks in and stands at the end of the bed to watch.

“You really are trying to let God hear..”

You jump up and look at him, but Suguru digs his fingertips into your thighs to keep you still.

“Father Nanami! Please..forgive me.” You shut your eyes tightly, holding back your tears while cumming all over Suguru’s mouth.

Nanami palms himself through his jeans.

The casual look suits him very well, but you’re still embarrassed to let him see you like this.

He walks over to you, caressing your face with one hand and zipping his pants down with the other. “Shhh..open your mouth and all will be forgiven.” 

He rubs his thumb along your bottom lip, gently pushing downward.

You do as he says, doing your best to fit all of him into your mouth. Laying your tongue out underneath it, you push forward and taste the saltiness from the precum leaking out.

Suguru kneels beside you on the bed and watches.

“Yes, good girl, you follow instructions so well.” Nanami removes his collar and shirt now too.

You choke slightly after feeling him hit the back of your throat, but you keep going, bobbing slowly as your spit builds.

Suguru now licks your nipples, eventually biting into one and sucking your blood once more. You groan from the pain, sending vibrations onto Nanami who grunts and curses. 

He puts a hand to the back of your head and begins to thrust into you. Tears prick the ends of your eyes, you can barely breathe. If your hands were free, you’d use them to cover a few inches. If you could talk, you’d tell him to be gentler on you. But you take it all, knowing that you’d be forgiven if you bring both men satisfaction.

You moan as you feel your throat become raw.

“She’s being such a good girl..” Suguru smiles wickedly before licking up the blood around your wound.

Nanami finally releases along the bottom of your throat, choking you as tears fall onto your cheeks and your eyes become red.  You wish he’d tell you you were a good girl, but the stoic man simply says “Swallow.” And looks down on you through laser eyes.

You do as he says, swallowing every drop and hoping that it will somehow purify your soul like holy water or wine.

He pulls out. “Ahh good girl..” he finally smiles, using his thumb to collect the spit that escaped and putting it back into your mouth. Suguru kisses you to taste yourself as well as Nanami. Nanami caresses his hair and your head as well.

“Am I forgiven, father?” You look up at him with wide eyes.

He looks down at your breasts and neck, aching to bite into you so he can grow hard again.

Suguru then kneels in front of you and begins to cup his hand around his member. The tip is red and dripping with precum, you stare but Nanami grabs your hair to pull your neck back.

“There’s so much greed and lust in your eyes, you’ll have to do much more than that to gain forgiveness.”

He pushes you down so you now face Suguru’s member. 

“Open that filthy mouth of yours again.”

Nanami kneels on the bed behind you and begins to eat you out.

His tongue is lighter than Suguru’s, just applying kitten licks, but that somehow makes it hotter. You can’t help but move more in an effort to get closer to his lips.

Meanwhile, Suguru’s head falls back as you take him into your mouth. 

He isn’t as patient as Nanami thrusts into you while groaning, causing a yelp to escape you. Your throat, still raw and irritated from being pounded into by Nanami, still closes around him well. He whimpers and places his hand onto the back of your head.

Nanami adds his fingers to open you up more and you throw your head back. “Father!”

“So wet and pretty..this tight pussy of yours needs to be made ready.” 

He pushes in and out faster. You pull away from Suguru as Nanami’s fingers stretch you out.

“Slower, Father..please!”

“Focus on me, Y/n. It’s my forgiveness you should be seeking.” Suguru takes your chin in his hand and forces you to look back at him.

Nanami bites into your thigh, sucking harder and faster. You’re shocked to see that Nanami is the same as Suguru, but your focus shifts to the amazing feeling of being sucked from the area closest to your opening.

You quiver and clench around his fingers before moving up and down on them on your own.

Your moans send vibrations onto Suguru, and combined with the sight of your ass being up, he quickly cums in your mouth, leaving you a crying mess as he forces your head down. You choke while feeling the strings hit the very back of your throat once again.

You cum along with him, Nanami continuously pressing into a sweet spot. It feels too good to explain, but you know you’re too sensitive for more.

When he pulls out, you flick your head back to Nanami who continues to finger you.

“Father! I can't take any more.” You beg Nanami to leave your aching opening be.

You collapse into the bed and pant. Suguru laughs 

“We’re just getting started sweetheart. You’re ours tonight, then you’ll be God’s forever.” He says as he ties a collar around your neck. He then unties the rope around your legs. He hands the leash to Nanami who sits against the headboard. He tugs you back, wasting no time to grab your thighs and spread you apart over his lap. 

He forces you down onto him as you face Suguru. Suguru smiles again then flicks a thumb against your nipple.

In one move Nanami starts to enter you, causing you to squeal and attempt to run from the penetrative object , but he is just too strong. 

“You know it’s her first time, be gentle, Father.” Suguru chuckles.

Nanami tugs your collar hard, “how could I forget? This pussy is reserved for God, isn’t it? the blood will be even sweeter if I go harder, don’t you think?”

“Hmm only one way to find out.”

Nanami pulls you down hard, burying everything inside you at once. You lift yourself up while in tears, but he grabs you again.

“Where are you going? You have work to do..take me in as you take God into your heart.” He smirks. “This is the Godly dick you’ve been craving, isn’t it?”

“T-too much, Father Nanami, I can’t take it.” Heated skin against heated skin, fingertips digging into your skin to leave a permanent impression and the way you can’t stop dripping for them, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You should feel shame, but you don’t.

“Tsk tsk..you need to prove yourself worthy, Sister Y/n..need I remind you of why?”

You shake your head, tears leaving your eyes as you are stretched out. “It’s my first time, father, I do not know-“

“Just relax and move..”

His hands are stable on the inside of both knees. He begins to bring you up and down onto him. “Yes..just like that.”

You’re wide open for Suguru to see, with just rope around your body. You should feel embarrassed, but there’s something building in the depths of your stomach.

Suguru looks you up and down and sucks your neck as you move. His large hands rest inside your knees to help you move up and down. 

Nanami’s hand reaches around your waist, his fingertips part your folds and rub circles into your clit. 

It feels amazing, you moan louder and bounce faster. “Father! I’m..I’m going to—“

“Yes, sweetheart, cum for me…”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, you want to stay still as you feel your climax rush over you, but Nanami continues to thrust into you.

Suguru releases and begins to touch himself again. “Ahh you taste so good.”

“Does she? Let me try.” Nanami pulls your collar, forcing your neck backwards. He bites in hard, still bringing you up and down on his member.

You whimper at the feeling, but shake soon after, cumming twice with just a few seconds between. You feel dizzy, you might pass out. But you also don’t want the men to stop. 

Nanami keeps moving as you cry out, your head falling back even more.

You move faster to get his orgasm, he pushes you forward once he's done sucking, kneeling behind you to rail you from behind.

You feel the collar tighten as he pushes harder, forcing your face down into the bed.

“You should feel shame for cumming before me, the holiest servant of God, what makes you think you are higher than me?”

He pushes even harder, making you cry out loudly. “I’m so sorry, father! I didn’t mean to!” You turn your face to the side to breathe.

Nanami spanks your ass hard, causing a breath to leave you and you clench around him.

“All the more reason for this exorcism to take all night, isn’t that right Y/n?” Suguru looks at your strained arms, feeling himself grow unbearably hard with your sweet blood still on his tongue.

“Yes, father, I will do whatever you wish me to!”

Nanami pulls the collar and spanks your ass again. You grunt and close your eyes, you can’t stop clenching around him.

“More father..please, I deserve this.”

A snicker escapes him and spanks you repeatedly as he fucks into you hard, leaving you gasping for air with each thrust.

Suguru kneels beside him and watches while touching himself.

“I’m going to cum inside you, if you let a drop escape, you will have disappointed God. Do you understand?”

You nod. “Yes father. I will keep you in.” You squeal.

He holds your warm ass onto his pelvis as he cums deep inside you.

“Fuck..so fucking good.” Nanami curses while listening to your whimpers.

He then pulls out and leans down to make out with you. You’re enraptured by his aggressive kiss, it’s as if he wants to take every breath out of you.

Suguru licks up the blood that trickles down your leg and moans. “You were right, Nanami. It’s sweeter than the apples and berries outside.”

Nanami pulls away, watching the string of spit that connected your lips drop onto your chin.

“Then she’s ready for you. You’re welcome.”

Suguru laughs then wastes no more time to enter you.

“Suguru!” You cry out, hoping that he’d give you a moment to recover, but he only laughs harder.

“Come on, Y/n, you’re supposed to be ready for me.”

You cry into the sheets, but Nanami lays under you. He hugs your upper body tightly as Suguru fucks you just as hard as he did.  

He sucks your neck, his fangs digging into another vein to pull out your impurities.

Your opening is silky and easy to move in, so it doesn’t take long for Suguru to cum again. 

“Ah-ah…father!” You climax with him, seeing stars while Nanami drains you.

Suguru pushes everything inside you as well, cursing as he watches you clench around nothing and shake. 

Nanami slides out from under you and leaves the bed. You pant and roll over onto your back, hoping that you’d finally be forgiven and welcome into the convent after tonight.

Suguru unties your rope, allowing your body to be free.

However, he can’t get enough of your blood, sucking your wrist while you gather your sanity.

Nanami then pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jeans pocket. He sits 

 on the bed with his back on the headboard.

“Ride my thigh, sweetheart.” 

You shakily get on your knees and put your hands together in a prayer position.

“Father..please grant me forgiveness..”

He blows smoke into the air and smiles. “It wasn’t a question. Come over here.”

You do as he says, crawling over his impressively muscular thigh and grinding against it. He watches you through half lidded eyes and the sight makes you clench. Something about his disheveled blonde hair and the cigarettes he presses in between his swollen peachy lips makes it all hotter.

Suguru lays down beside him and smokes his cigarette as well. “Look at her, a whore that thinks she will be absolved of her sins.” Suguru chuckles.

“In all my 300-something years of life I’ve never pitied anyone more.” Nanami takes a drag.

You continue to move back and forth, but a sense of worry crosses you. “Father..I..what must I do?” You whine.

Nanami looks down at his hard member, having grown quickly since drinking your blood. 

You hurriedly move over it and grasp it in your hands. You may have grabbed it a little too hard as Nanami grunts. “Careful, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You carefully align it with your opening, but you’re too nervous to bring it any closer.

Nanami hands the cigarette to Suguru. He swats your hand away and grabs your waist, pulling you onto him with ease. You whimper, trembling as you adjust to his large size once more.

Your hands find his broad shoulders. 

You begin to bounce slowly. “Is it good, sir? Can you forgive me?” It’s a genuine question but you can’t help but feel ridiculous after hearing the desperation in your tone.

Nanami’s eyes are focused on the way your bitten breasts move. Your velvety pussy glides onto him easily, but he needs more. More of your blood, more of your essence.

He flips you over onto your back and sucks your right breast as he fucks into you hard, moving the entire bed as you squeal. 

“Too big!” You cry out after his animalistic move. He pounds into you without hesitation. Not caring if anyone heard the lewd sounds created by his thighs hitting yours, or the creaking bed hitting the wall repeatedly. The rush of your blood flowing from your tender breast and into his mouth as well as the sight of the muscular man in between your bender, sweaty legs makes you quiver.

“Now this!” thrust “..is how you take dick, Sister Y/n.” He smirks, pounding hard again. 

“Oh God!” Your head falls back as you are stretched out. It’s painful, but you cannot escape Nanami. He sucks your breast and places one hand around your throat. 

Your nails dig into his back as he drives you crazy. 

“Yes, Y/n, tell God how good your sins feel.” He pushes harder. 

You shake your head. “It is wrong to feel this good while sinning.” Your tears flow in a steady stream, you feel as though he may just rip you in two.

“Says who?” He grins wickedly. 

Your mouth falls open, you don’t know what to believe anymore.

He stops moving, you look down with furrowed brows. “Do you want me to stop, Y/n?” The corner of his lip tilts up slightly as he already knows your answer.

“No-no, Father, please contin- Ah!”

Before you can even finish, he’s back inside your depths again, molding your pussy around him like he will forever own it.

“Open your mouth wider Y/n..” Suguru takes the cigarette out of his mouth and kneels beside your head, pushing his member into your mouth.

He enters your mouth, thrusting in just as deep as he did before. You gag and Nanami smiles. “I much rather hear you gagging like this.”

Suguru smokes nonchalantly as you are ruined by both of them. You feel open and raw, your mind is mush and you are beyond sensitive. Your hips hurt from being open and your arms hurt from being bound before, but somehow you feel amazing.

They both watch you lose your innocence, your purity, and are happy to be at the center of it all. The sorrowful look on your face as you do anything for forgiveness, your eyes wet with tears and your mouth open, chin covered in a mix of spit and their cum drives them both crazy. There is nothing on your mind except how to please them and yourself.

“Cum with me, let us enjoy this moment together.” Nanami squeezes his hand around your throat then rubs your clit with his fingertips again and you both cum. 

Your voice becomes hoarse from yelling out their names all night. You press onto his abs as your eyes roll. Suguru pulls out to watch your wet lips overflow with a mixture of cum and spit.

“You fucked her stupid, Nanami.” Suguru giggles.

Nanami pulls out of you quickly before taking the cigarette from him.

“She’s even cuter now, isn’t she, Suguru?”

He sits back and watches as Suguru flips you over and grabs your leash, pulling your neck back as he fucks you from behind like a wild animal, moving so fast, all you feel is a vibration against your sweet spot.

“Mhmm our cute slut..don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take care of you. Just keep gripping me..fuck..that’s my girl.”

He pushes in and pulls out completely, watching as his dick drips with so much slick.

Nanami blows smoke out and leans back. “Ask the slut a few questions, see if she even knows her own name.”

Suguru pushes back in. 

“Think you can just dream of these things and be forgiven, sweetheart?”

“Yes, father.” You grip the sheets beside your head, feeling as though you may lose consciousness at any moment. But the way Suguru makes you feel is too good to miss. You hope you can climax with him just one more time. Your body needs him, your pussy needs him.

“How badly do you want to be forgiven, will you please us all night long, is this pussy ours?”

“Yes, father.”

“You’re good at obeying, aren’t you?”

“Yes..father.”

“If you keep yourself from cumming, you’ll be forgiven, how does that sound?”

Your eyes widen, you look back at him and shake your head. “Sir..I don’t know if I can-“

He thrusts harder and pulls back.

“What was that?”

He leans over you, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

“Obey..me..Y/n..or spend an eternity in hell.”

“Yes..father I will obey you!”

And this would’ve been possible had his fingers not been playing with your clit, you’re in tears as you try to hold back.

You feel his sweaty abs flex against your back, you hear his low and loud groans.

His hot breath fans the back of your neck.

You can’t possibly hold back.

Then, he bites into you, sucking your neck, drawing out blood to cause even more pleasure. “Father! Please! No more! If you do, I’ll-“

He moves his fingertips faster. 

You cum and shake, unable to hold yourself back. Suguru laughs and cums as well, holding your ass fast against his hips.

“Ahh I guess we’ll just have to keep going until she proves she is worthy of forgiveness, Father Suguru.” Nanami smiles.

Suguru falls back onto the pillow while Nanami drags you by the waist and down into the bed beside him.

You hang your head low in embarrassment. 

“Why so sad Y/n? We’ve got all night to absolve your sins.” Nanami says as he enters your sopping entrance once more. Suguru lights another cigarette and blows the smoke into your face before kissing you and fondling your breasts.

“Fa-“

“Huh?” He thrusts into you from behind. “Can’t hear you..”

“Father-“ you go weak, your eyes closing tightly as you are overstimulated.

Nanami holds you close, thrusting into your weak body while he chases another high.

“Yeah..sound it out, baby.” He chuckles lowly into your ear.

He bites into your shoulder, not caring just how much blood they’ve taken from you tonight, only caring for the euphoric feeling that comes from it. Blood rushes into his mouth and straight to his dick every time, the ecstatic feeling is just as good..maybe even better than an orgasm.

He moves his fingers onto your clit and you let out a high pitched moan.

You cum again with him, this time ruining the sheets, but he only touches your chin covered in drool. 

“Good girl..”

Suguru drags you back over his lap, “Move pretty girl..don’t disappoint God..again.”

He angles you over his dick and slides you down.

You move up and down onto him despite being so tired you might pass out.

Suguru only drags a smoke and hands it to Nanami as they both watch your tired body bounce, your fucked out face, swollen breasts and neck riddled with bite marks.

“Tell us how good it feels.”

“So good..father.” Your hands run down his chest, caressing the soft bricks under his skin. 

“Is that why you can’t stop cumming like a slut?”

“Yes father.” Your head falls back, you move faster, the building in the pit of your stomach grows.

“Are you gonna cum again for me?”

“Yes father”

“Beg for it.”

“Let me cum with you father!”

“Why?”

“I wish to rid myself of sin with you.” 

He can’t help but laugh.

“Please father, I need you.”

“Of course, Y/n.” He grabs your wrist, sucking hard while still watching your breasts move.

You both climax hard, shaking while still being attached.

You lay down in between them, feeling Suguru’s lips on yours and his fingers inside you, pumping in and out as you squirm from the oversensitivity. 

You try to close your legs but Nanami forces them apart by placing them on the outside of his strong hands. 

“Tell God how good you feel.” Nanami bites into your thigh and sucks as Suguru bites into your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “So good..” The combination of the two along with Suguru’s long fingers makes you cum so hard you black out.

——

[The Next Morning]

You’re back in your room with your nightgown on.

“What happened..was it real?” You rub your eyes and turn to sit on the edge of your bed.

You feel your body, but don’t feel any bite marks. You don’t feel any difference in your private area either.

“Oh..it was just a dream.” You hang your head low and look to the floor, you then see two feet as someone stands just in front of you. Your head flicks up. “Sister Khadija?” 

She wears her nightgown and displays a sad expression. She was the same one who pointed outside that one night, but you never did see her again.

“I told you..” she points outside the window again. You turn to look, “told me what?”

You turn back to her, but she is gone again.

You get up and look outside the window, trying hard to see what she is pointing to. The cemetery that you always prayed over before going to sleep looked the same as always, except..there was a freshly dug grave.

You run outside and decide to look at the headstones and sure enough, the names of the two Sisters you met are there. 

Nancy and Khadija. 

They've been dead..for 5 years. 

“No..no this can’t be true.”

You stumble back, tripping over a pile of dirt and falling to the ground. When you look at the headstone behind you that the dirt has been dug from, you see your name.

Khadija appears. “Sister Y/n..they killed you, just as they killed us and now you are here forever..” she tears up as she watches you cry.

“No..no that can’t be true, they helped me purify my soul, I am good, I am worthy now.”

She shakes her head. “Sister Y/n..a night with the devil will not absolve you of your sins…you know this..”

You look to the ground.

“But..but why did they-“

“No, Sister, the question is why did you?”

Suguru and Nanami fed on your body until you dried out, leaving you for dead, and now..this is your hell.

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) pt 3

here we are, the long-awaited (it was literally like 1 day) part 3!! i wanted to declare on one of the actual chapters since those get seen by the most people that I DID NOT MAKE THIS AU, credit i believe goes to @azulsluver. i swear i don't hate you guys, leaving everything on a cliffhanger, but the good news is i have a lot of time on my hands due to chronic illness so i can update super often. also i gave up on the purple theme on posts bc tumblr hates me and always leaves the end of the word count black.

part 1 part 2

genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, mild yandere (will be escalating throughout the series, but no non-con) word count: 1246

You couldn’t really afford to space out and think about it though, not when he was right in front of you. Riddle tapped his foot impatiently, clearly irate at your lack of response. “Well?” He asked. “Do you not even have anything to say in your defense?”

Oh dear. However were you supposed to get rid of him when he was so intent on getting some sort of answer out of you? You had no idea what he wanted! He was more difficult to threaten, too, since you’d made up your mind that you didn’t want to be like your tormentors and completely ruin others’ lives. No, your end goal was just to make them leave you alone. After everything you’d been through, you really didn’t want to see them again.

It might seem strange to some people, that you weren’t dead set on destroying any semblance of normalcy they once had. You had all the ammunition you needed, of course. The Overblot victims would be the easiest to topple, considering what they’d done in and leading up to that state. But you didn’t think you were a particularly vengeful person; at least, you didn’t want to be. Crowley had always said that you must’ve been sent here to get his precious students to work together, so clearly you weren’t like them.

“I never asked for this, Riddle. Any of this. So if you think somewhere in your fucked-up mentality that you’re doing me some sort of favor, you’re dead wrong,” you intoned. Indeed, even though you just wanted them gone, you missed the days when you were all friends. Back when you thought everyone had your back no matter what. Oh, if only you knew what they’d do for you. It wouldn’t be hard at all to push some of the more unstable students over the edge. Those who felt they didn’t have anyone else. Much like a certain dragon fae who never did seem to get invited to things.

Riddle looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, he was drenched by a great torrential rain. Where did that come from? Didn’t the forecast say it was supposed to be clear skies and sunny for the rest of the week? Your question was soon answered, as you had two more visitors.

“Silver? Sebek? What brings you here?” You inquired, not at all amused. When those two showed up at the same time, it could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t good. Riddle looked like he had caught on as well, since he stepped in front of you, as if that would do any good.

“LORD MALLEUS REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE!!” Sebek boomed. You’d made progress on his volume in the past, so you were sure he did it just to annoy you. Silver just stared. He always stared, you felt like. Sometimes you swore you could feel his eyes on you even when he was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, gee, I wonder what that’s about,” you snarked. “Poor little princey-poo doesn’t want his embarrassing little secrets getting out? Well you can tell him to fuck off.” You must’ve been feeling especially brave, since normally you knew that defying Malleus Draconia was as good as a death sentence. He wasn’t even that bad, compared to some of the others. He just… locked you in his room and made you listen to him talk, with no room to get a word in edgewise. He’d go on and on about one thing or another for HOURS, with no regard for your schedule or your bodily needs. Clearly fae had a different sense of time than most.

It was the loss of control over your own life that you hated; that, and that if he really still considered you a friend, he never bothered to do anything about your bullies. You knew he was more than capable; you’d witnessed his strength firsthand on multiple occasions. You didn’t know what his endgame was, and frankly you were too scared to find out. He could trap you there forever and you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it.

Sebek was not amused. He raised an arm, likely to strike you, but Silver placed a hand on it, effectively stopping him. “Don’t. You wouldn’t want Lord Malleus to see a bruise on them,” he reasoned. You didn’t get it. Since when would he care? Sebek roughly shoved Riddle out of the way, despite all his objections, and nonchalantly slung you over his shoulder.

“What the hell?!” You screeched, pounding your fists on his back. “Put me down! I’m not going!” You weren’t sure why you were objecting so vehemently; this time wasn’t any different than the others. But something about the dark gray clouds pouring rain on what should’ve been a lovely day just told you that this was not going to be good.

But alas, your plight was ignored. The three of you made your way to Diasomnia in silence. No one bothered to stop and stare in the halls, as you being carried off by people was somewhat of a normal occurrence. You could swear Savannahclaw and Diasomnia even had some sort of twisted capture-the-flag game going, for whatever reason.

When you entered the gothic-style castle, you were greeted by none other than Lilia. Much like Malleus, he’d never bothered you too terribly, only engaging in less-than-welcome pranks. You knew he was far older than he let on, so you supposed he didn’t see the point in such childish endeavors. There was, however, one thing you feared about the man: his cooking, which he tried to shove down your throat at every opportunity. How Silver grew up healthy you’d never know.

And so, of course, you were greeted by a plate of… well, goop, to put it nicely. “Here, have a seat, dear, I made lasagna,” Lilia offered with what you assumed was supposed to be a warm smile. To you in that moment, with the fumes starting to reach your nose, it looked like a shit-eating grin.

“I’ll pass, thanks. That is to say, I’d rather die than eat that shit, because it looks and smells like it’ll send me straight to hell,” you deadpanned. Sebek let out an unholy screech and started ranting about how dare you refuse Lord Lilia, even though you knew he wouldn’t want to eat it either. You did your best to tune him out. Silver looked relieved, surprisingly enough. You supposed he was able to empathize since he grew up eating the stuff.

Luckily for you, Lilia just sighed and walked off, taking his culinary abomination with him. The three of you who remained shared a look. “How are you still alive after all these years?” You asked Silver. He shrugged. If even he didn’t know, you’d just call it a miracle.

“SILVER, QUIT FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY! LORD MALLEUS IS WAITING!” Sebek practically screamed in your ear. You really wished he would stop doing that. But you had more important things to worry about, like your impending death by dragon fae. Once you arrived at Malleus’s room, Sebek set you down and pushed you inside. You heard the lock click behind you. You gulped, feeling the pressure of being alone in a room with a presumably angry and very powerful mage. You looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes staring you down. Oh boy, this was not going to be fun.

taglist: @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx

[calisources]

𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐃   𝐎𝐅   𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒   𝐀𝐍𝐃   𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒   𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.   all   sentences   have   been   taken   from   the   hunger   games:   the   ballad   of   songbirds   and   snakes   book   and   some   from   the   movie   trailers.   might   include   spoilers   for   the   movie   and   book.   change   pronouns   and   locations   and   names   as   you   see   fit.

“Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping.”

“Being from the Capitol doesn’t give you that right. Nothing does.”

“Well, as they said, it's not over until the mockingjay sings.”

“People aren’t so bad, really, It’s what the world does to them.”

“That is the thing with giving your heart. You never wait for someone to ask. You hold it out and hope they want it.”

“Snow lands on top.”

“I think there’s a natural goodness built into human beings. You know when you’ve stepped across the line into evil, and it’s your life’s challenge to try and stay on the right side of that line.”

“Before need, before love, came trust.”

“And try not to look down on people who had to choose between death and disgrace.”

“What are lies but attempts to conceal some sort of weakness?”

“The strain of being a full-fledged adult every day had grown tiresome.”

“You can blame it on the circumstances, the environment, but you made the choices you made, no one else.”

“Wars are won by heads not hearts.”

“There is a point to everything or nothing at all, depending on your worldview.”

“You're mine and I'm yours. It's written in the stars.”

“But better off sad than dead.”

“What young brains lack in experience they sometimes make up for in idealism. Nothing seems impossible to them.”

“I think it’s more important than love. I mean, I love all kinds of things I don’t trust.”

“I’m planning to build a whole new beautiful life here. One where, in my own small way, I can make the world a better place.”

“If the war’s impossible to end, then we have to control it indefinitely. Just as we do now.”

“What was there to aspire to once wealth, fame, and power had been eliminated? Was the goal of survival further survival and nothing more?”

“They were both after all, still children whose lives were dictated by powers above them.”

“Star-crossed lovers meeting their fate.”

“I’m bad news, all right.”

“The ability to control things. Yes, that was what he’d loved best of all.”

“What happened in the arena? That’s humanity undressed. The tributes. And you, too.”

How quickly civilization disappears. All your fine manners, education, family background, everything you pride yourself on, stripped away in the blink of an eye, revealing everything you actually are.”

“A boy with a club who beats another boy to death. That’s mankind in its natural state”

“Please, Coriolanus, I would never forget the favor.”

“Who are human beings? Because who we are determines the type of governing we need.”

“What sort of agreement is necessary if we’re to live in peace? What sort of social contract is required for survival?”

“It’s just the kind of story that catches fire.”

“And last but least, District Twelve girl . . . she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

“Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains.”

“If history teaches you anything, it’s how to make the unwilling comply.”

“You know what I won’t miss? People. Except for a handful. They’re mostly awful, if you think about it.”

“And to erase me, they must erase the Games.”

“Why did these people think that all they needed to start a rebellion was anger?”

“And if even the most innocent among us turn into killers in the Hunger Games, what does that say? That our essential nature is violent.”

“It's the things we love most, that destroy us.”

“We all did things we’re not proud of.”

“What are the Hunger Games for?”

"If you want to protect people, then it's essential to accept what human beings are and what it takes to control them."

“Hope is the only thing stronger than fear."

“If the cause wasn’t honorable, how could it be an honor to participate in it?”

“He’s a Capitol boy and clearly I got the cake with the cream, ’cause nobody else’s mentor even bothered to show up to welcome them.”

“To dine with her suggests that you consider her your equal. But she isn’t.”

“The endless dance with hunger had defined his life.”

"In nature, things that are prey, that are weak, are marked"

"The world is not kind to those who don't fit in"

"We all wear masquerades in this Capitol"

, "There's a price for everything, Lucy. Sometimes you pay it willingly, sometimes it's taken from you,"

"Freedom is not given, it is taken"

“I’m not convinced that we are all as inherently violent as you say, but it takes very little to bring the beast to the surface, at least under the cover of darkness.”

[chiqelatasblog]

Can I request imagine: Bi Han fell in love with Shang Tsung's daughter; unlike her father she is gentle and soft spoken and thanks to her father she mastered soul magic takes place when Shang Tsung captured Bi Han and Kuai Liang please?

Um… Well… This imagine turned into a whole one-shot. I'll try to shorten it in the future. I realized that I can't write short fic.🥲

Fates Intertwined ♾️

-> Ao3 link is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub - Zero x You

Tropes : Major Character Injury, Blood and Injury, Near Death Experiences, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Strangers to Lovers, Protectiveness, Possessive Behavior, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence , Intimacy

Summary : Bi-Han, gravely wounded during a mission, finds himself lost in the uncharted territory of Outworld. As he teeters on the brink of death, he awakens in an unfamiliar home. There a woman, a master of soul magic, emerges into his life, her presence calming and gentle as she tends to Bi-Han's injuries. Drawn to her unexpectedly, Bi-Han finds himself experiencing feelings he never had before.

However, little does he know, his savior harbors a secret...

Author’s Note : This is the first request I’ve ever received, I didn’t get any notifications about it so I found it on accident actually. Anyway I’m kind of excited to share it, it’s over 8k (I got away with feelings.) Hope it lived up to expectations! 💕

.

.

.

He was on the brink of death.

Bi-Han felt the specter of death looming closer than ever before as he dragged his battered body through the uncharted terrain of Outworld. While he had faced dangerous situations in the past, none had brought him as precariously close to the brink as this one. With every step, he pressed a hand against his stomach, where a gaping wound on his right side oozed blood, a portion of it torn away. His vision dimmed gradually, like a flickering lamp nearing its end, his breathing ragged, his steps unsteady. Despite having accomplished his mission, he snarled with what little strength remained, enraged that his slight lapse in caution would cost him his life.

Each step grew more arduous, his coordination failing as darkness encroached upon his sight. Unable to discern what obstacles tripped him amidst the dimming landscape, he collapsed heavily onto the ground. The wound, incessantly bleeding with each convulsion of his body, sent tremors of agony coursing through him, threatening to shatter his teeth as he gritted them in pain.

Struggling to roll onto his side, Bi-Han expelled the soil that had invaded his mouth and smeared his lips, laboring to draw oxygen into his weakened lungs. Above, the sky darkened, with the moon and stars emerging while clouds gathered ominously, presaging the impending rain. It was a grim realization that in this barren, lifeless landscape, he would meet his end alone—a consequence of his arrogance and overconfidence in his abilities. Dry and lifeless plants dotted the cracked earth, while rocks and pebbles stretched as far as the eye could see, with no sign of a river or any semblance of life.

Death had never been a fear for him, he was raised with the understanding that every moment could be his last. Memories raced through his mind like fragments of a shattered mirror; his training, the teachings of his clan, and the faces of those he had loved and lost along the way. Amidst the pain, a sense of regret gnawed at him, whispering of unfinished business and promises left unfulfilled. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a resolute determination surged within him, a steadfast refusal to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume him. While the frustration and ambition of leaving his goals unfinished weighed heavily, he found a measure of peace in knowing that Kuai Liang would capably assume the mantle of grandmaster and safeguard the clan.

As he drew a deep breath, a fit of coughing wracked him, the bitter taste of blood filling his mouth. Turning his head to the side to avoid suffocation, he surrendered to a numbing sensation that dulled his senses from head to toe.

Finally, unable to stave off the encroaching darkness any longer, his eyes, barely able to remain open, fluttered closed.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

The first sensation that washed over him was a soothing warmth, cocooning him like a comforting embrace. Blinking open his eyes, Bi-Han found himself lying atop a soft surface, the faint scent of clean soap wafting around him. In the distance, he could hear a soft female voice humming a kind of melody, accompanied by the clinking of plates and dishes. Struggling to lift his heavy eyelids, he squinted at the wooden ceiling above him, its rough texture illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight casting dancing shadows across the room.

‘’The hell?’’

His words emerged hoarsely from his parched throat. As he attempted to sit up, the covers slipped off, landing on his lap, and a sharp pain shot through his side where the wound lay. Clenching his hand over the bandages wrapped around his abdomen, he felt the fabric instead of his usual cold skin. The bandages appeared freshly changed, but his right side had already begun to bleed anew due to his carelessness.

With a muttered curse, Bi-Han glanced around the room, his body tensing as footsteps approached. Instinctively, he summoned an ice kunai into his hand, a simple gesture that now felt exhausting under the circumstances. Just as the figure drew near, he leveled the weapon with a silent threat.

‘’I didn’t go through all this trouble just for you to kill me,’’ admonished a soft female voice. ‘’Besides, I’ve just changed those bandages, and now I’ll have to do it all over again. Why are you still sitting? You need to lay down.’’

Bi-Han’s surprise was tinged with suspicion. Was this woman blind? How could she not have noticed the sharp kunai in his hand? Moreover, she appeared unarmed, leaving herself defenseless against him. His anger flared at the implication that he was underestimated. Even injured, he was still a lethal force to be reckoned with.

‘’Do you intend to worsen the bleeding?’’ she continued calmly, stepping closer but maintaining a cautious distance. ‘‘I am not a threat to you. My name is (y/n). I found you and brought you to my home for treatment. You’ve been here for three days. If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn’t have bothered bringing you back from the brink.’’

Bi-Han’s gaze softened slightly as he absorbed her words. Despite his initial hostility, there was something about her demeanor that suggested genuine concern. Yet, he remained wary, his mind racing with questions and suspicions.

‘’Why?” growled Bi-Han through clenched teeth, his gaze sharp as he eyed the young woman standing before him.

The woman blinked in surprise at the question. “I don’t understand.”

“Why did you save me?”

“Because you were dying,” she replied innocently, taking another step toward him. “Now, will you let go of what you have and let me help you?”

“I can take care of myself,” Bi-Han insisted, trying not to be swayed by the woman’s gentle aura as he moved to stand up, wary of her true intentions. The woman’s expression clouded with worry.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Don’t interfere—Fuck.” Despite his attempt to rise, sharp pain lanced through Bi-Han’s body, threatening to overwhelm him. Just as he felt himself faltering, a soft body caught him, careful to avoid his wound. A sweet scent enveloped him—cinnamon and vanilla—intoxicatingly sweet, like fresh-baked buns.

Relaxing involuntarily, Bi-Han allowed the woman to guide him back onto the bed, his resistance waning. She had a point—if she wanted him dead, she wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to keep him alive for three days, despite being a total stranger.

“I have to open the bandages and check your stitches. I’m afraid they may have burst.”

“I’ll take care of it myself,” Bi-Han retorted, refusing to show weakness or dependence.

“Why won’t you let me help you?” The woman’s voice softened, her gentle demeanor tugging at something within Bi-Han. Though he remained silent, she sighed deeply. “I have a light touch and am quite fast, you can trust me. If I happen to hurt you, you can also treat your wounds. I just want to assist and ease your suffering, especially since you’re badly wounded. Oh and besides that, I made some stew. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Bi-Han scrutinized (y/n) for the first time since waking, assessing her body language and facial expressions. As an assassin, he rarely misjudged people. Despite his initial wariness, he sensed a purity and compassion within her that he couldn’t ignore. The subtle tilt of her head and the warmth in her eyes felt genuine. Even though he couldn’t fathom why she would go to such lengths to heal a dangerous person like him, knowing he could easily harm her without breaking a sweat, he found himself appreciating her compassion. Yet, alongside his gratitude, a twinge of annoyance gnawed at him, stemming from her apparent blindness to the danger he inherently posed.

With a resigned grunt, he relented, allowing her to tend to him as she saw fit, though a part of him remained on guard, ready to react at the slightest sign of threat.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

A week had passed since his return from the brink of death, and four days since he had awakened in your home. In that time, while his wound had begun to heal rapidly, his movements remained slow and restricted. Returning to his clan without a full recovery would only be self-torment, risking undoing the healing process with his own hands. And also, you were stubborn about it, showing no inclination to let him go until he was fully restored to health.

As absurd as the situation seemed to Bi-Han, it also warmed him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Despite his injuries, he was an assassin and the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei—capable of neutralizing any threat that crossed his path. But you posed no threat; instead, you cared for him with remarkable dedication, as if welcoming a normal person into your home rather than a man with lethal abilities. Day by day, Bi-Han found himself lowering his guard against you, a sensation he struggled to control.

During the first night, while you slept, he scrutinized every corner of your house, finding no weapons or defenses. There was nothing you could have done to protect yourself from him. Trained from an early age to turn disadvantage into advantage, Bi-Han realized that this was not the case here. You harbored no ulterior motives; your only intention was to help him.

With the house being small and his movement limited by his wound, Bi-Han had ample time to observe and learn about you. Spending time together, he discovered your extraordinary ability to heal and revive him using soul magic—a gift passed down from your father. Bi-Han refrained from prying into your past, respecting the boundaries you set. He knew only what you chose to share—that your father was a merchant who often left for months at a time with his caravan.

Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, barely able to fit two people, Bi-Han assessed his unkempt appearance. His normally well-kept hair hung loose, difficult to manage due to his injury, cascading down his neck to his chest. A scruffy beard obscured his chin, his pale skin accentuated by dark circles under his eyes. Running a hand through his hair, he muttered to himself, ‘‘I need to shave… And I definitely need a damn shower.’’

‘’Did you say something?’’ Bi-Han looked at you inquisitively from the bathroom door, wondering how long you had been standing there watching him. Your cheeks flushed a sweet shade of red as you realized you had been caught. ‘’Well, the door was open, so—I thought, um… do you need something? I heard you talking to yourself,’’ you said, trying to regain your composure quickly.

‘‘I need to take a shower, and I also need to trim my beard. It itches.’’

‘’Oh, sure. The towels are right there.’’ you replied, entering the room and retrieving the towels from the wooden closet under the sink. As you spoke, you kept busy, avoiding his gaze. ‘‘It’s better if your wound doesn’t get wet for a while longer. I can give you a cloth to wipe your body, and I can help with your hair. If you want, of course.’’ Though you added the last part hastily, your avoidance of his gaze didn’t go unnoticed by Bi-Han, who couldn’t help but smirk slightly.

It was evident from your demeanor that you held an interest in him—your actions were transparent and sincere. What intrigued Bi-Han even more was that he also found himself drawn to you. For the first time in a long while, there was no need for him to be on guard, and your presence offered an unexpected reprieve from his usual responsibilities. You brought him more comfort than anyone had before, your dedication focused on helping rather than brute force, and you effortlessly dismantled the walls he had built around himself. It was a mystery to Bi-Han how you managed to achieve this in such a short time, but your presence had a calming effect on him.

‘’Do whatever you want.’’ Bi-Han said, beginning to undress. Your eyes widened in alarm at his actions.

‘’W-What are you doing?’’

‘’I will wipe my body as you said. Since you’re so helpful, maybe you’d like to assist me with that too?’’ Bi-Han lowered his voice, locking eyes with you as he took pleasure in the crimson blush that spread across your face. He didn’t fully understand this newfound calmness and playful demeanor within himself, but he felt compelled to act this way around you. You weren’t under his command or a threat to be eliminated; instead, you were the reason he was still alive. Though he was reluctant to admit it, he owed you his life.

Your response was stuttered and unclear as you hurriedly left the bathroom as if it were on fire. ‘’Just call out to me when you’re finished. And don’t forget to wrap a towel around yourself,’’ you called out from behind the door.

Bi-Han carefully placed his clothes in a corner to keep them dry, then settled onto the edge of the bathtub, ensuring not to disturb his bandages. Using the cloth you provided, he began to cleanse the dirt and grime from his body, avoiding the area of his wound. Minutes later, when the water ran clear, he wrapped one of the towels around his waist and called out to you.

Opening the door cautiously, you peeked inside to confirm that he was following your instructions. Seeing him with the towel wrapped around his waist, you entered the room and closed the door behind you. “Sit on the edge of the bathtub and lean your head back,” you instructed in a gentle tone. As Bi-Han complied, you adjusted the water temperature for a few seconds until it reached the desired level. Letting out a small murmur of approval, you turned your attention to him, holding a shower cap in your hand.

As your eyes met, your cheeks flushed once again, and you quickly averted your gaze to his hair. Clearing your throat with a small cough, you began to wet his hair, ensuring the water stayed away from his face. Bi-Han watched your every move with keen interest, finding pleasure in your innocence and sincerity.

“Does the water feel too hot?” you asked, breaking the silence.

A small grunt escaped Bi-Han’s lips. “I’m a cryomancer; water temperature doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. It’s not every day I meet someone like you. I thought cryomancers were just a myth,” your fingers hesitating slightly as you untangled his hair. Emboldened by his lack of reaction, you continued to work, carefully removing the knots with practiced hands. “Your hair is very beautiful.” you said in a low, soft voice that could be considered shy.

“It’s just black,” Bi-Han replied.

“It’s not just black; it’s like onyx, especially when it’s wet. I’ve never seen such dark black hair before. It suits you.” As you determined that his hair was sufficiently wet, you picked up a shampoo that smelled of sugary flowers and squeezed a generous amount into your hand. “I’m sorry, this is all I have. I hope it’s not a problem.” you said, your voice tinged with apology.

‘’It’s better than dirt,” Bi-Han remarked in a dry voice. Though he had no desire to smell like a flower garden, he also acknowledged that he didn’t have a better option. As your fingers began to massage his scalp, Bi-Han was taken aback by how pleasant it felt. Your deft fingers worked circles on his scalp, lathering the shampoo, and Bi-Han found himself relaxing in waves of relief, melting like ice rapidly thawing. The warmth in the bathroom, the gentle touch… it was almost overwhelming, especially given how skilled your fingers were at their task.

“You might want to close your eyes, I wouldn’t want the shampoo to run into them by accident.” You said, breaking him out of the trance he hadn’t even realized he had slipped into. Once again, Bi-Han was surprised at how low his guard was around you. He had stopped seeing you as a threat some time ago, but he couldn’t comprehend how easily he let down the automatic defenses he had cultivated over many years.

Closing his eyes, Bi-Han waited for you to rinse the shampoo from his hair. After washing for a while, you reached for the towel in the corner to help him dry off.

“Okay, you can stand up, we’re done.” you announced.

Bi-Han stood up quickly, stretching his neck, which had grown stiff from being in the same position for so long, before turning his gaze to you. With your cheeks flushed from the warmth of the bathroom, your clothes splattered with water drops, and your skin glowing from the moisture, you appeared vulnerable and innocent enough to make his chest ache.

Raised in a clan of ruthless assassins where survival and flawless execution of death were paramount, Bi-Han had always imagined the woman who would enter his life as strong, tough, with sharp eyes and an authoritarian nature to adapt to his lifestyle. Yet, looking at you, he began to question this assumption for the first time. You possessed a nurturing side that defied brute force, completely opposite to his expectations, and Bi-Han found himself unexpectedly drawn to this contrast. You were good to him.

“Bi-Han… You’ve been staring at me for a while. Is everything okay?” you asked.

“I want to kiss you.” Bi-Han blurted out suddenly. The words escaped his lips so spontaneously that he was as surprised as you were. Though he could have easily taken you in his arms and kissed you, he wanted your consent, to hear from your lips if you desired it as much as he did. You were the last person he wanted to intimidate or use force on.

As your eyes widened in astonishment, a loud “What?” escaped your lips.

‘’You heard me.” Bi-Han said sharply. Your cheeks flushed to the tips of your ears, the color he liked to see. Approving him in a soft, almost shy voice, your gaze drifted to the ground.

Finally hearing the answer he desired, Bi-Han growled and gently raised your head with his fingers grasping the tip of your chin. He connected his lips with yours, driven by a voracious appetite. This hunger was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, possessing a fiery intensity that shook him to his core. It wasn’t until he kissed you that he realized the depth of his feelings; he could have kissed your lips, as soft and tender as rose petals, for hours, sating an inner thirst he hadn’t known existed.

His hand traced the line of your jaw, capturing the back of your head and part of your neck. Placing his other hand on the curve of your waist, he gently squeezed the soft flesh, eliciting a small, breathless moan from your lips. Your voice, trembling like a whip of flame, ignited a dangerous fire within Bi-Han.

There was a unique taste to you, one that defined you completely. It was clean, like dewdrops forming on leaves in the morning spring, and wet as he slid his tongue between your parted lips. Another small moan escaped you as you placed your hands on his shoulders, your thumbs massaging the veins that began to appear on his neck. Bi-Han found himself hating the bathtub that stood as a barrier between them, longing to bridge the distance between you.

‘’Hold on tight.” He growled savagely, his lips pouring forth a mixture of desire and intensity. With your flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, and breathless look, you embodied a dangerous blend of innocence and allure, a presence that could emerge on the wettest of nights. As you tightened your grip on his shoulders in response to his command, Bi-Han effortlessly lifted you from the bathtub, as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Bi-Han! Your wound–” you began, concern lacing your voice.

“I’m fine.” Bi-Han cut you off, dismissing any objections as he instructed you to wrap your legs around his waist. He captured your lips again, this time with a fierce hunger that left little room for gentleness. Despite his intentions to proceed slowly and remain in control, you made it nearly impossible with your presence alone. Your scent, your soft skin, your delicate movements – they all acted as an irresistible spell, unraveling Bi-Han’s logic and common sense piece by piece.

Drops of water from his wet hair trailed down your cheek, then your neck, as Bi-Han followed their path with his tongue. He paused at the curve of your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth.

“You don’t even know how bad I want you. Now.” he declared in a voice thick with desire, his need palpable. Tilting his head slightly, he took your earlobe between his teeth, exerting just enough pressure to send a shiver down your spine. “Can I have you?”

You trembled in his arms, pressing your body against his, and buried your head in the curve of his neck, your voice barely above a whisper, the soft cadence of your affirmation barely audible against his skin.

“Yes. Ah, to—to bed… Let’s go to bed.” you murmured, your voice filled with anticipation.

Responding to your command, Bi-Han carried you swiftly into the bedroom, stealing kisses and caressing your soft flesh which filled perfectly in his palms along the way. As he carefully placed you on the bed, he ensured not to overwhelm you with his weight. With one knee positioned between your legs and applying small pressure to your aching core, he felt your breath quicken, your legs parting slightly, inviting him closer.

“Bi-Han, please… hurry,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. Despite not yet fully engaging in intimacy, you were already consumed by desire, your surrender evident in every trembling breath and pleading glance. Bi-Han found himself entranced by the unique blend of your naivety and charm, a combination both intoxicating and heady. It puzzled him how you could exude such innocence while also igniting a fire within him, a sensation he found both captivating and bewildering.

With every inhibition shattered, Bi-Han’s entire being was consumed by you. His mind echoed with a commanding voice, declaring possession. ‘Mine. You are mine.’ With each beat of his heart, the intensity of his desire deepened, enveloping him in a whirlwind of need. His arousal surged with a newfound fervor, driving him to seek you with an urgency he had never known before. He longed to lose himself in your warmth, to leave an indelible mark on you, claiming you as his own in a way that no other could satisfy you again.

‘‘Fuck. I wanted to take it slow,” Bi-Han cursed, his voice filled with frustration.

“Another time,” you replied swiftly. “I want you, Bi-Han. I need you… just… please.” As your attempts to form coherent sentences faltered, you resorted to expressing your desires through your eyes, tears clung to your lashes, your need laid bare for him to see. Despite the flush that colored your face, neck, your chest peeking through your clothes, your timidity had been replaced by a raw, unbridled desire.

“Another time.” Bi-Han echoed your words, his tone laced with determination. It was a promise, a vow to indulge in the intoxicating taste of you until every inch of your body bore his mark. The thought had transformed into a primal need, a longing to possess you completely.

With swift motions, Bi-Han stripped away your clothes, discarding them haphazardly. As predicted, your chest also completely flushed dark, your nipples hardening under his gaze, pleading for his touch.

“You are such a sight… so beautiful,” Bi-Han murmured, his words tinged with reverence. You squirmed under his attention, somewhat embrassed by his words and attempted to cover yourself clumsily. As he untied the towel from his waist, he fixed you with a stern gaze. “Don’t you dare hide anything from me. This is not a request.”

When his cold fingers made contact with the intimate area between your legs, you flinched at the sudden chill. Instead of recoiling, however, you parted your legs, wordlessly inviting him closer. Bi-Han found himself drawn to this decadent aspect of you, contrasting with your usual demeanor. You were slick with arousal, your warmth enveloping his cold touch until it reached a semblance of normalcy.

“Next time, I will explore you slowly, savoring every moment,” he declared, his voice brooking no argument.

And so he did.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Another two weeks slipped by, each day marked by the steady healing of his wound and the gradual return of his strength. Strangely, Bi-Han found himself not minding the passing of time, a stark contrast from his usual restlessness. Even though his days were now filled with the singular purpose of recuperation, he couldn’t bring himself to feel bored in your company.

You had established a routine of caring for him in the house. Every morning, after sharing breakfast together, you diligently tended to his wound, changing bandages with meticulous care. Despite his stature, Bi-Han appreciated the gentleness with which you handled him, as if afraid to cause him any discomfort.

Following this, Bi-Han would retreat outdoors to meditate or exercise, while you busied yourself with tending to the garden and other household chores. Occasionally, you would venture to the market, a task Bi-Han offered to take over multiple times, only to be politely declined by you each time. He sensed a trace of anxiety in your eyes whenever you left, as though fearing his departure in your absence.

The reality of his impending departure weighed heavily on Bi-Han. Though duty called him back to his clan and responsibilities, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you behind. The bond between you had grown deeper with each passing day, surpassing even the connections he shared with his own brothers. You had a remarkable ability to understand him without words, a skill few others possessed.

In your presence, Bi-Han found himself rediscovering aspects of himself long buried beneath the facade of his assassin persona. With you, he experienced a sense of comfort and peace he hadn’t known in years. Every touch, every embrace left him yearning for more, a relentless desire burning within him. He marveled at the intensity of his feelings for you, realizing that he wanted every part of you in a way he had never imagined possible.

His favorite time of the day was undoubtedly dinner. Sitting across from you, sharing simple conversations, witnessing your smile, hearing your laughter, and seeing your eyes light up brought him joy. It was a simplicity he hadn’t experienced since becoming the grandmaster. Once disciplined, strict, and focused solely on responsibilities, he now found value in these moments, offering him a new perspective on life.

As both of you sat facing each other at dinner, Bi-Han decided it was time to address the lingering topic that had hung in the air for some time.

“You mentioned you could remove my stitches in a few days, after that I’ll return to Earthrealm.” He stated firmly. Though he disliked seeing the smile on your face fade, you both knew he couldn’t remain cocooned in this sanctuary forever.

“Oh… So you’ve decided on the day.” You responded, averting your gaze as you spoke. When you reached for your wine, Bi-Han gently grasped your hand, halting your movement.

“I want you to come with me.” he declared.

Your eyes widened with surprise. “To your clan? Really?”

“Yes, I want you to see where I live.” Bi-Han lifted your wrist, his touch still gentle as he grazed his index finger against your skin, all while maintaining unbroken eye contact. “I wasn’t joking when I said you were mine.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly as a sweet laugh escaped your lips, a sound Bi-Han found irresistible. In that moment, he realized his attachment to you ran deeper than he had ever realized.

“You know, I’m not an item that you can take wherever you want.”

“I didn’t mean it in that sense.” His gaze shifted to the dozen bruises on your neck, a satisfied curl tugging at the corner of his lip. Each mark filled him with a sense of ownership, igniting a fire within him every time he saw them.

“Then it’s only fair that I should say that you are also mine.” you countered. Despite your brave demeanor, your face betrayed your true feelings once again. As you took a sip from your glass, attempting to hide your expression, Bi-Han watched you silently, a smile playing on his lips, hidden only by his hand resting on his chin.

As Bi-Han grappled with the conflicting desires pulling at his heartstrings — duty to his clan and the burgeoning attachment to you — a storm of emotions raged within him. The weight of responsibility tugged relentlessly, reminding him of the obligations he bore as the leader of the clan. However, a shadow began to loom over his resolve, stirring a longing for something more.

“I’d love to,’’ you finally said after a moment. ‘‘But I have to wait for my father’s return; I don’t know when he will come here.’’

“You can leave a note.”

“I’d rather talk it over with him face to face,” you insisted politely. “But I can come to visit from time to time. If it’s convenient for you, of course, I’d love to see where you grew up and spend time there.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

It had been five months since Bi-Han returned to his clan, and everything was just as he had left it. Kuai Liang had managed the clan well in his absence, with the assistance of Tomas and Sektor, although Bi-Han knew his brother was downplaying his own contributions. Despite the slight age difference between them, Kuai Liang was more than capable of assuming the role of grandmaster.

There was considerable curiosity among the clan members about his prolonged absence and the circumstances surrounding it. Tomas, in particular, had been concerned for his well-being the most. During a briefing with the council members, consisting solely of his inner circle, Bi-Han provided a summary of what happened, including mentioning you and your remarkable abilities. The news of your impending visit piqued the interest of everyone present, even if they attempted to conceal it.

Although you could only visit twice in five months, you effortlessly bonded with his brothers. Even with Sektor and Cyrax, you made it easy to connect, your kind soul evident in your demeanor and smile. It felt as though you had always been a member of the clan, your presence comforting and familiar to everyone. During conversations, you repeatedly expressed feeling comfortable and safe around them. This, coupled with the unique way you contributed to Bi-Han’s recovery, swiftly earned you the respect of the entire clan.

When you did visit, Bi-Han found solace and peace in holding you in his arms once more. In your absence, he had been on edge, constantly worrying about your well-being. Your presence felt like a breath of fresh air, infusing color and vibrancy into his otherwise monotonous existence. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with you, but your influence had been undeniable from the moment he first laid eyes on you. The desire to keep you close, to protect you at all costs, consumed him, even though he knew the realities of their lives would make it challenging. Being separated from you had taken a toll on his nerves, leaving him irritable and restless. Amidst the tumultuous whirlwind of his thoughts, Bi-Han grappled with the overwhelming desire to see you again.

The last time you visited, you stayed for a while. One night, in particular, is etched clearly in Bi-Han’s mind. A fierce wind howled outside, causing the windows to rattle, while snow fell rapidly, swirling in the storm and clinging to the glass surfaces. Except for the candles flickering in the room, there was no other light, casting a dim glow. The scent of both of you enveloped the room like a heavy blanket.

After bringing you to climax multiple times, your body glowed with vitality like a pearl, cheeks flushed dark with a serene smile adorning your face. Half of your body draped over him, your elegant fingers traced lazy circles on his bare chest, while Bi-Han’s hand caressed the smooth skin of your back. In that moment, he felt complete, as if a part of him that he didn’t even know was missing had been found. It was as if you were both separate individuals yet inexplicably intertwined—each completing the other.

When your fingers ceased their movement altogether, Bi-Han glanced down to see why, his heart swelling with warmth. You had drifted off to sleep, your face relaxed in slumber, lips slightly parted. You appeared so peaceful that Bi-Han couldn’t bring himself to disturb you. This wasn’t the first time you had fallen asleep beside him, and each time, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and a burning desire to protect you. He knew you trusted him enough to reveal your vulnerability in these moments.

His mind was more at ease than ever before. Even though he was in his own home, with you beside him, he felt a sense of belonging that he had never experienced before. Especially during the times he awaited your arrival, he had never felt such intense longing to see someone again—your presence shaking his very core, pushing the limits of his endurance. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear being without you; your absence felt like torment, while your presence transformed him into a different man altogether.

Although the notion of someone having such power over him would typically be unsettling, he couldn’t view it negatively because it was you. What concerned him more was the possibility of others noticing—the fear that his enemies might discover you, exploiting his vulnerability by hurtin you.

Two and a half months had passed since he last laid eyes on you, adding to the weight of the task Lord Liu Kang had bestowed upon him and his brothers. He longed to complete this mission swiftly and reunite with you, yearning for the calming embrace of your presence. The strain of constant vigilance was taking its toll on him, both mentally and physically, culminating in his recent capture alongside Kuai Liang.

Navigating the stone corridors of Ying Fortress, Bi-Han found himself flanked by a dozen soldiers, with Kuai Liang by his side and Shang Tsung and General Shao ahead of them. Shang Tsung’s words fell on deaf ears as Bi-Han contemplated his next move, steadfast in his refusal to entertain any offers from these unfamiliar men. His focus remained fixed on devising an escape plan to extricate himself from this predicament. As they traversed the corridor into a vast area, Bi-Han was confronted by a multitude of stone sculptures lining the space. Hindered by the restraints on his wrists, he scanned the area for any potential means of escape, exchanging a knowing glance with Kuai Liang, who mirrored his uncertainty.

“Father?”

Bi-Han’s eyes widened at the sudden sound of a familiar, albeit unexpected, female voice behind them. Sensing Kuai Liang’s reaction, he knew it wasn’t a trick of his imagination. With a swift turn, his heart raced as he watched the soldiers before him part, revealing your approach. What the hell were you doing here?

“What’s going on here — Bi-Han?” Your wide-eyed astonishment mirrored his own. As Bi-Han scanned you for any signs of harm, he moved to approach you. But before he could reach, a soldier struck him in the stomach with the tip of his weapon, causing him to stagger backward.

‘’Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!” Your voice, tinged with worry as you shoved the soldier aside, your anxious eyes locking with his. “Bi-Han, are you all right?”

“What are you doing here?” Bi-Han growled out a whisper, tension taut in his voice.

“I’m asking you the same.”

“What is the meaning of this? Do you two know each other?” Shang Tsung’s voice sliced through the hushed talk, prompting Bi-Han to instinctively shield you, despite the restraints on his hands. Determined to protect you at all costs, Bi-Han urged you to take cover behind him, his voice laced with venom. “Get behind me.” he commanded, his grip tightening protectively around your arm.

“There is no need. He is my father.” You revealed, catching Bi-Han off guard with the unexpected revelation. Stunned by the revelation, Bi-Han chastised himself for not piecing together the clues sooner. Living in Outworld, soul magic, an enigmatic father figure—it all suddenly made sense. Yet, your stark differences in character from your father only deepened Bi-Han’s sense of disbelief.

“Why are they prisoners?” you questioned, your gaze flickering between your father and the imposing figure of General Shao and the eerie aura that seemed to surround them.

“They attacked us.” General Shao asserted, his voice gruff as he responded to your inquiry. “We were about to take care of business before you came, sorceress.” Despite Shao’s attempt to intimidate you with his imposing presence, Shang Tsung interjected before Bi-Han, shooting Shao a warning glance.

“They attacked?” Your gaze flickered momentarily, silently questioning the situation. ‘Why?’ The unspoken question hung in the air, directed at Bi-Han. “I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“They were sent here by Liu Kang’s order. To catch us and maybe kill us.” Shao divulged, his voice dripping with hostility.

“Why so? Nobody has told me anything since I was brought here, and even now you still insist on not telling me. I want to know what’s going on. Tell me the truth.”

“Walk with me,” Shang Tsung interjected, gesturing towards a secluded area. With a final, anxious glance towards Bi-Han, you complied, flanked by Shao and Shang Tsung. Bi-Han’s instincts screamed to follow, but he was thwarted by the soldiers’ firm grip. Initially, Bi-Han braced himself for a sense of betrayal, believing that you had concealed Shang Tsung’s identity as your father. However, upon reflection, he realized that you had always been forthcoming with him, never hiding the truth about your father. Bi-Han had simply never asked. Your genuine reaction to the unfolding events affirmed your honesty. It became evident that Shang Tsung had dragged you into this situation without explanation. All that mattered now was escaping with you safely by his side.

‘’You seem quite invested in these men, (Y/n),’’ Shao remarked in a harsh tone, his words more of a probing question than a mere observation.

‘’It’s none of your concern, General Shao.’’ You retorted firmly.

‘‘But it is my concern,’’ interjected Shang Tsung, his tone authoritative. ‘‘As your father, I demand to know the nature of your association with the infamous grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.’’

‘’Before you question me, father, perhaps you should first explain your activities over the past months. Then, and only then, will I consider divulging any information.’’ you countered. ‘’You dragged me here without giving me an explanation, expecting blind trust. It’s not fair, and you know it. You’re exploiting my kindness, I deserve some answers.’’

‘’I was promised my true potential, and I’m going to get that right back. You’re my blood and flesh, I want nothing more than to secure you a good and wealthy future, I want what is best for you—for us.’’ Shang Tsung continued to talk as he walked towards a dark-colored box that looked like some kind of chest. ‘’Take a look around, do you remember what I told you about this place?’’

You watched him with hesitant eyes, then looked around you before answering his question.

‘‘Yes, you said that Emperor Ying’s Dragon Army was here.’’

‘‘Very true. What I told you was not just a fairy tale. These statues were constructed and enchanted by the great mages in the Emperor’s court.’’ Shang Tsung opened the lids of the box, took out a crown and a small green bottle, and emptied the contents of the bottle onto the crown. ‘‘They are animated by the fragments of souls. Once alive they fight tirelessly, unburdened by remorse or pity.’’

‘’What are you planning to do with these?’’ You said, your voice overflowing with obvious concern now.

‘’If they won’t be on our side,’’ Shang Tsung murmured with a half-smile, placing the crown on his head. ‘‘Then I will eliminate them. This is what I had to do, for our future.’’

The moment he finished his words, six of the soldiers standing a little further away stepped forward, and with mind control, moving nimbly despite being made of stone, they began to descend the steps towards them. Bi-Han’s muscles tensed involuntarily, his body as taut as a drawn bowstring as he observed the approaching stone soldiers. If only he could get rid of these damn handcuffs…

‘’No!” Your panicked scream echoed through the vast area as you summoned your magic, green energy crackling around your outstretched hand in an attempt to halt the advancing soldiers. When you realized your magic was ineffective against them, your attention swiftly shifted back to your father.

“Father, stop this!” Startled by your sudden movement and desperate cry, Shang turned his attention to you, momentarily caught off guard. Seizing the opportunity, you darted forward, delivering a powerful blow to his knee, causing him to buckle and kneel before you. With him immobilized for a moment, you snatched the crown from his head and placed it on your own. ‘‘I’m sorry, father, but I cannot allow this.’’

‘’Have you lost your mind?!’’ While Shang Tsung was looking at you with stunned and greatly betrayed eyes, despite the distance, Bi-Han could see tears welling in your eyes. ‘’I am your father! My blood runs through your veins; your loyalty should lie with me.’’

‘‘I know, and I am sorry,’’ you said, your voice trembling with emotion. ‘’But I love him.’’ Both Shang Tsung and Bi-Han froze with surprise at your unexpected reveal, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Your breath came out quickly, the air heavy with tension as a few tears escaped from your eyes, glimmering in the light. ‘’That’s why I cannot stand by and watch you harm him.’’

“(Y/n), behind you!” Kuai Liang’s urgent shout jolted you into action, narrowly dodging Shao’s axe at the last moment. With Shao bearing down on you, Bi-Han could no longer stand idly by. Keeping you in his sight, he and his brother sprang into action, combating Shao’s soldiers amidst the chaos, using the handcuff chains to choke one of the soldiers.

Despite your efforts to evade Shao’s attacks and deflect them onto the stone statues, he effortlessly dispatched them with a few swings of his axe. You tried to keep up with him, but as a healer, your combat skills were lacking, evident in your reliance on the soldiers for protection as you dodged Shao’s attacks. Bi-Han had heard stories about Shao in the past, tales of his power and mercilessness in battle. But now, witnessing Shao’s sadistic enjoyment as he toyed with you, seeing the fear in your eyes, filled Bi-Han with fury and a desire to eliminate Shao.

‘‘Don’t harm her!’’ Shang Tsung intervened, hurling a fireball towards Shao, catching him off guard and forcing him back. “She is my daughter.”

Shao spat on the ground, unaffected by the smoke left behind by the fireball he countered with the tip of his huge axe. “And she betrayed us,” he growled. “You just proclaimed that we would eliminate those who oppose us, sorcerer. That’s precisely what I intend to do.”

As Shao swung his axe again, you pushed the last remaining statue in front of you for protection. However, under the force of Shao’s blow, the statue shattered, leaving a gaping wound from your shoulder to your rib cage. Crimson red blood splattered everywhere, your expression a mixture of pain and shock as you desperately tried to stay on your trembling legs. A pained groan escaped your lips as you stumbled backwards, Shao raising his axe for another strike, this time aiming for a fatal blow.

“No!” While Bi-Han was blowing off the soldier’s head he had knocked down with his foot, bloody brain pieces flew everywhere, his heart was in his mouth. He couldn’t bear to witness you lose your life before his eyes, with so little distance between you.

‘’I told you to stay away from my daughter.’’

In a stroke of luck, Shang Tsung once again caught Shao off guard with a barrage of fireballs, diverting his attention away from you at the last moment. Shao was thrown several meters away, gasping for breath, while Shang grasped you firmly, applying pressure to your wound. Your body tensed with pain, tears flowing freely from your eyes as you struggled to maintain a brave face.

‘’You will bandage this as soon as you get away from here. Do you understand?’’

‘‘Father-’’

‘’Do you understand?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘‘Good, I’ll buy you time,’’ Shang Tsung urged, motioning for you to leave. ‘‘Take a few of the statues with you; they’ll provide protection until you’re out of here. I’ll find you once I’ve dealt with this.’’

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you managed to press a small, wet kiss to your father’s cheek, gratitude evident in your pale, tired face.

‘‘I’ll explain everything.’’

‘‘Later. Go now,’’ he insisted.

Bi-Han brutally incapacitated the last soldier before reaching you in a few wide strides. Shang’s gaze fixed on him for the first time since his arrival, promising death with its intensity.

“You’d better take care of my daughter, grandmaster. Otherwise, I’ll follow your soul to the Netherrealm,’’ warned Shang Tsung with a menacing tone.

‘‘I will protect her with my life.’’ Bi-Han asserted, though his agreement with his recent foe felt tenuous, the situation now imbued with personal stakes. Shang promptly removed the handcuffs from both him and his brother’s wrists, freeing them.

‘‘Go on quickly. The others will be here soon, so hurry up. My daughter will take you a shortcut.’’ directed sorcerer.

As Shao charged toward them, Bi-Han scooped you up into his arms, finding relief in having you close again. With urgency, he ran alongside Kuai Liang, ascending the steps and leaving the area behind. With your remaining strength, you compelled a dozen soldiers to follow, your hand still applying pressure to the wound. Upon reaching the corridor they had passed earlier, you weakly tugged at Bi-Han’s clothes to get his attention.

‘‘We can’t escape through the main exit, it’s too risky. There’s a passageway from behind the fortress leading towards the mountains; we can slip through unnoticed.’’ you suggested.

‘‘Tomas is out, we can’t leave him here.’’ His brother interjected.

‘‘Exactly where, I can use one of these statues to find and contact him.’’

‘‘He is where the Soul Stealers are.’’

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, sweat beading on your forehead as your skin paled. Despite the obvious pain, you maintained a resolute expression. As they reached a narrow area, your faint voice reached their ears.

‘‘I found Tomas. I’m getting him out through a different exit; it’s too risky for him to come this way.’’

‘‘Okay, we’re counting on you,’’ Bi-Han said, hoping to give you courage. You were so small and lifeless in his arms, though he couldn’t bring himself to say it, his heart ached with painful sorrow as he looked at you. If it weren’t for the faint rise and fall of your chest, he might have feared the worst; you were losing a lot of blood. The wound must have cut deeper than he thought. Bi-Han looked into his brother’s eyes, whatever expression there was on his face, Kuai Liang stopped walking for a moment and squeezed his shoulder, looking at him with understanding eyes.

‘‘We will save her, brother, don’t worry. She’ll be okay,’’ Kuai Liang reassured, and they proceeded to a small room at the end of the corridor. A statue opened the thick old door, revealing a landscape of snow-covered mountains.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

It was already dark when they met Tomas a little beyond the fortress, at the bottom of a frozen river. After you spent the rest of your strength to bring Tomas to them, you fell unconscious, Bi-Han had to hastily bandaged you because he knew he had to keep a distance between them and the fortress in case of getting caught. And when they decided to spend the night in a place that he believed was safe, he didn’t let you leave his side for a moment, even though he was with his brothers and they were safe for now. Tomas had left a short while ago to hunt some mountain hares for food, while Kuai Liang went out to gather supplies to sustain the fire he had kindled.

Bi-Han carefully cleaned the wound with the materials he had and bandaged it tightly. Your bleeding was still going on, but it wasn’t intense compared to the beginning, as long as you weren’t moving, it could buy time until he could get you home. But you would definitely have needed stitches in your wound.

‘’I can heal myself.’’ you muttered softly. Bi-Han didn’t even realize he had said the last part aloud, too focused on gently stroking your pale cheek with one hand while carefully examining you.

‘’How do you feel?’’

‘’Not at my best, but I’ll be fine.’’ You weakly replied. Even if you wanted to reciprocate the gesture by lifting your hand, which was resting on your lap, it was quite difficult for you to do so. Bi-Han noticed this, grabbed your hand, and guided it to his cheek, allowing you to caress it. ‘’Thank to gods, you look well. The others-’’

‘‘We’re all fine except you, don’t worry. You almost died.’’ The last part poured from his lips with great hatred, it felt terrible even to say it. He hated the blood on his hands even more. Seeing you in such a state filled Bi-Han with a profound sense of helplessness. He feared the worst, and it was the most intense fear he had ever experienced. Even now, it lingered in his mouth like a bad taste, causing a churning sensation in his stomach. His entire body felt ice-cold with stress, his instincts had gone into hyperawareness.

‘’It just grazed, it doesn’t even hurt. I swear.’’

"If it had cut deeper, you could have lost your arm as well as your life. It does not suit you to lie, (y/n). I still don't understand how you could be Shang Tsung's daughter."

‘’Are you angry?’’ As your voice quivered with uncertainty, Bi-Han tenderly placed a kiss on the top of your head, offering silent reassurance before you found the courage to speak again. ‘’It’s just… My father is a difficult man and kind of has a bad reputation. People are ready to attack him given the chance. I didn’t mean to hide it from you; I was just afraid you’d leave me once you knew the truth. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

‘’You think a sorcerer can intimidate me?” A small smile appeared on his lips as he continued to caress your cheek. After hearing your confession, he wanted nothing more than to reassure you and dismiss your fear. “I’m just confused and angry with myself for not seeing the signs earlier,” he said honestly. “I almost lost you, and besides that, nothing else matters.” While he continued to stroke your cheek with one hand, he didn’t break eye contact with you for a moment. He needed you to know that he was sincere in what he was about to say. “Today has been an important day for me to realize some things.”

Thanks to the heat emitted by the camp flame, he could easily discern your facial features. Despite the weariness evident in your eyes, there was a twinkle that betrayed your curiosity about what he had to say. Leaning in a little more, he shifted his body closer to yours, positioning you between his legs as he sat leaning against a tree. With a gentle touch, he lowered his hand from your cheek to your chin, lifting it slightly to plant a small, tender kiss on your lips.

With his cold breath mingling with your warmth, he whispered softly, “I love you.”

Caught off guard, you gazed up at him with wide, teary eyes, a breath catching in your throat. As a tear traced a soft path down your cheek, Bi-Han gently caught it with the tip of his finger, his own eyes filled with concern. Then, with the warmest and most sincere smile he had ever seen, you planted a kiss on his cheek.

‘’I’ve dreamed of this a few times, but I never thought you would express it.’’

‘‘Is that why you’re crying? If you’re hiding the truth about your shoulder causing pain-’’

‘‘I’m crying with happiness, my love. Now give me one more kiss so that I can believe in you better.’’

Bi-Han couldn’t help the smile settling on his face.

‘’As you wish.’’