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sketchfan85 · 6 months ago

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Kirishima's Mystique Party

Feral Riot

In any career field, you were bound to have the odd case of nepotism especially when you had a friend or relative in right the places but often you had exceptions to this rule. The sort of individuals who proved they earned their positions and jobs not because of connections but their own effort, talents and hard work. Such was the case with MegaKat City's Enforcers' law militia Lt. Felina Feral, niece of Commander Ulysses Feral and believe you me, she was a real righteous badass to have gotten her rank. A gung-ho fearless risktaker who had a kindness streak to her, she was an affable sort of feisty warrior woman but at the same time not someone you wanted to cross the wrong way...

Yet at the same time, it was a contrast for guys talk about how hot and sexy she was but they never bothered to actually make a move on and ever ever think of flirting with her. Maybe they considered her that intimidating or could be they were worried about what her uncle woild say and do to them if he ever got a hint of ill intentions. One thing was certain was that it meant Felina found herself still single and going through a major dry spell. The kind of which if it went in any longer that st some point her own hands and toys wouldn’t be able to even get the job done….

Yet leave it to Callie Briggs to show that know how that keeps the trains running on time by seeming to give her the answer to her unspoken prayers. It’d started of course with her being brought in board to act as the feisty blonde’s bodyguard during current errand which involved acting as a guide and host for some pro heroes visiting from Japan. Who apparently had a few in their group that she was very familiar and acquainted with if the eagerness in her body language was anything to go by, seems her one time visit to the land of the rising sun left quite an impression. Made the enforcer officer curious as to what sort of people they’d hosting for their stay in MegaKat City……

Now of course when you live and grow up in Megakat City, home to a large population of those with a heteromorph type quirk that made one resemble felines in appearance, it stands to reason that it was a matter of perspective in terms of what came off as exotic. Like a native of MC would certainly appeal to one's tastes and vice versa but Felina had to say, Ms.Briggs' guests of honour were certainly quite the exotic bunch to say the very least; a pink alien girl, a blue scaly looker who could shapeshift, a frog girl and of course their boyfriend. Who she had to say was quite the looker and then some, if Callie's rather affectionate welcome was anything to go by and how familiarly she was being with the group. Though it seemed the frog girl was a new one to her which certainly made her all the more eager to catch up...which was how Felina came to find herself playing chaperone as the deputy mayor took her VIPS to private high class bar and might've been the liquor (which Callie persuaded her to indulge in so as to not feel left out) talking but....damn was this Kirishima guy looking so damn fuckable right now....

The next thing Felina knew, it all like some hazy montage as she found herself kissing 5 different sets of lips, that of their guests and the deputy mayor herself as they were riding the express elevator to Callie's apartment. Where she soon found herself naked and with this sturdy himbo pinning her down as he loomed over, pumpig and thrusting balls deep into her heated snatch. All the while Callie was was finding Mina and Maya, the pink and blue babes taking turns kissing her and playing with her furry tits as Tsuyu, the frog girl, was showing her how good that tongue of hers really was. Inches and of slithery muscle sinking deep into her slit and tasting the flow of her flavorable nectar. Suffice to say, small wonder this guy had 3 girlfriends, let alone why Callie was so eager for this little reunion tour she got roped into......

But of course there wasn't much time to think, let alone dwell or reflect on that train of thought at the moment because right now, her brain was too busy drowning under a constant assault of pleasure and ecstasy flooding her brain. All the long days and hours of enforcer work and the stress related to it just being washed away as Kirishima was pounding her doggy, or rather kitty style in this case as inch after oh so fine meaty inch sunk and plunged away. Those heavy balls smacking her clit as his length and girth made her immaculate furry abs swell with a noticeable bulge indicating the depth and reach of his rutting, orgasms coming in a way that made it mission impossible to even keep count of them. All the while Felina felt her brain pretty much go on autopilot as the last thing she could vividly recall as Tsuyu coming into her line of sight with the frog girl planting a very deep, sloppy French kiss on her, invading her mouth and throat with that insanely gifted amphibious tongue of hers.....

She wasn't sure at what point she blacked out or when her body was moving on autopilot but it definitely went on all night long, given the fact she found the morning sunlight greeting her through Callie's window. The enforcer officer cracking her eyes open to find her toned furry form wet, sticky and deliciously sore in all the right places with her, the lovely Ms.Briggs and the 3 UA bombshells laying atop the hardening alpha male in a tangle of limbs. And goddamn if he wasn't looking so adorable sleeping so peacefully but really, who could blame him? It was plenty well deserved after the night they'd all had together, it's a wonder she was able to wake up and feel like she could even move right now.....

Suffice to say, she was certainly looking forward to repeat performances for the duration of their VIPs' stay here at MegaKat City. As well as thinking of joininh Callie on any and all future visits to Japan to see the kinky quartet because hot damn it'd be something to see how passionate they'd be when playing the hosts. If it was anything like last night, there's no doubt Felina wouldn't have to worry about dry spells for a good, long while. And how sweet it is....

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And this not so little Piggy

Every once so often from entering high school and beyond, the life of training and studying to be pro heroes was one of constant effort and service especially when helping and giving back to the local community. Which was why we come to find the fine assortment of misfits helping out a small town located a few miles on some an island within the Hawaiian region in between Japan and America, helping out the fine folks who called it home. From assisting the elderly to babysitting, such were the little things to always remind them to lookout for the little people who always had your backs. Well unless you were Bakugo of course who was as tempermental as ever about doing something that wasn't exclusively about fighting bad guys and kicking ass....and it's a wonder why his rankinngs as a pro don't make the top 10?

But of course if you know how this story goes, in the case of this context we find Kirishima starting his community service off by helping out with a local watering hole known as the Brickhouse. A simple but cozy little bar owned and operated by a heteromorph trio known as the Pig sisters, with eldest sister Pandora seen as something of a pillar among the neighborhood. For the duration of Class A's time here, our sturdy stud's tasks and duties were to consist of helping out with odd jobs and acting as a bouncer if need be. And you can bet he was going to bring his Plus Ultra A game when push came to shove.

So here he was earlier than intended looking to make a good first impression and helpout with setting up for opening and business operating hours. The 3 sisters who ran this place were different enough in looks and personality but they swerve all very welcoming and friendly as they had advised where he could enter. Coming in to find himself in the sort of the bar was the trio’s domestic residence for off the clock relaxing and living as he looked around and called out, letting them know he’d arrived. So far no sign of anyone here or so it seemed as the sounds of running water from a shower could be heard.

Now any other guy in a situation like this would be tempted to follow and have themselves a look see at the heavenly visual pleasures waiting inside. Of course Kirishima, need you be reminded, was a gentleman and not prone to such base behaviour as he politely called up to whoever it was that he'd arrived. But of course this was Victoria, the youngest of the Sisters and well, when it came to your typical airhead bimbo blondes, she was a textbook case hence why of course she came out of the shower in nothing but a towel, forgetting she was set to be in polite company. Or that said towel was barely hanging on there before it fell off as she tripped and stumbled down the stairs with her thicc naked form landing atop the sturdy himbo while he caught her in his arms......

Next thing Kirishima knew, this porcine bimbo was making out with him as if such an impulse was only natural, maybe she mistook him for some gentleman caller or it was just some shared mutual instinct as the bimbo pig girl had her lips locked with his. The sturdy himbo proving his muscles weren't for show as he had the blonde pressed up against the wall, making her squeal and moan with delight as he plowed away. Inches of his fuckmeat sinking deep into her pussy balls deep in a way that no doubt no toy had ever managed to achieve all the while Vicky found those firm hands of his really enjoyed feeling up her body. After all, Kirishima was never one to shy away from expressing his enjoyment of a woman when it came to her body shape and size and a big, thicc juicy gal like hers just had meat in all the right places just begging to be played with....

Which he most certainly did, much to Vicky's utter delight which was expressed in deep lusty moans that mixed with the heavy, wet smacks of skin slapping skin from their marathon rut. Seconds into minutes just flying by with every orgasm as Kirishima took her in each and every which way from a mating press to her bouncing and riding on his piston pumping cock in forward and reverse cowgirl style. The blonde and the pseudo redhead at one point having somehow made their way back to the bathroom where they continued going at it under the rain spray of hot steamy water which certainly didn't dull the spark of passion and lust between them. So lost in their own little world that you could hardly blame them for missing out and not noticing details....like the fact someone could see or hear them if they weren't careful.....

For in fact, looming just outside the ajar open bathroom door was Vicky's older sister, Pandora, owner and operator of the Brickhouse Bar and ooh she was definitely enjoying the show. Now of course she wasn't mad by any means of the imagination, after all the guy had been alone with Vicky so something like this was bound to happen. But hot damn if the guy wasn't a real catch, an absolute unit, it was a lucky thing Lenora wasn't in town. Kirishima would seriously have his handfus and then some, that's for sure....

Of course Pandora was making plans for her own fun in the future with the sturdy himbo. That is after she had herself a little game jerking his chain and pulling his leg, making him sweat and think he might be in trouble. A sweet guy like him was sure to look cute worrying if the redhead porcine beaut was going to skin him alive for getting frisky with her sister. Hey, it's like the old song goes, girls just want to have fun....

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Pandora's Box...of love?!!

Kirishima wasn't sure how to think or feel during his community service quality time at the Brickhouse, mainly due to the peculiar nature of Ms.Pandora. Whenever he wasn't busy bussing tables or doing what he had to do as a bouncer, among other odd jobs and random tasks, then he was sure to find the redhead bartender just...staring at him. He wasn't sure yet but it was like she knew something he didn't yet...or that she was waiting for him to confirm that she knew what she did for a reason. But he seriously worried it might've been because of what went down between him and her little sister Victoria.

Not that he could blame her of course for being so suspicious. after all Pandora cared for and cherished her sisters and really it wasn't like he'd meant things to go down the way they had. It seriously just sort of happened with how his luck with women was and Victoria just seemed to sweep him up in the momentum of it all. Which was how he came to find himself balls deep inside her as they made deep, passionate fucking music together in her bedroom. It certainly wasn't easing the redhead's suspicions with how bubbly and friendly Vicky was when it came to the casual glomps and the sweet little kisses or the pet names so yeah if anything, Pandora was a ticking time bomb.

And soon as closing time came around and Victoria told him Pandora had wanted to see him in her office soon as soon as possible, he knew that's when the dynamite was about go boom. Walking like it was the green mile and the electric chair, he was puzzled to find the lights dimmed and the office empty and....why was her couch folded out into a bed?! The answer to that question became apparent when the door shut and locked behind him, turning to see the red head elder porcine sister standing clad in stunning, sexy lingerie and wearing an expression that said she was down to fuck. Boom went the dynamite indeed as she suddenly pounced while he was still caught off guard, lips pressed to his as he fell back onto the couch bed and things soon began to escalate as they naturally would soon as she got his clothes flying off of him.

Now far be it for Kirishima to question the how and why when he figured Pandora was going to chew him out for getting all lewd and wild with her sister but in terms of possible scenarios, this was still just so unexpected. But one couldn’t exactly argue when they had the sight of this thick, sexy redhead porcine babe naked and bouncing on his cock, her skin glistening with a luscious sheen of sweat as she enjoyed every inch sinking balls deep into her. Her bubbly ass cheeks clapping, tits bouncing hypnotically and that lovely voice of hers letting out deep, sensual moans, it seemed it’d been quite a while since Pandora had ever enjoyed the sexual company of another man. Which was quite mind boggling to the sturdy himbo because you’d think she and her sisters woild have to besting guys off and away with a stick, after all in this day and age, who didn’t enjoy such big, thick and sexy women?!

Just the thought was enough to get Kirishima past his state of doubt, confusion and hesitation as he grasped and squeezed Pandora’s booty cheeks, much to her delight. More so she felt him no longer being idle by the sensation of him pumping his hips as he began pounding her deep and hard, welcoming him into her embrace as he sat up to lock lips with her in a sloppy yet oh so passionate kiss. The office filled with the sweet, primal rhythm and noise of skin slapping sex, the likes of which would have Mineta lamenting as to why he couldn’t he be that lucky. Yeah not even if He’ll froze over and the devil was seen having to go rent a snow plow………cry mad about it you little grape runt….

But I digress of course as we come back on track to find Pandora being put through the ringer from Kirishima expressing his enjoyment for her quite stunning body. Like those sort of big thick women you'd see on certain Renaissance era paintings with how she had curves and meat in all the right places which were plenty to enjoy, particularly when those asshcheeks clapped and those tits bounced. The hypnotic visual rhythm spurring him on as he took her from behind doggy style to pinning her down on the floor and practically piledriving her as if she were some sort of lewd butter churn. Which she certainly welcomed with every orgasms making her already high arousal skyrocket to such heights that of course the sky was the goddamn limit........

It was sometime before the pair had finally finished with an unconscious but dreamily smiling Pandora being carried out bridal style by Kirishima. Kept good and snug and enjoying the warmth of his muscular form as he carried her through the empty bar and back to her apartment. Making sure not to disturb Vicky if she was sleeping as he carefully placed Pandora into her own bed safe and snug, ever the gentleman as he departed back to where he and his girlfriends were staying for thd duration of this internship. Knowing that Mina, Maya and Tsuyu were going to just love hearing the details of this spicy little encounter for sure.....

And it certainly wasn't a oe off, one time thing for sure during the duration, be it with Pandora, Vicky or both when the 2 thirds of the trio were feeling particularly saucy. Seriously if Lenora were here, he'd risk exhaustion if not near death for sure but it'd be a different story if one were to consider Kirishima now compared to later in the future if such an encounter were to ever occur. But of course as the old chesnut of wisdom goes, that's a different story altogether. How it went, well who can say, right?!

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Close Encouters...of the lewd kind!!

It'd been sometime since the Huntress had last come to this blue planet third from its native sun in this milky way within the cosmos especially since her encounter with the man who rightfully claimed her as his prize. Much as she would want to set about seeing him again, however urgent matters required her having to come back to Earth outside of the usual hunting season that were key priority. It seemed a transport run by a band of fellow hunters had hit a snag and crashlanded, as it so happens right in her alpha male's homeland and thus the code of her people required that the remains and the wreckage be disposed of. No evidence of their race's existence was to ever be found or exploited but the most dangerous worry of all?

A blasted xeno had been among the cargo she'd be damned if one of those damned feral, twin mouthed acid blooded abominations be allowed to roam free and do so as it pleases. Especially with the risk of it upgrading into a queen and infesting the land of the rising sun and then the rest of the world with its spawn set to fester and multiply. And so the race and the hunt were on to find and capture the Xenomorph if eliminate it if need be, not a single trace to be left behind what so ever. Yet something instinctively told her that her cocern was of a different sort altogether..and that might be for a good reason of course.

You see this xenomorph was an outlier of sorts, a mutant that had tampered with by some foolish intergalactic scientists right from when she was still in her chestburster stage. The end result being not just an increased intellect and sense of self-awareness but also having physical and biological traits akin to your basic humanoid female like the huntress herself. Meaning this xeno was and could be fully capable of sexual reproduction and birth, the fools had basically messed with the natural order!! Who knows what would happen if this deviant of intergalactic nature was successfully knocked up, for all they knew she could probably put out whole entire litters worth for a swarm more than a basic queen!!

So here she was, tracking this deviant mutant down in, as it so happens, the same neck of Japanese woodland where she’d met the Earth man who’d so rightfully claimed her as a mate. Her body shuddering at the phantom sensations of pleasure before she regained focus on finding her quarry as she follows the trail. One could only hope the xeno hadn’t found some hapless male to have its wicked way with, otherwise this planet and the galaxy at large could be screwed. And not in the fun, primal and erotic babymaking way mind you…..

So lo and behold imagine her livid, indignant fury to have found the trail leader her right to the damn mutant bitch in heat getting it doggy style from Kirishima, the nearby tent indicating no doubt he'd been camping when the freaking thing up and ambushed him. Granted she couldn't really blame the slutty deviant for having quite a sense of taste and culture in her choice of men as the huntress looked on with morbid fascination and voyeuristic contempt, 3 fingers knuckle deep as she plunged them into her dribbling snatch. Looking on with morbid, voyuerstic fascination at the sight of that damned mutie xeno taking it in a downward dog postion from the Red Riot alpha male with that sinister tail sensually swaying idly in the air. All the while those ebony booty cheeks clapped from the impact of thise jackhammer pistoning loins, those heavy balls soaked with her nectar as they slapped her clit.....

How she loathed yet admired that atrocity of science given such sensual shape and form, so shamelessly enjoying the undeserved pleasure of that sturdy earth man. Her seemingly blank by design face expressing such erotic ecstasy and glee as she was being fucked deep and hard, credit where it was due, this xeno bitch seemed to know and understand her place in the universe. As little more than some whore in heat, fit only to be mated and bred by her more superior, virile alpha male, those stupidly kissable lips drooling as her ebony form shivered and shuddered in orgasmic bliss. Stupid, sexy fuckmeat with her stupid, submissive, breedable form.....

Now the Huntress had to wonder if she was out of her own damn mind, as hours later after the marathon had finally ceased and she found herself hauling the xeno out and away via a fireman's carry. That is after having carefully tucked Kirishima back in safe and snug in his tent, where chances were he'd wake up to remember this as some bizarre dream. But of course she made sure to help herself by cleaning up his dick with a sneaky blowjob, hey it’d been a while and she needed some protein for the flight back to the home world. And admittedly this xeno bitch had some flavour given how tasty her nectar was mixed with his seed…..

by all accounts she had this mutant xeno desd to rights and yet….well, damnit all her libido had won in seeing and thinking of her as less of some atrocity muscling in in her territory and more well..intimately. Plus with the right amount of persuasion to the elders, she could convince them to keep her around and that any possible hybrid offspring from their Earth man could have potential much like her own. Besides which, wouldn’t hurt to have a travelling companion to keep her cosy in those boring interstellar travels between worlds. In space, they say, no one can hear you scream…in ecstasy…..

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Bellum of the Ball

Townsville in this era of quirks had to be considered the most hectic place to live since not a day at the least to a month at the most ever seemed to go by without something going on involving crime and mayhem. But leave it to its 3 most notable superpowered residents for keeping each and every day safe and sound and for the sole brains and sense of reason and rational in all city hall that was the one and only, Ms.Sara Bellum. Quite a stunning woman to behold in person as she radiated a natural sensual energy without even having to try yet had a mind that was far more than her appearance would suggest of her being some mere bimbo who got by on just her looks. Small wonder most felt that she'd more than earned herself some overdue vacation days which she was certainly putting to good use.

Which in this case saw her enjoy a little R&R with some sightseeing in Japan, particularly in the Mustafu region where she was currently enjoying a little quality time and coffee at a local cafe with a new friend she'd made. None other than the Rated R pro-heroine Ms.Midnight herself, who ever being the perceptive sort could tell from Sara's body language that as much as she was enjoying this downtime, she still seemed to be carrying a little work related tension and stress internally. To which the sensual teacher had a flash of a naughty ideas she advised the redhead about a method she guaranteed would work wonders in giving her an unreal sense of relaxation. Of course Ms.Bellum couldn't help but feel concerned about possible red flags when she was handed a business card with an address...to one of the woman's goddamn love hotels!!

Now normally Ms.Bellum was not one to indulge in what'd be pretty borderline scandalous behaviour that'd likely tarnish or jettison her career but Ms.Midnight had some proven to be quite persuasive. Maybe chalk it up to those damn pheromones of hers, they may've put men to sleep but they must've had a whole other effect because why else would be here entering this damn establishment and taking the express elevator up to one of its suites? But of course chalk that up to the fact that, admittedly, she may've been somewhat horny and it'd been a while, too long even, since the last time she shared a bed sexually. Question is, given how Midnight was, lord only knows what her taste in men was that she was sure to find who knows what waiting for her.....

Soon as she stepped off the lift and entered the suit to be greeted with the sight of none other than Kirishima, sitting naked as Mina, Maya and Tsuyu giving him a threeway blowjob, it clicked in the ginger woman's mind that she could see why Midnight was so eager to arrange this private little liaison on her behalf. Her normally rational mind currently having its helm seized by her now motivated libido with it urging her to stop gawking, get naked and have herself a taste of that hunky slab of manmeat. Quite frankly, she saw no reason to debate and argue with such an inviting sight before and hot damn was the heavy scent of sex in the air just too much to ignore!! The Townsville VIP casting aside her dignity and restraint and blocking out those earlier doubts and hesitations in favour of what was sure to be quite the thrill ride......

What a thrill ride it was as Bellum found herself aboard the Red Riot XXX-press all the way to Satisfaction Avenue in Bonetown as she filled the suite with her cries and moans of pleasure. Her tanned, naked body glistening with sweat as her bootycheeks clapped with every impact of their loins, bouncing and riding on Kirishima cowgirl style with the sturdy himbo grasping and massaging her luscious hips. All the while his 3 quite lovely, exotic girlfriends assaulted her upper body with sensual caressing and groping with Tsuyu frenching her with that long, froggy tongue deepthroating her as Mina and Maya kissed, licked and sucked on her juicy titties. The sight of such saucy action spurring their alpha male on as he pumped and thrust harder and faster, balls deep into the welcoming embrace of her snatch.....

But of course the alpha girl trio certainly knew when to make the most of their minutes with their man when they got their own one on one time, as well as letting Ms.Bellum enjoy her own which she was finding to be quite the thrill ride. Orgasms hitting her with more frequency than the daily to weekly giant monster assaults Townsville just seemed to be a magnet for and she was loving every damn second of it. Especially relishing the chivalrous stud's attention with those sharp red eyes of his often locked on and glued to the sight of her thunderbun clapping asscheeks or her hypnotically bouncing tits which she took to proudly, shamelessly displaying for his enjoyment in whatever position allowed it. Losing track of time and quite frankly, none too worried as every climax just made the seconds and minutes fly by with this erotic marathon showing no signs of stopping....

By the time Sara had regained consciousness and proper sense of rational thought, it was well within the late twilight hours and she was feeling wet, sticky and the sort of sense of numbness that meant just one thing. She had been fucked damn good and loved every single second of it as she laid atop the dozing Kirishima, nerves tingling with delight at the feel of their skin pressed together. His girlfriends laying atop them in a sexy little snuggle pile as the stunning redhead let sleep properly claim her, her dreams filled with sensual visions of her passionate marathon. Reminding herself to thank Midnight for this soon as she saw her..and maybe discuss future appointments…..

After all, an experience like this was too good to be just a one off, one time sort of deal. Plus with how hectic and stressful things could get in Townsville on a regular daily to weekly basis, it was hard going trying to find a casual fling, let alone a steady relationship. Speaking of which, she was sure Kirishima and his 3 lovely ladies wouldn’t mind coming on over for a tour sometime, especially of her own home. Particularly her backyard swimming pool…and swimwear would be…optional…

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rewordthis · 2 months ago

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I am still so amazed at Wind Breaker’s 2nd season wrap up~

Have a nice month, Loves!

I have sooo much to say for this season, but the final episode alone was enough to make me crave marshmallows, but! Leave it to my stupid phone to not let me have ONE—just ONE—screenshot! 😤 I asserted dominance.

Anyway… the episode was beautifully paced and lighthearted.

That monkey is the funniest little babyboy. Feed my child!!!

I was smiling nearly the whole time. My son (☀️) is not the bigger man—he will fucking ask and fight for his food and drink. God forbid you deny him his portion! I’m looking at you, Sugishita. *does that thing with my fingers were I point at my eyes and then at him*

Umemiya being completely out of his freaking mind and praising Sugishita for… straightening the cup. Bruh. Hiragi is the only logical guy in that bunch—I swear!

Uchida-san’s voice as he fucking SQUEAKED after this scene, practically sent me, btw!!! 🤣🙃

Nirei forgetting his nervousness and literally throwing a performance out of nowhere in front of everyone?! Gold! And then getting all serious about filling his notebook like… PLEASE!

I no joke, feel Sakura to an existential level here.

But during his performance we have a key visual of the 5 students that would later be the 4 devas and their top head. Here, before the ranks are decided as the devas, we have them represented by flowers.

Anticlockwise, the upper corners are adorned with a camellia (tsubaki in Japanese) in the place of the left hand and green, holly olive (hiragi, or… at least that’s what it should be but the leaves here are much more wide and elongated and with less spiny edges—they should be at least a bit thorny ideally, which would be a direct nod at Hiragi’s style but I guess they went with this design to show his more kind nature. 🫤) at the place of the right hand and then at Umemiya’s feet we see dogwood (mizuki, though there seem to be and some hydrangea species that fall under the same name but this is the most commonly referred to. :3) and lastly peach blossoms (momo).

At this point, I want to say that Nii-sensei and the production team really went all out into portraying Endo as the blue flame force. I really wanted to screenshot that frame… Did it. :3

Yasss! Look at how this is portrayed!

Engulfed in blue flames, the kind of cold and sadistic characters are always represented by, Endo is of a much more sinister link in a chain of events that lead Sakura’s evolution into the man he can be.

Endo’s profile is reminiscent a lot of Togame for me, for some reason. Maybe it’s their noses…. 🤔

That said, Endo is also depicted as who would possibly Sakura ended up as, had he not come to Furin when he did. The visuals during this scene are incredibly telling.

Please note how they are both fitted with a nearly identical facade. A mask that both hides their true nature—potentially in Endo’s case, but most definitely in Sakura’s—while also making them terrifying as opponents. There is no greater threat, than not knowing who you are facing and what their emotional state is. In a sense, since we also see Sakura’s “mask” being made of “noise” and with a more passive expression than Endo’s, that can also indicate a “confusion” of self—of being, caused by external forces. We also see him “splashing” that mask on as if it was water, which ends up having the opposite effect, though. Indeed, Sakura is beginning to clear up from that substance through his own driving force in the end.

Meanwhile, Endo’s “mask” is quite literally a mask, as it is defined, solidly attached to him and even has a satisfied expression. The red is horrific, making him look like a deranged demon having just ascended from Hell’s pits, with the intent and power to wreak havoc. But… he wears it. That mask is not his face either. No matter how much more settled he is in his role. Or how he chose that for himself or not, this is still not his own face, but a mask he’s grown into as a second nature… Truly wonder what he really looks like beneath it, as well as to what pushed him performing it. Was it a fucked up background just like Sakura’s where he was constantly rejected and bullied for something out if his control? Was it fear or maybe boredom? Could it be the need to fit standards that forced him to twist up? I gather that the biggest understanding for Sakura about his own emotions and self-management is going to come facing Endo. Finding out and undoing Endo’s cause of turning himself into an Oni, is going to be one of the biggest lessons in Sakura’s journey of self-discovery.

It meshes so well with the opening…

The story really did a 360° at Sakura being of the exact same mindset when he was first introduced in this episode. We even had first season’s ending theme play in the background! Sakura’s surprise while listening to Endo’s backstory about taking his clan and exiting Furin because the fights were getting fewer each day must, no doubt, have felt like a jab over a tender wound on his ribs… 🥺

Throughout this time all the discussion is pretty light considering the severity of the situation, which is Sakura attracting Endo’s interest and thus disaster upon his schoolmates and the town. He is basically the apple of discord. He wasn’t at the beginning, because KEEL couldn’t know about him and were forming for quite some time before he got in the picture, but since the only time when there is a direct link of the way he caught Endo’s eye in the discussion is about their meeting with him, in which he did admit to spotting Sakura during the KEEL fight is actually quite telling that Sakura was what sealed the fate of Furin and Makochi. Endo admitted to trying to interfere with the peace of the people, but also revealed that Sakura caught his eye—something that has happened only once before! And something that practically means doom. Heh, Sakura has been through a lot, this is just one more challenge...

What really was shit, is how stupid english subs miss the point in a lot of translations. (They fixed it. Thankfully.) What Sakura said about letting Endo and his clan come? Yeah, he said “people, things, feelings—protecting what is important, ain’t we (俺たち), Bofurin for?”. Bro. DUDE. He freaking included himself along with them! Something he hadn't outspokenly done so far, so… yeah. BIG DEAL, actually. And his tone and expression on top of that? The most engaged delivery ever! No hesitation. No doubt. Just pure determination. To what Umemiya’s responce is actually the best confirmation for Sakura. He has found his place to belong—his home—finally; now he has to fight to keep it!💥

His tiny blushes over being accepted time and again, are absolutely precious, too. Btw. 🤭

And here is the best, WHAT do you mean Takiishi is basically suzaku (one of the four sacred beasts) and also the phoenix, voiced by Kamiya Hiroshi??? He’s going to have a multiple personality disorder, isn’t he? He already piled people up to throw fireworks… LMAO

Why is this dude rocking a horned skull with animal print and pearls??? 🤣🤣🤣

One moment I’d like to point out however in this scene is that even though Endo laughed upon finding Takiishi in the alley, and even going as far as accept and act as if Takiishi’s reason to fight and take down all those guys because they were there first was normal and a matter of fact, upon hearing Takiishi being disappointed that the fireworks didn’t go as far as he’d like and that he needs to pile more bodies (bruh. ಠ_ಠ) we see even Endo being… scared. Like, this isn’t my imagination, alright? He was freaking out at Takiishi right there!? Σ（・v・；）

I also got blindsided by the ending. What do you mean Endo fell in love at first sight with Takiishi? Just from him having climbed high and moon-gazing??? Also… matching tattoos??? Hello?! Power couple??? Married??? Awww… they so young~ Hope they don’t get a divorce. :3

#wind breaker #wbk #wind breaker season 2 #episode rant #writing this nearly drove me crazy #btw.#i started it in jun 20th brooo!!!#why is it so hard to do anything these days?!#😮‍💨#is it half-done? maybe.#is it packed with love? most definitely!#am i tired af trying to compose it? dude you have no idea…#so please take it “as is”#i’d love to hear thoughts too #but please no manga spoilers! author is still an anime only #:’3

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kaeyachi · 3 months ago

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(Regardless, the "Master of Knights" point still stands, so my joke of Jean and Kaeya each being first choice in their respective niches—next-in-rank and choice-of-his-rank still stands)

That's an interesting conversation! Jean's story says only the most distinguished knights are given her title. The description of Favonius Sword (about "Wolf Pup" and "Lion of Light") says that "Wolf" and "Lion" titles are reserved for those with the greatest potential for leadership, who will "one day" become Grand Master. That was 500 years ago, so I don't know that it's a hard rule or still the primary usage, but considering it's at least "tradition", current "Wolf" is Grandmaster, and current "Lion" is "Master">"Acting Grandmaster"...

Usually, I'd think it'd make more sense as [current GM has one]->[gives preferred next generation successor other]->[repeats]. Although, Rostam and Arundolyn seem to be the same age if they were friends as kids, so inheriting from each other doesn't make sense. (And Varka seems younger than I thought...) I assume they were named the two most likely? Two top candidates? One or the other, then backup when one quits/dies, then passes the other's title to their own heir? Presumably by previous Grand Master. In that case, I wonder if two people can share an animal at once if one is already GM (since there would have been 3 before Arundolyn took over)? Or if Prev GM didn't have a title? Or if Arundolyn became Lion, then GM, then titled Rostam Wolf himself, officially enshrining him as his most trusted deputy/best knight besides GM (himself)? (<- maybe most likely)

I personally guess it's not enforced as a hard rule of inheritance (could be wrong), and there's probably been Grand Masters who don't have one or got it after, but since it says "would one day", is the current Grand Master expressing their preference for the future. [Speculation] The tradition could have come to prevent the risk of them dying in combat before being able to definitively name their successor, or before the heir they want is qualified, so they name who they want to be put on the career path to succeed them some day? (For example, Arun naming the trusted friend who helps him run the nation as #1 choice to run it in his absence—if we assume *he* gave Rostam the title. Or Jean getting the title at 15, then being put in charge of more and more as she aged) Formally recognizing the person as having those traits and being qualified of character and skill. Then they earn the experience to become one. Even *if* it isn't a hard rule, probably gets dibs if no one else does, is given other opportunities of leadership that would make them next-of-rank like Master Jean and Rostam as his shadow, and probably seen as sus if you try to snatch GM inheritance away from someone "already stamped as suited to it" unless the titled is still very young.

Grand Master is framed by the Fav Sword as something Rostam had the right to experience becoming, but tragically didn't live long enough for the chance. They may or may not have automatic rights to next leadership, but at minimum, socially, citizens probably see it the same way it's framed: something that is supposed to happen for them. They have a hand up getting there, certainly.

Plus, when both Aurndolyn and Rostam died, Venti's ballad implied Mond didn't have a Grand Master. It's possible they didn't have a succession of leadership prepared besides Wolf/Lion, though we can't be sure bc it took out top GM candidates of both Wolf/Lion + Leader/CoLeader + Strongest/2ndStrongest all at once. (Or maybe he just meant the chaos of GM dying was that bad itself, regardless of how fast he was replaced, idk?)

TLDR: yeah Fav Sword says that's tradition. Tradition at minimum from when the history of the Knight of Boreas was smudged and made into a Fav Title (see: Wolf Fang) to 500 years ago. Could be a hard rule or suggestion, or hard rule for some periods of history and suggestion for others. Maybe we'll find out more when Varka shows up.

Well this was a very interesting read! Thanks anon! So I did miss something major lmao (I haven't read many weapon descriptions 😔)

Now I'm wondering if 2 people could have the same title at the same time too. Wouldn't it seem a bit bold to announce Jean as a potential grandmaster candidate while Diluc was already a captain for some time? Or maybe these titles are just mere suggestions after all 🤔 there must have also been a time where both titles werent used. If Diluc didn't quit, I figure there would be a bit of an argument as to who should be the acting grandmaster from the crowds

also, Rostam and Arundolyn are usually compared to Kaeya and Diluc, respectively, right? Gosh, maybe we didn't consider Jean and Kaeya in this situation...

But wait, if their titles are technically "Wolfpup" and "Lion of Light", while it coincides with Knight of Boreas and Lionfang, are we sure we could actually interchange them? Could someone in the knights have already received these titles as well? We don't know Diluc's and Kaeya's titles (imagine if they did get these titles, but these titles are kinda lowkey cursed with one leaving and one staying? new angst idea just dropped...)

Oh! I should also probably clarify that I do agree that Jean and Kaeya are each other's first picks right now. Actually, you know what? I'd go as far as to say whoever in the mond trio became acting grandmaster would be paired with another member of the trio automatically

#kaeyachi asks #thank you for the explanation anon!#my mind is reeling #lionfang knight as a title predates wolf pup and lion of light and thats honestly whats throwing me off too #both lionfang knight and knight of boreas seem more specific to being the knight though #while the titles wolf pup and lion of light sounds like they are the actual wolf and lion #wait an even better idea #these titles arent interchangeable BUT #they always have to be paired together #also varka isnt that young! he had to be old enough to adopt rosaria when she was younger!#so give or take hes in his mid 30s at the youngest #thats roughly a full decade older than our trio #gosh i cant wait for varka to spill

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tokiro07 · 2 years ago

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Cipher Academy ch.42 thoughts

[Enter the Pungeon (Puzzle Dungeon)]

(Contents: New arc speculation, thematic analysis, minor Dekiai/Kogoe analysis)

...Huh, wasn't expecting Zakuroguchi to sit things out, especially since she's the only character who's explicitly stated her intentions for the Morg. That's mighty suspicious, she's definitely doing something shady behind the scenes

I forgot to mention it, but I was in fact expecting Eteshite to be Rikukeito's second. I knew we wouldn't know Yonakiuguisu's second, and while I predicted that Anonymity would be Hakanage's second, I'm not at all surprised to see that it's a supposedly new girl hiding behind the Class F mask. That leaves plenty of room for it to turn out to be Anonymity, but also doesn't necessarily mean that it is. I do think it's rather telling that we can't see any distinguishing features, whereas the other Class F girls at least had some hair sticking out, and her eye shape matches Anonymity almost perfectly even so zoomed out. If it's not her, Nisio and Iwasaki definitely want us to think it could be, which honestly just muddles the possibility more than if they'd reused a name and design from one of the other girls (in which case I'd be convinced it was Anonymity)

I really love the class picture visual; Iwasaki used it during the CLP election to show how Iroha had befriended everyone in the class while Anonymity distanced herself, but while that was the end of the introductory arc, this is the beginning of the real focus of the story as a whole. When you think about it, the Gradewide Leader Tournament was more like a second prologue, as it mainly served to establish the wider cast of the story and their motivations and relationships rather than resolve anything that had already been built up. With that perspective in mind, I almost have to wonder if even this is just set up for something bigger and more thematically central to come?

I won't make that assumption right now, but I think we can be confident that the coming world war that they keep talking about is going to be the payoff to every plotline we've seen and will see going forward, so while the metaverse may be the setting for the bulk of the remainder of the story, this arc specifically is probably just the introduction to that setting rather than the main event

I've talked at length about how the first two arcs lined up with Jump's themes of Effort and Friendship respectively, and how the coming arc would likely focus on Victory. When saying that, I always expressed hesitance since there wouldn't be anywhere to go thematically from there once those were all covered, but now I think I'm starting to get a clearer idea. While this is an expedition team with some level of cooperation to be expected, it's clear that Iroha is not really the leader of this group, and there is going to be internal competition here to decide who's really in charge, which strongly backs up my idea that this is a Victory arc, but once that's done? Well, if this is prologue part 3, then that means that we won't need to find a new theme to latch onto, but rather the true main event will be where Friendship, Effort and Victory finally meet! Iroha's efforts, the friendships he's made, and his hard-earned victories will culminate in his position as Code Emperor, allowing him to work towards his goals with everyone standing firmly behind him

That's not to say new themes won't arise, or that we won't revisit the individual themes one arc at a time, but rather that everything will be synthesized in the actual main story

I wonder if that's part of why Cipher Academy is still so low in the rankings, cus some fans feel it doesn't resolve anything it sets up? They'd be stupid if that's the case, since it's an ongoing story, of course things aren't going to be paid off. One Piece leaves threads dangling for decades, you don't see anyone complaining about that...

I am hoping that now that we're in a new setting with the opportunity for a lot of visual variety that the series should be able to establish more of an identity. That would really help it stand out and connect with readers who aren't already hooked by either the premise or characters, though I suppose that depends on how far it deviates from other VR adventure series like Sword Art Online or the like

I'm pretty excited to see this turn of events, I was worried that the metaverse would just be regular AR with visuals overlaid on the school itself rather than effectively introducing new locations ad infinitum (er...ad five-hundritum?). Literally anything could happen here, and presenting it as a procedural dungeon-crawler (I am NOT calling it a Roguelike and NO ONE, not even Nisio, is gonna make me!!!) is a really fun and novel way to do it! If it's procedural, that implies that players can be booted out and need to restart, so there's got to be a lose condition to worry about, though I guess that's to be expected anyway. I think the bigger questions are how many attempts they'll be allowed to make, how big the consequences of loss are, and most importantly, who's going to lose first? I imagine Iroha's going to lose at least a few times, though probably not until he reaches a much lower level than 1. If I had to guess, his first loss will be with someone at his side to make contextualizing it a bit easier

Do you think any of the puzzles are going to be conceptualized as monsters? This whole thing has a war theme, so maybe we'll see tank dragons or fighter jet gryphons or bullet-casing slimes. Zombie soldiers seem like a given, but that's low-hanging fruit, so I hope we'll get those out of the way and see at least one super-creative one quickly. Ah, but maybe I shouldn't even be speculating about this, it might just be setting myself up for disappointment...Argh, why is Sunday so far away?? Curse me for getting this review done in a timely manner for once!

Anyway, enough speculation about what's to come, let's focus a little more on what's actually in front of us. Dekiai is a super cutie, isn't she? With her heart eyes and literal bubbly personality. I've been wanting to see what made Iroha's Glasses Weapons special for a while, and I think I suspected that he'd have his own AI avatar like Kogoe's CG for a while, but I never was able to think of what she'd actually look like! The watery hair is the biggest surprise, it's so fun to look at!

Hm? Her hair is made of water? And come to think of it, her bangs and mechanical scrunchies look familiar too...Hold on, is Dekiai Kogoe with her ice melted? They both have similar catchphrases too..."can't say that too loudly," "don't say anything rude"...yeah, she could be Kogoe's sister with those looks and personalities. I wonder if perhaps Kogoe modeled the avatars after her family? I could definitely see CG being her grandpa or something

Or maybe she just modeled this one after herself. Whatever the case, I hope the other avatars have equally interesting visual flairs so they don't end up being monotonous

Oh, and fun fact, I looked into it and apparently Dekiai can mean either "ready-made", as in the mass-produced version of the Glasses Weapons, or "adoration/blind love," explaining her heart theme and potentially fitting in with Kogoe's stated goal of getting Iroha to fall in love with her. I bet that's why she gave him this avatar, actually, to help endear herself to him. It'll be so funny if Dekiai joins the harem and becomes competition for Kogoe, I really hope that happens

I think that about covers it for this week. I'm really excited to see how this arc plays out, and I hope that it helps garner a lot more traction going forward. The next chapter is in the back of the magazine reportedly, which I think is absolutely ridiculous; apparently CA was trending in Japan because of this chapter, what business does Jump have putting it so far back? Unless they consider it a strong closer, which is definitely a take I can get behind since I too save it for last every week. I'll tell you, being able to close the app and ruminate on this development was quite the experience for me! Really left me wanting more, which is a great problem to have in a Jump manga! I'll be waiting for it with bated breath!

#cipher academy #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

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aeoki · 1 year ago

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Tri-Lights - The Tower: Chapter 3

Location: Cafe Characters: Sora, Natsume, Tsumugi & Madara

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< Ten minutes later. >

Madara: One hot coffee, please!

Man, it’s been quite cold recently. One cannot miss out on hot drinks in this season ♪

Tsumugi: Thank you for coming, Mikejima-kun.

Who would have thought you’d actually be nearby. It’s great we were able to meet up so quickly.

Madara: Yeah. I didn’t think I’d get a call on my way home from shopping, either.

I was really busy at the end of the year last year, so I was enjoying my rare time off.

I’ve brought gifts for my roommates as well, of course. Sora-san, it’s a bit early but please take this ♪

Sora: Ohh, the socks look so warm. Thank you so much!

Madara: Hehe. I figured they’d look great on you. Socks are always a must-have, right?

Sora: HiHi~♪ That’s true – Sora will wear them tomorrow ♪

Tsumugi: Hehe. See, Natsume-kun? Wasn’t it the right move to call Mikejima-kun?

Natsume: I have zero intentions of falling for that obvious bribiNG.

Madara: Natsume-san, you’re quite harsh towards me sometimes. You can open your heart more when you’re with me, you know? ♪

Natsume: I’m making sure I’m doing the bare minimum at the very least, thouGH.

ActualLY, “Double Face” has been getting along pretty well with CosPro recently, rigHT? I don’t think you can be trustED.

Madara: How absurd. That’s one big misunderstanding.

It’s true I’m part of both “MaM” and “Double Face” but my agency is NewDi. And that’s precisely why I’ve come to lend a hand seeing as “Switch” is in a predicament ♪

Natsume: I wonder if that’s how you truly feel on the insiDE…

WeLL, there’s a reason why you were called to come heRE, so I’ll stop with the complainTS.

AnywAY, you’ve heard why you’re here from Senpai, rigHT?

Madara: Yeah. “Switch” has received a collaboration offer from a sports fashion company and…

Since I’ve got experience being in a sports club, you want some advice, right?

I don’t know if the things I say will be of help to you, but feel free to ask me anything!

Tsumugi: Thank you. Then there’s something I’d like to ask right away.

The company told us they didn’t want magic or fantasy, but something "realistic that refines yourself and makes you shine”.

How would you specifically express that?

Madara: Hmm… Refining yourself, huh. That’s a tall order.

Sora: Yes. That’s why we’re in a pickle~

Natsume: BesidES, what have you been even doiNG? Being wrapped around the other party’s finger by their vague words is something that happens a lot in overseas festivals, righT?

Madara: In my case, I live by the phrase, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do”. I get through with the mindset of going along with the other person’s flow.

Natsume: MeaniNG, you don’t think about anythiNG.

Madara: Well, that’s one way of putting it.

But festivals aren’t something to be enjoyed with logic. It’s the same with performing – there’s the logical part to it, but what’s important at the end of the day is the emotions.

You must dive in first yourself if you’re to bring those emotions out of people. I think what will capture their heart the most is showing them that you’re doing your best.

Tsumugi: I see~ In other words, we should also sweat it out like sports players.

A sport that’s possible in winter… a marathon, I suppose?

Natsume: WhAT? Why a marathON?

Tsumugi: Hehehe. I’m good at long-distance running ♪

I’m actually pretty good at doing things at a steady pace~ I can end up at an unexpectedly nice rank when I just keep on running.

I think they call it a runner’s high? Sometimes, I do end up collapsing and have to be carried to the infirmary once I pass the top ranks, but I’m confident in my running abilities ♪

Natsume: Times are different nOW… You should tell someone or cry out if you’re having a hard tiME. I guess that’s one setback of our current educatiON.

ActualLY, if we’re just supposed to sweat it oUT, then wouldn’t our normal practice sessions be enouGH?

We’d probably catch a cold if we ran in this cold weathER.

Madara: Oh? …Natsume-san, could it be that you don’t enjoy exercising?

Sora: HuHu~ Master prefers staying indoors so it can’t be helped, though ♪

Natsume: UgH… you’re saying I’m an introvert who prefers the indoors toO…?

I just don’t like things such as perseverance or racES – It’s not like I hate exercisiNG.

It’s not a good habit to sort people into grouPS, Sora. It’s “Switch’s” goal to make everyone happy regardless of who they are, rigHT?

Tsumugi: That’s right. It’s fine even if you prefer the indoors! That’s why, Natsume-kun, you should also be more confident in yourself and challen–

Natsume: ĐłɆ.

Tsumugi: Oof!

Madara: Ohh. That was a superb backhand blow.

Natsume-san, there’s no use complaining, you know?

Your mission this time is to refine yourself through sports. I think “Switch’s” reputation will be wounded if you don’t confront it.

Natsume: I’ve already prepared for it mentalLY. But there are plenty of other sports that are more elegant, aren’t theRE?

For exampLE…

Oh, I knOW. Why don’t we go ice skating after thIS?

Sora: Ice skating…!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#tri-lights

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jynxedshapeshifter · 2 years ago

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I can now say I've finished Hazbin Hotel (granted I did like 10 hours ago then went to bed but STILL) so I'm gonna talk about it. I'll split this post into parts based on specific subjects I want to talk about to make it easier. Spoilers for Hazbin Hotel if you haven't seen it obviously.

Concept

I really love the concept of Hazbin Hotel, as well as how that concept is explored throughout the show. For additional context I'm ex-Mormon, so I grew up religious. Episode 6 hit me HARD in the religious trauma. Religious trauma will be another section, because I have a LOT of thoughts on it (especially on episode 6 and You Didn't Know). Anyway, the concept of Hazbin Hotel is something I really like, and it's something that I appreciate.

Character Designs

The character designs in Hazbin Hotel are so much fun tbh. It seems that 3 things affect the appearance of demons once they've died:

What they looked like in life

What they did in life

How they died

For example, Angel and his entire family's appearances are based on spiders because they operated a crime web. Alastor's appearance is based on a deer because of how he died. It's a detail I really really like, but then again I'm also someone who appreciates subtle animal traits in character designs (and Alastor's deer traits are absolutely subtle in his regular form). Also Husk expresses himself with his wings and it makes me want to design a character with wings lmao

Soundtrack

The soundtrack is great. Might have to rank the songs at some point idk. One of the things I love is the different music styles throughout the soundtrack. Loser, Baby feels like classic Broadway, You Didn't Know has rock elements, Out For Love has elements of Latin music, it's just a mix of different genres and I love it. Also I love that Hell's Greatest Dad is just Lucifer fighting with Alastor.

Art

I've always loved Vivziepop's art style. Hazbin Hotel is no different. Very fun and dynamic art style, and incredibly fun to see animated. The color palettes are also really nice; the character color palettes specifically are incredibly consistent across Hell and Heaven (lots of red, pink, and black for the demons, and lots of gold, white, and blue for the angels). I also really like that aside from post-ascension Sir Pentious none of the angels have animal motifs in their designs.

Characters

The character writing doesn't feel inconsistent. It's fun to watch the characters interact. Valentino is absolutely and utterly hateable. Alastor is incredibly fun to watch. I love the choice to give Husk a deep voice because the contrast with the little cat noises he sometimes makes is wonderful (especially his purring which is apparently completely involuntary, which is adorable). Husk's dyamic with Angel is also really nice and I love them.

Religious Deconstruction

Alright so as I said, I'm ex-Mormon (this section is long because of it lol). One of the reasons I love Hazbin Hotel as much as I do is because it deconstructs the hypocrisy I, and many other ex-Christians, talk about. So much of the heaven vs hell stuff I was taught is full of hypocrisy and lacks nuance. This is fully deconstructed in Welcome to Heaven, where Sera says that even she doesn't know what qualifies a soul for heaven (personally, I wouldn't be surprised if there are tons of souls in Hell that qualify but Adam and Lute are/were actively working to keep Hell overpopulated). As Emily and Charlie say during You Didn't Know, "If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie" and if there's no redemption after death, even if you've ended up in Hell for mistakes (as is usually the case from what we see in the show; the only exception I can think of really is Alastor), what's the point?

Like, let's look at some of the sinners that end up at Hazbin Hotel.

Angel Dust was born into a crime family; I wouldn't be surprised if he was threatened into staying, especially because the rest of his family is also mostly in Hell with him, although it is also possible that he stayed by choice. Either way, he was born into that lifestyle, which is entirely out of his control. Did him being born into a mafia doom his soul to Hell? Did his choices effect it? Did his addiction send him to Hell, which is what's largely implied by Adam and Lute? What damned him? I doubt anyone in Heaven or Hell even knows, considering Sera doesn't know what qualifies a soul for Heaven.

Husk grew up in Vegas, specifically in a casino. This alone tells me it's not impossible his gambling addiction developed in life, not after he died. We don't know much about Husk so it'll be interesting to learn more about him, but from what we do know, and given Adam and Lute imply Angel's damnation to Hell was caused by addiction, I wouldn't be surprised if Husk's gambling addiction is what damned him.

Alastor was a serial killer and radio host in New Orleans in life, which is definitely what got him in Hell. The thing that makes Alastor's situation different from Angel or Husk is Angel and Husk seem to have been victims of circumstance; Alastor, unless I'm missing something, was a serial killer to be a serial killer, and fully embraces his status as a demon (whereas Angel and Husk are more or less like "Guess this is where I'm at now").

Sir Pentious ascended to Heaven after sacrificing himself for the friends he'd made at the hotel. He was apparently a Victorian era inventor and villain during life, which is likely what landed him in Hell. The fact that he was an active villain in life but was able to be redeemed is notable, and implies to me that anyone could be redeemed if they wanted to be. I think the difference between Sir Pentious vs Angel Dust and Husk is Angel Dust and Husk aren't in possession of their souls, which likely complicates ascension.

The rules feel incredibly arbitrary, and that's also the vibe I got when I was religious. If lust is a sin, what happens to people who have medical conditions that cause hypersexuality? What happens to people who make mistakes that are "damning" by Christian standards? Everything is so arbitrary. Bringing back the lyrics of You Didn't Know, this describes my experience with Mormonism flawlessly:

If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again

I also want to point out that the sinner demon that Vaggie corners and then lets go in the flashback to the last Extermination she participated in during Welcome to Heaven is a fucking child. Children who die can go to Hell as sinner demons, and the Exorcists will kill them during Exterminations. Some might say "oh, that's in bad taste!" But I actually think it's a good example of further religious deconstruction. As a kid I was taught that if I did anything wrong, I would end up experiencing eternal damnation. Because of how Heaven is in Hazbin Hotel, I'm not at all surprised that some of the sinner demons are children. It also further shows how fucking corrupt Heaven is. Also, on the topic of Heaven's corruption, to everyone like "how the fuck are Adam and Lute still in Heaven???" it's more than likely to show the extent of corruption in Heaven.

(I do want to clarify that I don't think religion, including most denominations of Christianity, is inherently bad. However I do have religious trauma from my time in the Mormon church, and seeing a show deconstruct and criticize the worst parts of Christianity is incredibly comforting.)

#hazbin hotel #review (kind of)#tw religious trauma #hazbin hotel spoilers #fuck how else do i tag this #alastor gets so petty and i love him for it

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quil12 · 3 years ago

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Been slowly replaying P4G now that it's on console and I just got the most important scene

#i legitimately reset the game without saving when i got to rank 7 #because i didnt realize the dialogue option you need to pick to set up the flag for the hug was locked behind a skill check #rank 3 expression in case you were wondering #it had never been a problem for me before so i didnt realize lmao #souyo #persona 4

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lenna-z · 2 years ago

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Hello everyone! Sorry in advance for the erratic updates, I'm typing at turtle speed right now...

I hope you enjoy this fic so far and continue to like it in the future!

Wish you a good day/night!

Previous Chapters: | -1- | -2- | -3-|

What Happened There?

Chap. 4 : Sister

"Don't tell me to calm down! This man has already crossed the line!"

Scott looked up as Gordon's shout made the entire hallway groan. His fish brother wouldn't yell like that for nothing, so he hoped.

Looking in the direction of the elevator, he saw Gordon next to his bodyguard, and Colonel Casey and several people he didn't recognize in front of them.

His head ached to the point of not caring how many there were.

"You can't just come here! I can get someone to get you out!"

The man next to Colonel Casey replied sarcastically. "Try it and we'll see, Tracy."

He got up reflexively, but when he looked the other way, he saw that everyone had already stood up.

"You can't talk to my brother like that," Still, he had to address him properly. At least he would know who he was. "Mr...?"

"Colonel Oliver Martinez." Was this man bragging about his rank as if he had done something good?

"Please note that you are allowed to be here as a courtesy, Colonel." said Colonel Casey coldly.

Casey and that man were clearly on the edge.

"Scott! They said International Rescue was-"

"Gordon, this is something we really need to talk to Scott about."

Gordon didn't seem to agree.

"No! First you hint to the media that you are blaming our sister, and now you come here and for what? To blame International Rescue? Something that concerns International Rescue concerns us all."

"Huh? You call her 'sister', but you're not even related by blood."

That was just too much, this guy had really crossed the line.

He wasn't going to explain it to him, no, one sharp sentence would have sufficed.

"Family isn't about blood ties, Colonel."

Yet another answer followed.

"There is no need to be related by blood to be a family."

But the man's facial expression was still sarcastic, as was his voice. "What? Who told you that, the person whose her uncle was the Hood?"

"Know your place, Colonel! The things Kayo did to keep the Hood from seeing the light of day are indisputable."

At least Colonel Casey was aware of everything.

"I think you have relevant personal ties in this case, Colonel. I don't even have to warn you." Oh, is he going to play like this now?

"Yes, you can, Colonel, right after I report you for abuse of rank. I will ask you to get out of here, Colonel." Every word was spoken calmly. But the coldness in her voice was undeniable.

When the annoying man finally left, Colonel Casey's shoulders slumped noticeably.

"Scott, we really need to talk."

Although he really wondered what was going on, his brother was right. "Gordon is right, Colonel, it concerns them, I can't speak to you separately."

"Well..." She was clearly displeased, which made Scott even more worried.

Oh, and there was also the fact that Gordon was clearly very angry. His brother had his arms folded across his chest, waiting as if he knew what was coming.

"I'm really sorry to break this news, but you should know that International Rescue has been suspended indefinitely. This information has not been shared with the media yet and no one will share it except-"

"What is it based on?" Virgil was calmer than expected.

"Kayo is under investigation. Based on this, every mission including International Rescue will be reviewed."

This time, a murmur of swearing came from his brother behind Colonel Casey. "Oh, so what's on the news is true, you think she's guilty."

"I didn't want it to be like this, Gordon. I really tried, but in the end there was nothing I could do."

Everyone should have realized that Casey was doing her best before this turned into an argument.

"I trust Colonel Casey on this, do you really think someone did this on purpose and it could be her?" There was no answer to that, but there was still a question to be answered. "Colonel, what exactly is Kayo accused of?"

It was like a question she clearly didn't want to answer. Her shoulders drooped even more.

"Adam Smith, Loretta Rodriguez, Benjamin Stewart. Do these names sound familiar?"

All of them were owners of companies with their own surnames. "Company owners. I know them by name."

"Owners of companies closest to Tracy Industries." She took a deep breath. "Scott... you know there are people dying out there. Those company owners were killed there."

This means...

No!

"This is bullshit! Why would Kayo do that?"

"No, she didn't do that."

John and Virgil had figured it out long before he did.

"My daughter wouldn't do such a thing, Colonel."

"Do you realize what you are accusing her of? This is an insult to her and International Rescue." Did she really believe she could kill those people?

Because if the answer was yes, Scott would do anything to never see Colonel Casey again.

"Sorry. There is evidence that I can't tell. But I don't believe that either. It looks like there's something big that we don't see."

She seemed sincere about it.

"I really did everything I could..." She seemed to say it to Kyrano, but to all of them.

"I will ask you for records that you did not send to us, this is unregistered, what you send or not is up to you. There may be something in these recordings to support Kayo's innocence."

It was a difficult request. And he didn't trust GDF.

"John will give you everything about this event." Limiting it to today only made the most sense at the moment.

John was walking restlessly towards the Casey. "Look, Colonel. I'm tired of saying this now, but I sent her there. She didn't do it, and I'll send you those recordings with what I learned to prove it. Remember that she was injured too and why we are here now."

Casey took another deep breath. "How is she?"

"There is still no update. I even forgot how long we've been waiting here."

And as time passed, he began to think for the worst.

"She is strong. She will be fine."

"I'm sure you have more important things to do, Colonel."

"I'll let you know if there's any progress." She looked intensely at Kyrano.

Was there something he didn't know?

A hand touching his shoulder, and when he turned to the owner of the hand, he met aquamarine eyes.

"You did the right thing, Scott. To give all the records would be to throw us all out. She didn't do that, and they won't find anything in those recordings that says otherwise."

If Kayo were here, she would know better what to do.

Every moment he waited here, he was losing hope.

And damn how long had it really been?

"She will be fine."

He didn't want to think about anything else right now. That damn man could say whatever he wanted, the media could report whatever he wanted.

It was their sisters life at stake here. It was the life of the person he saw and valued as his sister.

Who cares about blood ties?

"She's one of the family. It doesn't matter who says what."

"Of course she is, Alan. That man was a presumptuous bastard." Right now he was too much of a headache to care about Gordon's frankness.

All he really cared about was someone coming out of that operating room door.

"So what will we do?"

The answer was simple. "Just leave everything to time."

"Scott, why don't we take a break for some air? Maybe we'll find something for your head, huh?"

This offer from John was especially tempting when he heard about painkillers.

But he didn't want to leave here.

"Come on, Scott, it won't be long."

It was clear from John's tone that how long it would take was up to him.

The sooner he went, the sooner they'd get here.

This reminded him of Virgil when they first arrived.

With just a nod of his head, he started towards the elevator.

○○○○○○

"Mr. Tracy! How nice to see you again! How can I help you?"

No. Same nurse. Guess they called him Des.

He didn't want her near him, not now, not ever.

How could they get rid of her?

As brazen as she was, neither Scott nor he could have done what she did.

Or Scott could do it right now because he was taking a deep breath.

"Des? We have received information that a new emergency has arrived, can you prepare?"

Thank god someone else took care of it instead.

"This is Desire. Yes I am interested in. With your permission, Mr. Tracy."

Oh please, was Scott the only Tracy here?

As that nurse was leaving, another familiar face was approaching them.

Scott didn't seem to notice.

"This time I was really close to doing anything. She acts-"

"Scott." At the warning, Scott fell silent.

Despite his efforts, the other nurse had heard about it. Her eyes were looking at them with understanding. "Whatever you say, you're right, I'm really sorry."

The nurse was indeed more understanding than the other.

"What brings you here again?"

Again? Was she there when Scott brought Virgil here?

"This is my head..."

At least he was still good enough to explain his problem.

"I hope it's a good thing it's not one of your brothers who needs help this time." And then her eyes opened like a frightened cat. "I didn't mean- I mean-"

"Oh, it's contagious, when one of us is bad, the other's are bad too." After John's attempt at comfort, her eyes seemed to have calmed down, but she was still looking hesitant.

"Including her, she's like our sister."

He seemed to emphasize the word 'sister' in particular. He understood why, and he was still angry with that man.

The nurse asked for a few seconds to get some necessary tools, and he turned his gaze to his brother with concern. No one was really talking downstairs, and when they did, it didn't seem to put anyone at ease.

He found Scott still staring at the woman. He wasn't sure if he was really looking, because of the headache, it was like he was just immersed.

Since the nurse didn't come in with just one medicine, Scott was startled, glanced at everything, including the blood pressure monitor she had brought with her, and then looked at the nurse uneasily.

"I don't want to stay here for long."

He wanted to be downstairs...

And then he gave John a quick, angry look.

"Scott, be nice to the nurse, she's just doing her job."

When the help he asked for didn't come from John, he turned back to the her.

"Please nurse-"

"I'm not a nurse, Mr. Tracy and-" She turned to address John, but was instantly silent.

Oh, finally someone realizes that Scott isn't the only Tracy here.

"This is John." He said in a gentle voice.

He hated being called Mr. Tracy just as much as Scott.

"And this is Scott, please. Sorry I didn't ask your name."

And she turned back to Scott again.

"Ava. I'm the doctor in charge of the emergency today." So that was the reason for so many encounters. But still, why was she wearing a nurse outfit? "As for why I'm wearing a nurse's outfit, it's a long story..."

"I think we have time for that." Said Scott, looking at the tools she had brought with her.

○○○○○○

I would love to know what you think!

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #gordon tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #colonel casey #lenna writes #what happened there?#kayo kyrano

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dbgdbw · 3 years ago

Text

233화

Hyung’s Here (2)

For a split second, I nearly lunged for the Guard’s collar. Hands clenched into fists, I forced down my emotions. All I’d done was make a conjecture based on the Skill attributes, and there was a chance that Alpha wasn’t my dongsaeng. And even if it happened to be Yoohyunie, it might not necessarily be that the situation was that serious. It might’ve just been the disorientation of suddenly landing in an unfamiliar place, that made him cause a bit of a ruckus.

After all, they’d said safely subdued, and securely moni… Goddammit. In any case, it meant that he was at least secure. To begin with, Yoohyunie hadn’t done anything wrong here. It would be alright.

…even as I repeated that mantra over and over, my mind was already preoccupied with tallying up all the Items and points I had left, and the list of items the Point Shop had in its catalog. No, I couldn’t act rashly. First, I needed to verify whether Alpha really was Yoohyunie or not. I needed to calm down.

“Thank you very much, for escorting me. If it’s alright, could I ask for an additional favor? I’d like to sell an A-rank Item, but seeing as how it’s my first time in Achates City, I’m a bit worried that I might end up getting scammed, you see. In exchange for a brokerage fee, I was wondering if you could make the sale in my place.”

Hearing since you’re a Guard, won’t you know the ins-and-outs, and that I would even offer them 5% of the sale, the B-rank Guard brightened. Once I passed over several of the A-rank shortswords I’d packed, they placed a call somewhere, and in a flash, everything had been seen to. When I mentioned that I didn’t have a card, they also set up a new cash card for me. Minus the fee, it came out to 3 million L. So, the currency used was the same. The B-rank Guard, who had gained 150,000L–close to 200,000 won–beamed, and let me know where a decent hotel, restaurants, and et cetera could be found.

“Coincidentally–I happen to possess specialized support-type Skills, would it be possible for me to find work at the Defense Association?”

“A supporter Guard from Medsang would certainly be welcomed anywhere. If you submit an immigration request at the Defense Administration, they will arrange a time for the mana seal modification procedure.”

Telling me that I could contact them at any time if I needed to sell any more items, or if I needed any other help, the B-rank Guard went so far as to give me their contact information before they left.

Though I was within the inner city, and not a far distance from the Defense Association, Achates felt smaller when compared with Solemnis. Even so, as befitting a main street, buildings towered high above, and there were many people around. Riding my scooter, I followed the road. I was exhausted, sleep-deprived, and hungry, but I headed to the Achates City Defense Association first. On the way, I re-fueled the scooter as well.

Arriving at the Defense Administration’s Civil Services Office, I took a queue number. Before long, it was already my turn.

“Hello, I am a specialized support Guard, from Medsang.”

As I presented my ID along with my introduction, the worker showed a slightly surprised expression.

“I was thinking of requesting a transfer over to the Achates City Defense Association.”

“Ah, certainly. We will connect you with the higher-ups shortly. Please wait for just a moment.”

So far, things were progressing smoothly. Before long, a man dressed in a suit appeared. He was a D-rank Awakened, with an ordinary sized mana pool. Was it that his support Skill was outstanding, or had it been that his mana seal engravement had failed.

“How do you do, Han Yoojin-ssi. I am the one in charge of the Achates City Defense Association’s support Guards, Dasple.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Let us head inside.”

Dasple, who had introduced himself as the coordinator over the support Guards, led me deeper into the civil services department. Once we were seated on the reception room sofas, tea was served. Dasple, who was sitting across from me, showed an amiable smile.

“That Achates City has a reputation for its less than favorable treatment towards Guards, is something we are well aware of.”

…what? It felt like I’d taken a blow to the back of my head. To elicit that kind of confessional ‘self-deprecation’, how damning did those rumors actually run. The strain it took to force a smile on my face, as my expression automatically began to distort, caused the area around my mouth to tremble faintly.

“Rumors always do tend to exaggerate.”

“Well said. Furthermore, support-type Guards are different from combat-type Guards, no. Truth be told, there are many dangerous elements that exist amongst combat-type Guards. And most recently, as a result of Alpha Overloading, one of the business districts went up entirely in flames.”

“I imagine the damages must have been quite significant. I’ve heard the gist of it, as well.”

“Thankfully, there were no casualties, but the property damage sustained was a staggering amount. As a result of that, it appears the length of time Alpha spends under confinement will be lengthened as recompense.”

Confinement, was it. This time, the smile I drew forth came naturally. Even though we’d only spoken briefly, I could more or less grasp the general shape of the way they went about shackling the combat-type Guards.

‘Is all the blame for the damages sustained in battle, shifted solely on the Guard.’

Not only when it was an Overload situation, but even under normal circumstances, like when dealing with a monster. Coercing Guards–Hunters–through debts, that kind of thing was commonplace. I’d experienced it myself, too. A rental fee for equipment, repair expenses, potion costs, Dungeon fees, et cetera. Inflating the amount owed was ludicrously easy.

They probably employed the same sort of tactics here. And there might yet be other means being used to control them, besides. Like family. Or, perhaps, by the way of a seal.

“It’s a relief, that I shouldn’t encounter that kind of thing as a support-type.”

I gave an exuberant smile. Dasple smiled as well.

“Of course. The restrictions placed are also far lighter. The combat-types, well, those lot are a ticking time bomb, even with both hands and feet tied. With great strength, they must take proportional responsibility. A matter of ‘basic human decency,’ you could say.”

For someone who was dependent on that strength for protection, he sure was talking a lot of shit.

Being afraid of high-rank Awakened, was understandable. Honestly, that would be the typical reaction. When it was already so that, even a bigger and well-built ordinary human could intimidate others by just adopting a hard expression, it was only to be expected that an Awakened with the ability to demolish a building with only their bare hands would naturally command fear. That was why, over on our side, we’d endeavored to improve the public’s perception of Hunters from the onset.

But irrespective of that–if you wanted to receive the protection and safety provided by the Awakened, then it only followed that you should also be willing to provide them with the corresponding reception. Wasn’t that what ‘basic human decency’ actually entailed. To people who hadn’t even asked to be born like that, to tell them that, because they were stronger than others, they needed to ‘take responsibility’ and work in servitude, this piece of shit.

“Our Achates City considers the citizens’ safety to be of the utmost priority. In times like these, the most important thing is safety, wouldn’t you agree. As a result, we may have a touch more constraints in place than the other cities, but one must consider how freedom is a luxury that requires one to be alive to pursue, foremost.”

Apparently under the impression I already had a grasp on the general situation, he didn’t hesitate to go on.

“In truth, it may very well be that the combat-type Guards have cause to feel discontent. However, we’re confident that the satisfaction felt by our support and healer-type Guards will not fall behind that of any other cities. I presume Han Yoojin-ssi came to this place already aware of this.”

“I’d certainly heard as much. That’s why, upon arriving in the city, I made coming by the Defense Association my first priority, like so.”

“Ha ha, of course. Additionally, Han Yoojin-ssi hails from Medsang City. As Medsang’s Mu-nim’s affection for her affiliate Guards is well-known, no one will dare to act rashly against you.”

The more I heard it mentioned, the more curious I became about Medsang, too. It seemed like a place where support, healing-oriented Guards were particularly valued. …that Newcomer, couldn’t he have just dropped all of the kids in Medsang instead. It wouldn’t be that Yerimie and Noah had ended up somewhere with a hostile reception as well. And I really couldn’t even begin to imagine how Peace might be doing. The adults, Sung Hyunjae and Moon Hyuna, I wasn’t too concerned about.

Particularly Sung Hyunjae; that prick was the type to live and eat well no matter where he ended up.

In contrast to my inner turmoil, the atmosphere was light and cheerful. We held a brief exchange over the terms of the contract as well.

“I will impart detailed information regarding my Skill after a final decision has been made. For now, I’ll at least disclose that it’s a Skill of a caliber that allowed me to travel to Achates City on my lonesome, despite C-rank stats.”

“I must admit, I’m eager to hear what rank it might be. Though perhaps they didn’t range as high as SS-rank, but I imagine you would have come across at least S-rank monsters on multiple occasions.”

“I did, several times.”

Dasple pulled a supremely shocked expression. Saying things like how he would expect no less from a Medsang City native, he didn’t hesitate to shower me in commendations.

“We will hasten the preparations for the mana seal alteration procedure as well, as much as possible.”

“Ah, before that.”

I swallowed once, my mouth dry. Struggling to calm my emotions as much as I could, I continued speaking.

“Would it be possible for me to check in on Alpha’s condition? Truth be told, hearing about the Overloading incident made me feel quite troubled. It made me consider changing courses to another city, even. Though I’d heard on my way here that he was being securely monitored, I would still like to verify it with my own eyes.”

“I can empathize completely. I feel apprehensive every so often, as well.”

The bastard nodded emphatically.

“Permission must be granted by the higher-ups, first, but I imagine that it should be quite possible. If we were to know Han Yoojin-ssi’s Skill’s rank, at least, it may become easier to secure clearance as well.”

“In that case, I’ll disclose one of the lower-ranked Skills I possess. Dasple-ssi is D-rank, with an ordinary-sized mana pool. Isn’t that so?”

Dasple’s eyes grew wide.

“Is it a specialized Skill that allows you to learn the other’s rank and mana capacity?”

“Yes. I’m able to see the mana and health pool of those up to S-rank, and up to SS-ranks for verification of rank. It’s an immensely useful Skill, in many ways. During battle, as well as in day-to-day operations.”

“If that’s one of the lower-ranked Skills… Understood. I fully expect that there will be no issues with permission being granted.”

“When would the verification be possible, approximately?”

“As Han Yoojin-ssi is still technically an outsider, entry into the building proper should be granted once the sun has set.”

Having been asked to return around sunset, I left the reception room. I felt faintly nauseated. The exhaustion I’d already been experiencing weighed even heavier, like it’d been waterlogged. Even as I thought to myself that it might not be my dongsaeng, I had a negative feeling.

There was still plenty of time left before the sun would set. In an attempt to soothe my heart, I went looking for more information regarding Alpha. Unlike Sigma, most of his profile information was publicly available.

‘Twenty-six years old, Awakened four years ago after receiving the Baptism. Barring his father, the rest of his family is deceased.’

Upon hearing that the father was still alive, I felt a bit peculiar. There was a photograph included among the reference materials. The black hair was the same as Yoohyunie, but both eyes were red. Not as a result of Irin’s influence, but rather an attribute he’d possessed from the onset.

‘...on that note, I wonder what’s happened to Rinie.’

Did they have elementals here, in this world. Though I didn’t know if he’d even made it in, to begin with.

Alpha was an immensely good-looking young man as well, but still looked markedly different from Yoohyunie. It was definitely a different person, without any room for confusion. Seeing that, I felt a touch relieved.

‘In the first place, since it’s supposed to be a different person from a different world, someone like Sigma who looks the same, would’ve been an outlier.’

And that Sigma hadn’t been Sung Hyunjae, either. Yeah, it could be someone other than Yoohyunie.

Leaving the Defense Association building, I headed to a nearby hotel. Entering the hotel restaurant, I ordered some food, but couldn’t dredge up any semblance of an appetite. Unable to entertain the thought of eating, despite feeling hungry, I was pushing my salad around with a fork, when. 반짝, a sub-quest twinkled into view.

[ Square Meals Are Important

To be healthy, one must eat well & heartily instead of starving! Please enjoy at least half of the prepared food on the table.

Rewards: Chocolate-flavored high-rank mana potion x2 ]

What’s with this quest. A huff of laughter escaped, unbidden. When mana potions were so expensive, to be giving away two high-rank ones, the reward far outstripped the quest’s difficulty. I had no choice but to comply, then, it seemed.

‘Though, why chocolate-flavored.’

It brought that prat to mind. The taste had been nice, at least. Once I began eating, the rest went down easier. Consequently, I was able to clean my plate and receive the potions as a reward. Filling my stomach had made me drowsy in turn, and I didn’t have anything else to do until sundown. Heading up to my hotel room, I showered and laid down. Before long, sleep overtook me.

“Sir, sir! Get up, please!”

It wasn’t enough to call out to me–I opened my eyes as I was additionally shaken awake. A hotel employee was standing beside my bed. Were they allowed to just barge in like this without permission.

“The sun will be setting soon. Please move to the hotel shelter area.”

Hotel shelter? Was there a separate shelter within the hotel. Then again, if a hotel lacked that feature, it did seem unlikely that they’d be able to stay in business. I figured that a hotel shelter should probably be wider and better furnished than a publicly accessible shelter, too. The lodging fee that I’d thought had been more expensive than it should’ve been, it might’ve been an additional shelter fee.

Telling them that I needed to go by the Defense Association, I departed from the hotel. The streets, blanketed in a thick layer of darkness, were desolate. There were hardly any people still walking around, and the buses all had their signs flashing displays indicating that they were on their last lap.

Riding the scooter, I headed towards the Defense Association. The Civil Services office had already closed its doors. Once I was escorted inside by a security guard, a familiar face appeared, accompanied by another Awakened.

“Welcome back, Han Yoojin-ssi. This is Alpha’s lead handler, Mindiva.”

Dasple provided introductions for the man standing next to him. Solemnis too–the people here seemed to have three-character(1) names, without a separate surname. Extending a pleasantry, Mindiva led the way.

“Even for SS-rank Awakened, a depletion of mana will result in the loss of consciousness. Currently, Alpha has been placed within a mana absorbing rune that is connected to the Mana Hole. So long as the mana absorbing rune remains active, there is no chance that he will wake, as it were.”

Most assuredly secure. Saying so, he stepped into the elevator and, pressing the button for the lowest floor, held up a card key. So, was it that you couldn’t even get to the floor with the Mana Hole without a card key. It would likely be located in the basement, and there was a high chance that there wouldn’t be any stairs altogether.

I could always purchase another Universal Key, but for the time being, I took note of the key.

“He may be immensely docile for the time being, but keeping our valuable Alpha sedated like this isn’t a viable course of action, either. Subsequently, a mana seal modification procedure was performed.”

“...modification?”

“Yes. It was a procedure intended to link his mana seal with a select few others, which would enable them to forcibly drain Alpha’s mana. So they might be able to subdue him as necessary at any point, if Alpha were to lose control again. Only, because the efficacy of the protection seal is sharply decreased in the process, there is a high likelihood of him becoming endangered when confronting a monster with a mana-absorbing Skill–but I’m afraid we were left with no choice.”

He mentioned that, once Alpha had calmed down completely, it would be reverted back to normal.

“Of course, as a precaution against another Overload, the procedure would take place after enough high-rank mana absorbing Items had been prepared in advance. We cannot let our guard down, of course.”

…in other words, in his current condition, Alpha was capable of being easily taken down at any moment. If, perhaps, it really did happen to be that Alpha was Yoohyunie, the situation wouldn’t be resolved with just a simple rescue. Since even going up against a monster would become a liability.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened. Like in Solemnis, a few similar security checks were conducted in succession.

“The biggest issue we’ve been dealing with at present has been the cognitive dissonance Alpha seems to be displaying. There was no hyung in Alpha’s family, you see.”

“...a hyung, you said?”

“Yes. Of course, we cannot say for certain that it was in reference to a chin-hyung; but neither is there anyone who fits the bill of a ‘hyung’ that he would seek so desperately, among his relationships(2). While there is a possibility that he might have hidden him away, in order to avoid him being used as a weakness, taking the abrupt Overload into account, the chances of cognitive dysregulation has been judged to be more likely.”

…it was a struggle to repress the surge of anger that threatened to burst out. A hyung. He’d been looking for hyung. I couldn’t tell myself that it might not actually be him anymore. My insides had gone cold, to the point that it ached. It felt like my stomach was turning. The force with which I unconsciously clenched my teeth, caused pain to radiate down my jaw.

Calm down. If I caused a scene at this point, it would just make things worse. When even just a simple rescue would be difficult, it was further complicated by the issue of the seal. Instead of pointlessly rousing their guard, I needed to pretend to cooperate as much as I could for now, and assess the situation.

“He’s this way. Following the seal modification surgery, he was placed into a sturdier containment chamber, and the mana absorbing array’s strength was also reinforced through the increased proximity to the Mana Hole. As the walls here receive the Mana Hole’s Blessing, even an SS-rank Awakened will find it difficult to break through. As proximity to the Mana Hole directly correlates with the strength of the augmentation, at current, even if Alpha were to wake completely, he would be unable to escape from this containment chamber.”

…how disgustingly thorough. If it was to that extent, then it seemed like even the Dragon’s Breath bombs would prove to be useless. The containment chamber was divided into two separate areas. To step inside, there was an additional door you needed to get through. In order to open that inner door, the card key was a mandatory requirement, as well as facial recognition using a biometric scanner, and another input besides.

Finally, the door opened, and we stepped inside. In the middle of the room, a sprawling expanse of runes stretched out in my sight. At the center of that faintly glowing absorbing array, laid an unconscious young male.

His arms were forced behind his back, of course, and his legs were firmly secured as well. There was a gag inserted in his mouth, and his eyes were covered, too. A line from the IV drip set up next to his position led down to his neck, where it pierced through the skin. Unceasingly, the unidentifiable drug was continually injected into Alpha.

As I unconsciously began to move towards him, Mindiva stopped me.

“You should not approach the mana absorbing array. It will drain all of your mana in an instant, causing you to faint. The Items you have equipped may also fail.”

…so Awakened couldn’t even approach it at all, nor could you use Items, was it. Moreover, it was impossible to break open the room itself, too.

Beset by anxiety, I carefully examined the fallen Alpha. His eyes were hidden out of sight, but even then.

‘...Yoohyun-ah.’

He was different from the Alpha I’d seen in the photos. It wasn’t that he was identical to my dongsaeng, but he resembled him more. More than Alpha, he definitely resembled Yoohyunie. We’d been together all our lives, perpetually, from the moment my dongsaeng had been born. There was no way I would be mistaken.

“...Alpha’s appearance, seems a bit different from the photographs.”

“Is that so? Since it was a photo, that may certainly feel like the case. To myself, he looks to be the same.”

In what way did they appear the same. Even the physique was different. It seemed that, to the people here, Yoohyunie… took on the original Alpha’s appearance. I exhaled deeply. The inside of my throat felt like it was turning to ash. I wanted to run to him immediately.

Fuck, what the hell did they think they were doing. Even though, I’d brought him up with such care. Even if it might not be his actual body. To be treating, like that.

“...you mentioned that Alpha was experiencing cognitive dysfunction?”

“Yes. It’s for that reason that the liquid medication is presently being administered. We are also in the process of negotiating with another city for access to a Guard with a high-rank cognition-manipulating Skill.”

“One of the Skills I possess is of a cognitive type.”

“Ah?”

“It only amounts to being able to calm the target, but it is effective up to SS-rank. It was thanks to that, that I was able to easily evade the monsters on my journey here.”

I looked back at Mindiva. I wanted to smash a fist into his surprised expression. It would only be all too easy for me to sink a knife into his neck, right now, this very moment; it was difficult to hold myself back.

“As I wonder whether I might be able to be of assistance, if it’s alright, might I conduct a test with Alpha as the subject?”

“Ah, right now, did you mean?”

“Yes. If it proves to be successful, then I imagine that the terms of the contract will also change significantly.”

I smiled. The bastard mirrored my smile.

“At present, he shouldn’t be able to resist overmuch with the drugs in his system, but there is still the chance that the situation may become dangerous.”

“If I were that incapable, I would hardly have been able to make it here on my lonesome.”

Saying that my words did have merit, the bastard told me that the preparations would be completed in short order. Before long, more people filed into the room. There were even two S-rank Guards mixed in among their ranks.

“We will be deactivating the mana absorbing array. Please stand by.”

Following a complicated series of inputs, the light went out in the array engraved on the floor. As I immediately made to move towards Alpha, the body that had been motionlessly slumped on the ground began to struggle. Unmistakably violently, his entire body wrenched.

“It’s alright!”

I quickly shouted. Simultaneously, Alpha’s–Yoohyunie’s–movements ceased. It really does work, I heard someone exclaim from somewhere. Frantically approaching Yoohyunie, I fell to my knees on the floor, curling my body down.

“...it’s alright.”

A body, trembling minutely, and the sound of uneven breathing, as though it’d grown rough in excitement(3). In order to keep him from startling at the sudden touch, carefully, I loosened his blindfold. An eye that had been closed drifted open. The crimson eye focused on me. His eye–clouded over, from what was possibly the drug’s influence–grew wet at once.

I extended my arms. I pulled my dongsaeng into my embrace.

* * *

(1) hangul syllables

(2) why the other possibility mentioned by the achates personnel was that the ‘hyung’ alpha is looking for might not be a blood relative, but a different ‘close older male’ instead, re:significance of 친형(chin-hyung) vs 형(hyung)

^just sub 오빠/누나 w/ 형

(3) one of the fun things in the text is geunseo’s intentional phrasing, like the specific words chosen to describe the scene here:

흥분 → “excitement” → to be (emotionally) aroused → ‘grown rough from arousal’

directory post has been updated with a link to interest check doc at the top, since there’s a lull between ch234~238 where i might replace a ch or two.

how to increase your chances of survival in a crowd crush. stay safe everyone

#233화 #the s classes that i raised #tsctir #sctir

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missyedits · 3 years ago

Text

Stray Kids Undercover Cop x Mafia AU

Genre: Police/Mafia, Fluff

Characters: Chan, Changbin, Jeongin

Summary: A collection of small excerpts from a fic idea I’m working on with a friend for a Stray Kids Uncover Cop Mafia AU. These scenes are from Chan’s initial job as a cop working in the precinct with troubled teens. These may not get included but I wanted to see if anyone was interested in the idea.

So it wasn’t a surprise to Chan when he opened the file on his desk to find the face of a boy no older than 15 or 16 staring up at him, hair a curled mess atop his head and eyes round with barely concealed fear.

“Yang Jeongin.” Changbin announced, stretching as he moved to stand in front of his desk. Chan sat back, arms folded as he waited for the inevitable info dump to follow.

Detective Inspector Seo Changbin’s placement in their team was an odd one. Such a high ranking officer had no business sitting in a small office with a team of fresh-faced graduates and Chan, dealing with the ragtag miscreants that managed to land themselves a night in a cell. But Changbin had been stationed in this section for years; his one and only response to any questioning that he was there to watch for any signs of advanced dealings amongst low level criminals and pass it on to the higher ups.

If the numerous classified files that passed his desk each day and the elusive meetings that he seemed to disappear off to at random times were any tell, this was another poorly kept lie. Unfortunately, despite being a long term friend of Changbin’s and at the age and experience of deserving the same rank, Chan was equally as unworthy of this information as every other snooping individual in the precinct.

Chan watched as Changbin perched himself comfortably on Chan’s desk, expression relaxed with the knowledge that no one in the room had the ability to demand of him otherwise. His arms were folded across his chest, however, a clear indicator to Chan that whatever the case was, he was to look at it seriously.

Chan scrutinised the man, lips pursed.

Fortunately, it seemed, none of the usual tension that suggested any of the information Chan would try to pry out of this case would be ‘classified’ was present. Chan placed his coffee down.

“A minor, 16-years old.” Changbin started, tapping the face of the young boy on his desk. “Came in 3 o’clock last night. A new face in this precinct and yet somehow he was found to be parading around with a group of repeat offenders 3 years his senior.”

Chan’s eyebrows raised, scrutinising his friend with unrestrained suspicion. 3am? Interrogation should have started an hour ago then.

Chan wondered what ailment this kid had that meant Changbin had waited the extra hour for Chan to arrive rather than assign him to anyone else on the team.

“The rest of his friends have been carted off to the young offenders team to serve another week’s community service before they are inevitably let off the hook to reoffend again.”

Chan grimaced.

It wasn’t unknown that Seoul Police Force didn’t have the resources or the time to be dealing with young kids committing petty crimes. This was a fact that hadn’t changed in decades. If that meant the same kids visiting their office week in, week out only to be let off scot-free time and time again, then so be it. It wasn’t the higher ups’ problem.

“What I want you to do is to talk to this Yang Jeongin and find out why neither we, nor the kid, have received any frantic calls from a parent whose child has been missing from their home for upwards of 12 hours.”

Ah. An abuse case. Typical.

Chan sighed, staring down at the wide-eyed teen with furrowed eyebrows. Neglected kids who ended up joining with gangs and taking part in their acts of delinquency to fit in weren’t exactly uncommon in this precinct - or any really. But it was hard to prove. Chan could only hope that he could get the kid to slip up and admit something damning or, despite Chan’s best efforts, he’d be sending another lonely child back to a broken household.

Changbin’s sympathetic stare as he processed the information was just this side of too much. Chan waved him off, picking up the file to get a better read on the situation.

—

“What’s he doing?” Jeongin asked. Chan sighed, looking away from the form for child services he was filling out to face the boy.

Unexpectedly, the moment Chan finally turned to face him, Jeongin’s face lit up with a grin. Eyes curving into crescents, he nodded towards where Changbin was sat.

Chan blinked, staring at the boy.

He had not been expecting to see excitement in his eyes.

Often kids who passed through his precinct were known to ask questions. Those questions, however, were usually half-assed attempts at pissing him off.

The shine to the boy’s eyes was telling.

Chan decided to humour him, looking over to the man in question.

“I imagine he’s probably trying to sort out finally getting those kids you were hanging out with a real punishment,” Chan started, tone reprimanding. The teen winced, ears tinting red, and the older man took pity on him.

“After that, he’ll probably start working on the case file on his desk.”

Chan neglected to mention the bold red letters across the top of the folder.

The kid however, didn’t have quite the same tact. “Oh! Classified?” He asked, a touch too loud, and Changbin’s head shot up.

The teen gulped as the man’s glare levelled on him, grabbing the file in question and slamming it out of view.

Jeongin was sheet white by the time Changbin turned back to his work. Chan fought the urge to laugh at his misery.

“Let’s perhaps keep our observations to ourselves,” Chan suggested mildly and the teen slumped in his chair, avoiding eye contact.

Jeongin’s reason for being there flashed in Chan’s mind and he frowned. Gently, he nudged the boy’s shoulder.

“Let me finish this form for you and I’ll show you some bits around the office that you can look at, yeah?”

The kid nodded, still startlingly quiet, but marginally less sullen. Chan took that as a win.

—

There was a pause as the kid looked around, eyebrows furrowed, before he leaned into Chan.

“Why don’t they talk to you?” Jeongin asked bluntly.

In lieu of an answer, Chan gestured towards one of the little pins stuck conspicuously on the cork board beside his desk.

It took a couple seconds of blankly staring at the pink, purple, and blue of the flag before understanding dawned in the teen’s eyes, a frown taking over his face.

“Oh,” he said, voice now tinged with sadness. “You’re bi.”

Chan hummed, facing back towards his desk. It didn’t bother him anymore; the way that they treated him. He was used to it.

For some reason, however, it clearly seemed to upset the kid. Chan put on his best smile.

“Not all of the people here are like that, though. For example, Changbin. He always looks out for me.” The kid looked over at his coworker, a brief flicker of emotion Chan could only describe as relief visible across his features.

One of Chan’s eyebrows lifted in amusement. Ah.

Tugging the pin out of the board, he pressed it into an unsuspecting Jeongin’s hand. The teen jumped, turning to look down at the object now in his grip.

“Keep it,” Chan said gently. “I have about 20 at home.”

#kpop #stray kids #skz #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fanfic #i.n fanfic #jeongin fanfic #changbin fanfic #chan fanfic #kpop fanfic #mafia au #skz mafia au #staycompany #staysource #createskz #skz as fanfics #missyedits

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pagingdoctorcarter · 4 years ago

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(art by @rcrisdraws)

AT LAST! It is done.

After ten months, and 200 000+ words I have at last finished my Year on the Run fic chronicling Satine's rise to power, and her romance with Obi-Wan.

It's been a huge part of my life, and I will get to the comments that so many wonderful people have left for me (seriously, the love and depth of engagement people have expressed for this fic has BLOWN ME AWAY. I'm forever grateful for that incredible support!!!) but in the meantime, let me say THANK YOU to everyone who has read along, and encouraged me, and held my hand.

Special thanks especially, to @treescape who listened to EVERY SINGLE chapter breakdown, discussed character motivations and arcs, pointed out holes and found solutions, and was really a guiding light the whole way through.

Thanks also to @pomiar and @the-last-kenobi who listened to be kvetch for WEEKS. Pom, who helped and still helps me figure out how to make it function as a complete novel, who was never afraid to point out something that was out of character, or demand much needed explanations for things that weren't always clear. Her vision is just SO acute and insightful! And TLK whose undying enthusiasm pushed me to the finish line. She's always eager to hear more, full of encouragement, and her utter faith in me was exactly what I needed.

The biggest thanks of all to the Obitine discord, and the wonderful people there. I wrote this to convince @duchess-of-mandalore that we don't need canon, to try and give @the-obiwan-for-me something HALF as wonderful as her fic (SSTW) gave to us, to make @mg024 laugh, and cry, and astonish her as much as she manages to astonish me. And for everyone else there who has been with me. It's for you!!!

You can find the whole thing HERE

And now, because I love process, here are some behind the scenes tidbits...just in case you were curious.

There really is nothing known canonically about "The Year on the Run" except:

1. It was "an extended mission when I was younger. Master Qui-Gon and I spent a year on Mandalore, protecting the Duchess from insurgents who had threatened her world. They sent bounty hunters after us. We were always on the run, living hand to mouth, never sure what the next day would bring."

2. They were attacked by venomites on Draboon

3. Obi-Wan carried Satine when they first met, and he dropped her which resulted in her getting a scar.

That's literally the entirety of what we know.

So, I had to expand on it A LOT.

The whole fic is a re-imagining of The 12 Labours of Hercules. What I didn't know when I started is there is no modern consensus on the morals/meanings of each task, so I had to do a bunch of research to find the most consistent interpretations, and then fill in the rest myself.

The hydra is represented by the nine bounty hunters that chase them the whole way throughout.

By rank: Aden Kast (meaning: wrath) - died by own hand Pre Vizsla - defected Jaro Spar (meaning: death wish) - arrested Bann Dryden (meaning: refuse) - killed by Qui-Gon Prudi Saxon (meaning: shadow) - deserted Paak Saxon (meaning: salt) - killed by Aden Kast Mirala Chorn (meaning: thoughtful) - disappeared Kyric Eldar (meaning: kill/end/death) - banished by DW Trikan Kelborn (meaning: sorrow) - killed by Bralor

Extra bonus: Hercules is eventually killed by the poisonous blood of the hydra, and so, this task is one that kind of defeats him. Pre Vizsla is that poison in Only Hope. He sides with Satine here out of cunning, ambition, and self-preservation, but later is her ruin.

Satine's big thing is pacifism, and it was important to me in telling this story that pacifism not be confused with passivity. And so, I spent a lot of time researching how pacifism as an ideology can be made practical. Of course, I looked to Gandhi.

Using the three pillars of pacifism, I expanded on them within the text to demonstrate just *how* Satine makes this ideology work. Mandalorians are warriors, and she is no different. Only she battles hate, fear, and prejudice instead of people.

Beyond the political philosophies at play, I also spent a lot of time translating things into Mando'a. At the beginning of the story, Obi-Wan does not speak the language, so until he learns it, his POV chapters were FULL of fluent Mando'a.

This meant that I had to make up a ton of idioms, mottos, and myths to fill out the world of Mandalore. Things like these:

I also made up war songs, and beer hall anthems:

Of course, sung by Obi-Wan

And new gods for the old Mandalorian religion:

And about a MILLION Mandalorian names: Nur, Naani, Jori Ast'Atin, Haati be'Murtin, Bralor, Paak & Prudi, Iviinya, Kih'sol, Ta-Ciryc, Bu'ataaka, Rang, Kyric, Trikan, Gamnyn, Kut, Bora-Gaan, and on and on.

And a million cities: Dalabiik, Meshurok, Chorus, Amancitia, Pohja, Jiilma, Antioch the Needles, blah blah blah

And a million words: kalesera, etyc'baar, bo'aka, koryai, etc.

And of course, it wouldn't be a SW story without a ton of Obi-Wan whump.

(art by the incredible @kyber-erso)

Anyway. That's all for now. Thank you everyone for your interest, and love, and support!

- tess

#fic that i did #obitine #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #year on the run #jedi positivity #mandalorian positivity #worldbuilding #writing #fic #star wars #gffa

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violettelueur · 5 years ago

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWO || FOR MYSELF

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mentions of violence and EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 09 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.0k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : ryomen sukuna

↳ next episode : girl of steel

↳ barista’s notes : since you loved the first one so much, i decided to do episode two for you guys ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ also i am now addicted to genshin impact and right now, i am on adventure rank 19 and already cleared the ‘stormterror lair’ thing ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ i hope you enjoy this cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen) and come again soon!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’

3. this whole thing might be confusing and please don’t expect a part three because i will do it when i am ready or feel like i can at the right time ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ

4. i don’t know, if i am going to add this onto my masterlist since this was just for fun to be honest!

“What’s the situation?”

All of a sudden, a new voice came into the area leading you to turn your head to the side to find a rather tall male standing next to Fushiguro. From a quick glance, you could immediately inform yourself that had spiky white hair with a black blindfold covering his eyes, as he carried a paper bag on his arm while wearing a similar outfit to Fushiguro meaning he was another sorcerer.

“Gojo-sensei?! Why are you here?” Fushiguro asked in surprise, as he turned to look at what you assumed to be his teacher leading to the shadows around him to immediately disappear from sight.

“Gojo…” you muttered under your breath as you looked at the two male sorcerers right in front of you in horror as you came to the realisation of the situation you were facing.

‘Mother…..I’ve been found…..’

ꕥ

“Hey!’ the teacher cheerfully greeted while waving an arm to his student as a short greeting. “I wasn’t planning on coming, but man, you’re roughed up,” Gojo explained, before leaning forward as if he was taking a closer look at Fushiguro to which then caused lead to his hand to go into his pocket as he proceeded to pull out his mobile phone. “I should show the second years, face this way!” the sorcerer playfully stated as he began to take a multitude of photos of the ‘roughed up’ student, leading to the subject of his images to turn away while covering his face with his arm.

Looking at the scene with anxiety looming above you like a rainy cloud, you swiftly turned your head back to see if you could find a way out without both of them as well as Itadori noticing as they were distracted for the time being.

‘Shit, the only way I can escape is either jumping from this floor or going through the large gap behind me, but that’s gonna make them notice. What am I going to do?!’

“Ah! Miss, I know you are already there, so no need to escape!” Gojo suddenly stated, causing you to quickly turn back with widened eyes - surprised at the fact that he knew what was on your mind - to find the teacher waving at you with the same greeting he gave to Fushiguro as if he had known you for some time, like an old friend one would say.

‘Ah…..what a drag….’ you thought, as you then carefully picked up the katana that had landed in front of you when the curse was exorcised before slowly sliding it back into the casing that was behind your back.

“The higher-ups wouldn’t such up with a special-grade cursed object gone missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing,” Gojo explained while looking down his phone like he was checking something when in your mind, you assumed that he was going through the photos that he took of Fushiguro due to his jolly smile that was displayed on his face.

‘Maybe, if you damn sorcerers got the cursed object sooner before the damn protective seal was ripped off, WE WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION!’ you argued in your head, as you slowly began to realise the reasonings why your mother never took a liking to the higher-ups, to begin with.

‘Those higher-ups are so useless, all they do is command other sorcerers to do their dirty work while acting if they are superior dear. If I could, I would kill all of them’

“So, did you find it?” the blindfolded teacher asked, as he looked up from his device only for your schoolmate to interrupt the sorcerer’s conversation as he raised up his hand in a guilty manner. “Um...Sorry, but I ate it,” Itadori confessed, as he then pointed to himself to emphasise the statement leading Fushiguro to look down to the floor in what seemed to be in shame while Gojo turned to look at Itadori with a shocked expression.

“For real?” Gojo asked, trying to make sure that it wasn’t some sort of joke.

“For real,” Itadori and Fushiguro answered simultaneously, confirming that it wasn’t a joke at all.

In a complete rage, you slowly made your way towards your schoolmate before grabbing his shoulders with as much might as you could as you then turned him around to face you.

“I don’t know who broke that damn seal I placed on that stupid little hut, but maybe if you haven’t taken that finger, we wouldn’t be in this situation where these two dumbass sorcerers would be in our lives right now!!” you screamed in frustration leading to the two mentioned sorcerers to look at you with dumbfounded looks painted on their faces while Itadori just peered at you with an extremely surprised expression.

During the school hours, Itadori had seen you a few times around the hallways and in his class when you had to collect something for another teacher. From what he could read off, you were the calm and collective type, someone who was on top of their academics while being able to maintain close relationships with other students between the three-years that Sugisawa Municipal Highschool offered. Even though you came off a bit blunt from time to time when calling something or someone a ‘drag’, the students liked that from you since that meant you were being honest to them as well as to yourself, just like the time when you surprised everyone when you rejected being part of the school’s council's committee much to the President’s begging.

“But...shouldn’t you like sorcerers since you seem like one?” Itadori questioned with a confused tone, leading you to look at him with a rather both understandable but irritated expression which caused him to be nervous somewhat due to you being out of character.

“Just because I am one, doesn’t mean I like any of them!” you counted back, as you pointed towards the direction of Fushiguro and Gojo before continuing with “it was such a drag when Fushiguro was here this afternoon and it’s more of one now that two of them are here!” as you then let go of his shoulders before turning away to lean against the crooked metal balcony to relax your vocal cords after screaming so much.

Taking the opportunity, Gojo leaned to the side as if he was inspecting Itadori like he was painting before coming closer to the teenage boy with his hand on his chin as if he was thinking what he could do now. “Hehe, damn, it really did combine with you. That’s hilarious,” Gojo amusingly stated, causing you to turn back to look at the scene with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

‘What is hilarious about the situation right now? This isn’t something to find assuming Gojo’

“Anything off with your body?” Gojo questioned, after straightening his back leading itadori to inspect his body for a quick few seconds.

“Not particularly,” Itadori answered.

“Can you swap out with Sukuna?” Gojo then asked, leading you to then fully turn back to look at the special-grade sorcerer with extreme confusion and astonishment as you begin to wonder what hit Gojo’s head before coming here to the school.

“Sukuna?” Itadori confusingly stated as he looked at Gojo with a perplexed expression.

“The curse you stupidly ate,” you quickly answered, as you gave Itadori a serious glance before letting out a sigh of frustration leading Fushguro to quickly tug your arm as you dropped down to his height before you snatched your arm back, worried about what the Zenin relative would do to you.

“Oh…Yeah, I think I can do that,” Itadori clarified, as he placed his hand on his hip before giving a nod to emphasise this statement.

Stepping back, Gojo suddenly began to stretch in a weird position, which suddenly reminded you of a certain baseball player, but you couldn’t recall who before stating with confidence, “then give us ten seconds, once ten seconds are up, come back to us.”

‘Great, I’m going to die young…” you jokingly thought, as you looked to the side with a grim look as if you were staring at the death ripper at this very moment in time.

“But..” Itadori wavered, as he started to be concerned about Gojo's request since he didn’t know what damage Sukuna could do or how the teacher was going to be at the end of it. “Don’t worry, I’m the strongest,” Gojo confidently stated, leading to another grim look to appear on your face, as you were getting annoyed at his constant confidence even though you knew he had the right to be.

“Megumi, hold on to this,” Gojo demanded before throwing the bag towards his student, leading to the catcher to catch it with his hands before looking down on the paper bag with curiosity.

“Megumi?” you quietly questioned as you suddenly discovered that the sorcerer next to you had a feminine name - since it was quite rare to hear a male have a name that was generally used for the female gender.

“What is this?” Fushiguro asked before his teacher stretched his arms right in front of both of you before answering, “Kikufuku from Kikusuian! It’s Sendai’s speciality, and it’s super good! I recommend the zunda and cream flavour!”

‘So...this man bought mochi when people here were dying, ah...that was dumbass~’

“It’s not a souvenir, I’m going to eat it on the bullet train home,” Gojo stated as if he needed an explanation for his actions. However, what got your full attention was the black markings that were gradually coming onto Itadori’s skin before he suddenly jumped up into the air while Gojo was still explaining his reasoning for this purchase.

“Uh Oh~” you commented, as you stared at the sky with widened eyes before Fushiguro screamed for his teacher’s attention at the curse directing an attack from behind. However, it seemed like his teacher wasn’t fazed on second as he continued explaining the reason why he bought the mochi, “Kikufuku’s not like other souvenirs…”

‘I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WASN’T A SOUVENIR!’ you screamed in your mind before ducking your head down as Itadori’s body finally crashed back to the ground, trying to make sure that the debris didn’t blind you at all. Quickly looking back up to check what was happening, you suddenly came into eye to eye contact with a bright shade of ruby mixed with a hint of malevolence. You came to the realisation that it was Sukuan who was now in front of you while Gojo was casually sitting on his hack like a horse.

“And the whipped cream inside is simply exquisite..” Gojo continued talking, causing you to give off a confused expression on what really was going on inside the special-grade sorcerer’s mind and what his main priority was right now. Suddenly, Sukuna made a 180 degree turn to aim for another attack, yet the second Gojo clasped his hands together, he once again missed and as well as the other attacks he tried to execute.

Unexpectedly, Gojo appeared behind Sukuna’s back before leaning back to say something within his ear, “my student and a little sorcerer’s watching, so I’m going to show off a little.” Instantaneously, Gojo disappeared once again before grabbing the curse vessel’s arm as he then processed to hit Sukuna’s face with his arm, leading to Itadori’s body to slightly fling itself up in the air.

‘What is he manipulating? Time? No, that’s not it….is it like a vacuum? But that means he would be controlling empty space with no particles…’

Suddenly, you slightly noticed the slight manipulated on the air as Gojo’s arm begins to swing leading you to come to the conclusion that Gojo’s cursed technique might be the control of space at an atomic level, leading to a massive pressure to hit the King of Curses as his body smashed into the only part of metal railing that wasn’t bent.

“For crying out loud, you jujutsu sorcerers are always trouble, no matter what era!” Sukuna declared as he, once again, jumped into the air while somehow carrying massive pieces of the broken wall along with him before slamming down at Gojo’s direction. “Though that doesn’t mean much to me,” Sukuna arrogantly stated, with a smirk on his face as some of the windows processed to smash.

However, the second the thin debris started to clear up, Sukuna’s expression quickly twisted into shock as a brightly lit barrier enclosed his opponent, yet he wasn’t the one that had a surprised expression on his face. Turning back around, Gojo found you kneeling next to Fushguro with a flat palm on the ground as your curse energy flowed down to the ground as if the box just didn’t just end on the ground that they were standing on right now.

“This is such a drag,” you muttered before standing up straight as you observed the walls making sure that there wasn’t a single crack when the rocks could have hit. “Seven, eight, nine, ten,” you counted and right on time there was a sudden change in curse energy pressure around you leading you to come to the conclusion that Itadori was now switching back, surprising Sukuan once again at the circumstances that he was in.

“Oh, was everything okay?” Itadori innocently asked, one the marking disappearing leading you to undo your curse spell as the walls slowly started to fade away with little blue parts flying away like they were little fireflies.

“I’m shocked, you really can control it!” Gojo cheered while Fushiguro looked onto the scene with such surprise and confusion on what was happening.

“He’s kind of annoying, though,” Itadori commented as he continuously smacked his head, “I can hear his voice.”

‘And is smacking your head gonna make it better, idiot?’

“It’s a miracle that’s all he’s doing,” Gojo stated, with a smirk on his face as he began to walk towards Itadori before suddenly placing his middle and index finger on the salmon-haired forehead, causing Itadori to freeze for a second before giving in to the suddenly unconscious feeling empowering his body to which lead to his falling within the teacher’s arms.

“What did you do?” Fushiguro asked with slight worry in his tone.

“Knocked him out,” Gojo then answered. “If he isn’t possessed by Sukuna when he wakes up, he might have potential as a vessel,” the white-haired sorcerer explained as he then turned to his student with a question in mind.

“Now, I have a question for you, what should we do with him and the little miss, who is trying to run away?”

Confused, Fushiguro turned around, only to find you with your back turned to both of them as your foot halted the second his teacher had mentioned you. Turning back around Fushiguro then looked at his teacher with a serious expression displayed on his face, “even if he is a vessel, jujutsu regulations demand Itadori be executed. However, I don’t want to let him die!”

“Your personal feelings?” Gojo playful asked his student with a smirk on his face before Fushguro quickly answered, “yes, please do something about this.”

“Hehe~ Now it’s a request from a previous student,” Gojo stated, as he proceeded to lift up the unconscious teenager onto this shoulder. “Leave it to me! But also, what do you want to do with Miss runaway?” Gojo commented, once again leading you to halt your movement as you surprisingly made some distance between you and the two sorcerers now staring at your back.

‘Ah…..caught again…..’

Turning around, you looked towards the two sorcerers with a nonchalant expression displayed before giving them the hand gesture of ‘shooing them away. “There’s nothing you got to do with me, take Itadori and make sure to do what you’re planning to do, don’t drag me into your mess,” you commented, as you turned around once again, only to find the infamous sorcerer to be standing right in front of you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Come on~ Jujtutsu Tech is so much fun, you get to make a few friends and you get to bug Megumi!” Gojo cheerfully tried to persuade you, only for you to scoff in annoyance at this futile attempt to invite you to the school that your mother informed you all about.

“I rather not be near anyone belonging with the three clans,” you irritatedly declared as you placed your hand on your hip trying to keep a distance between you and the teacher. However, this statement of yours caused Gojo and Fushiguro to look at you with surprise painted on their faces. How much did you know about the Jujutsu world? How did you have the acknowledgement of the three great families? Who were you and how much you had the strength to stop Sukuna’s attack within a millisecond?

“L/N!” Fushiguro stated, leading you to turn to him with an angered expression on your face which caused Gojo to peer at you with seriousness clouding his entire body.

“L/N huh?” Gojo curiously questioned, “no wonder your curse technique is familiar to what those old documents have told.”

Taken back to his discovery, you turned back to look at Gojo will a deadpan expression leading him to then carefully suggest, “Since you are part of the lost L/N clan, I won’t tell the higher-ups about your existence but rather have you twist your name slightly when you enrol, how does that sound?”

Glancing at the teacher with suspicion, you tried to hide the gut-wrenching feeling that there was not a possible chance of you now escaping from this. You had been caught and found and there was no way to lie yourself out of this situation you were in, not when Gojo had discovered who you really were while Fushiguro seemed to look clueless on what was going on between his teacher and the female sorcerer in front of him.

Letting out a sigh of frustration once again, you looked up at the sky, letting the same moonlight bathe your face as it did for Sukuna a few minutes ago.

“What a drag”

1K notes · View notes

wincore · 5 years ago

Text

atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of.

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low.

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours.

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget.

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore.

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume.

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type.

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises. If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts.

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself.

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask.

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it.

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it.

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily.

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year.

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately.

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one.

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt.

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover.

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours.

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth.

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words.

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table.

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad.

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back.

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing.

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters.

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs.

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.”

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can.

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off.

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating.

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know.

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young.

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.”

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling.

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung.

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses.

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention.

Inviting him somewhere.

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure.

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more.

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter?

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him.

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.”

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.”

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.”

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts.

You’re disappointing.

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose.

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps.

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask.

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you.

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue.

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.”

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you.

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families.

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe.

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard.

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them.

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out.

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure.

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up.

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt.

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder.

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart.

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it.

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him.

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak.

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time.

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional.

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love.

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved.

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding.

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either.

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple.

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action.

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t.

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days.

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.”

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by.

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers.

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever.

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout.

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!”

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?”

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this.

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose.

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond.

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—”

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder.

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him.

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too.

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again.

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling.

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you.

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care.

“Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there.

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes.

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally.

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer.

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand.

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