#see what happens when you’re too focused on introducing as many threats as possible in season 1?

[obey-me-rot]

You're Mine

A/N: I guess as a writing blog I should be doing some writing right? Honestly this has just been the biggest headcanon I've had in a while since I started playing Obey Me of the brothers just...like Devildom culture must be so different! And then the whole pact thing with human masters must be so different as well! I just view them as big animals just wanting to get your attention u wu. Warnings: Jealous boys, public shows of dominance and a lot of biting.

It's almost painful being in the Devildom sometimes.

A cultural exchange program amped up to 100 %.

As much as you loved the brothers, you also were meeting some pretty cool demons in RAD. Surely you were the human student everyone was so excited to meet, but none of them really talked to you, you know? But there were some that were brave enough to overlook your pact marks and dive into a conversation.

Even some were bold enough to talk to you out of school!

Making so many friends was so exciting, especially since you still thought of yourself as new! Wait till the brothers see how many new demons you have met!

Problem is you forgot how weird demon culture is, especially when it has to do with a demon and their master.

"MC?"

Lucifer blinks as he notices the demon approaching the two of you, pausing your daily walk with him as confusion turns to familiarity and you run up to greet your friend.

The first thing he notices is how they are a low ranking demon, so there’s no need to be hyper aware of any sort of threat. In this instance he doesn’t need to look to make sure his pact mark is visible to the demon.

His mark was embedded right in your iris, so anyone could see whose protection you were under.

He smiles politely as you turn around to introduce them, the demon waving at him shyly as if remembering that, yes, this human made a pact with Lucifer and therefore should not be messed with in any way. Yet there was no sort of violent tendencies coming from this demon, which put him at somewhat of an ease.

That is, until the demon takes a hold of your hand.

It’s a simple touch, one that a human would mistaken for a sign of friendship and camaraderie. The demon was speaking excitedly about a new flower they had seen over at the Botanical gardens and how much they wanted to show it off to you.They tighten their hold and Lucifer has to dig his fingernails into his palm from ripping their hand off.

You had no idea what it meant and the action would most likely scare you.

And Lucifer wanted you to trust him as much as possible.

“Would it be okay if Lucifer comes along?”

“...y--yeah! I don’t mind!”

Hesitation mixed with fake happiness, this demon really thought that he would get some time alone with you, didn’t they? They probably planned this whole thing out and whatever excitement they were showing you was just a front to hide their true intentions. Besides, look how they are hanging off of you, they want to make a pact with you so badly it’s almost disgusting.

Might as well get rid of the pest now.

“Come on MC, I want to show you the huge petals--!”

“OW!”

You and the demon look back to see Lucifer biting down on one of your fingers, your ring finger to be exact, while making eye contact with the pest. His teeth are not necessarily breaking skin but the pain of the bite made all your attention go back on him, turning around to tug your finger away and cradle it close. “Lucifer what the hell!”

He smiles and tells you not to worry about it, your retort falling on deaf ears as Lucifer’s eyes fall on the demon one more time. Their eyes are wide and they have immediately taken two steps back, their back as straight as a needle as Lucifer sends them one last look that lets them know of his intentions.

Leave now or I will gut you in front of my human.

You turn to apologize to your friend for putting them in such a weird situation but the demon is already long gone, no sign of them ever being in your presence as you look around aimlessly.

“They left...” you frown and look at Lucifer, “Next time at least warn me.”

“If I did then you would have probably forbidden me from doing so.”

The Avatar of Pride smiles as he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you kept talking about how you would apologize the next day. But Lucifer wasn’t listening, he just kept staring at you as you talked, happy that his master wasn’t particularly mad.

That demon would have to learn to get his own, this human was already his.

He had finally gotten you all to himself.

Mammon had a photoshoot today, making you tag along so he could finally show off his modeling skills. And it would help him out as well. The product they were trying to sell did not appeal to him one bit and he just really needed you as inspiration.

And inspiration did you give.

“Oh gorgeous Mammon gorgeous! Lean back and close your eyes.”

The cameraman was giving him compliment after compliment, excellent after excellent, it was as if all eyes were on him at that exact moment. He smiled as he thought about how you must be looking at him. His shirt was open, letting the cloth hang off the side of the couch as the camera focused primarily on the low riding jeans that showed off the boxers he was promoting.

“Perfect! Perfect!! Now turn around and stare into the camera!”

His eyes opened and his head turned expertly, Mammon smiling as he tried to make eye contact with you--

Only to see that you were gone.

Camera flashes stop as he bolts up, turning to look for you before his eyes focused on your form.

There you were...talking with someone else.

“Mammon?”

He doesn’t stare at the cameraman, only gets up and stalks towards you and the demon currently holding up the lights. Both of you turn to face him, a voice speaking loudly about a five minute break as Mammon stands behind you and hugs you from behind, placing his chin right on your shoulder as he looks at the interloper.

“Are you taking a break?”

Mammon smiles as he buries his face in your shoulder, hugging you tight as the demon tells him he did a wonderful job. Without raising his head, Mammon speaks up.

“MC, who is this?”

“Oh right! Haven’t introduced you. He is a friend from RAD! We sit together in Pactology 101.”

“Well we used to sit together...”

“We talked way too much in class, didn’t we?”

It’s like nails on a chalkboard when he laughs, Mammon feeling glad that he was closer to you so he could hear the sound of your laughter instead of the ugly screeching of the intruder taking up your attention. Did this guy think he was stupid? That he couldn’t notice all the goddamn pheromones he was releasing? Mammon shakes his head back and forth, breathing in your scent heavily as he tries to leave his own behind.

This guy was embarrassing himself with how badly he wanted to form a pact with you.

“MC.”

“Oh oh, remember when the teacher caught us texting in class?”

“I think he might want to just put us back together cause we are still causing trouble!”

The Avatar of Greed frowns, did you not hear him?

“MC…”

“Well the teacher knows we are a good match, doesn’t he?”

“A match made in hell, I would say.”

Why was this guy still talking? Why were you still listening to him?

“MC….”

“Hey after this...would you want to go get some coffee, MC? If you’re not busy.”

“Nah, I only have this toda---FUCK!”

A pair of teeth tug at your earlobe, Mammon growling in your ear as he makes eye contact with the annoyance in front of him. He should be counting his lucky stars that you were still in the room, if Mammon found him anywhere else this demon would be nothing more than a meal for his familiars.

“MC, you have to stare at me or else I’m going to take longer.”

You rub at your ear as Mammon lets go of you, breaking eye contact with the other demon as he gives you his signature pout. He didn’t want you to see him be all scary, Mammon wanted you to see him like the number one demon he always tried to be for you.

“And you had to bite me because of that!?”

“Because you weren’t paying attention! You have to keep your eyes on me or else I’m not going to sell this stupid product. In fact--”

He drags you back to the couch, yelling at the cameraman that he would be posing with you so he could actually get through this photoshoot instead of doing a solo shoot. The man sighs but calls makeup to get you ready, Mammon smiling as he sits down right next to you.

The farther you were from that guy the better, all of his master’s attention needed to be on him after all.

Of course something like this would happen. Bad luck seemed to follow Leviathan wherever he went.

"Did you see the finale of it live?"

"I did!!! My movie theatre put it on the big screen and everything!"

Levi was glad that you were a nerd just like him. It was refreshing and probably one of the biggest reasons he had decided to make a pact with you.

Well, he had tried to kill you first and then make a pact with you but it was still a special story! Who would have thought that he would land himself a human master with his own interests!

Though he guessed that was a bad thing now.

He couldn't keep his thoughts in check as the clerk of the comic store kept talking to you, Levi annoyed that he couldn't keep up with the conversation you two had. It was about some comic cinematic universe that had been adapted in the human world and he honestly didn’t want to put anymore thought into it because of how close the clerk was getting.

Dammit he should have bought the new manga volume in Akuzon...but you had been so cute irl asking him to get the manga in this comic store you found,and if his master was begging him so cutely then what else could he do?

“I actually got the limited edition of this one movie--”

Nobody cared.

“It was up for a lot in Akuzon but I’m glad I got my hands on it--”

Stop talking!

“And I have a pretty cool viewing set up in the back--!”

Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking to MC!

Levi frowns as you gush about the movie some more, glaring down at you for letting your attention stray from him. But why should he be surprised, of course your attention would stray. Him being the yucky otaku that he is, of course you would go with the demon who took his interest and actually turned it into a profit--

No.

No! It wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t even his fault! It was this demon’s fault!

Thinking they looked so cool with their most basic of interests. If Levi could expose them for the fraud that they were, MC would be able to see the absolute fool that this demon was making themselves out to be. Smiling a lot more, inching closer as they talked, even offering to take you to the back of the store--!

People may say what they want about Levi but at least he wasn’t this desperate to get on the good side of a human...at least the first time he met you.

His eyes fall on the back of your neck, hair conveniently placed out of the way as he remembered something Lucifer had discussed with him and Mammon after they had made their pact.

You will not think rationally when you are with them, make sure to monitor your actions so you don’t embarrass yourself.

That’s what he said but…

Surely Levi wasn’t going to embarrass himself more than this demon already has.

“This is the one with the symbiote creature, right? And you got the bonus deleted scenes! Honestly I would be so down with watching it right--EEP!”

Levi made sure to let his tongue lick the back of your neck first before biting down, wanting to make the bite as painless as possible. Although he guessed that not making you feel pain was out of the question as he felt you tense up, his tongue swiping against your nape one last time as he pulled back and tugged on the back of your shirt.

“MC let’s go. They don’t have it.”

You turn to look at Levi, hand on the back of your neck as you tell him that he could have gotten your attention in any other way, but he knew for a fact that he had made his point across with the demon in front of him.

Summoning Lotan in his own home was one thing, summoning Lotan in a store would probably cost a lot…

Even if he knew brothers wouldn’t blame him with how nauseatingly this demon was trying to approach their master.

“MC, here.”

Satan breaks his pencil, but it seems the two other people don’t seem to notice.

“And it's the first edition too, but I took it out just for you.”

You smile and mention about how you didn’t need anything fancy for the assignment, just a simple book that talked about Devildom history. Which Satan agreed, this bug was acting like he owned the entire Royal Library. A pass to get a first edition title wasn’t that rare of a fucking find--if he wanted, Satan could call up any of his connections and get about 16 copies of different first edition titles that spoke not just about the Devildom history but about whatever the hell topic he could get his hands on.

This guy wasn’t that special yet he was acting like he had just given you the world on a silver platter.

The demon sat down at the table you and Satan were studying at, looking at you the entire time he explained how to open the book and how to make sure it stays in its pristine condition.

Which made Satan break another pencil.

From what you had mentioned, this guy was just someone you knew from RAD. You labeled him as the ‘smartest person in the class’. Which was a bit of an insult on his part but he guessed that as long as he wasn’t the one in your class it didn’t count as an insult towards his person.

He, of course, being the smartest demon you know.

But Satan didn’t have to be the smartest demon in RAD to know what this nuisance was doing.

If he were to read you any book on Devildom demonology, certain demons needed a human master. This insect in front of you would count as one of them. Lower demons usually tend to be without guidance and need a soul to feed from. In comes a human master, being able to fulfill that need with a pure soul of their own. The demon feeds and in return, develops a sort of ‘affection’ towards their master since they are now the hand that feeds them.

The same couldn’t be applied to Satan or his brothers, however. As the seven demon lords, they are able to gain the sustenance they need from the feed of other lower demons under the sin they were made in.

They are free to form pacts, but it’s not like they need it.

A good metaphor would be that they are essentially ‘picking off the plate’ of the lower demons, making the lower demons only cause minimal casualties up in the human world as they feed and keeping the seven lords from going feral with hunger.

Of course, things were different now. Satan had you now, a human all of his own.

Essentially, someone was trying to ‘take a bite’ of his favourite food, and Satan hated sharing.

Friends be damned, politeness be damned, he needed to show this demon his place.

“Isn’t it fascinating? The cover was made with a demon’s skin.”

“....really?”

“Yes. I believe it was from recently dead demon’s during the first Celestial War. Do you want to feel?”

You nod, curious about the black and shiny cover as the demon holds out his hand for you to take--

Only for you to yelp as Satan takes it first, dragging your hand back so it would be close to his lips as the Avatar of Wrath’s teeth bite at the skin near your wrist. You hiss in pain at the sudden sharpness, quickly pulling your hand back and staring at your demon as he gives the annoyance one last pointed stare.

“That is how demons started their pacts before we arrived in the Devildom, wasn’t it?”

The demon nodded slowly, his eyes darting to the mark on your wrist and then back at Satan. He opened his mouth to try and speak up but seemed to decide better against it, giving you one last smile as he stood up. “...I’ll...I’ll go get you the second volume. That one might include more accurate and updated information on pact markings.”

Satan smiles and nods as he scoots his chair close to you, looking back at you tracing the mark on your wrist with a frown before putting all your attention back on him.

“Did demons really used to form pact marks like this?”

The Avatar of Wrath shrugs.

“I was only guessing, he was the one who left thinking it was the truth. Here, let’s go look for a book on our own.”

Asmo would like to think that he had perfected the fake smile to the point he could keep it up for an indeterminate amount of time.

“MC! Try this!”

Yet the corners of his mouth twitched as he watched one of your friends, who happened to be a store clerk at Majolish, open the door to your dressing room to hand you another outfit they had picked out. And it wasn’t a bad outfit--!

Just...did they have to keep opening the door every single time?

Granted, he shouldn’t be in your dressing room in the first place but he insisted he would stay since you were only trying some shirts on! It wasn’t like he was seeing anything inappropriate and your pants were staying on the entire time.

This sight was okay for him because he was your demon and you were his master.

So it wasn’t right that some random nobody kept coming in to hand you shirts that they thought looked cute on you! That’s what you had Asmo for!

Yet here he was, secluded to sit down on the little chairs that someone would usually toss the unwanted clothes they wouldn’t buy. Which was already doing horrible things for his self-esteem.

“I learned a couple of things by working here. See? The color really matches your hair.”

The Avatar of Lust scoffs when he hears that. What exactly did the demon learn? How to match colors? Oh look, someone learned the basics of the color wheel, someone give them a medal.

“And since you are wearing something long at the bottom, it’s only fair that you go with something short on top.”

This demon is going to win an award for making basic observations, Asmo could already see it. What a future they had ahead of them.

“These colors are summery too so...it goes great with the weather!”

Oh he wants to gag, Asmo’s heard enough.

“You don’t think it’s too revealing? I do like the color though…”

Before the demon can answer, Asmo grabs your shoulders and pulls you back to him with a smile as he makes you look in the mirror.

“I think it’s revealing enough for the summer look you are going for...except can you maybe get it in a light pastel? Any color would do it just needs to be a pastel color if we want it to go with the light color of your bottoms.”

The demon deflates at the sudden lack of contact with you but nods as they step out, waving goodbye and stating once again how ‘gorgeous’ you looked. Which Asmo guessed was the only compliment they had in their arsenal.

Gorgeous didn’t even begin to describe you.

“I did like this color, Asmo. Does it not look good?”

“No it looks perfect on you! But--”

He tugs on the floral print top and smiles as he wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“Floral prints are extremely last season and I want you to be on a more neutral type of clothing. Just simple colors. This way we can add some jewelry--some of my own creation of course.”

Asmo smiles when you giggle, fixing your top and looking at yourself in the mirror a couple more times as you mumble to yourself about how Devildom summers seem rather temperate compared to the ones you were used to and how you wouldn’t need anything sleeveless.

Damn the Devildom summers, if they could even be called that at all.

His ears twitch as he hears the pest start to make their way back, Asmo’s smile dropping slowly as he looks down at your neck. This was the spot they kept staring at, wasn’t it? Shame it wasn’t decorated--

But he could fix that~ “I found some other colors that would go well with you MC, do you want to--”

“OW OW OW!”

Asmo’s teeth are right on your neck, turning to look back at the clerk with a smile and a little wave as he hums at the way you clench and unclench your fingers while looking at him through the mirror, wanting to ask just why he was doing this but the pain keeping you quiet. It was cute how much you were hurting but how you were doing absolutely nothing to stop him. This could technically mean that you approved of what he was doing, correct?

He lets go as the clerk immediately closes the door, you calling out for your friend but Asmo brings you back and makes you look at the mirror one more time.

“There we go. That’s a pretty mark, right MC? An Asmodeus Limited Edition item, just for you~”

If this kept happening, Beel was going to eat this demon.

“You need to try some Devildom food, MC! I promise it's good!”

Beel stomach growls again as you laugh, ignoring the parfait in front of you. He gives you a tap on the shoulder and your attention is right back to him. “Oh sorry, Beel. Here!” You scoop up the delicious frozen treat and feed it to him, Beel smiling as he takes another two bites of his hamburger and watches you and your friend talk. He actually had no idea that you had any friends in RAD and was happy to see that at least some demons were treating you nicely, compared to theo ones who had teased you when you first arrived.

Well he said teased, more like threatened to eat you.

He figured you would make friends fast though, you were nice and all the demons here were already attracted to human souls so it was bound to happen that one of them would have the courage to talk to you.

Yet this one seemed rather...eager.

“How about this. Hell’s Kitchen serves good food but I know this awesome corner in the wall place we can get some grilled bat sandwiches. Guts and everything.”

His stomach growls again, he knew of the place this demon was talking about and would most likely want to take you there himself if you ever asked.

Beel takes another two bites before waiting for you to feed him the parfait.

Nothing.

He frowns and stares at you again, the demon keeping your attention all to himself as you spoke about how you didn’t necessarily want to eat anything with guts in it. His eyes went to the parfait, watching some of the perfectly placed scoops slowly melt and droop down on the plate.

MC, pay attention to him!

This was his time with you! He didn’t mind if someone else stepped in and he was glad you were making friends but this demon was interrupting his mealtime!

He ate his burger, you fed him ice-cream, this is how it had always worked!

People could say what they wanted but Beel was a creature of habit, and he was in the habit of having you feed him.

Not just that, he was in the habit of having your attention all on him when it was his time to hang out with you.

Wasn’t this demon just being a bother? Didn’t you also want them gone?

They kept talking about all the stuff that clearly grossed you out, seemingly delighted with your reactions as they kept trying to egg you on to say yes to an outing. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were smiling the entire time, Beel would have already made the move to unhinging his jaw and--

“I promise I’ll treat you to the best ghost pepper pizza you’ve ever had. You’re free after this, right?”

Beel’s stomach growls, whether in hunger or anger Beel wouldn’t be able to say. All he knows is that this demon is bad news for both him and you.

So what would be the quickest way to make him back off?

“I’m not but I can take a raincheck--!”

You drop the spoon you were holding as Beel bites your cheek, throwing the demon one quick glimpse before letting out a few sounds that seemed to make up your name. The demon stares at you and Beel as the Avatar of Gluttony pulls away from you, licking his lips as you slowly put a hand on your cheek and turn to look at him.

“The parfait is gonna melt. I want another bite.”

“Beel…”

Eyes turn to the demon once again, Beel frowning as he takes a hold of your hand underneath the table.

“Please leave. If MC is going to eat Devildom food then they’ll eat it with me. The only thing you are going to do is gross them out.”

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Belphie frowned as your fingers gently played with his hair. That is not what he had asked for when he asked to lay on your lap. Belphegor wanted the usual way you would comb through his hair, both of you gently whispering to each other as the planetarium ambience lulled him to sleep.

“Well...uhm...I wanted to ask something important.”

And who the hell was this person? He peeked up to look at you smiling at the screen, frowning that you still didn’t seem to notice you were doing a shit job at giving him the attention he needed. Whoever this was had been on the line with you for a good solid ten minutes, talking about useless subjects such as their day and what they had for lunch. If anything, Belphegor had no idea how this thing was taking your attention. You were doing most of the talking anyway, they should just hang up and leave you alone to pay attention to your demon.

“We’ve known each other for a while.”

Belphegor most likely knew MC for longer...maybe.

“And honestly I haven’t met a human like you before. You just...I just expected humans to be something and you aren’t that so it threw me off.”

The Avatar of Sloth yawns as he buries his head in your lap, smiling at the darkness he found in the small crook of your thighs. He yawns again and closes his eyes to try and fall asleep but the grating voice of the demon on the phone was sending nothing but warning signals to his brain.

“So I wanted to ask something I didn’t think I would ask a human before.”

He really wanted to yell ‘get to the point’ or ‘hang up the phone’ but he knew that you would most likely shush him and tell him to be patient, which would then result in you gently pushing him away so you could talk somewhere more private. And he wasn’t ready to lose his favourite pillow just yet.

So he continued listening, tracing random shapes on your thighs as he felt his eyelids start to droop.

“I know you have seven pacts already…”

Damn straight.

“But would an eight be too much for you?”

That wakes Belphegor right up, eyes wide open and head turned to face up at you to see your reaction. Of course you would be surprised, this demon really had the guts to ask the current master of the Seven deadliest demons in the Devildom for a pact?

You better be grateful that Belphegor found comfort in your lap and would prefer to stay here, rather than go break the neck of the demon insolent enough to try to take his master away.

So go ahead, reject him.

“A pact? With me?”

What were you doing?

Don’t give him such a hopeful answer! Belphegor had to share you with six other demons constantly and those demons were his siblings! He was okay sharing with Beel but he drew the line at anyone else! Adding an eighth demon to that would be like asking for a bloodbath, a bloodbath with only one target.

Belphegor frowned as the demon started talking again, stuttering and jumping over his words like he was a dog who asked to eat their masters table. Which essentially he was, not like there was room for him anyway.

“I know I’m not like those brothers--”

Damn straight.

“But making a pact with you would make me really happy...is what I am trying to say.”

He wants to gag.

A part of him couldn’t blame the demon, you were perhaps the best master a demon could ask for, but you were already t a k e n.

And you were to blame too, you know?

You weren’t rejecting him like you should. The face you were making was far too surprised and flattered at the proposition given to you. Were you that greedy? Had Mammon rubbed off on you? You had seven of the most powerful demons under your command, what more could you possibly want?

As a master, you were doing a bad job at rejecting this insect and an even more horrible job at not paying attention to the actual demon you were tied to.

He turns his head back to the darkness of your thighs, feeling you shift as you also struggle to find an answer. This was becoming too much, if Belphegor didn’t act fast you were most likely going to say yes, just because you didn’t know any better!

Fuck it, you could try to push him off but Belphegor would hold on tightly, he had to save you from your mistake.

“Uhm. Well that is honestly really flattering. And eight pacts wouldn’t be so bad--”

You slap a hand over your mouth, your teeth biting into your tongue as you look down at the demon nipping at the inside of your thigh. Belphie looks up innocently, batting his eyelashes at you as he bites down a little harder--

“I’ll-try-to-have-an-answer-for-you-later-got-to-go-bye!”

Fingers hurry to end the call as Belphegor quickly lets go, smiling as you gape down at him.

“I was in the middle of a call!”

“I know.”

“Then what was that about!?”

The Avatar of Sloth shrugs as he closes his eyes.

“You weren’t paying attention to me. It made me mad.”

You sigh and lean back, Belphegor waiting for a few moments before smiling as he feels your fingers combing through his hair.

“Next time,just talk to me, Belphegor.”

He would have answered, but that would make him promise something he most likely was not going to do.

[tundrainafrica]

[Part 1] Hi Sav! What are ur thoughts on Kamiya's (Levi's VA) words regarding Levi? Here are two translations I found on twitter. Since you know Japanese I think you're the perfect person to ask this from ^^ " Today at Anime Japan Kamiya Hiroshi said, “Levi hasn’t changed. The loss of Erwin is so huge that afterwards his life in a sense is like ‘yosei’.” Yosei (余生) means like, the rest of one’s life (after raising kids or retiring) where you have nothing left to do"++

Disclaimer: Please I have no intention of starting a ship war with this, I just wanna drop my own interpretation for my own Levihan stanning heart. 

Note: I had no plans of watching the Japanese Seiyu panel for the last episode of Attack on Titan for many reasons and 90% of it is because Romi Paku didn’t show up and I’m still salty overall about how AOT and the narrative is treating Hange altogether and literally the only comfort I get about Hange this whole AOT season is that she looks great in all her scenes but anyway, enough about the rant. I’m still low key salty about not getting our Levihan reunion yet… But whatever. 

I got all of these asks in succession and soon after I did some research on twitter to see what all the fuss was about and apparently, a lot of Eruri fans are likening Levi to a widow--- A WIDOW of all things. 

And I dunno, I feel like this conclusion for one kinda cheapens Levi’s character altogether and just cheapens the bond of Levihan so I kinda realized I just cannot stand and watch some obviously Eruri-biased Japanese translations of that statement run rampant on twitter without my own take. 

So anyway, I’m gonna drop my own take on this, my own interpretation as a Levihan stan.

Disclaimer: I am in no way trying to push any Levihan agenda on anyone. If you like Eruri and you wanna stick to your widow interpretation feel free too. I just feel like a pro Levihan take, and a more ‘non Eruri’ take on that statement should exist as well so I’ll just drop this here for Levihan fans to seek comfort and possibly for any casual reader or Eruri fan to get some other perspectives on this statement I guess?

This is the original Text

声の方「団長、エルヴィンを失ったことはとても大きかったと思うんですよ」

「だからそこから先ってある意味余生みたいな感じになってる気がする」

Isym先生「エルヴィンの最期を看取って役割を全うし、現在宙ぶらりんな状態」

リヴァイ本人「…俺達の役目は」「あそこで終わりだったのかもしれない…」

And if I were going to translate it word for word. 

“For Levi, losing Erwin was a big thing. And everything after that became some sort of ‘retirement’ (Yosei) for him. Since he took it upon himself then to follow Erwin, right now it feels just dangling in space.”

Okay these are obviously Eruri crumbs at first glance and I recognize why exactly Eruris would celebrate over something like this because if we had a Levihan thing like this too, I’ll probably be celebrating too

But Let me offer my own interpretation of this as a Levihan stan

Yes, I recognize that for Levi losing Erwin was a big thing, but I’d like to paint some of the terms in a positive light for Levi. And the main key terms above were ‘Yosei’ and “Levi dangling in space’

So I’ll be focusing on those two: 

余生 (Yosei)

余生 (Yosei) isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Yosei literally translates to ‘the remaining years of someone’s life” So it doesn't necessarily mean Levi’s a widow or Levi is lonely because Erwin’s not there anymore In fact, Yosei is used a lot from what I see, to mean, retirement years. So after you’re done with your job and you retire, your last few years playing golf, playing with grandchildren, those are your ‘yoseis’ 

And there are lots of takes I saw online to this Yosei thing 

There was a meta in Japanese I found  where they discussed the fact that Levi was approaching his twilight years. and the main reason he was facing ‘retirement’ wasn’t necessarily because Erwin was gone but because soon after Erwin died, the basement happened and it turned out there were enemies much stronger than titans out there. 

The ‘Yosei’ meant, Levi retired from his role as ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’ because Levi was the ‘strongest soldier’ against titans, not against humans, the rapidly changing world and technology. I mean if we actually are objective about this, we could see the most capable survey corps member for handling the new enemy which is Marley and the Hizuru and just all the other countries and the impending war, was Hange since she is the best at navigating politics and she would be the quickest to adapt to technology.  

So yes, if it’s obvious, I do not like the ‘Levi is a widow take’ AT ALL.

「エルヴィンの最期を看取って役割を全うし、現在宙ぶらりんな状態」

 Since he took it upon himself then to follow Erwin, right now it feels just dangling in space.

But I’m not gonna discount the role of Erwin in Levi’s life. I think it is actually very important to understand why Levi feels like ‘he’s dangling in space.’ 

We all remember that last scene from ACWNR after Isabel and Farlan died and I’m sure we can all connect those last words from Erwin all the way until Levid decides to follow him to the role implied above. 

Erwin was Levi’s compass. Erwin gave direction to Levi’s life and suddenly Erwin dies and at the same time the world opens up and Levi starts to realize he’s not as needed anymore and his role as humanity’s strongest is gone.

So obviously all those events at once would leave Levi in some sort of limbo right. And that’s why he gets this feeling that he has reached his ‘yosei’ years and he’s also dangling in some limbo

I can think of two more specific reasons he ends up ‘dangling.’ 

First reason is: Killing the beast titan, the last order Erwin gave Levi wasn’t so easy to do anymore given the political nuances, the environment and of course the fact that the world was already more complicated than killing titans. And to think that Levi makes a promise to do that right before Erwin died? 

So I’m thinking the ‘dangling’ refers to Levi grappling with such complexities and nuances while trying to fulfill a goal which would have been so much easier if the basement thing didn’t happen and the world didn’t open up. 

And my second reason is: 

Warning: Before I go to this, I wanna warn you that this is my Levihan stan self reaching for pro-Levihan interpretations so feel free to ignore this if you don’t want crazy Levihan delusional interpretations. 

Anyway, my second explanation which I like to play with and I like to keep close to me, being a Levihan fan is that Hange of all people, was the last veteran stuck to Levi and as we all know, according to Yams old interviews about Hange’s gender...

Hange’s a free soul. She’s like the balloon, the kite that just floats in space and just continues hanging, dangling and flying. And she’s the person who Levi ended up sticking to after Erwin’s death. And since he ended up with such a free sould, he didn’t necessarily find much direction again, the same way he found direction with Erwin. 

Hange didn’t give a straightforward direction for Levi. But Hange provided comfort. 

And I’d just like to introduce a pro-Levihan interpretation this. 

So maybe ‘dangling in space’ and leaving the remaining years of his life like that isn’t such a bad thing? I mean I like to interpret this ‘retirement’ and ‘dangling’ as Levi finally being free of whatever ‘Ackerbond’ or whatever compass or order Erwin has set for him. 

Because Hange went about her position as commander more as a parent to the cadets and more as a comrade to Levi than anything else. And with title of ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’ not so relevant anymore post season 3 with titans becoming a not so big threat compared to the impending war, I think the ‘yosei’ and the ‘dangling’ could be interpreted as freedom for Levi from his role as Erwin’s right hand man and freedom from the burden of being ‘humanity’s strongest.’

And the transition from having to report to Erwin to having to report to Hange, I think this can be interpreted as a breath of fresh air for Levi.

Yosei after all can be interpreted as freedom. When people retire, people are free right? They’re free to try out different things, they’re free to focus on other things. Even if people have to experience the pain of ‘loss’ when losing one position, the remnants of it, the ‘yosei’ isn’t inherently bad although it can be interpreted as that. 

And the crumbs for this? I always believed that Levi generally acted freer under Hange than under Erwin. And I feel like I have created metas about this before about Hange’s leadership style: here and here

Anyway if you got this far, thanks for reading! 

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do Fort Max and First Aid for the oxygen loss?

Seriosuly loving it, angst and comfort/fluff is the best combination lmao

It is the best combination and those are two of the best boys so I am ON IT! Fort Max is in part eight listed below, but here's First Aid!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: You're Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

First Aid

·Ever one for new experiences, he'd been quite enthusiastic to have a human join the crew, and perhaps it was his penchant for thoroughly appreciating every unknown he came across that had led to your fast paced courtship. The bot had simply demonstrated an almost overwhelming fascination towards you from day one, and in short time the connection between the two of you had been discovered through his efforts. Now you were nearly inseparable. Off days and breaks are always used for bonding, and today is no exception. Atop his lap as he sits comfortably, you happily listen to his enthusiastic and commentary filled reading of a Wrecker's Declassified, loving how he has the most obvious and adorable starstruck look while doing so. You could listen all day just to see his schoolboy crush play out before you.

·For him, having someone who listens and values his opinions without hesitation is enough to get his spark humming. He's rather accustomed to being passed over for bots with more experience and fame, so seeing your eyes focused on him with such rapt attention is... well, it's just nice. Finding you exceptionally adorable doesn't make it any less sweet. Being human also means a great deal of his favorite topics are new to you, so he gets to introduce you to all the wonders of the Wreckers, something that he loves every moment of. It's also not unpleasant to have your tiny body close to his, practically snuggling against him... Cuddling is something more or less new to him as well, so having it at all is yet another wonder you've brought to his life. There's a vague hope in the back of his processor that he'll be brave enough to suggest sharing a berth someday, just for a nice nap together, as he's not yet been brave enough to ask such a thing of you.

·Unfortunately, the universe has very little respect for his plans. Accustomed to interruptions as an always on call medic, he can't help but be a little frustrated when Ratchet starts comming him out of the blue, but he knows better than to show it. Something serious must be going on if their CMO needs assistance. Still in your partner's lap, you watch as he answers the communication, quite used to sudden messages like this pulling him away. It's a part of dating a medic; but nothing about this seems standard. First Aid shifts his expression to one of concern as the voice comes through the comm in broken static, though he's experienced enough to put together what little there is. A warning of failing systems gets him moving on instinct, his arms scooping you up as he moves to stand, and the instructions to head to his emergency stations is almost unnecessary when the line goes dead.

·You're surprised but not offput by the sudden change in your position, if only because being swept into his arms is... very nice. That doesn't prevent you from knowing something is off though, and thankfully he is just as aware of you as he is his responsibilities as a medic, more so of you to tell the truth... A calm visor reflects your face as he lifts you close to relay the situation. Something is wrong with the ship, he explains, and it's bad enough that Ratchet made a preemptive call for medical bots to get moving. That means he needs to get to the medical bay, and before you can ask he brings up the possibility of you coming with him. Worry is just perceptible on his face as he hesitantly expresses that having you there would be safer, and thus he'd feel better... The bashful look is so cute you momentarily forget the danger to give him a reassuring kiss on his faceplate while accepting the proposition.

·Ignoring the stars you make him see with a tiny smooch, he gets right to work, securing you in one arm and ensuring his room is locked before heading out. He can't help but feel protective as he does so, almost like your guard against the threat that feels omnipresent in every hallway. You feel the same, and he can tell by how you hold him tighter in his grasp, something that stirs his spark with almost overpowering affection. It's enough to make him certain he'd fight like a Phase Sixer to protect you... For your part, a similiar drive to keep him safe is present, despite the difference in size between you. Hopefully you help him feel a little more secure as the two of you move through the eerily quiet hallways.

·The protective instincts First Aid has honed in his career as a medic give him a half second warning that danger is inbound, but all he is able to do in that time is curl around you protectively when the world seems to shake itself asunder. Hard floors meet his back in a painful rush, and you're similiarly jostled against him, though thankfully the worst of the blow is softened by his reflexive brace for impact. Tremors continue to rock the ship once you both realize you're on the ground, but a great cacophony of noise fails to die down when the shaking does. It's not a noise you've ever heard before; though you can compare it to metal being torn, the echoing and overbearing sound is at a scale you can't even comprehend.

·First Aid, having a natural coolness under pressure, is able to collect himself even as the situation continues evolving. The alarm begins to go off as he gets himself off the floor, and he notes that had it not the entire crew would probably still be mobilizing. There was no way anybot didn't feel what he just happened to be a front row spectator towards. While being on a ship of soldiers meant backup would soon be available, he had a few concerns that just couldn't wait for the guards to be scrambled. With one path to the medical bay now inaccessible, and you being so vulnerable, he needs to get somewhere safe to plan. He holds you close as the first open room becomes a makeshift shelter.

·Still reeling from the shock of everything, you find yourself atop a table in one of the Lost Light's many maintenance rooms, watching as First Aid attaches a portable operating flashlight to his helm. Before you can ask a single question the light is covering your body as he looks you over, asking for clarification on your basic functions while checking for injuries at the same time. Only when he's satisfied you're stable does the opportunity for speech present itself. Half expecting another massive tremor to hit at any moment, you ask what on earth made the ship move and sound like it had hit a Titan sized can opener, and his visor darkens with worry. You take hold of his hand to reassure and encourage him.

·The explanation is a bit rushed, but understandable; the ship has been ambushed, no doubt the enemy is preparing to board through the makeshift docking station they just created, and enemies will soon flood in... Also, most of the ship's systems appear to be offline. It's bad enough news that you feel suddenly woozy and need to sit back on your little table. Seeing you afraid drives First Aid into action, his processor working overtime to formulate a plan that will get you to safety, though admittedly the situation is a tough one. It's only when he takes proper stock of his surroundings and notes the monitor station that an idea takes shape.

·Intent on finding a clear path, he lays out his plan as he starts typing, explaining his thought process as he hacks into the virus addled program to get what he needs. Though you find solace in his confidence, the surprise from before is still wearing you down. Exhaustion seems to be the only thing you can truly comprehend... First Aid breaks through the enemy programs holding information back, but his victory proves short lived when the many systems start showing their current status, and his triumph turns to horror at one in particular. Critical to your survival, the atmospheric generators are among the malfunctioning systems. Oxygen levels are dropping by the minute. Without a word, he turns on the spot and begins looking you over again, earning a cry of surprise as he scoops you up.

·Alarmed and confused, you haven't a clue what might have spurred the usually in control bot to act so rashly, and have to sputter out the question when your clouded head fails to settle. Something like an explanation pours out of him, but there's very little you understand due to an increasingly sluggish mind. The growing exhaustion alarms him further. There's precious little time before you reach critical levels of oxygen deprivation, and the hypoxia has already rid you of the ability to process the situation... An ache in his spark is joined by one in his head as he tries to formulate a plan, and when he is left with only a long shot, he's forced to take it for your sake. There's a shake in his hands as he cannibalizes the room for parts, throwing together a makeshift air scrubber that will generate just enough breathable oxygen to get you to the medical bay. You smile as you watch him make it, suddenly too tired to stay awake but wanting to watch him craft, if only because his ingenuity is one of your favorite traits. The pleasant haze is still there even as he lifts you again to bring a makeshift oxygen mask to your face and begin running.

·All he can really do is hope, but there's precious little optimism in his spark as he makes the journey to the medical bay in a blind run, not running into enemies by sheer luck. The countless mistakes he's made so far are all that exist beyond your terrifyingly expressionless face. It's distracting enough that he's surprised when the team of Autobots appears from nowhere, particularly as Ratchet is amongst them, but before the CMO can say a word First Aid is pleading with the more experienced medic for help. He feels like a student on their first bad rotation in a hospital ward, facing the possibility of death for the first time, only a million times more agonized because you're on the line. The older bot is mercifully understanding as he gently takes you and guides him back to the medical bay, where he enters a fog and settles in to his job without conscious thought. He sees everything; Ratchet stabilizes you with proper equipment, wounded bots start to come in with news the battle is over, the systems maintaining the ship all come completely online... None of it registers.

·All he can think of is how he failed. The machine he built could have been more effective, he should have predicted oxygen issues from the start, and had he not been distracting you with his foolish interests to begin with... It physically hurts, but he doesn't allow himself even a moment of reprieve from the self admonishment, and dedicates himself entirely to your wellbeing. Every tiny facet of your recovery is microanalyzed, down to the thousandth of a percent. He won't risk losing you to more of his mistakes. It's bad enough that he doesn't permit joy to show on his face when you finally begin to stir, not even cracking a smile when your beautiful eyes finally blink open and you look into his visor. Your own expression, however, immediately shifts to one of exhausted but emphatic relief. Seeing the bot you love alive after the chaos you remember enduring is more than you could have asked for.

·He can't help but be incredibly gentle as he asks how you feel, his affection too strong to ever suppress in its entirety. But you can see the struggle in his actions, having become so accustomed to his presence that the out of character reservation is as obvious to you as a fireworks display, so you quickly ask if he's okay after everything that happened. The innocent question actually makes him flinch. Not a moment later he breaks and loses the calm air of a medic, collapsing into a nearby chair to confess that your injuries are his fault, caused by a myriad of failures he can't reconcile. Head in his hands, he's caught off guard when you make an effort to move from your little bundle of blankets and tubes keeping you stable.

·Before he can say a word to stop you, he is silenced by a little hand taking hold of his digit, and though the mask is firmly fitted you still speak loud and clear enough for him to hear the firmness in your voice. As lovingly as you can, you insist that he stop what he's doing. Loving him is worth any risk, but because he's as resourceful and brilliant as he is, you had made it through a situation most wouldn't have survived. The rest of the universe may not always see his worth, but you do every time you see him. Growing dizzy from the force of your conviction, you're gently shushed and encouraged to lie back, yet to your exhausted delight First Aid appears anything but pained as he works. Adjusting your blankets and tenderly ensuring your comfort, he doesn't need to say thank you through anything but his actions. As always, you've brought him back down from that exhausting despair he grappled with so often in the past. After all, he must be capable indeed to have earned the love of someone so wonderful and unique. The least he can do is show his gratitude in a gentle brush of his thumb over your palm as you drift back to sleep.

[closedmadness]

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒

summary: you’re a northsider, but an addam — part of the famous addams family. maybe that’s why you were different from all the northsiders in riverdale high, and sweet pea found himself falling for you as soon as he knew you aren’t like the others.

pairings: sweet pea x addams!male reader

warnings → fluff・reader being weird like the addams family・mention of disturbing things・swearing・reader being sassy?

the serpents entered through the doors of riverdale high, gathering too many attentions from the students as they approached the registration table veronica lodge had set.

everyone watched as she began to welcome the serpents with open arms while you just stood in the corner leaning on your locker reading a horror book. you probably stood out from the students as your type of clothing were rather dark and punk-like, and although many people found you disturbing you didn’t care. you were an Addams after all.

you kept reading your book until cheryl and her dog reggie appeared, disturbing your reading time annoyingly.

these two are the only people you can’t stand, simply because they’re too annoying and only the sound of their voices was enough for you to have an urge to chop off your head.

sighing deeply, you kept on reading your book despite the noise cheryl and reggie were making, a bunch of insults smoothly leaving their mouth like a vomit. seriously, it’s ridiculous how they’re going against people who can easily bring them down. the serpents aren’t called a gang for nothing.

your plan was to keep ignoring them and read your book in peace, but unfortunately that wasn’t what fate wanted for you. “yo, addams. come here.” reggie called out, moving his hand to gesture for you to approach them.

a deep sigh leaves your lips when you realized they won’t let you get away from them and just closed the book, adjusting the strap of your back pack before approaching them. you stopped just beside cheryl, your eyes traveling to look at the serpents one by one. though, only one serpent truly caught your attention — the one with dark raven hair and tall height.

“don’t you think they should get the hell out from our school?” reggie said, smirking with cheryl. “surely, a threat from the one and only (y/n) addams would tell them enough that this isn’t where they belong.”

you visibly rolled your eyes; they usually bullied you and made fun of you for being weird, but now they’re seeking help from you? no, that ain’t it.

besides, you actually feel fond of the serpents despite first time meeting. the color of their clothes made you happy, only because it mostly consisted of black. black is the color of happiness for you and your family.

“serpents should be back in their own nests.” reggie spat.

however, your attention remained on the tall serpent. “is that a tattoo?” you asked curiously, ignoring reggie and pointing at the tattoo on the tall serpent’s neck that you just caught sight of after studying him for a couple of seconds.

he raised his brows in slight surprise; why do you seem interested in his tattoo? That’s a first.

“Yeah, why?” he asked.

“it looks great on you.” you complimented, causing everyone to look at you in surprise. “i’ve always wanted to get a tattoo, like the tattoo of a beheaded man holding his head.” you told him still staring at the serpent tattoo on his neck. he couldn’t help but snort at your choice.

“are you fucking serious?” reggie asked you ridiculously, looking at you as if you were some kind of a crazy person.

“i’m just speaking the truth.” you said without looking at him, proceeding to raise your fingers to touch the man’s tattoo. he tensed at first, but relaxed soon in your touch.

cheryl scoffed, “you’re ridiculous.”

you dropped your hand on your side and looked at her, “whatever. i don’t mind them staying here as long as they wear black. this school lacks of darkness, the only thing i see are pastels and a ridiculous redness of your clothes.” she gasped inaudibly at that. “i like red, it’s the color of blood. but every time you wear it, it gives me the urge to chop my head off. better wear more black like this serpents.” you said, pointing to the serpents, who were now smiling at you.

she clenched her jaw, “i’d rather die than wear the same color of clothes as this ragamuffins.” and stepped closer to you threateningly.

you tilted your head to the side a bit, “that can be arranged.” the seriousness in your voice made reggie quickly pull her back, knowing full well that you’re capable of doing it.

you slashed his wrist with a knife once after all. who said you can’t arrange cheryl’s death?

“(y/n), the southside are our enemies, not us.” reggie said with a warning tone, making the serpents let out a scoff, the tall male’s being the loudest.

you rolled your eyes, “i couldn’t care less about that northside-southside shit, you’re just making up an excuse to be a dick to somebody.” the tall male smirked. “besides, i doubt they’re gonna cause a trouble. snakes don’t really bite unless provoked.” you said, shrugging.

reggie glared, “this only means you’re betraying us.”

“i was never been on your side, mantle. though, maybe it’ll be possible if you just hand me your head so I can play with it.”

“not gonna happen.” he spat.

“right, ‘cause you’re too narcisstic to hand someone your head over.” few chuckles errupted from the serpents which made you smirk.

“anyway, good luck with kicking them out. i doubt you’ll be able to find a way with your fetus brain, but hey, trying isn’t bad.” you said rather cheerfully with a mixture of sarcasm before patting him on the shoulder and walking back to your previous place to continue the book you were reading.

“who knew he was going to defend us rather than siding with you who called him?” you heard the tall serpent say, causing you to chuckle at yourself quietly and a laughter to errupt from the serpents.

after that, well, you didn’t hear the rest of their conversation because you were pretty much focused on the book you were reading. though, you felt the tall serpent looking at you every once in a while, as if waiting for their commotion to end so he could approach you. and indeed, he approached you as soon as their commotion finished.

he placed one hand on the locker beside your head, trapping you between him and the locker but not completely. “hey, goth prince.” he greeted you flirtatiously with a smirk.

you looked up from your book and smirked as soon as your eyes met with his, closing the book to focus your attention on him. his nickname for you was so ordinary yet special. at least that’s how it sounded to you.

“what do i owe you the pleasure of, serpent king?”

he raised his brows at the nickname, “you think i’m a king?”

“well, you seem a lot like a king to me because of your tall height and intimidating feature.” you shrugged. “what do you want, though? usually people would avoid me because of how weird i am.”

“i like your weirdness, though.” he said, shrugging casually. a small smile appeared on your lips. “i’m Sweet Pea.” he introduced, moving to get beside you and leaning his body on the locker.

“that’s a strangely sweet name for a tough looking serpent like you.” you chuckled softly. “(y/n) addams, but i suppose you already know that.”

“yeah.” he chuckled. “that was a first. a northsider defending the southside.”

“i didn’t defend you, i was just being honest. this feud is getting annoying, insults being thrown here and there, why don’t you just quit with the insults and kill one another to end it instead?” the last sentence came out as a statement instead of a question.

sweet pea laughed, “you sound homicidal.”

you shrugged, “i am. everybody is. the only difference is that i’m not afraid to show it while they’re hiding it and pretending to be a normal, perfect people.” sweet pea nods his head as he mentally agreed with you.

silence took over as he studied you, taking your features in. he noticed your skin looking paler than normal, but the color of your lips still had a sign of life. your (h/c) hair fell graciously on some part of your forehead, adding more good looks on your already good-looking face. your (e/c) had a sense of darkness in them, refusing to hide and mixing with a little light. sometimes, emotions can be visible in your eyes, but it’s hard to read what emotion it is unless someone focuses on them. dark clothes fits you well and he figured it’s probably the only thing that suits you perfectly, since he can’t imagine you ever wearing light clothes.

“you seem to be enjoying the view, chéri.” your amused yet loving voice snapped him out of his daze and his cheeks flushed red, blushing at the fact that he was caught and also the fact that you called him darling.

yes, he understood french, even when he doesn’t look like he does.

he cleared his throat, “yeah... uh, right, i should probably stop staring.” he stumbled over his words and you chuckled softly.

“oh, don’t be embarrassed, chéri. i do love your attention.” you stated with a smile.

sweet pea smirked at that, starting to feel more confident with himself. now that he knows you’re loving his attention, he wouldn’t let this opportunity slip away from his fingers. he had to ask you out, he has to make you his. he decided that the moment you didn’t side with reggie and cheryl.

“so, prince...” he started, slightly leaning his head closer to you. “want to go to pop’s with me?”

you raised your brows, “are you asking me out on a date?”

“what if i am?” he smirked.

“maybe i’m going, maybe not.” you shrugged and laughed after seeing the smirk on his face slowly disappear. “i’m just joking, mon cher. yes, i want to go on a date with you.” you said with a large smile that no one has ever seen before.

a grin broke out of his lips, pure joy crossing his face. “great. you alright with after school?”

nodding, “yes, of course. but...” you trailed off, making him confused. you pointed your thumb at the side where your brother and sister stood. “you have to deal with them first.”

sweet pea looked at where you pointed and saw your two siblings — wednesday and pugsley — staring at him curiously, before he groaned, but a small smile plastered his face.

he wouldn’t mind dealing with your siblings if it meant he can go on a date with you.

© prettymadness — all rights reserved. do not repost or translate without my permission. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[dossi-io]

An introduction to DeVita

Do you want to learn all about the AOMG artist DeVita? This article will cover everything you need to know about the third female member to join the labels roster.

The content of this article is also available in video format, embedded at the bottom of this article.

Prelude

In early April of 2020, the Korean hip-hop label AOMG ambiguously announced that a new artist was signing onto the label. This label was grounded by the Korean-American triple-threat; Jay Park, who’s also one of its executives. This is a label with a very organic feel and artist-oriented nature, which stands out compared to many other music labels.

On April 3rd, the label’s official Instagram account posted a video. It was titled, “Who’s The Next AOMG?” where fellow AOMG members talked about this upcoming recruit. They sprinkled small hints and details by sharing their thoughts on the artist without mentioning who.

Around the world, fans immediately began speculating on who this could be. The major consensus was that it had to be the solo artist Lee Hi, due to reporting like this: “AOMG responds ‘nothing is confirmed’ to reports of Lee Hi signing on with the label”

A few other names got thrown in fan speculations like Hanbin (B.I), previous member of IKON, Jvcki Wai, and MOON (문) aka Moon Sujin. This despite a few of these already being signed to other labels.

On April 6th, three days later, the account was updated with a part two. This time dropping more hints, which would exclude many names from fan speculations.

On the 7th of April, the label’s official Instagram account posted a short teaser. The video sported an 80’s retrofuturistic setting, with a woman turned from the camera, dressed in all black, rocking braids, and some glistening high-heels. As it seemed to be a female, some were now certain that it had to be Lee Hi. A small few actually guessed correctly that the one who would be joining AOMG would be Ms DeVita.

Finally on April 9th, it was official! She debuted with the music video, from which the teaser clips was taken from, EVITA!, which accompanied the release of her EP, CRÈME.

What does the name DeVita mean?

The name DeVita, draws inspiration and meaning from two things. Firstly, Eva Perón – also known as Evita – who was Argentina’s former First Lady. When Chloe was learning about Eva’s life, it inspired her to combine “Devil” and “Evita”, thus creating “DeVita”. The name signifies the duality of how both Eva Perón and DeVita could be perceived. Either being a devil, or an angel depending on the eye of the beholder. Secondly, Salvatore Di Vita, a character from Cinema Paradiso, was also a source of inspiration.

An introduction to DeVita

Chloe Cho – now known under the artist name DeVita – was born and raised in South Korea, until the age of eleven. In 2009, she moved to Chicago, where she would learn English.

In 2013, she went back to Korea and participated in the third season of the show; K-pop Star. A talent show, where the “big three” (the three largest music labels in Korea) hosts auditions to find the next big k-pop star. However she didn’t win, therefore neither got signed.

Later on, she returned to Chicago and graduated high school. After reflecting on what she wanted to do next, she decided to make music. In 2014, her pursuit to become an artist brought her to the talent show Kollaboration. On this show, she performed covers and actually ended up being a finalist. Despite her talents, she did not triumph as the winner of the show.

Not letting these losses stop her, she started releasing music on Soundcloud. The earliest release I could find, Halfway Love (Ruff), was from 2016. Her catalogue consisted of both covers and original music.

One day, Kirin, an artist and CEO of the music label 8balltown Records, was introduced to DeVita’s music. He liked what he heard and the two linked up. In May of 2018, WEKEYZ, one of 8balltown’s producer duos released a track titled Sugar. This track featured both DeVita, and the AOMG rapper Ugly Duck. This was the beginning of many collaborations to come.

On August 28th of 2018, just a few months later, AOMG released Sugar (Puff Daehee Mix).

This was a remix done by Puff Daehee, the alter ego of Kirin. Along with this track, it was accompanied by a music video starring Kirin, DeVita, and Ugly Duck. For most people, this was their first time seeing DeVita.

DeVita continued doing features on many songs by Korean artists while creating a little buzz for herself. There’s one notable feature, which could be seen as an important milestone in her career. That is her feature on the track Noise, from AOMG artist Woo Won Jae’s project, titled af.

In a tweet a few days after the release of CRÈME, she shared the significance of this moment.

���I was still making minimum wage working at a restaurant back when Noise dropped- I wrote my part during my shift on the back of this receipt paper. This was about a year and a half ago. A little bit after that I got a call from Pumpkin at 3am Chicago time. He said Jay wanted to meet in Philly in 4 hours. They put me on a plane and the rest is history.”

The phone call she mentioned in her tweet, about Jay wanting to meet, must have been made around September 2018. Jay was performing in Philadelphia at the time. The moment they met in Philadelphia was actually captured through a photo of the two. However, this picture ended up getting removed later on.

Fast forward a few months and Jay had just released his Ask About Me EP. The project focused on a western audience, so he went to the States on a promo run. During his visit, he also met up with DeVita once again, as can be seen here.

Finally, on April 9th, her being signed to AOMG was officially announced and she debuted with her EP titled CRÈME. Her joining AOMG, looked like something that happened pretty naturally. The vast majority of artists she had collaborated on tracks with happened to be AOMG members. Getting comfortable with the AOMG family, likely made the decision to join crystal clear.

Artistically

Just a quick look at her body of work thus far, a majority of it is in English. However, she has no issues singing in Korean, as proven by her feature on Code Kunst’s; Let u in. The tone in her voice has this sort of mixture of many singers, a melting pot of sorts. It reminds me of Audrey Nuna, SAAY, H.E.R, some vocal riffs from Dinah Jane, and at times, just a tiny bit of Ariana Grande.

As an artist, she’s still in the early stages of carving out her own unique sound and style. There’s incredible potential here, but her distinct identity is not completely there yet. I see before me a caterpillar that within a couple years, will transform into a butterfly, with its own identifiable pattern to spread its wings out on.

From what she’s shown so far, I would say she seems most comfortable doing R&B and soul music. However, beyond a quick description I prefer to refrain from categorizing her. Mostly because artists generally feel limited when categorized. More importantly, because we have no idea what she has in store for the future.

Debut EP: CRÈME

CRÈME is DeVita’s “crème de la crème”. She constantly modified the tracklist to present her debut project in a way that held her personal standard; essentially presenting us her best tracks. The result is CRÈME, which consists of five tracks, with a runtime of fourteen minutes altogether.

This EP showcases the fact that she is a competent songwriter, able to write some soulful, emotional ballads. It is completely in English and all the tracks are written by her, telling both life stories of her own and that of others. A majority of the production was handled by her “musical soulmate”; TE RIM, but other notable names, like Code Kunst show up as well.

Tracks:

Movies, introduces the project in a very gentle manner. In the track, DeVita paints a picture of a criminal couple, getting a rush, by committing crimes together. The lyrics feel inspired by movies like Bonnie and Clyde. My initial thoughts were that, for some ears, it could possibly be “too” calm as an opener. It doesn’t demand attention the way EVITA! does. Simply put, it’s not a bad track. I would just have put this track later on in the EP.

EVITA!, is something different compared to what I hear from others in the K-R&B lane. I love the 80’s aesthetic in both the track and music video. Sonically, the nostalgic saxophone riffs, warm lush synth pads, thumping bass line, results in a trip back to the 80s. With this recipe, topped with DeVita’s “current” contemporary soul and R&B voice makes for an interesting combination. The music video had that futuristic 80’s look with the neon colors, and I loved how the guns she played around with looked a lot like the “Needlers” from the Halo franchise.  The title is once again just like DeVita’s name, an ode to the controversial Eva Perón. The instrumental was originally used by TE RIM, the producer of the track in 2017. His version has the same title as DeVita’s version and I recommend giving that one a listen as well, as it has a different feel to it. This track was definitely one of the highlights of the EP.

All About You, is a simple yet beautiful piano love ballad. Originating from her own tales of love, her vocals effortlessly capture what she felt during these moments.

1974 Live, is yet another ballad, but this time, with a calm guitar backing, playing a poppier R&B chord progression. DeVita’s voice is given a lot of space to be in the center of the track. As soon as I heard this track I became curious. What was the significance of this year, which would have her title the track as such? My questions were left unanswered… until the EP had marinated a while, when she tweeted: “1974 Live is about Christine Chubbuck”. In case you’re unfamiliar, Christine Chubbuck was a television news reporter, who made history in 1974. She was the first person to commit suicide live on air. According to her mother Christine’s suicide would on paper be due to an unfullfilling personal life. All throughout her life, she had experienced unreciprocated love. With this information tying back to the track, it becomes a lot less ambiguous and reveals a more cohesive narrative.

Show Me, is the final track of the EP, featuring immaculate production from the talented CODE KUNST. The sound is very moody, which fits her voice like a glove. This is my favorite performance on the entire EP, both lyrically and vocally. The lyrics present someone who’s fed up dealing with men, who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Now she’s looking for love with someone who’s honest and “real”.

With the project being a year old now, it has already gotten her nominated for both Rookie of the Year along with EVITA being nominated for Best R&B & Soul Track in the 18th iteration of the Korean Music Awards.

A majority of listeners seemed to enjoy the project. Many seem to be in love with her voice judging by the endless amounts of praise she has received, often described as painfully addicting, soothing, smooth, and so on.

I also asked a friend who’s a huge fan of Korean music, especially the hiphop and r&b scene to share her thoughts on the project. Here’s what she said:

"This whole project is empowering, in particular the tracks Show Me and EVITA! DeVita being a new artist, managed to impress me and many more listeners through this EP. As mentioned earlier, empowering lyrics with unique melodies and beats. Especially with the track EVITA! The fact that 1974 Live and EVITA! was referring to, two historically important women, is something that I love. This is one of my favorite EP:s of 2020 and DeVita is now included in my list of favorite artists." @Haonsmom

From what I’ve seen, only a few have been vocal about not really being too fond of the project. Some were left a bit disappointed, as they were expecting more hip-hop and R&B from an AOMG artist. The lack of “danceable” tracks was also a concern to some. Despite these criticisms, one thing was always mentioned; the girl has a beautiful voice and is obviously talented.

After listening to this EP, I hear a lot of potential. Being an EP with just five tracks, it definitely avoids overstaying its welcome. It’s brief enough to allow a listen through the entire project, no matter what you’re doing. My favorite tracks would have to be Show Me and EVITA!, but I found the whole project to be enjoyable. This EP is sprinkled with lovely vocal performances and simple but captivating production. I do still stand by my opinion that Movies would have fit better later in the tracklist if you’re chasing that mainstream ear.

I think the way EVITA! kicks you in the face, demanding attention, would’ve been a better fit as the opening track. In contrast to the other tracks, the energy level is unique, making the placement feel odd as the rest of the tracks have a chill vibe. All in all, this project gave me a taste of the “crème” but left me with a curious yearning for what this chef will whip up for dessert.

Bright future ahead

The addition of more female artists to the AOMG roster was much needed. Hoody was the first and only female member for about four years. This was the case up until late 2019, where she was then joined by sogumm, who had just won AOMG’s audition program called SignHere. Now funnily enough after DeVita, Lee Hi actually did end up officially signing with AOMG on July 22, last year.

Based on what I’ve heard during Devita’s Kollaboration days, she has improved immensely. This topped with her leaving the impression of someone passionate about their craft, bodes well for what's to come. She seems to be someone who'll constantly evolve.

Following an artist, at the early stages of their career, is something that I always find exciting. With such a lovely debut, I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for DeVita.

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Credits:

The first image in article: Original photo, pre-edit from @jinveun

Gif from the Sugar Puff Daehee MV: @moxiepoints

[buckyownsmylife]

v e l o c i t y - chapter i

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. It’s being constantly updated

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I could see Bobby moving around from the corner of my eyes, but I felt too tired to even just stop focusing on the bottle of beer I was holding between my hands. People were all around us - actually, exclusively men, but I didn’t really know them and didn’t really care to introduce myself.

A feeling of loneliness had covered me, like a blanket I wasn’t too sure I would be able to push aside. Because the truth was, I was alone. Now that my dad was gone, I had no one to really count on.

Just then, I felt someone squeezing my shoulder and I forced myself to smile, because I knew I was being unfair. I knew Bobby would never leave me alone, not when he was my godfather and had always cared so deeply for me. But that didn’t make any of this any less hard.

Breathing deeply, I forced myself to get up from the couch and stretch my muscles before deciding to escape through the back door just so I could get a bit of fresh air out on the porch. Too many alphas in a single house and any unmated omega like myself would start to get crazy, even when we didn’t necessarily have any reason to feel threatened. So I stood there for a bit, looking out into the plain field, just pondering about what the future would hold for me until I heard a commotion coming from inside. 

Curious, I walked back into the living room just in time to see three men being warmly welcomed by the hunter community that had gathered in Bobby’s house tonight. I vaguely recognized the one who seemed to be the oldest, but his back was turned to me and so I could only really take notice of a well-used black jacket, until a strong whiff of men’s cologne took over me and I felt like I was about to faint. What the hell was going on? My insides were hurting and I thought I was going to melt, so I held myself in a tight embrace in the hopes of keeping myself together when Bobby noticed me and while he tried to move me closer to the newcomers, probably intending to introduce me to them, the smell grew stronger and stronger until I was quite literally salivating to the arome.

Bobby extended his arm to get the familiar man’s attention and I immediately stretched mine to wrap around his wrist, in need of support. “Bobby, I don’t feel so well.” I knew his head whipped to look at me but at the same time, the man turned around and the last thing I remember before fainting was looking at eyes the color of honey.

It was already morning when I came to be. The sunlight softly penetrated the thin curtains on Bobby’s guest bedroom I was already familiar with and by the sight of it, I had been quite unceremoniously dropped over the still made bed, still wearing the same clothes from last night. That much was expected, not only since there wasn’t a single female in the house and I highly doubted Bobby would have let anyone see me naked, but also since yesterday's reunion had a purpose. The hunters gathered in my godfather’s house had a strict timeline to follow, if they wanted to get rid of the vampires that had murdered my father.

So I didn’t think much about it, opting to get in the shower and wash away the sadness and confusion over yesterday’s events. I still wasn’t sure about what had happened - I certainly hadn’t ever fainted before -, but I supposed the heaviness of what I was going through had caught up to me. I hadn’t really been feeding myself properly either, I suddenly remembered. Yeah. That must have been it.

So I put on a yellow sundress that was my mother’s in the hopes that its color would cheer me up and prepared myself to get some breakfast, because by now I felt like my insides were clawing at me, begging me to get something to fill the hole inside of me. As soon as I closed the door to the room I was sleeping in, that smell hit me again. The same one that had threatened to suffocate me last night. What the fuck was going on? How did this perfume open up my already animalistic appetite?

By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, I was certain I was wearing a scowl on my face, something I had never once before sported.

“Sweetheart…” Turning to my right, I found Bobby staring at me with a deep frown.

John’s P.O.V.

I watched Bobby try to get a hold of her from afar, and a small part of me felt smug about the fact that he feared what I would do if he touched what was mine. Then I remembered I didn’t care about this girl and made sure the best scowl I had was plastered on my face for when she looked at me.

It didn’t help that she smelled so… yummy. I wanted to eat her up whole. Still, I knew I couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Didn’t really want to - I forced myself to remember.

Fuck.

It had been too long since I’d had to deal with a mate and I forgot how strong the urge to bond can be. It didn’t help that this time I had two kids older than my omega trying not to laugh at me from behind their mugs.

“Stop that.” I slapped the back of Dean’s head, effectively making him spill a bit of coffee over his shirt, which in turn made me grin. Now we’re talking.

When my attention focused back on the girl and Bobby, they were a bit closer to each other, only on the other side of the living room, and they were talking in low voices. Suddenly, her eyes met mine and I felt it rise in me again, the need to pounce over there and dominate her.

But then she focused back on Bobby and I was left confused.

He was obviously explaining to her what had happened and that we were mates, so why didn’t she seem bothered by it? In fact, she looked as far from it as possible. If her expression was anything to go by, she was… bored?

Before long, they approached us again, and I was expecting her to throw herself at me or at least to acknowledge me as her mate in any way. That’s what I was prepared for. I knew what I was going to say to let her down as gently as possible. But what actually happened is that she went around the table and directly into the kitchen, turning on the stove.

“How about eggs and bacon for breakfast? Does anyone want some?” I swear I could hear fucking crickets singing outside, despite the fact that it was early morning. Was she really going to completely ignore me? “Hello? Eggs, bacon, answer me or you won’t be fed.” My boys jumped to action at the threat and I tried to make sense of what was happening while forcing myself to ignore just how cute she looked with her head tilted and a hand on her hip.

She cooked in silence then, not even granting me a look. I was beyond surprised by now. What the hell was I supposed to do about this?

As the plate of breakfast was laid in front of us, she took her seat next to Bobby, which just so happened to be to my left, but even then, she didn’t even glance at me, opting to munch on her food quietly. I took notice of the fact that she had a healthy appetite, instead of being one of those girls who tried to diet for the sake of impressing men, but my mind was still all over the place. 

“Aren’t you going to say anything to me?” The minute the words escaped my mouth, whatever conversation my boys had been trying to maintain with Bobby immediately died down. Still, she didn’t look at me. The little girl had the nerve to seem unfazed by my presence and my question, even my irritation. She didn’t even raise her eyes to meet mine when she responded.

“Why should I?” The question caught me off guard, and the silence that followed revealed it to her. When no one intervened to break the ice, she chanced a glance up, her beautiful bright eyes meeting mine, and she sighed, at last dropping her cutlery before straightening up to talk to me. 

“I’m sorry if that came off rude, but the truth is… It’s very clear that you have absolutely no interest on me as an Alpha, and since it is your responsibility to take care of me, even if it was to let me down gently, I don’t see why I’m the one who has to take your feelings into consideration and pay you the attention you didn’t grant me.” 

God fucking damnit. She was already the most interesting woman I’d met in a very long time, and when I say a very long time, I mean way before she was born, when my wife - my first true mate - was still alive.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

John looked at a loss for words, and I took that as an indication that I could continue my meal without further idiotic demands. “Would you pass me the coffee, please?” I asked, pointing in the direction of the thermos, my eyes focused on my eggs. Dean reached out and poured some in my mug, which granted him a grateful smile.

“It’s huh… It’s very good coffee. Bobby tells me you’re the one who taught him how to make it like this.” That made me chuckle, and I chanced an amused glance to my godfather.

“Strong, you mean? Yeah, it’s the only way I know how to drink it.” Another uncomfortable silence. My absolute most hated thing. I quickly swallowed whatever food was left in my plate before pushing my chair away from the counter. “I have some stuff to do in the backyard… Leave the plates in the sink and I’ll clean them up when I get back. It was nice meeting you.” I nodded in their direction, stopping only to give a quick kiss on Bobby’s forehead, and left without another word or glance. 

I was only able to breathe again when the back door was closed behind me and I was already a few good feet from the house. Fuck. Suddenly, I felt the urge to cry, and I knew that despite the distress I had been put under the last few days, it wasn’t only the death of my father or the refusal from my mate that was making me sad. It was those stupid omega hormones, trying to force me to go back there and beg for a forgiveness I didn’t really want. 

Stupid fucking nature. I was stronger than that. I had to be. Even I had enough pride to stop me from throwing myself at the feet of someone who doesn’t want me. 

I tried to distract myself from whatever the hell could be going on inside the house while taking care of the few things I could do outside of it. Granted, there wasn’t much. But anything was better than being stuck in that place, having to smell that mixture of gunpowder, scotch and cinnamon that made my head twirl. Fucking John Winchester and that delicious musk of his. I didn’t fucking need him.

It was with that thought that I popped open the hood of one of the cars Bobby and I had been working on, trying to focus on something other than my stupid body and its stupid wishes. After a few minutes of actually forcing myself to do so, I was finally able to zone out of my real-life drama and get lost in the world of carburetors and grease.

“Have you figured out what’s the problem with the engine?” The familiar voice brought a smile to my face, despite all of my current circumstances, and I found myself whipping around to stare at the boy towering over me. 

“Jess!” The young beta smiled at me, always as excited to see me as I was. He’d been living near Bobby for years now, and I’d watched him grow up throughout my visits to my godfather. Now, despite being a year younger than me, he stood five inches taller, towering over my figure whenever he stood near.

“Hey there! Visitors?” He nodded towards the Impala, and I gave him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Something like that. Bobby had some… friends over last night, and those are the only ones left. They’re supposed to be leaving soon enough, though.” I returned my attention to the car’s motor but the lack of sound from my usually chipper companion made me raise my gaze up to him once more. “What?” I inquired, inadvertently already smiling as I waited for his question.

“Do you hate them or what?” Chuckling, I crouched to search for one of my tools before going back to work on the engine.

“Why the question?” I didn’t really mind answering it, I was always just curious about how Jess’ mind worked. I wanted to know if I had any major tells. As someone who had seen me practically every day for the last month, could he see that I’d met my mate? Had that encounter changed me somehow?

“You don’t seem very happy to talk about them. And you’re usually excited about everything and everyone.” The idea he had of me made me snort. I tended to be someone who saw the brighter side of life, that was true, but after my father’s death, I didn’t really think I’d been able to keep up that appearance. Guess I was wrong.

“I suppose you’re right.” That’s all I said, sending a quick smile his way before returning to the task at hand. Jess helped, giving me the tools I needed when I asked for them, and I absentmindedly listened to him babble about his last year of highschool as I kept my focus on my manual work.

It was one of the reasons why I liked to help Bobby so much. When I was fixing a car, even if it was just a simple job, my mind was occupied with something else entirely. It was like my own form of meditation, only a bit dirtier.

I was almost able to forget about John Winchester and his stupid scent. Almost. If it weren’t for the periodical cramps that I tried to ignore in order not to alert my company - I definitely didn’t want to talk about it with Jess - I supposed I would have been able to forget about the Winchester men before they disappeared from my life forever.

That was, of course, until they left the house and gathered in the Impala, catching the attention of my very hyper friend. “Oh, wow. Those are Bobby’s friends? I can smell them even from here.

A very unattractive snort escaped me, and it caught Jess’ attention. “Tell me about it.”

“Oh, did they try to disturb you?” I had to smile to myself at how cute he sounded, so defensive for me. 

“Not really. I’m just glad that they’re gone.” And with one last look over my shoulder, just in time to watch John back up the Impala and leave, I added, “I hope I’ll never have to see them again.”

Chapter ii ➡

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria’s Prophet Ch1

I shut my laundry alarm, slipped on my flip-flops and headed to the basement to get the clothes from the drier.

My frustration lead my hands to my eyes while taking the steps down. I had been hyper-fixating on Sinbad's character arc again. Constantly vacillating between love and hate for this fictional character was driving me, and everyone who had to live with me, up a wall. I needed to get my Sinbad feelings under control before I ranted my best friend/sibling/roommate's ear off again. They would just remind me that you don't get to choose your hyper fixations. Or your comfort characters. Or who you're attracted to. As they've said before, "people are attracted to appearances and personalities. That's why it hurts so much when we find out someone is a bad person."

"Ah!" Vertigo pulled me out of my thoughts as I tried to take another step down after already hitting the bottom of the stairs. I groaned at my own lack of awareness.

The lighting was different. 'Did the power go out?'

The space around me was pitch black. I felt like I was being pulled. It was like feeling the current in a stream. I got walking.

A very dim light grew around me. All of the shelves of my basement were gone. Was I dreaming? I've been a lucid dreamer since I was 5 so it was possible -sure as hell felt similar. Given my mental state, it made sense that I couldn't control the dream like normal and only had awareness.

Hopefully, having to do laundry was part of the dream.

Worried voices came from a turn up ahead.

As soon as I made the turn I saw a bunch of people panicking around a child on the ground. More people came from behind them to see what was going on.

"He isn't breathing!"

I had first aid training back when I was a student and had experience using it into my time as a teacher. I was by the child's side in a flash, having squeezed past the useless people swarming around them.

Long blue hair in a braid, open blue vest, turban, and a golden flute. This was Aladdin from Magi, and I knew what was wrong with him.

I ripped the flute from his hands as Alibaba and Morgiana rushed over. Alibaba pulled Aladdin into his arms and pleaded for his friend to hold on before I could check his condition. At least I had removed the flute so he wouldn't die.

Maybe I *was* a little too obsessed with Magi to be reliving it in a dream, but this gave me an opportunity to do a thing I always want to in scenes like this -hell, I've had to do it with real people.

"Put him down! And stop shaking him!"

The two just stared at me.

I gestured to the ground. " He's weak so holding him like that could hurt him. Put him down."

The desperation on Alibaba's face was one I've seen before in series and on real people. I knew Aladdin would live and I had training, so I could face this calmly, but he didn't.

My words finally register and he put his friend back on the ground. I passed Ugo's flute to them adding, "Keep this away from Aladdin." Holding the flute would hopefully give him something to focus on. "He was pouring all of his magoi into that empty vessel -basically killing himself."

Luckily Aladdin's breathing had returned immediately. I pushed up the sleeves of my oversized hoodie, and adjusted his posture to help his breathing and checked his pulse.

The crowd watched while I checked Aladdin's condition. His pulse and breathing were both uneven, and I felt a weird sensation like I could tell he was drained of energy -like a nearly empty well. I knew the future though so I wasn't too worried.

"He's unstable but holding together," I said. Alibaba and Morgiana were still in shock at seeing their friend like this. "He will live, and wake up when he's ready in a few days. I promise."

"Thank you." Both teens said with shaky voices.

Then I looked up at the crowd, "Can someone get a stretcher or something so he can be moved safely?"

Gold eyes were watching me with an unreadable expression.

How could I forget that Sinbad and Ja'far were in this scene?? Sinbad was the one who originally yelled to remove the flute from Aladdin's hand. There was a look of recognition in Sinbad's eyes as our eyes met, and I felt that strange current again. My stomach went cold. He might be my favorite character, but I also knew all of the horrible things he has done and will some day out do. And I knew I'd probably struggle to keep composure around him.

All the same I felt a pull towards him that I couldn't deny. I tried to play it off, and turned back to focusing on Aladdin.

A guy left and returned with the stretcher, so Aladdin was moved safely.

I hung back as the main cast followed the stretcher to wherever Aladdin was going to be staying until he obtained Solomon's Wisdom. The more space between Sinbad and me, the better.

I needed to decide where I was going next. I tried to change the dream. I didn't want to live through the revolt in Balbadd nor have to deal with Sinbad or my feelings. Still nothing. I could still feel that current strongly, so I couldn't be awake. And yet it seemed the only thing I had an affect on was myself.

A few people were watching me. I was wearing an over sized zipper down hoodie that was just long enough to hide my short-shorts -not to mention my flip-flops and glasses. I didn't exactly fit in. Even I thought it was weird though; in dreams I'm normally in a t-shirt and jeans or at least have my legs covered.

Thin fingers pulled my sleeve to get my attention. "Please come with us." Morgiana stared at me. I could tell she wasn't just asking me to come, she wanted me to help look after Aladdin since I knew what was wrong with him.

She was only slightly shorter than me. She'd get taller in a few years.

I sighed. I couldn't bring myself to say no -especially not when the others also seemed to be waiting for me.

---

After securing Aladdin a private room, Ja'far confirmed his condition.

"How did this happen?" Alibaba panicked over his friend. "This is so much worse than in the dungeon!"

"He used too much magoi." Sinbad and I said in unison. We glanced at each other, and I gestured for him to do the honors, inwardly cursing my tongue. I knew he was going to explain but I couldn't stop myself from answering anyway when I saw Alibaba's worry in person. I identify with aspects of Sinabd for a reason.

The violet haired king explained how even though Aladdin was a Magi, he was too weak to call upon the unlimited magoi of the surrounding Rukh so could only call upon his own.  Even a Magi can die if he loses too much magoi.

During his explanation, Sinbad had watched me out of the corner of his eye. No doubt he was looking for my reaction to the boy being a Magi. I couldn't find it in me to act surprised given the circumstances even though the last thing I needed was for him to pay attention to me.

I took note of his unnecessary lingering on my chest and bare legs though. Sinbad will always be Sinbad after all.

I decided to add information. "The Djinn isn't even in the metal vessel anymore., so his efforts were wasted."

"How can you tell?" Sinbad asked. I couldn't tell if it was genuine curiosity or a test.

I pointed to Ugo's flute in his hands, "The most obvious sign is that the star isn't on the metal vessel anymore." It was something Sinbad was going to take notice of anyway. "Besides, it wasn't Aladdin's magoi fueling Ugo, so when the magoi ran out during the fight there was nothing left keeping Ugo here."

Alibaba and Morgiana were too worried about their friend to notice the name drops, but the King and his aid caught them.

"Regardless, Aladdin needs rest."

We all left the room. Alibaba and Morgiana went to tend to more of the injured. Sinbad and Jafar were supposed to meet up with Masuru and help manage the situation, but instead pulled me aside to a different private room. It was the one with the small table they used after joining the fog troop. Sinbad sat on one side and gestured for me to sit across from him. Ja'far stood behind him.

"Now then, who are you? You're clearly not from around here." Sinbad's nonthreatening smile didn't actually put me at ease. "I could have assumed that you heard Alibaba call Aladdin's and Ugo's names earlier, but you didn't blink at hearing Aladdin's a Magi and now you even know why his attempt to save his friend didn't work. You don't seem to be a magician or a dungeon capturer." He smiled, but he was gauging how much of a threat I was. "Hmm?"

I couldn't blame him for being suspicious of me; I appeared out of nowhere, dressed like no one in this world had ever seen, and knew way more than average. He may have even thought I was a member of Al Thamen. I had to swallow my nerves if I was going to get through this. I tried to think of it like a business meeting, so at least I'd be half put together.

I shrugged, "I doubt you'd believe me even if I told you, King Sinbad." No way he'd believe I was dreaming. I purposefully said his name and title to make it clear that I knew who he was even though he hadn't introduced himself yet. I tried not to, but the longer I looked at him the more nervous I got, and even though he was the Sinbad that I had fixated on and found so comforting he still gave off a slightly dangerous air. I felt a light blush coming on.

"You'd be surprised how much we know. Why don't you try anyway?" Of course Sinbad wouldn't be deterred.

I sighed. "Then would you believe that I actually read this world's fate many times. And I mean more than feeling it's waves. I know exactly what's going to happen next."

"What?” the room seemed to gasp with them. They had been through many adventures and seen many unbelievable things, but never had they met someone who could read fate. The way Sinbad tensed when I mentioned the waves gave me a good feeling -almost like I actually had some level of control.

Part of me regretted saying it of course. However, I thought it would be safer to tell the truth than to lie and reveal it later. Besides, there was no believable answer I could give.

"What type of fools do you take us for?!" Ja'far yelled at me.

Sinbad put a hand between us, quieting Ja'far. "Can you prove that?"

I thought for a moment and looked between them. "If I can 'predict' events that will happen during the next 24 hours, would that be proof enough?"

Sinbad's gaze was piercing, but I knew I wasn't lying and returned it. His eyes were like molten gold with all of his focus. It was the longest I had looked at him directly since I arrived in the world. He was much prettier in person -too beautiful. If he didn't say something soon, I was going to start studying him and get distracted. He had glanced at my legs and chest a few times already, and I was ready to return the favor -even if I'd appear weak to him in the process. Seeing him without his metal vessels was a rare sight after all. He was a good art reference when fully gilded, but it was much easier to see his form when there was just clothes covering it. He almost looked soft; he definitely look about 10,000% more touchable when not covered in a thick layer of gold, silver, and jewels.

"Fine." Sinbad's words shook me from my thoughts. "What is going to happen next?" His smile widened. His sudden charming act must have meant he noticed me ogling him a bit, but I wasn't about to drop my guard for a gorgeous face even if I was blushing.

I answered, "Tonight, the person who has been leaking information to the fog troop will reveal himself -no, I won't say who 'cause it's more fun that way, but let's just say he normally stands behind the king of this country- and he will let everyone know that said king plans to sell his citizens as slaves to pay off his debt to the Kou Empire in order to keep his luxurious life style."

This garnered an even louder, "WHAT???"

I ignored them and carried on with my recounting of the story. "Alibaba will struggle with the stress from being asked to fix things by Morgiana and the informant due to his inexperience. You will step up again, and in turn become more disappointed in Alibaba's abilities than you've done already. Then while drunk tomorrow morning you will voice your disappointment only to be over heard by Morgiana, who will tell you of a past accomplishment of Alibaba's that will make you realize you judged him too quickly. Jafar will call you out as being a drunk idiot-"

"HOLD on a second! You seriously think he would sell his own citizens?" Sinbad's had to be remembering King Rashid and not wanting to believe his son would destroy his legacy that badly. Things were worse than he thought, but it explained many of the problems he was seeing in Balbadd.

I figured he probably only had such an animated response unlike in the original because of how I said it -like the outsider I am, without emotion.

I put my hands in my hoodie pockets. "Soon enough, you will be able to ask the leak yourself."

"Hmm." Sinbad seemed to think he'd find answers somewhere on my form if he looked at the right spot or he was just checking me out openly. His eyes were piercing as he said, "That's still a very serious accusation. What will you do if it turns out you're wrong?"

I sighed and looked away. "Probably the same thing I'll do if it turns out I'm right: try to use what I know to help people and survive another day." If I was going to be dreaming this seriously about any series, I was going to do my best to help, even if I end up changing the plot in the end. I've never been the type to stay still.

"It will be interesting to see what happens." Sinbad seemed to accept my words. "I do have another question."

"Oh?"

"What's your name?"

Ah that. I had been hoping he wouldn't ask. "Call me whatever you want." I really didn't want to hear him say my name.

"Then," the smoldering look he turned on me was too much, "how does 'Beautiful' sounds?"

My face became red as the setting sun as it crashed into my hands. I couldn't tell if I was more embarrassed to be called such a thing or if it was second hand embarrassment for Ja'far having to put up with such a man.

"Whatever! Fine! I don't know why I was expecting anything different from the womanizer of the seven seas, but here we are!"

Ja'far looked at me with pity as Sinbad chuckled at my reaction.

I continued spewing embarrassed nonsense, and left before he could try to to get anything more from me.

I can only assume that the two would go to do whatever they originally would have during this part of the story.

---

This was becoming the most realistic dream I'd ever had. I'd had dreams before with smell, touch, pain, etc, but this one had no time skips, and I felt hunger. In some of my past dreams when I got tired it was actually a sign that I was about to wake up, but it felt different here. It felt more real.

I couldn't take it. I either needed food or sleep or both, and I had no money to get either.

It was a bit sneaky, but I went back to the room Aladdin was resting in. Alibaba would spend some time there later that night after getting asked to save the country. He wasn't there when I arrived, so I was pretty sure Sahmad hadn't revealed himself as the informant yet.

Aladdin was doing as expected. I was a bit disappointed that I wouldn't get to actually meet him before I woke up. He was a good boy -a perv, but still good.

One of the corners of the room had a gap in the supplies so I sat down in it. Some poles would block view of me from the door and most of the rest of the room. I pulled my hood up, my hoodie over my knees, and laid my head on my knees. Hopefully, when I'd wake up I wouldn't have to do laundry.

---

Honestly, I didn't want to wake up. The air was dry so my throat hurt, my back hurt from sleeping in a bad position, and I was really hungry. It would be easier to just sleep a little longer until my hunger subsided so I could move to actually get food.

My stomach growled at me for not taking better care of myself, and I groaned back in frustration. 'I really should get up and feed the cats at least...'

"H-how- How long has that thing been there??"

I blinked my eyes open and looked up at the source of the voice. With my hood no longer protecting me, the sunlight from the window assaulted my eyes. I jerked my head back down with a squeak, "Too bright."

The voice was Alibaba. There were others with him, but I didn't get a good look. How was I still dreaming?

I think I heard someone say, "so this is where she was hiding," under their breath but I could have been hearing things.

Gentle steps made their way towards me and stopped about a yard away. "You're the one who helped Aladdin before, right?"

I lifted my head up slowly that time. I tried to look Morgiana in the eye while adjusting my crooked glasses. "Yeah. That was me," I mumbled.

She was crouched in front of me. "Can you look at him again please?" Her eyes pleaded with me.

"You said he'd wake up in a few days. How long will he need??" Alibaba joined her on the floor making me jolt.

This was not my idea of a good wake up call.

"Calm~ down~" I said through a yawn as I stretched my legs out then stood up.

I walked past them both and up to the sleeping Magi. My too long sleeves covered my hands and I couldn't be bothered to fix them as I yawned into the fabric again.

The two got up and watched me. There was definitely someone else in the room but I couldn't see them past my hood, and I was still too sleepy to care.

Aladdin was sleeping like he would be for a while. What was I supposed to see? "I don't remember exactly how long. He won't wake up until after his Rukh goes and visits Ugo."

A cluster of voices shouted "What?" and "How?" with varying levels of detail.

"Oh right.. That was a secret, wasn't it? Forget I said that." I really should have waited until I was more awake to say anything.

Not looking at any of them, I closed my eyes and moaned. "I just woke up. And now I'm achy from being in that position for so long." I flapped my sleeves in frustration and in an attempt to wake up more. I opened my eyes again, still looking down at Aladdin. "As long as you take care of his body, he'll be fine."

And then my stomach growled again spoiling the moment. My left hand pressed into my stomach. I really felt that one. "Can I impose on you guys for food? I don't have any." I was glad my hood was up. I could feel my eyes getting watery. When I was young I got hangry, but as I got older I started becoming sadgry instead.

There was a light clapping sound and a jovial voice answered me, "Food is not a problem, Ms. Prophet! Just come with me and we'll get you fed."

I turned to the source and saw Ja'far giving me his best professional smile.

[writingwithcolor]

Magical person in history, on not intervening on human rights issues

I am writing a dating sim/visual novel set in the present day. A major (non-romanceable) character is an ancient sorceress who moved from France to the Pacific Northwest in the 1850s. She is white. She is shown to have powerful magic. She also works closely with the main characters and develops personal relationships with them as she teaches them magic, giving each character comfort and advice during their respective stories.

Considering the events in America around her move-in date, there’s no way she could have missed the horrible human rights abuses going on, and there’s no way she was too powerless to help, even when most of the fighting and slavery was so far away. So I’m having trouble balancing “don’t make her a white savior by having her personally fireball Robert E. Lee” against “Hogwarts University is cancelled because Dumbledorette didn’t care about slavery.” I had the idea that the magical regulating body back home in France didn’t want her to intervene due to political reasons, so she helped out in small ways that could safely fly under the radar. She later realized that she prioritized her social standing over the suffering of countless others, so she began making a point of reducing human suffering as much as she could.

I can’t imagine this will show up in more than one small scene, but doing it wrong could really sour the whole thing. Is this backstory still icky? Should I just not mention it and let readers headcanon what they please?

I’m wondering what you think was happening in the PNW at the time for the fighting and slavery to be “far away.” Washington State had the Cayuse War at exactly this time period, Oregon didn’t ratify treaties and was calling for the extermination of “the I*dian race” in roughly this time period, and California’s Gold Rush created the California Genocide starting heavily in the 1840s, picking up steam in the 1850s, which included slavery of California Natives thanks to a law enacted in 1850 that lasted for 13 years. 

This is all from the top five results of googling “pacific northwest genocide 1850”, for the record. It’s not exactly hidden history.

So suddenly your character’s lack of movement in healing the poisoned populations as disease ravaged the area, in attempting to stop or at least buy and free the enslaved Natives being auctioned on their doorstep, or in attempting to get treaties ratified and honoured looks a lot more damning.

This is not counting any of the future events that happened at the turn of the century, including the Chinese Exclusion Act, the Hawai’i monarchy being overthrown, and Federal Order 9066, which is the WWII concentration camps (that included Japanese, German, and Italian individuals). This is just to name a handful of coastal issues in the next 100 years, completely ignoring Jim Crow, residential schools, the San Francisco Earthquake (which nearly had Chinese people relocated to the worst land imaginable for gentrification purposes, had the Empress of China not stepped in), and many others.

In short: she would have had hundreds of opportunities to end suffering, and focusing on a single event as a small scene feels disproportionate to how much she could have done.

And honestly? The French were no angels. 

The Second French Colonial Empire was one of the largest empires in history, and it began in 1830, covering roughly a third of Africa. The First French Colonial Empire began in the 1600s, and had both India and North America, primarily Canada.

She was white. French. You don’t specify her birth year other than “ancient”, but considering the sheer amount of territory-grabbing France has been doing since Normandy invaded England in the eleventh century AD, I’m going to assume her birth year is somewhere more recent than that. Therefore, I’m going to assume she has been around the Catholic Missionary Attitude that France had; one could call that attitude the bedrock of its existence for at least a millennia (and is still visible in modern day).

So tell me: when did she break out of it? What made her even care about human atrocities, when she has likely grown up watching France commit them her entire life? 

Because let me just say, she has had plenty of opportunities to realize she did nothing in the face of her neighbours’ hatred of people not like them, and she has never taken them before. 

Did she (or her parents, if she was born around this time) decry Napoleon re-introducing slavery in France in 1802? Side with Haiti when it declared independence in 1804, and hate that the government forced Haiti to pay for the “theft” of slaves and land (that was only paid off in 1947)? Is she presently championing for France to pay Haiti the money it wrongfully took from the country? Did she hate the delays in stopping the French slave trade, which took 11 years to actually stop after it was banned on paper? 

Unconditional emancipation was only reached in 1848, after all. I don’t care if she was born in 1830, there was some sort of major racial event happening in France all throughout the late 1700s to mid-1800s. Where did she side then?

Abolitionism was not an unknown concept in France, so it is possible she had already been working towards it quietly, but that would mean she would have felt guilt at inaction much earlier, depending on when she began decrying slavery—if she was even delayed in decrying it, which I will admit is possible. 

And if she was an abolitionist, would she have even listened to the French government in not at least easing the genocide around her? Because she would have watched nearly 100 years of the French dragging their feet on stopping slavery in their empire, and known how BS it all was… if she saw it that way.

That’s just abolitionism, and is not even counting the French relationship with the Native population in Quebec and the Great Lakes region, which is a giant tangle of proxy wars, colonialism, missionary work, and very, very, very complex relationships that started off good and ended terribly.

So I ask again: why did she only start caring then?

Speaking of proxy wars, the Napoleon Empire wanted a Confederate victory, because the Confederacy was its source of cotton and the American Civil War created a “cotton famine” in France that basically forced the textile industry into a massive downsizing. The Confederacy also tolerated Napoleon’s plans for expanding the empire in Mexico, which actually had begun in December of 1861.

So when it comes to how a magical board would rule—even though France was officially neutral in the war, the court of public opinion (among politicians and capitalists) was more on the Confederate side than the Union side. Many politicians secretly worked with the Confederacy, until they abandoned them when the Union showed signs of winning. The only reason France officially remained neutral is because a war with the British was inevitable if they acknowledged the Confederacy, and Napoleon didn’t want that.

I shall work under the assumption that because it was rather literally on her doorstep when she moved to America, she lost insulation to it (if she hadn’t thought about it before), but I will say how iffy that makes her look in the long term if she had so many opportunities beforehand (at the very least, seeing slaves in France).

My other option is the word “ancient” is liberally applied and she was only in her 20s or 30s when 1850 hit, and therefore had not had many opportunities to see otherwise (but she still would have seen slaves in France, likely).

Onto the white guilt and white saviour aspects

Strictly from a writing perspective, you have to determine if she changed the course of history, or not. This would not necessarily be within the realm of white saviour, seeing as white people were the only ones listened to at the time. You can see people who changed the course of history in this period by looking up the pastor who insisted Lincoln hold fair trials for the Dakota, which brought the execution count from over 200 down to 38. You can also look at Alice Fletcher, who made quite a few laws designed to protect Native people, but whether or not they were successful is up for debate (and she regretted some of the laws she helped enact).

If not, then you have the current tangle you’re dealing with.

Option 1

She was unestablished in America and relied on the magical regulations board to protect her, and she figured working small and under the radar would mean she could do more good long-term by not being killed, so long as you establish that such a threat is viable.

This option only works if she’s an active advocate for the slew of other racist acts that pass once she’s settled in America, of which I gave many examples above.

Option 2

She actually did change the course of history in perhaps a mixed way, or perhaps a positive way. She could have relied completely on being a white, well-to-do voice in the community, which would have granted her some privilege without using a drop of magic. 

This can apply to any point in history, seeing as there were a lot of others to pick from. It would be particularly useful once suffrage was achieved, and if she was part of suffrage, did she call out Susan B. Anthony’s racism? Did she encourage allowing non-whites to vote?

Option 3 

She was slow to care, and did not actually understand what a big deal it was that such atrocities were happening until it was too late. This leads to her dedication to atonement the strongest, but you have to be careful about white guilt. This option can go along with option 1.

This allows her to be a passive player in future racist events, but makes her an even more privileged white character who PoC will have a hard time seeing as kindly, and you should go out of your way to show white players how unkind and privileged she was, and perhaps still is.

Option 4 

she doesn’t actually care much, because she has a president of not caring about atrocities happening in France, and her bigotry shows up in other ways in modern day and she’s just a kindly-but-bigoted character. She’s your wonderful grandma who you have beautiful memories with… she just doesn’t care about anyone not white.

This can go along with option 3, as she was so slow to realize that she is still bigoted and hasn’t done any work, but her racism is going to be more covert and you’ll have to do research on microaggressions and how to frame them.

Based off the way her lack of action is framed in-story and how little a plot role it plays, I would say that option 4 with a dash of option 3 appears to be the most likely interpretation of her character by PoC. She’s lip-service to progress, at present, but seems to have made no strides in losing her social standing to be an ally.

Now here’s why I don’t think you should let readers headcanon her however they want:

White players in particular are going to minimize her culpability in what happened, and think that she did all that she could, and she is a Totally Redeemed Character now. In fact, they’ll probably wonder why she’s even an Atoner, because she did something, right? She helped, right? And now she’s helping and that’s plenty. She’s good to the players, so she is a Good Person.

Meanwhile PoC players are going to see yet another white author ignore the fact that colonialism was happening en masse at the time, and that white people deeply benefited from it, and are going to see the “it happened in the past why do you keep bringing up racism?” defence continued.

Let her be flawed. Let her be on stolen land and acknowledge it every time she teaches them something, and let her sit and exist in the guilt that happens when she realizes she could have stopped the theft but didn’t. Let her not wallow in self hate, but acknowledge her mistake with every lesson the main characters receive, and let her work on righting that wrong by championing “land back” causes that centre Indigenous voices.

Let her dialogue options show every trace of how the past is not over because the past’s actions are still being felt and reparations have not been made. The settler state is still controlling the land she has made home and she knows exactly what they did to get it, and she passes that knowledge on.

Let players be uncomfortable with the knowledge that, if they sit by and “only do small things when they can, to not lose anything”, they are complicit. Let white people see they must well and truly denounce what has been given to them by their racist, colonial ancestors in order for PoC to “stop talking about racism.”

Make her use whatever income she makes be paid in part to Native causes, as rent for the land she occupies unfairly. Make her refuse to teach bigoted students who want “mystic secrets” that aren’t hers to give, that were appropriated centuries ago. Make part of her life’s work be hiding away Black and Indigenous spiritual leaders to minimize the loss.

Let her past be imperfect. And do not force redemption on her, but instead let her own the fact she made catastrophic mistakes that will not be redeemed until land has been returned to the Native population. Until all forms of slavery are abolished. Until colonial powers give back all the resources and finances they stole from their colonized regions. Until the privilege that white people spilled so much blood to secure is no more.

Because if you want her to truly be a good character who does not support racism? That is the level you have to step towards.

Everything else is simply whiteness trying to make itself feel better.

~Mod Lesya

[hwallout]

quatervois - ljy

summary: “Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

words: 21,7k (this was 38 pages on word im,,,i birthed a monster im so sorry)

genre: assassin!juyeon, assassin!reader, angst, drama, fluff, crack if u use a microscope

warnings: (not explicit) violence, murder, language

early an: holy shit it’s here

The way you got introduced and became a part of such a job wasn’t exactly how one would imagine.

Becoming an assassin hasn’t been a direct wish of yours. As expected, in the beginning, this exact possibility had never crossed your mind. Growing up in an ordinary, middle-class household, it was expected of you to follow the footsteps of many. Never the smartest kid in class, but with a knack for logic and solving thought experiments, you’ve imagined becoming a philosopher of some type. Nothing too spectacular, but interesting enough and different than a usual 9-5 job.

So then, how exactly have you come to holding a knife against a random man’s throat almost daily?

Of course, while young, a person is prone to the effect of the outside world and people surrounding them. Some pupils are lucky enough to live in the best surroundings and are given amazing opportunities; therefore, they grow up into kind, successful people. Then, there are those who thanks to certain circumstances end up walking a different path, all of them hoping for the best possible outcome.

In today’s society, the importance of money was huge. It was expected that every family, containing at least one adult person, was able to deal with constant fluctuation of cash and sudden, unanticipated expenses. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in many households and those kids had to experience helpless life without enough money, while their parents fought for every coin.

It was incredibly unfortunate that it affected you as well, even so in the worst possible moment – right before university.  

Thanks to stupid reasons that could’ve easily been prevented, your family fell into dept, causing both of your parents to find second jobs. Not having enough money to continue with a rather expensive education, you felt obliged to find a job.

And of course, being so young and ambitious, but mostly misfortune driven, you thought that the future of the household was in your hands. It was a must to find something that pays good, fast.

Consequently, the first night was spent scrolling down the endless pages of Google. You searched for something that didn’t require any special education (because of obvious reasons), but would generously help your situation. Seconds extended into minutes, those into hours, days even. Finding a good job with no degree was pretty hard, yet what else could’ve you expected?  

The issue had you visiting most irrelevant sites, clicking on shady ads (and installing a thousand viruses, probably), asking strangers in online chatrooms. Lost and unexperienced, you struggled and almost accepted the proposal of being a stripper in a famous strip club downtown.  

Almost.  

The job you were suddenly introduced to was something seen in movies and video games only. For whichever reason, it appeared in a dream one night. The dream had you play the main character, dressed in all black, doing all the terrifying, dirty work with random weapons, but being paid a huge sum afterwards. It was scandalous enough to have you hesitating for a little while upon waking up, disgusted at the thought of doing it.

Still, remembering the money filled suitcase, you’ve overcome the initial revulsion fast. Unexpectedly intrigued by the idea, you thought a little research couldn’t hurt anyone. Finding a reliable site that offered information on paid assassins only took a couple of minutes. The author of the article was an ex-FBI agent, therefore you thought there couldn’t be data more reliable than this. Upon a quick look, you’ve come to the conclusion that the study was most definitely written with intent of educating people on this topic, rather than motivating them to apply for it. Oh well.

From an objective point of view, it was exactly what you were looking for. It didn’t require any special degree from any university and it paid horrendously well, with small variations on the amount due to different employers. Reading further though, you realized that not just anyone can become an assassin, or hitman, as people liked to call it.

It demanded years of training, hard work and terrifying change. The author described it as “...complete mutation of one’s mind and personality, utter desensitization to almost everything. Those people become machines...”. You didn’t doubt their words, on the contrary, you believed them completely. It was only logical that a person has to get used to blood, extreme violence, emotionless murder, which were no ordinary or acceptable sights and actions. Of course, you were in denial, about to laugh at yourself for even reading the article seriously.

But then your eyes landed on the pay again. The numbers were huge. It would definitely help. Your family needed this. Sacrifices had to be made.

The next day, you bought a burner phone with the last bits of your savings. Entering an empty alley, you immediately dialed a phone number you’ve found at 3am. You didn’t know what was the worst that could happen, seeing as you were dialing a shady number from a shady website with shady intentions. Maybe the phone would blow up – in which case thankfully, it was a burner. But that then meant you wasted money with no reason.  

Thankfully, the other side picked up and scheduled a meeting for the next day.

Everything about it was suspicious, from the first to the last moment. From the first meeting with a tall, fat man, wearing an expensive suit and a shiny Rolex on his wrist, to the moment that exact man patted you on the back for good luck on your first mission.

The training was all you’ve expected and more. Tears, sweat and especially blood were shed during that tough period. You were put through complete torture – whether it be emotional or physical. In the beginning, they had you watch videos containing mild abuse of random people, only to progress to horrible violence as time passed by. In times where you wanted to look away, a stern and strong man would yell at you, ordering to stay focused on the task – one that would make you used and nonchalant to seeing such monstrosities.

You were trained to take words, threats and even hits with a straight face, only to return ten times harder. Sometimes you thought that self-defense classes you were offered but never took in the past, would’ve definitely helped with the current situation. Simple pistols were immediately introduced to you, strange looking men always pressuring you into improving the mediocre aim. More complicated guns and snipers were thrown in your direction upon noticeable improvement.

Surprisingly, they began “paying” you from the start. The big boss said it was because he noticed your potential and incredibly fast progress, therefore used the money as constant motivation for further improvement. Unfortunately, the trainees you’ve encountered weren’t so positive about it, saying it was the boss’ way of making sure no one ditches out once they enter (“you’ll have to pay the complete sum back, he basically indebted you”). The money you received wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a good starting position.

In a relatively short period of time, a huge change happened. You’ve transformed from someone whose eyes watered at harsh words, body flinched at sudden movement and hands shook while holding a knife, to a person who had no trouble taking a hit to the face, only to counterattack by slitting throats.

Your knack for logic and solving thought experiments and predicting outcomes came in handy, for they’ve worked on further developing that as well. They created a thousand puzzles, testing possible situations (“you have to run away, which route do you take?", "two witnesses saw you; how do you deal with them without anyone else noticing?”), always questioning your answers (“but then wouldn’t that make you more exposed?”, “what if suddenly your target chose to change their usual route?”) and having you argument them thoroughly.

You were trained to notice even the smallest of similarities between two situations, perceive possible danger/risks, predict where a target would appear next based on their recent roundabouts and analyze certain types of behavior. Basically, they tried recreating situations that would slowly introduce you to the harder part of your future job – the planning, unnoticed execution and escape from the crime scene.

The boss had personally hired personnel to train your selective attention. Everything a normal person would pass by and dismiss, you’d notice. The unusual movement of leaves in the corner of your eyes, a black bird in a flock of dark grey ones, the inconsiderable change in a person’s demeanor, a reoccurring but overlooked detail in everyday situations.

Friends weren't particularly made in such a setting; therefore, like many others, you've been alone through it all. Evidently, you've noticed other people around, mostly teenagers who were just introduced to the whole thing – yet never really bothered or had enough time to go and meet them. Everybody was just as scared and hesitant as you were when it all started. In the end, who knew who you'd have to fight against in the future. “Save yourself a heartbreak”.

Interestingly enough though, there was a boy who caught your eye. You weren’t sure when he was recruited, for he never seemed lost or inexperienced. The boy would walk confidently around the training site, shoot exceedingly well at the shooting range and progress through his endurance training perfectly.

Silently, you watched and admired the handsome boy with attentive eyes. Everything about him was as captivating as ever, further piquing your interest with every passing day. His form and skill were envious, while his mature behavior and breathtaking looks stole your breath away.

Eventually though, the boy disappeared.

Your parents were a sensitive topic. At first, they were told the job you found didn't have fixed hours, which sounded like the only logical explanation for why you never came home at the same time.

When the training became more serious and the changes in your personality and looks became obvious, you stopped seeing them. The place of stay was a motel a couple of miles away from the training site (or the supposed store you lied working at). Despite their constant messages and phone calls, pleads to come back home and stop “overworking” yourself, you stood your ground. The money you were paid was still linked back to them, and after a while you were informed that the debt was no more.  

Unfortunately, though, you've come to the point where you didn't want to back out from this horrendous job. And a couple months later, the boss forced you to cut contact with your parents.

Maybe it was for the better, because it wasn't possible to predict if they'd even recognize you. Their daughter built muscle, had a scarred body and went through a drastic change of personality. The desensitization did wonders to young minds. It came to the point where you were able to firstly watch and then execute a certain violent act (on a specialized, human-like doll), without having to look away. The two elders definitely wouldn't want such a person in their household.  

Although there really should've been, there was no shame or regret once the trainee period was finished and your feet set out on the first ever mission and first real kill.

Fast forward a few years after the first mission, and you were considered a high valued assassin.  

There really was no proper reason, but the flow of the river happened to direct you towards the more infamous customers. Drug dealers, wanted criminals, corrupted politicians, all sorts of people involved with illegality hired you. Over time, you've gotten used to it. Already familiarized with customers, type of targets and forms of execution, switching to work for a different type of people simply stopped crossing your mind.

Your prices weren't low at all. Actually, they were one of the highest for the job, yet with a great reason. Despite the victim count passing hundred, there hasn't been a single case that was ever (properly) solved, the employers always getting away with their work. Not even once have you been suspected or connected to any of the assassinations either, and it was all thanks to your tactics.

One could argue that there weren’t many ways a person could be murdered, but you managed to prove such a statement wrong. Not a lot of executions you've done followed the same path – which only showed how creative but also knowledgeable your mind was.

Because of one simple hair strand, whose color faded a long time ago, they called you Red. The nickname stuck with you ever since those torturous, trainee days, and nowadays, it helped avoid using your real name. You doubted anyone even knew what it was.

An interesting period began during your sixth year. Numerous politicians, usually the ones that heavily opposed the new government, would be found dead around the city. Not just them, but gang and mafia leaders who became too powerful and prominent in the public eye as well – many of those who hired you in the past.

Much like always, this government experienced the lack of trust and satisfaction from citizens. Rightfully so though, the public demanded change after supposed rigged elections, finally having enough of the fake democracy. Heavy and frequent protests blew up the nation, huge crowds of people led by a few brave individuals. Unfortunately, though, a few weeks in, the leaders of those would be found dead after announcing the protest scheme.

The terrifying amount of sudden assassinations were never solved or explained. At least to the public. The huge leap in numbers shouldn’t have been thrown under the mat so easily, yet it just happened. People began living in anger and fear. All the officials had to say about it was a simple “we're looking into it, but it’s not our main priority”, words that only intensified the rage felt by the citizens. That topic would always be dismissed with the same exact answer, occasionally adding that those assassinated already had “worrisome and problematic backgrounds”.

“It was only a matter of time when something as tragic as death would happen to them”

The situations greatly benefitted them; they wouldn't make an effort to explain whatever happened even if they weren't involved. All of those people worked against them, one way or another anyway. Still, the murders weren't spontaneous, and just like many others, you caught onto their sly play.

For a little while, you tried getting some insight and information on the cases. Your intentions weren’t to solve them and serve justice, but rather find whoever was the one hired by the government. It was pure curiosity to know who was the infamous colleague.

The information given to the public (obviously) wasn't much, and you were left connecting all the different cases using simple wide shots and shitty descriptions. The best source of information appeared to be freelancing journalists, who published the most details. Unsurprisingly though, those weren't enough for a proper open case either, for someone evidently prohibited them from posting more.

One thing that had you frowning was the fact that everything was way too clean, perfect and similar to your own way of work.

Closing the laptop after reading yet another empty article, you looked around the dark room. Sighing out in frustration and cracking fingers one by one, you wondered if you're supposed to consider those people your actual colleagues or rather enemies.

The clock ticked eleven and fifteen; just forty-five minutes before midnight. The atmosphere in the tiny apartment was calm, no sound other than your quiet breathing heard. Darkness filling your bedroom was only interrupted by the big moon that greeted you through an open window. Yet, much like any other Friday, the outside world seemed to be bustling with life, getting ready for what's yet to come.  

Standing up, you stretched fast and walked towards the entrance door. Picking up a black coat from the hanger, keys and phone from the little table next to it, you headed outside. Tomorrow was yet another mission, this time a man by the name of Lee Baekgon. The reason was usual, another member of a gang who had involved himself with the government, becoming an unfortunate mole.  

Thanks to the extensive week-long watch and study you've done on the man you had gotten used to his ethics and everyday habits. The experience you had and the surprisingly uninteresting and bland life of Lee Baekgon allowed you to do so in such little time – which always brought more money. The faster the execution is, the more expensive it is, and of course, you cared about the amount in your pocket.

Now, having everything planned out and prepared, you went out for a relaxing walk – as per usual on the night before. The streets were filled with people, hurrying in all directions, either coming back from their late shifts or going out with their friends.

Setting a regular pace, you camouflaged into the crowd and breathed in heavily. Colorful lights from nearby stores lit up the street in a thousand shades, creating a unique palette out of the usually dull path. Your eyes skimmed over people, not really staying locked on anyone's head or scalp. All of them were plain shapes to you, only looking similar to those who you've had the job of executing. Either way, it was pleasurable to hear the overall sound of people. The voices, laughs, gasps.

Suddenly and surprisingly, as if trained, your eyes locked onto a tall, lean, dark blue haired man walking in the opposite direction. It could’ve been because of his height or hair, but he stuck out of the dense crowd like a sore thumb. The stranger wasn't looking at you, rather ahead of himself, but you immediately scanned his profile. An unfamiliar feeling spread through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

The man carried himself with a certain kind of confidence, his steps calm and collected. He held his head high, looking forward as if staring at an invisible dot, walking towards an unknown destination. His eyes, although dark and hooded, were sharp and focused. The nose bridge of his created a slight shadow over the side of his handsome face.

Unexpectedly, as if sensing your eyes, the man looked back for a short second. Immediately, a familiar image of a teenage boy who exceeded in all training fields flashed before your eyes. Alas, before you knew it the man was taking a sharp turn and straying away from view.

The organ inside of your chest performed one incredibly hard beat, before going back to normal. Someone bumped your shoulder, apologizing right away and breaking the short-lived daze. For another moment, you stood motionless, looking in the direction of the other, the blue strands now long gone.

Shaking your head quickly and picking the pace up again, you tried processing what has just happened.

You'd see the man quite often after laying eyes on him for the first time. He even had a nickname. Blue.

Blue's fashion was quite predictable now, for the man seemed not to prefer colorful clothes. During the day, his wardrobe consisted of simple t-shirts, black jeans and occasional black leather jacket. One thing that changed almost daily though, was the bag that he'd carry. Nonetheless, Blue would always walk as nonchalantly and confidently as ever.

Each time you'd encounter him, the man would remind you of that certain boy. Weirdly enough, Blue never once looked back, no matter how many times or how close you'd pass by. No matter what though, you'd notice the same pair of sharp eyes peeking through thick blue bangs – a feature you very well remember.

The second thing that would have anyone's interest piqued, was that you'd see the man at the shooting field as well. On the days when you decided on visiting and practicing your (already impressive) aim, he would already be there. You'd watch from afar, the last couple of shots he'd take before turning around to leave. The male never once stayed any longer. Blue wouldn't even check on his hits - he'd shoot thrice and leave immediately.

A thing that many would fail to notice, would be the fast movement of his arms as he pushed the gun back into his rucksack.

Over time, you've realized that the number of encounters with Blue was too great for a stranger. The possibility of it not being an accident started bugging you. Eventually, it became worrying.

In the dead time of the night, while walking through forgotten alleyways no one really passes through, you'd see him. On rainy nights, while everyone else ran or hid away as to not get soaked, Blue would walk calmly.  

And maybe he had always been there, yet you simply never cared or gave it enough attention up until recently. Or maybe, it was something more serious.

His sight would often be locked onto his feet, hands shoved deep into jean pockets. During the night, Blue would wear all black, a mask and hood frequently covering up his face, yet the dark blue strands never failed to peek out. He'd also wear the same black worn out backpack, the one he never brought out in the daylight.

Although you've met and dealt with many different kinds of people, never once had someone managed to make you feel so curious but anxious at the same time. Neither of those feelings felt good.

Despite your initial pleasant surprise, Blue became someone who you disliked pretty fast. It bugged you how the two worlds happened to overlap at the most unconventional of times. Whether it was when you were spying on someone, following them or coming back to the base with blood on your hands, the man would make his appearance. You suddenly felt as if this stranger had a whole insight of your life and knew all of your secrets. As if he was aware of your job and worked as a spy whose target was you.

Feeling apprehensive was something you never expected to experience, especially while out of work. For the first time ever though, you thought about executing someone who you weren't ordered to take out.  

Thanks to instances such as those stated earlier, you've developed a side mission over time. As if in you were in a game and suddenly had to unlock another small part of the main story to progress. There was an undying need to find out if your suspicions were correct and what exactly was so off-putting, upsetting about this man (who seemingly did no real harm to you). And of course, if there was a way to fix it before jumping to the last, desperate solution.

Truthfully, you never got any thrill from the pure act of execution. Taking someone's life was as emotional as raw poetry, but those emotions were never felt by the heart, much less the brain. Sometimes you wondered what your thoughts on everything would've been if you hadn't changed so much.

Taking another deep breath, you grit your teeth and backed the scared man against a wall. With a knife held close to his Adam's apple, the man gulped and winced for the last time. Fat beads of sweat raced each other against his neck. There was no remorse for the other – neither him or the rest of his happy family.

You didn't hear the pleads and wishes of the victim, as the cotton gag filling his mouth prevented any noise from escaping. The thin blade sliced through skin and flesh in a delicate manner, effectively damaging his windpipe. The man gasped for air, but only coughed back blood. White cotton soon changed color. Watching the white material turning red didn't make you feel any different, just like the eyes of the man who struggled in pure agony.

Only when it looked like the blood was about to create a puddle on the ground, did you remove the cotton. The other gasped two, three more times, too exhausted and lightheaded to take any action. With much force, you pulled the body towards an open manhole and dumped it inside, listening to the way it heavily fell into the water.

That's what drug debt does to you.

Closing the manhole up, you stuffed the bloody cotton inside your coat and hid the knife inside of your boot. Taking off black gloves and mask, you pushed them beside the cotton and walked in the opposing direction than the one you came from.

The connected alleyways seemed to go on forever, but they were no unfamiliar place to you. To say that you used them often wasn't a lie, but there was rarely anyone else doing the same. Light steps echoed shortly; the fog that unusually filled the tight space became thicker as you delved deeper. Suddenly, there was yet another echo coming from the other direction. The person was seemingly walking towards you. Unconsciously, you prepared to reach down for the knife.

Through the fog you could faintly make out a silhouette of a man approaching. Every step you took allowed a clearer view of the other, and eventually the full sight of his figure. With an exaggerated eye roll and in pure disbelief, you silently cursed your absolute luck. It once again proved to be just who you expected.  

Blue walked with hurried steps, something you haven't seen before. Upon coming close enough to you, he looked up from the ground, pace slowing down and eyes meeting for the first time in a long while. Time seemed to slow down as well for both, one short moment extending to unexpected lengths.  

Both were dressed in similar, dark attire, carrying a fake expression of innocence. Yet, the moment their irises met, a certain feeling spread throughout their bodies, as if they quietly confirmed it wasn't a coincidence that they met here at this time.  

No words were exchanged, the moment finally ending as you passed by each other. There was a strong urge to look back after the other, but an inner voice whispered quietly, saying it was smarter not to do so. Not even when the man's steps promptly stopped echoing and you felt eyes on your back.  

A couple of steps later, you picked up on a sudden, but barely noticeable smell of human blood. For a moment, you were tricked into thinking it was the cotton or knife that were stuffed inside your coat. Still, the closer you got to a certain container leaning against a building wall, you realized it couldn't be it.

Once a foot away from the huge object, you stopped. The smell wasn't at all strong, but still noticeable enough. You didn’t want to interfere with whatever took place, but it didn’t take long to realize someone laid dead in there. In the end, it was the smell you were surrounded with pretty much daily.

Dots were beginning to connect slowly, but you were once again forced into moving. The feeling of being watched was making you feel uneasy, but this time you were tempted enough to turn around.  

There was no one standing where you expected them to. He was gone.

Sighing out loud, you turned around, took a quick left and finally walked out of the alleyway. There were almost no people on the streets, and the weird feeling was finally gone. The walk back to the base was just enough time to analyze all the different possibilities that unexpectedly plagued your mind.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that it happened so soon.  

A few rather peaceful days have passed since your last encounter with him. Time seemingly fled by, but unlike many other, these days were calm. The missions have come to a stale; therefore, you effectively used your free time to do chores and visit the market. In the end, the fridge wouldn't fill itself up.

The thin paper bag swung side to side as you walked. Cans and bottles made an unrecognizable but even melody as they clashed against each other. Lost in thought, you aimlessly walked forwards, enjoying the cool gust of wind hitting your face.  

But then, in the corner of an eye, you picked up on a man running towards you.

He was in his forties, a body of short, strong and somewhat fat build covered by a formal, grey suit. There was little to no hair in the middle of his head, while two thick patches spread on the sides. He wore a panicked expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all but screaming for help. It took him only a few seconds to reach you.

“Miss?” The man panted, immediately bending down to place his hands on his shaking knees. “Miss, I beg for your help”.

Glancing at his face again, you recognized the other as Mr. White - a man who has been barking against the government quite a lot recently. The propaganda he preached was slowly but surely gaining more supporters, and it suddenly clicked for you. This little rat probably had a sudden reason to feel unsafe and afraid of experiencing the same end as many others. What a shame he was brave only on the TV.

For a moment, you were hesitant, unsure if accepting to help was a right thing to do. Especially when such a person was in question. You waited a minute, while the other gathered his thoughts and managed to form coherent words. He must’ve sensed your reluctance, for not another second was wasted before he began explaining.

“I’m sorry, I feel exposed and like I’m being followed and...” Mr. White went on, blabbering something you only hummed along to, while scanning the surroundings. The park he came from wasn’t that crowded, unlike the last time you’ve passed by. There were only a few families playing with their kids and people walking their dogs.  

Nothing out of the ordinary, yet a certain man walking a tall Doberman managed to have you interested.

“...that hooded man...”

Lips moving to form a smirk, you almost patted yourself on the back for suspecting the right person. The stranger was rather tall, wearing black fitting jeans and an oversized cherry red hoodie. Despite it being warm outside, a big hood was pulled over his head, and his face was somewhat covered by a cap he wore underneath. A strong hand gripped the chain leash that held a dauntingly big, black Doberman on a trained distance, walking in a calm pace. The dog was huge, with ears pointed up and forwards, steps elegant but threatening. One could swear that it could rip a man’s head off with one bite.

“Why didn’t you take a taxi?” You asked back, cutting off the current ongoing speech.

“I tried... I tried calling for one but... none... none stopped, please help me... stay with me, wait with me” He practically begged, knees bent and hands pressing together as if praying. Passerby watched the scene unfold with surprised expressions, some even mocking the way the male behaved. Frowning at the current situation, you pulled the man up by his bicep, not in the mood for any unnecessary drama. He looked way too pathetic.  

Nodding as a reply, you started walking towards the pedestrian crossing not so far away. On the other side, at the designated spot, you’d be able to call for a taxi.

The whole time, you ordered Mr. White to walk in front - as if your smaller form would be any coverage for him. Despite not being strong, the wind was still powerful enough to carry the quiet echo of footsteps behind you. The person walked with the same pace, keeping suspicious distance.

Once at the traffic light, you stopped. The panicked politician didn’t dare move, his limbs stiff and frozen like a paused frame. At the given moment, you weren’t sure if the man was even breathing – his chest wasn’t at all moving. Unfortunately, the wait for the light to turn green was quite long. The steps that used to echo behind you came to a halt as the suspicious man finally caught up. It was then that you turned around to look at him – eyes meeting with a pair that held no emotion inside of them.

Blue looked even more handsome up close and in broad daylight. With fierce eyes and dominant aura, he seemed quite intimidating. While his facial features now resembled a grown man, they once again reminded you of that certain young boy. It was a sudden flash of clear memory, something you’ve only experienced while crossing paths the blue haired man.

Blue attentively caught onto your interested gaze, for his eyebrow rose and lips formed a smirk. Slowly, as if you were supposed to notice, he glanced behind at the motionless politician and then back at you, this time with a wider smirk. Such a bold move.

And of course, it shouldn’t have surprised you that it was him. Coincidence no more; your doubts were crumbling down like a house of cards thanks to the sudden stimuli.

The black dog watched you like prey, hungry eyes tracking every move. Thankfully, it was properly held in its place by the stronger man.

As soon as the light turned green, Blue took off, not sparing any more attention to neither of the two. The Doberman trailed in suit, walking graciously beside its owner, following the exact pace. You let him a few steps ahead, before crossing the street with Mr. White who seemed more relaxed now.

Paying the last bit of attention to the young man, your eyes unconsciously trailed down his leg. Immediately, you noticed the outline of a certain object that strained against the material of his fitting jeans. With a quick analysis, you recognized the weird shape – it was a knife.

That was it; exactly all the additional information you needed. The young boy grew up to be someone you now worked against.

Work, work, work. That’s all your mind was filled with for the past few weeks, and with a good reason. Being an undiscovered assassin often demanded immense amounts of creativity (which really proved to be hard when unmotivated) to avoid similarities between cases. Sometimes, you even had to choose the riskier and more public approach, much like today.

The current mission demanded a month-long preparation and as crazy as it might sound, obtaining explosive was the easiest part of it. You were lucky to have a couple of acquaintances who somehow had the exact stuff you needed, and at a great price as well.

For exactly four weeks, you’ve watched over a certain man, a tall, strong and well-known drug dealer called K. Besides actively selling all sorts of opium and illegal substances, the man led a powerful gang named The Vipers. You’ve never been hired by that gang, but you’ve heard a lot about them through numerous connections and accidental eavesdropping. Sometimes, you thought that assassins were the biggest threat to their employers, thanks to the amount of insider knowledge they pick up on over time.

The Vipers heavily depended on their leaders, brothers K and B. The older sibling, K, as the stronger leader, took most control over their big bites, while B did the other, sporadic and less serious work. Still, they cooperated perfectly, working in sync to create a big, illegal underground market, that the government never spoke about.

Unfortunately, they got themselves into a big fuss with another powerful gang, Weiro, the details never once directly explained to you. There were a couple of things that you could’ve suspected went down, but really, it wasn’t your job and interest. Anyhow, Weiro employed you, with a strict order to kill K in an extravagant way that will have his gang warned properly. Their request had your eyes rolling back; music wishes were never a favorite.

For a whole month, you studied the man, all of his whereabouts and paid attention to the people he interacted with from an unassuming distance. While K probably lived a very stressful and interesting life behind the closed doors of his hideouts and warehouses, his everyday ethics were pretty bland and easy to predict. Of course, you weren’t the one to complain, for it made your job easier.

During that time, you’ve also thought of an extravagant but careful enough way to finish the mission. Thankfully, creativity wasn’t a skill you lacked most of the time.  

The plan was simple when broken down. Every third day, at 4pm, K. drives from his home to The Vipers’ main warehouse. He takes the exact same route to reach that destination in the shortest period of time, driving either his black Porsche or B’s red Dodge. Both cars were one of a kind in the area. There are exactly 6 traffic lights he has to stop at before advancing to the highway and leaving the city. With some advanced work, you managed to interfere with them through a tiny device that was set up and connected to a phone. It still didn’t work at command (which you wish it did), but it bought some time by prolonging the red light.

Thankfully, your city had a wide chain of sewers that spread under every single street, numerous manholes leading in and out.  

The public town cameras positioned at almost every corner were connected to your phone as well, allowing a great view of the street you’ll be operating on – or underneath, for a better narration. Navigating through the sewers should be relatively easy, thanks to the map you’ve studied numerous times. After interrupting the traffic light, K’s car will (presumably) stop right above a manhole, through which you’d be able to set up a 30-second explosive. The car should explode a street away, killing K.

Surprisingly enough, the plan worked out perfectly. With hurried steps you’ve walked into one of the empty alleyways, immediately running towards an already open manhole. There was a bright yellow warning that indicated a hole in the ground – one that no one closed even after a whole year of the sign just standing there. Looking around for the last time, you slipped in, sprinting away the moment your feet touched the ground.

Steps echoed through the empty tunnel, contact with wet surface only creating loud splashing noises. Currently, the screen of your phone was split, half showing the camera display of the street and half exhibiting a blue button and a frozen counter. A few minutes of fast navigation through the sewers, you looked up, realizing the designated place was there. A quick look up granted proof that the plate was there. K was then taking a turn, only a few hundred meters away from you.  

With a quick and forceful tap of the blue circle, you watched the light turn red.

The powerful vehicle driving closer appeared even louder down there. When K stopped and the noisy engine came to a halt, the cameras were there to confirm his perfect position. Hurriedly, you climbed up, working the plate open with a miniature crowbar (that you carried in a backpack, along with the explosive). Then, with calculated and calm movements, the metal cover was carefully moved and the car was right there.

Huge amount of smoke entered through the opening, making you cough. Much like always, time was precious and there were only twenty more seconds. Skillfully, you securely tied the tiny bomb to the underside of K’s vehicle, closing the manhole up and setting the timer off immediately after.

The light turned green and the mighty engine roared for its last time.

Taking a clean jump down, you ran back the same way. Somewhere in the middle, you heard a huge bang, followed by strong vibrations of the ground. Smirking, you nodded in satisfaction because of yet another case well done.

Outside, on the main street, while many panicked about the car currently on fire and a dead man inside, the familiar blue-haired stranger watched with calm in his irises. He was leaned on one of the walls, laughing at the scared pedestrians and their clumsiness. Then, as if programmed, the moment you came out of the alleyway, he turned to face you.

Caught like a deer in headlights, you stopped in tracks. Blue smirked boldly, nodding slightly with a raised eyebrow – as if giving props for the finished job. Once again, an anxious feeling overtook your body, slight goosebumps appearing on soft skin. Gulping, you took a deep breath and walked right past, trying not to look intimidated by his sharp gaze.

Despite the familiarity you felt, Blue never once showed any signs of knowing who you once were or where you came from. Yet, it looked as if he knew exactly who you were and who you worked for currently, which was a worse situation to be in.

Once again, you aimlessly walked through lit up, bustling streets. Unnecessarily, you felt like a part of the normal community during these times. The chilly wind was somewhat relaxing against warm skin, serving as a distraction from overthinking. There were a thousand things that could go wrong every time, and thinking about them wouldn’t make anything easier. In the end, your skill and instincts never failed you, every move already memorized as muscle reflex.

About twenty minutes in, you caught onto a familiar person a few meters ahead. There was a small group of people separating the two of you, therefore they allowed short glimpses. Still, the tall, lean physique and dark blue hair that gleamed under the street light, gave their identity away. It was him.

The man’s posture was something you were already used to – relaxed, with steps long but calculated. His head was bent down lifting up for a second only, before falling down again. With the way his arms were positioned, you supposed the male held a phone or some sort of device in his hands.  Not daring to approach, you chose to follow his movements from a safe distance.  

A tall, strong man took a quick right turn into one of the side streets, effectively distancing away from the crowd. You wouldn’t have paid any special attention to him, if it weren’t for Blue’s gradual stop as well. Choosing not to blow the cover off, you continued with the same pace for a little while, ignoring the other as you passed right by. After about thirty more steps, you sat on one of the free benches that allowed a clear view of the blue haired man.

He stood on the same place, now leaning against one of the street lamps, phone still in hands. The device lit up Blue’s beautiful features, his stern eyes occasionally looking up and at the direction that man disappeared in. From his actions, you presumed he was the next target, and the assassin was only studying his behavior and roundabouts.

Although you couldn’t see, Blue watched the man enter one of the buildings, then waited for the lights on the 3rd floor to turn on and a window to be opened, much like always. When that happened, he pushed the phone into his jacket and turned around, happy with the final observation. You sneakily watched from afar, admiring the relaxation and carefreeness.

Then unexpectedly, Blue turned his head slowly, eyes meeting with yours. They found you so easily and that’s when you realized there was no cover to begin with. The uneasiness once again itched your skin. It was clear that he was aware of your positioning, hell, he probably even knew when you were behind him. The man’s eyebrow rose in an amused manner, before he looked the other way and walked away.

Something told you to go and follow.  

Taking careful and light steps between people, you tried to stay as low-key as possible, although the other probably expected – scratch that, knew – you were behind. His phone rang, an annoying ringtone interrupting the previous atmosphere. Blue picked up quick, talking quietly but laughing loudly at whatever the person on the other end said. Quickening the pace, you were able to get close enough to hear pieces of their conversation – unfortunately it wasn’t anything interesting, rather a casual talk between two friends. You suspected the man used this as a foolish cover.

Suddenly, he turned a corner, disappearing right behind. The phone call was still ongoing, his strong voice echoing through the alleyway for just a short period of time before getting lost in silence. You waited a couple of seconds before advancing.

It was your shadow that first made it around, but it made no effort of warning you about what’s to come. A silent scream left your lips, as the man you’ve been stalking for the past twenty minutes stood right ahead. His body was so incredibly close, minty breath fanning against your face. The corner of his lips formed a teasing smirk.  

“Hello, Red” He spoke, voice low, but with a pinch of playfulness in it. His big hand lifted up and reached behind your ear, taking a hold of a certain strand of hair. Noticing the expected color was no more, Blue frowned lightly. “Oh? It’s not red anymore?”

His act evidently surprised you, eyes wide open and lips parted slightly. The fact that he called you Red had only increased the bewilderment. A battle of foreign emotions started inside of your mind and chest. A foreign, bubbly feeling was fueled by pure hope that the other somehow remembered you, while the rational mind suspected the man’s real intentions and knowledge. In the end, Blue had never once interacted with you directly, how would he know about a hidden strand? Who did he hear it from?

“Hello, Blue” You replied, looking him right in the eyes and choosing to ignore his previous question. There was a slight tinge of dominance in your words, something that the other wasn’t quite expecting. “Nice to finally meet you”

“Haven’t you a long time ago, though?” He questioned, the smirk now turning into a light-hearted smile. Something about it had you wanting to wipe it off immediately. Nevertheless, his words once again had a double meaning. They echoed in your mind, replaying like a never-ending mantra. Technically, the two of you were no strangers, but what reason should you give him? Was it thanks to the faith that intertwined your paths or was it the history you’ve indirectly shared?

“Let’s just say I like to make things formal like this” The more you observed the man’s features, the more you grew intrigued. He was just so perfectly sculpted, and it made no sense that someone as breathtaking as him busied himself with such dirty work. Yet, God only knew what had forced the young boy to choose such a path.

“Well then, my name is Juyeon” Blue extended his hand for a handshake, once again showcasing just how big his hands were. Not bothering to take the gloves off, you accepted his greeting, somehow managing to feel the roughness of his palm over the black leather. A quick mutter of your own name was seemingly enough for Juyeon, for he hummed along and repeated it with the same tone. You didn’t miss the smooth flow of the vowels off his tongue.

Tranquility enveloped the small alleyway. Wind blew through it in strong waves, messing up your hair. Two frames stood just a step away, never once breaking eye contact, but prolonging the silence that swallowed every other sound. It was becoming awkward, yet neither knew how to bring up topics that obviously interested both.

“So, want to grab coffee, or?” Juyeon asked, breaking the suffocating atmosphere. His words served as a splash of cold water that brought you back into Reliaty, eyes averting their gaze for the first time. You watched a rat run from one trash can to the other, disappearing behind it in a matter of seconds.

“No, I actually have something more important to do” The truth was, you wanted to go with him out of pure curiosity, but a lot was holding you back. Even after imagining this exact moment a thousand times, you weren’t sure you were ready for it. Apart from that, there was yet another more impulsive reason for the refusal. You’ve been taught that everyone was an enemy when looked at from the right angle, especially in this job. Therefore, you were to deny as a precaution to not allow just anyone to use any information against you.

And what’s the most unfortunate was that Juyeon wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly your type. Which meant that he was both the most dangerous and safest of them all. The worst combination.

“But less important than following me for about...” The male looked down at his watch, an expensive device tightly secured around his wrist, “20 minutes?”. Blue's expression was one of curiosity, probably anticipating the reply to his remark.

“I had time to kill” It wasn’t at all believable, but the other let it slide with a slight chuckle. He glanced at you with an amused look, before speaking.

“Kill huh? Working so late?” Juyeon teased, the chuckle from before now growing into an audible laugh. Truthfully, this exact reply had caught you off guard pretty well and the silence that suddenly spread was a solid proof of it. Fortunately, though, the other allowed time to think of an answer properly, all while having the cheekiest smile spread on his lips.

“Why so surprised? Weren’t you doing the same a little while ago?” Juyeon nodded at your question, shoulders shrugging fast as if to nonchalantly approve of it. You were quite surprised with his quick confirmation that didn’t hold a pinch of hesitance. It felt as if he was perfectly fine with verifying all of your suspicious and letting you know about the trivial things. Logically speaking, it was only fair, considering how much he apparently knew about you.

“Well then... I can’t do anything about your time” Tsking to show fake disappointment, the male pushed his hands into tight jean pockets and gazed down. It was surprising that he wasn’t pushing the proposal, rather accepting the denial. For whichever reason, your pride accepted a decent hit. With one foot, he carelessly kicked a rock on the ground with a heel, making something underneath his shoe cling. The sound didn’t go unnoticed.

“I guess I’ll see you around then” Juyeon added, before turning in the other direction and slipping away. Before you could react, the man was already ten steps ahead, carrying himself in the same relaxed fashion as before. His steps echoed, the soles of his shoes way too hard on the ground. Upon a quick accidental look, you noticed a piece of shiny metal on his heels, reflecting off the light that happened to hit them directly. Huffing was your only reaction to it.

The whole way back, your thoughts were a hectic mess, one that couldn’t be calmed down, for they always wandered towards the blue haired assassin.

You never really liked warehouses, for they were way too open. Thankfully though, the one you were working in today wasn’t empty – crates and boxes filled with unknown substances and materials were scattered all around, as well as machinery that’s used to move them around. Overall, all of those objects allowed much cover and plenty of room to comfortably work around the broad place. Moreover, your steps weren’t going to echo too much in such a setting.

Today’s target was a man named Captain Lee, a case similar to about a hundred others previously assigned – work with government officials. You never cared how many people did what, but you supposed the most died because they hadn't paid their part of the deal or smuggled with the government. Either way, they happened often and you will never run out of work just because of that.  

Hidden and on a great distance, you watched Lee and another man (assumed government official) enter the warehouse. Unfortunately, both had a generous number of bodyguards, but luckily, none were allowed inside. The huge door was the only easy entrance option, but since that would immediately ruin the mission, you decided to infiltrate some other way. Working fast and precise, you climbed up set of drainpipes and entered through an open window on the roof. Done in less than three minutes – record time. Dropping down was a more challenging move, but nothing too bad, for you entered far enough from the two men to remain unnoticed.

Your shoes that were two sizes bigger, proved to be a bigger hassle today than ever before. The metal railing was very hard to move over without making any unnecessary sound. The mask on your face helped you breathe properly, the air being way too stale for anyone’s liking. Thankfully, there were no major light sources that would interfere with your cover. Full black attire matched perfectly with the semi-dark surroundings.  

The voices of the two males weren’t loud, but in an empty space like this, the echo was immense. It helped you navigate around or between the crates and gigantic shelves in the most accurate manner. The pistol in your hand was already equipped with a silencer, your hand reaching up to stabilize it for the last time. Slowly, you sneaked closer, back pressed against a set of boxes.

Then, unpredictably, something moved in the corner of your eye.

Stopping dead in tracks, your full attention moved to the staircase not so far away. It was protected by one of the huge machines – those you supposed organized all of these crates. Your mind promptly wandered off to the worst scenario – it must’ve been a guard you failed to notice. Gripping the pistol with more force, you aimed at the suspicious area, holding the bullet in, but ready to fire if needed.

Despite the darkness, you noticed a puff of blue hair. Lowering the gun with an inaudible sigh, your eyes rolled back, jaw clenching in frustration. The boy peeked out carefully, irises finding yours in an instant. He nodded in your direction, hand moving slightly in a low wave.  

Looks like the day has come when the two sides get to work together.

Juyeon seemed to realize that as well, for he moved closer to the edge of his cover, evidently willing to make a plan of action. For a moment, ego and pride made you think about ditching the offer, why would you ever need help? But on a second thought, he would definitely make everything easier, and who in their right mind would deny that? Shuffling closer, you accepted the silent proposal with a nod.

Although far away, the two succeeded in communicating through short signals, functionally organizing a proper scheme. You’ve got to know the male was equipped with a knife only – which really didn’t make things easier, but it was possible to work around it.

Juyeon got moving quick after ending the discussion, making his way around the warehouse. You watched his steps until he disappeared, readying yourself to fire at Lee and disappear if anything goes wrong. In the end, you weren’t going to risk getting caught because of someone else’s mistake all while already being so close to completing your part of the job.

Once in position, the other assassin threw a coin in another direction, the tiny object immediately serving as a distraction. Exactly then, both of you jumped out of cover, not giving the two men any reaction time before It was too late.

Juyeon grabbed the official from the back and covered his mouth with one hand, the other coming up to slit his throat, while you fired two rounds at Lee’s head. The pistol, although suppressed, made two sets of noises that still sounded through the warehouses.

Experienced, you knew that if the bodyguards had trained ears, they’d pick up on the sound. Therefore, in a hurry and with a wish to get out of there asap, you grabbed Juyeon’s unoccupied hand and took off running. Hurried steps probably made more sound than the shots you were worried about, but thankfully there was still no one that could hear them.

Juyeon diligently followed behind, holding onto the thin blade and occasionally looking back at the entrance door. Fortunately, both of you were able to reach the exit in a matter of few minutes. Just a moment before slipping out, he picked up on a glimpse of two bulky silhouettes entering the warehouse. Pay people to protect you, only to be murdered without witnesses. Bodyguards my ass, Juyeon thought.

Neither spoke until far away from the mission location. Walking through the woods, both tried making as little noise as possible, gripping their weapons tight just in case there was any more danger. In the natural setting, black clothes greatly contrasted the greens, yellows and browns. Nonetheless, the two figures silently walked through with determination.

Only when in complete clear, did the both stuff their weapons inside their attire, taking the hoods and masks off before anyone could notice. More relaxed and less covered up, you’d look like a normal couple taking a walk in the nature. The road you took led towards the center of the city, but it was a long, long walk.  

After scanning your emotionless face for a few minutes, Juyeon was the first to break the silence.

“Don’t you feel the smallest bit of remorse? He had a sick wife and year-old twins waiting for him at home” The question was a pure shocker. Instantly stopping in place, you looked the other in the eye with the most baffled expression. Out of everything he could’ve asked, that’s what he chose to say? Was he judging you? Was he expecting you to actually care?  

You weren't sure where he was coming from.

“Excuse me? Do you? Are you any better than I am?” You bit back, hoping the pure annoyance that dripped from your words reached the other. Juyeon’s face didn’t change at all though, it remained blank, as if your passive attack hadn’t even touched him. As if you were getting worked up for no reason.

“He didn’t have a family; I don’t sign such things; therefore, I don’t feel that way” The male replied, in a matter of fact tone. His attention wasn’t on you, but an invisible dot in the distance, somewhere between all of the trees and bushes. Still, he could clearly feel you looking at him with a suspicious expression.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes. I have a choice and I choose not to do it, simple as that. Not everyone works for the same people and has the same goals as you”

You wondered how can someone make your blood boil in such a short period of time. Much like you, Juyeon trained for years; it was a fact that he had no empathy for any of his victims – such thing was inevitable. Every assassin in training had to go through the desensitization program, and no one was different than the other when it came to feelings of this kind. So, what exactly was he trying to do with his questions?

Why did it matter if you cared or not? Why did it matter if someone had a family or not? What was the difference? Just because he worked for ‘the good guys’, he got to be the morally right one? What even was it they fought for? Peace, order, harmony in the community as a whole? Or satisfaction, more power of the hungry ones on top by murdering individuals? You had to laugh.

All these years of work and you’ve never once stopped to think about someone’s family or friends, for it simply wouldn’t have changed anything about the final decision. “No hard feelings” was one of the few rules of the whole ordeal. Killing people was your job, the execution of someone didn’t have anything to do with their sick wives or young children.  

You stepped forward, pressing a finger into Juyeon’s chest.

“Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

At this point, you were fuming, jaw clenched and eyes boring holes into the other’s forehead. Although your voice was hushed, it was quite authoritative. The boiling blood that flowed through veins quick only fueled your irritated brain. Truthfully, the boy did feel slightly intimidated, but more so intrigued.

“Get your head out of that utopia mindset. “Oh I’m killing because that helps keep our community peaceful”, no! You’re killing to make the rats on the top happy and get paid a fortune! You’re taking a life whoever you’re working for. It does not matter if they have ten starving children, or a sugar baby waiting for them at home. There’s a reason they should be dead and you’re not the one to question it! Much less using family as an argument! That’s pointless!”

Juyeon didn’t try and oppose your thoughts, only watched your annoyed being work itself up with every sentence spoken. The smirk on his lips slowly grew wider, eventually turning into an honest smile. Although not in ideal conditions, you managed to captivate him so much, and the man wanted to know and hear more from you, even if that meant you had to yell at his reasoning.

It was interesting how the tables have turned though. Juyeon suddenly wanted to continue observing and listening to you, admire this smaller being that held so much power and determination. It was only now that the male realized the appeal of doing so, after so many years of wondering just what had you looking at him from a distance for so long. The two of you were so different now, despite being so similar back then. Yet the one thing that hadn't changed, was the beauty of the young girl that had evidently followed her into adulthood.

He’d hardly admit it, but he was glad that faith had done its job at setting the two of you up again.

Thanks to your state, the next fifteen minutes went by without any more words. Juyeon kept a safe distance, a couple of steps behind you, unsure of what to do. The tension was beginning to make him uncomfortable. At one point, the thin blade placed inside of his hoodie moved, and the boy let out a fast yelp. The knife managed to shift in such a way that fortunately didn’t harm, but warned the other of its position.

Juyeon crouched down and pushed one arm underneath his hoodie, moving the weapon and trying to push it deeper into the hidden fluffy pocket. For whatever reason, worried about the lack of presence behind, you turned around and noticed the man crouching down, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Approaching out of pure curiosity, you lowered to be on eye level – not quite expecting Blue’s next move. Just to break the unbearable tension, he thought.

With a quick grasp of your arm, Juyeon pulled you towards him, falling back into the soft grass. The two figures fell down, one of which was smirking wide with hooded eyes and the other wore an astonished expression.

“You see Red, you’re some type of enemy for the regime as well, working for sketchy people and killing unnoticed... Be more careful, otherwise I can make some money off you too” The boy joked, voice calm but low. His sudden change of demeanor had you pleasantly surprised and without much thought, you joined in on the play. Situated on top of him, you lowered yourself down, just a few inches away from his face.

“Oh, you can, but you won’t” You replied back, a smirk of your own bidding its hello.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Juyeon answered, suddenly pressing something sharp against your stomach. In any other instance, the action would have immediately set off your self-defense mechanism, but right now, the man was allowed to have his harmless fun. Somehow, you felt the other wasn’t a threat, and your senses never lied to you.

“Because it’s against your morals, pretty boy. You wouldn’t dare. You kill only when ordered and I highly doubt I was ever on your list” With that, you managed to take home a doubtless checkmate. The man tried ignoring the way you called him for the second time that day. Slowly but surely, you took a hold of Juyeon’s big hand that held the weapon and moved it away to a much safer distance. The other let you, without any protest or fight back.

“Plus... I don’t think I’m working against you; I don’t touch anyone else but the bad guys, remember?”

At such close proximity, it was possible to predict what were the thoughts of both. Unexpectedly though, beside a moment-driven need to press your lips together, there was a hidden feeling of understanding and content. Both remained in the exact position for a little while, breathing the same air and enjoying this unique situation.

Without any special reason, you lifted up and touched Juyeon's nose with a soft finger. The act changed the atmosphere quick and caused both to giggle, pleasantly surprised to experience it recklessly Mindfully, you then hoisted yourself up and off the boy, helping him get on his feet as well.

An imperceptible crack formed inside of your soul, something that was just a beginning of a storm.

The next two weeks passed by without any encounters. You took time off to regain energy before moving onto the next scheduled and fixed mission, while Juyeon busied himself with the usual, easy executions. He’d run around the city, hang about in underground passages throughout the day and sneak through alleyways during the night. His victims weren’t big bites at all, for he had gotten used to simple cases of unprotected individuals.  

Juyeon has always been covered by the government, which was to be expected since he did work for them. Every single life the assassin had taken, was never recorded in his dossier, for it remained as clean as ever. The cases he and a few other colleagues worked on were never investigated properly, always thrown under the mat or closed by the court after a few days. It often happened that innocent people were forced to take blame, just so the families of victims felt ‘content’ and ‘justice’ - despite it being far away from that.

The boy had a proper reason for why he chose the path of paid assassination. It's not rare to hear that people who’re born in a violent environment grow up to be violent as well – and unfortunately that was exactly what happened to the blue haired assassin.

Juyeon was only seven when he had lost a dear parent. On an unfortunate night, his father had come home shitface drunk and proceeded to beat up his mother. It was sad to say, but the boy, as well as his younger brother, were used to violence, as it occurred almost daily. Their mother would always usher the two youngsters into their rooms, before she strongly took all of the anger of the older so her kids wouldn’t have to. The man had rarely ever come home sober, and the number of times they listened to the pitiful gasps and cries downstairs was way too great to count.

Still, one night, Juyeon noticed his mother laying on the ground in a pool of red liquid and her mouth parted with eyes fixed on an invisible dot. The father, enraged and unable to process the situation properly, lunged towards him. With extreme amount of luck, Juyeon managed to shield his younger brother for a second, immediately grabbing him by the hand and running out into the open.

Even so young, Juyeon was aware of everything. Raindrops fell in an even, calm rhythm on the pavement while the sky flashed every now and then. He ran almost barefoot, the socks on his feet soaked by the wet pavement. All the time, he held tight onto the younger’s hand, encouraging him to continue running despite everything else. The teddybear his brother carried was dragged along the ground, plastic nose creating a strange noise over asphalt ground.

It took a long time until they were able to find someone on the streets in such weather. One young and reliable looking woman stood under a shop shade, seemingly waiting for the pour to stop. Mindfully though, she ran out of cover to help the same moment they came into view. The woman was shocked and distressed, listening to the heartbreaking story of two young souls who spoke through never-ending tears, their voices breaking with every sob.

Juyeon and his brother were taken into custody quick, and their father was arrested in a matter of one day. Sadly, the siblings were soon separated, both going into different families due to unknown circumstances. They never saw each other again.

Juyeon grew up into a teenager with a never dying urge to get revenge on his father. The picture of his mother lying dead on the ground replayed behind his eyelids every time they closed, it only fueling the hidden fury. He couldn’t fall asleep easily and when it somehow happened, he wouldn’t sleep for long as the image would haunt his young mind even then. Juyeon was unwillingly updated on the state of his father, who he visited not even once.

Either way, Juyeon silently plotted how to get back on the remaining parent, not letting anyone know anything about those plans – which fell apart in the end. The elder died in prison two years later – cause unknown. Juyeon hadn’t bothered to go to the funeral.

The teen ended up without a revenge, nor the justice he thought his mother deserved. Juyeon turned towards bad habits and streets fights, often falling victim to toxic relationships. Everything he did was to ease off the horrible feeling of guilt and anger he simultaneously felt. Secretly, everyone feared him, his sharp words and skills, despite the boy never doing any intentional harm to others without a proper reason. The fights Juyeon got into were only when he felt immoraly wronged, or when someone really pissed him off.  

Eventually, the boy was introduced to the job he’d later become a professional at. Young Juyeon thoroughly thought this tough decision over many times, especially when standing before the big, bossy man who immediately offered him a contract. The older said that people like him tend to be perfect for the job, particularly when driven by a certain emotion – something that would drive them on. At first, Juyeon wasn’t sure where he would end up with a “degree” in assassination, therefore hesitance was a reasonable reaction.  

Sly as a fox though, the boss used unfortunate history against the rookie. Juyeon was told that if he did well enough, there’s a chance he’d be accepted into the government guard – and it fought for justice and peace.  

It was surprising how kids of different backgrounds happen to receive the same treatment and training, only to end up on different places again. One could think that since everyone experienced identical programs, they were meant to work together – when it was the exact opposite. The minor differences in performance and work ethics that could easily be overlooked, were the ones that labeled you a certain position. And unfortunately, it often depended on just what kind of person they turned you into.

Juyeon thought about his time there often. Short pieces of memory flying by and disappearing in an instant. The six years he spent watching different clips of torture and learning how to flawlessly execute a silent murder. All the days his mobility was challenged – running the same course, climbing different heights and crawling through miniature gaps while carrying different weapons.

He thought about all the different people there, all of the kids that he watched get beat up and heard scream – many of those giving up after only days of training.  

But she never did.

The little girl that always observed his practices and paid attention to his every move, as if she was trying to remember them as well. He remembered the younger taking everything thrown at her like a complete champion, determination and will for success written over her face in bold letters. Juyeon always wondered just what it was that made her so persistent.

Shivers ran down his spine as the face of the little girl in his head took on familiar lines. They formed a mature and stoic, yet beautiful as ever face. Juyeon sighed loudly, still not processing the fact that faith made it be so their paths crossed again.

How exactly the two of you managed to find each other so fast in a club full of people, was unexplainable. It could’ve been a sixth sense that you’ve developed, for the two pairs of eyes immediately locked the moment you walked in. Thanks to previous experiences and an uninteresting game of guessing, you’ve come to the realization that once again, the playing field was same for both.

Slowly creeping up to the man, you threw your hands around his neck, attempting to dance to whatever song the DJ was remixing. It was an easy way to get blended into the crowd and communicate with the other without raising suspicion. Flashing colorful lights along with the excessive amount of fake mist and sweaty people once again reminded of the reason why you didn’t like clubs. But alas, work had to be done.  

Juyeon had caught onto your plan, but the smirk and hooded eyes clearly showed that he was quite amused with your boldness. Carefully, his big hands creeped up to your hips, bringing close to his and swaying them to the beat of the song. With a gasp of surprise, you giggled, turning around in Juyeon’s hold, back pressed flush against his strong chest. The male’s head moved closer, lips lingering just above your ear. Out of pure curiosity, with a swift move, your ass ground against Juyeon’s crotch, eliciting the sweetest gasp in return. Before any remark could be made, you glanced back, speaking in such a volume that no one else heard.

“Who is it tonight?”  

“One of the sisters, Yuri” Juyeon replied, voice low and rough, soft lips finally touching your ear. The grip on your hips tightened, as a precaution to not dare pull the same trick twice. Although the colorful tints of flashing lights turned the whole room into hectic mess, Juyeon was thankful for it hid the flush that unknowingly overtook his features.

“Oh, how exciting!” You replied in a sarcastic tone. “I’m here because of Aria!” The answer received a hum of understanding in return.  

The two sisters, Aria and Yuri, while not the most influential on the streets, had managed to get themselves involved in quite a few problems with the big ones, for a short period of time. To know that the fall of both happened due to one’s mistakes was slightly disappointing. It was one of those rare cases you were disclosed all details, and simply put, it had your eyes rolling back. Everything could’ve been easily sorted out.

Despite being twins, they were complete opposites. Aria was always the calm, calculated and careful sibling, while Yuri ran around, causing problems, concerning herself with illegal jobs and getting away with it thanks to her connections. Those associates often asked for something in return, and more often than not, it was someone with some type of political power. You guessed that’s why Juyeon was here tonight. Can’t say it wasn’t to be expected.

Aria, although the more mature twin, got dragged into everything thanks to Yuri. Surprisingly enough, she managed to find a place in the community fast. At first, Aria often did the dirty and hard work of finding new druggie customers for her bosses. Eventually, she progressed and ranked up significantly (no one really knows how she did it so fast), finally allowed to deal crack and heroine by herself – while of course having to pay a percentage back to the leader. The semi-autonomy was there in theory.  

It all went smooth and well until Yuri found out. To her irrational brain, it only meant free shots of fun every time she needed it. Therefore, like a fool, Yuri started using the drugs her sister had to sell, without giving a coin back. Whatever the reason was, Aria let her.

Debt happened fast, as Aria couldn’t pay back enough money, nor make up a good enough excuse as to where the drugs went. The siblings tried prolonging their (Aria’s) payment date and buying just a tad bit more time to get everything sorted out. Empty promises were spoken through disposable phones as Aria pledged the money will be ready soon.  

And as if they were suddenly blind and deaf to the fact of being in debt, the sisters decided to open a nightclub. Apparently, the earnings (they hoped would happen fast) would be used to pay back thousands of dollars they owed.

Unfortunately, being too hopeful was never a good thing. And that’s why you were there on the exact day of the grand opening.

“Well then, can I ask you to be my partner in crime, Miss?” Juyeon whispered, nudging your temple with his nose. Although in the mood to play with the other for a little while longer, you had to get to work first. Once again turning in his hold, you nodded and began bopping along to the new beat that vibrated off the walls. With foreheads pressed together, you tried ignoring Juyeon’ sharp gaze and focusing on discussing a plan of action.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

It was unusually easy to get inside of the security room, turn the cameras off and delete all footage of the current night. With a bit of secretive work, two assassins found a blueprint of the whole floor, familiarizing themselves with all important points of the nightclub – first and foremost the security room. Immediately, both got to work.

Thanks to your moderately revealing outfit and Oscar-worthy acting (no sarcasm intended), you worked as a distraction in the first part of the plan. Accidentally walking into a male bathroom, you managed to gain attention of drunk and drugged men. As expected, they followed out like hungry dogs.  

In the meantime, Juyeon slipped in and out of the bathroom through an open window. The drain pipes, weird infrastructure and façade of the whole building, allowed him to make his way around and towards the security room. The window was barely open, but with a bit of force, it was lifted up higher and Juyeon jumped in without much sound.  

With quick work of skilled fingers, the footage was deleted and all cameras were disabled for the night. Following the same path, the male left, making sure to lower the window into its previous position before returning to the bathroom. Luckily, your charm and flirty words worked well enough to keep other men outside the room until Juyeon came back.

He felt wronged seeing everyone looking you up and down as if you were some type of provocative art piece, hoping to get a feeling with their nasty fingers. Immediately, Juyeon approached the little group and wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder, leading you away. Sounds of disapproval were heard from the rest, but neither paid no mind, already focused on the next piece of the plan.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Keeping up the cover often required creative and interesting measures. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet never once have you made out with someone in public because of it.

At one point of the night, while progressing towards the next point, you’ve noticed a couple of guards paying a little bit more attention than usual. The amount of security surrounding one piece of the corridor was enough information to understand that the sisters (or at least one of them) were in one of those rooms. Trying to play drunk and drugged was so far the best shot at being left alone, but it seemingly didn’t work this time, as one bulky man walked towards you. The sound of his voice was almost silenced by the deafening music playing in the background.

“I’m sorry this is a-”  

Suddenly, Juyeon pushed you against a wall. Big hands cupped your face, holding it so delicately, carefully, as if you were a rose made out of glass. Yet, his lips moved against yours with a hungry and lustful feeling, only breaking apart to catch a breath before continuing where interrupted. One of his hands trailed lower, hitching one of your thighs over his hips, earning a rather surprised and breathless gasp in return. Unfortunately, the guard wasn’t willing to cooperate.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave this area” He yelled, voice unexpectedly high for a man his built. Juyeon chose to ignore the other, kisses now trailing underneath your jaw and over the tender skin of your neck, nipping but not strong enough to leave any marks.

Growing impatient and with an obvious pressure from his colleagues that bore holes into his back, the guard grabbed and  Juyeon’s bicep, effectively breaking the two apart. It took all of Juyeon’s mind strength not to turn around and break the man’s arm – that much was obvious from the sudden fire in his eyes.

“Leave” The bigger said, pointing back towards the direction you’ve came from. With glassy and hooded eyes, you watched the intimidating man, giving him a wide, forced smile. Pointing between the two guys, you started laughing, occasionally looking away and trying to suppress more giggles from spilling out. Juyeon caught onto the tactic and followed it, his shoulders rising and falling in a fast rhythm.

“I’m sorry~ we’ll goooo” Not wanting to create any unnecessary drama, you grasped Juyeon’s hand, leading the way while fake stumbling and force laughing the whole time. The male tried supporting you, and for a more authentic look, his own steps shortened and uneven.

“Drunk kids... I can’t bel..” Was all you’ve heard from the guard, before his voice blended in and disappeared in great noise that was an EDM beat.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Around one in the morning, when the night was reaching its peak, the two targets came out of their room. Despite other distractions, Juyeon and you spectated from a safe distance, dancing against each other for the nth time that night. As per usual, Yuri appeared high and out of her mind, while Aria dragged her towards a small terrace that overlooked the dance floor. There was a guard that followed behind.

“I guess it’s true that they’re giving a speech tonight... how eventful” With a sarcastic tone, Juyeon whispered in your ear. You looked up towards the terrace and hummed along to signal his words have been heard.

“There’s only one guard following, there must be more up there” He continued, head dipping low and lips caressing the exposed skin of your neck. Following the beat of the song, Juyeon moved one of his legs between yours, interested to see the reaction he’d get. His bold touches and moves intensified the unusual tension and sudden heat you already felt. The mission had to be done fast, since you weren’t sure how much more of this new, pleasurable torture you could take. Both were being pretty unprofessional, evidently forgetting about their main focus at times.This wasn’t at all like either of them.

“Taking them out up there is too risky anyway” You began, leaning your head back into the juncture of Juyeon’s shoulder, before speaking again, this time with a more teasing tone “Can’t guarantee that my idea is safe either, though. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Oh woah, don’t get too cocky on me now, baby” Blue replied, smirking when your head shot up to look him in the eyes. It faded fast, an eyebrow raising in a questionable manner, as if his words weren’t special and deserving of such a reaction. “Tell me. I get to hear the offer first before taking it, right?”

“You’re acting way too unprofessional. We’re here with a reason” You whined, suddenly wanting to distance away from the other, but a tight hold on your hips didn’t allow that.

“Me? Unprofessional? Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t the one grinding down on my thigh” Juyeon bit back with a generous amount of confidence, the one that people carried themselves with when they were aware of being right. The colorful lights hid the immediate flush that overtook your features. A quick look to the right proved the man that his words definitely had an effect.  

“So? Are you going to tell me or let a chance slip away?”

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Aria and Yuri laid dead inside a big closet, their necks snapped and heads hanging in an unnatural way. Juyeon and you once again happened to be the most compatible teammates, getting the job done and leaving the club before anyone suspected a thing.  

The time between leaving and present passed by in a blur and way too fast. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe it was just the power of Juyeon’s soft touches and hungry kisses that made you forget all about it.

Currently pressed against a cold brick wall a few streets away from the nightclub, you enjoyed the attention the man was offering. It all felt unusual and new, but not in a bad way. The wall temperature greatly contrasted the one of the body pressed against you, creating an unusual but pleasant combination. Juyeon’s lips rarely stayed on yours, often wandering down to your jaw and juncture of shoulder. This time though, he didn’t care about the marks, pink bruises now decorating the expanse of your neck. With hands in his dark blue strands, you pulled Juyeon closer, moving in just the right ways to allow more access to the soft and undamaged skin.

It wasn’t clear why both assassins gave in to the sudden want for each other. There were no evident emotions to back up their actions, just a strong need that had to be fulfilled with no one else but the other. Some could suppose it was the consequence of their blunt actions from before, while others may argue that it was something much more meaningful. A relatively new, exciting state of mind and experience that obviously didn’t have to happen, yet it did. A slipup so to say - or at least both hoped that it was.

“How can you be this hot after just murdering someone?” The man asked breathlessly, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips that formed a slight smile. His sharp eyes looked at yours with a new kind of emotion, something you weren’t able to pinpoint just yet. Juyeon’s deep but quick breaths matched yours, both trying to take in as much air as possible in a short period of time.

“What can I say, I’m a natural at keeping people around my finger” You raised a pinky up, playing along, voice low and seductive. Truly, there were missions that required acting flirty and playing dirty, therefore your charm has developed quite a lot. Still, what you tried implicating at was the situation from earlier that night, when all those men gathered around you. There was no reason to expect a reaction from the other. Juyeon’s expression quickly changed into something that resembled a frown, but it disappeared just as fast, not allowing any time to make any remarks about it.

Suddenly, the thigh that was once again positioned between your legs flexed, making you flinch and unwillingly whine. The man smirked, closing in the distance again, but not enough for yet another kiss.

“Should I be scared to become one of those people, then?” He whispered, irises playing between your eyes and lips that were just a breath away. The intimate proximity that went on for way too long happened to have a negative effect on you. Gradually, a pinch of doubt and hesitance began clouding your mind, scolding it for being too carefree next to the other. They reminded of just who the man was, and that the game currently played was a dangerous one. Without much thought, like a reflex, your hand moved quick, retrieving a pocket knife and pointing the tip at Juyeon’s barely covered stomach.

A gasp of sincere shock left the man’s lips, eyes opening wide, as he scanned your face. With an indifferent voice, but a slightly different mind, you spoke.

“I don’t know, should you?”

It was impressive to see how much effect people had on each other. Despite being busy with constant planning and thinking, there was always space in both heads to think about each other. Occasional pondering about his lips on hers, or her hands in his hair – all intensifying the anticipation for the next time.

Juyeon often found himself rushing missions because he knew the female wasn’t busy at the moment. Whenever passing by the familiar building and a certain room had even the slightest bit of light in it, the boy would invite himself over. It appeared that Juyeon risked much more than the other, and definitely much more than he should’ve.

Just out of pure skepticism that underlined every action, you never directly planned any of the meetings, rather letting the other barge in or set time and date. It was easy to catch onto his habits and when to expect a knock at your entrance door. For added security, weapons were kept in secretive places for quick use if the man ever decided to turn on you. And although fighting a never-ending battle inside of your mind, you grew to anticipate the hidden meetings. His kisses were spreading fire throughout your body, words messing with your mind and touches offering pure euphoria.

There were occasions when the two of you would meet at the rooftop, one always back from a mission while the other waited patiently. Sometimes, Juyeon’s hands still dripped fresh blood, the male not willing to waste any time on cleaning them before rushing towards you. It was a special feeling knowing that the fingers that used to do such horrifying things caressed your skin so delicately.

Slowly but surely, some type of understanding was established between the two. Then, the whole relationship wasn’t purely based on physical connection, and it meant much more than a way to satisfy hormonal human needs. Periodic talks about present worries and bothers, as well as thoughts on current events, allowed them to get to know each other better. Alas, the connection never reached its highest level, as numerous obstacles stopped them from reaching it – biggest being the female's constant hesitation.

Objectively speaking, Juyeon let himself open much more than the other did, always easy on bringing up topics to discuss about and contemplate on. He also shared much more information about himself, many of them being trivial and harmless things, but still something you stoically held back on. Of course, that didn’t mean you were silent during two-way conversations, just pickier about what you wanted to share.

Juyeon understood that, and he appreciated everything you’ve told him. That compassion was the foundation that will slowly build a more trusting and open relationship in the future. You valued his way of acting, enjoying harmless discussions and gradually getting used to having a companion who became a part of your almost daily life.

With a little bit of effort from both sides, everything was going to work, or at least you hoped. You encouraged every passing meeting, every second together, to hit the wall of reluctance with as much force as possible – still, unfortunately, it stood strong.

Blue and Red created purple during their nights together, merging with the beautiful melody of the storm that only grew bigger the closer it got.

Thanks to the impeccable weather, it was slightly challenging to get to the roof this time. However, with master level acting, fake politeness and a little bit of luck, you were able to avoid suspicion from the residents you passed by. Most definitely, and fortunately, not a single soul knew that there was a sniper rifle packed in a rather sizeable guitar bag you carried. Along with its components such as silencer, optical sight, bipod, additional ammunition...

Once on top of the building, you immediately unpacked the bag’s contents. First of was an expensive, albeit small door jammer that was installed straight away, effectively sealing the entrance you just walked through. Trying it a couple of times just to make sure, you deemed it impossible to open. Next was the sniper.

Having done such a thing countless times before, it didn’t take you long to properly set and load the weapon with a set of new bullets. The fresh smell of metal filled the small space around. Hiding behind a pile of rubbish, you set the bipod behind the cornice, muzzle and barrel pointing towards the road your target was supposed to appear on soon.  

Then, like a lightning, you immediately withdrew back, sniper pulled way behind and body pressing flush against the ground. There was a sudden feeling of being noticed and even watched, to which you were always quick to react. Keeping low for as long as time allowed, you dismounted the bipod as it only made advancing more difficult. Slowly but surely, you moved around, setting everything up on another corner with tall plants and flowers. The aim wasn’t as clear as before, but it wasn’t too big of a problem. Yet, despite the natural cover doing its job relatively well, the dangerous feeling was still present.

Taking a quick risk, you took off the current optical sight and mounted another, angled one, that allowed you to look around without being too exposed. Since you were on the 11th floor, on the tallest building in the area, there was no way someone could’ve noticed you from the roads down below. Glancing over them quickly just to make sure, the theory was deemed correct – no pedestrians had their heads raised up and looking in this exact direction.

Looking at the sky, you searched for drones or any other objects that could be supervising the area (as that unfortunately, did happen before and they had to be destroyed manually, via a gun). Thankfully, there were none, but instead of making you feel relieved, it only intensified the anxiety previously felt. Where was it coming from?

All you needed to get the desired answer, was an accidental glance over the roof of the building right across from yours. There, behind a pile of wooden planks, metal bars and all other unnecessary trash, you noticed a barely noticeable, but suspicious movement. Locking eyes on the exact spot and rolling the plastic on the sight, you zoomed in, getting a clearer image.  

Shockingly enough, there was a barrel peeking right between the two wooden planks, and it was pointed right at you.  

And then it quietly fired.

The bullet would’ve missed anyway, but thankfully, you moved down just in time, watching it penetrate the wall behind. Your heart leaped, pumping blood faster and kicking against your chest, almost as if it tried jumping out. Strange type of fear enveloped your body. It wasn’t fright for own life, rather unpleasant surprise that fueled thoughts of being outplayed. At this stage, you knew very little. Was it only one person? Were there more people? Were you cornered?

For whatever reason, the person on the other building continued firing, twice to be exact – yet both bullets hit the exact same spot as the first one. It didn’t make sense at all, but at least ir allowed keeping track of the opponent.

In a quick act, you moved, peeking just enough to expect to be fired at, but it never happened. Moving once again and receiving nothing in return, you positioned the sniper and looked through the sight for the nth time, trying to confirm if they were still on the same location. And that’s when you noticed.

A blue haired man peeking out, head cocked to the side, his sharp eyes and smirk offering a teasing, harmless expression.

Rage, disappointment and distrust overtook your body fast, blood boiling on a temperature higher than before. All emotions served as a strong reality check, a shot through the heart and mind, reminding of just who you were. They helped strengthen the invisible wall you were so desperately trying to weaken, ruining almost all of the progress made. Still, their consequences that will definitely leave a mark were your own fault and no one else’s.  

A drastic switch happened. While following Juyeon’s movements through the sight, you unconsciously aligned his head with the red dot in the middle. That person was suddenly someone who made you feel threatened, anxious, alarmed, and not the one who was supposed to help achieve change. You expected so much from him, yet all you currently felt was pure let down and anger. The inner battle was as hectic and loud as ever. A finger creeped up to the trigger, trembling as it came in contact with cold metal.  

Before the pull happened, your phone vibrated almost unnoticeably. It apparently did the right, desired trick, as it effectively broke the dangerous, fury-driven daze. With an audible sigh, you remembered who the actual target of the day was, aim moving downwards in a quick motion. Just as predicted and on time, a big black jeep turned the corner, driving into the street underneath you. Getting into a more comfortable position, you trailed the movement of the black vehicle.

First and only to come out of the car was the exact target. His appearance was immediately followed by two quick, (thanks to the silencers, somewhat) muffled gunshots, the bullets hitting just right. With two holes in his big shiny head, the man was sent falling down, momentarily holding onto the open door before faceplanting the cold concrete. Blood seeped out, painting the previously grey ground in a dark red, almost black color.

But the thing was, you only shot once.

Albeit caught off guard with the shocking realization, there was way too little time to get lost, every second more precious than the last one. Hurriedly, you deconstructed the sniper, pushing everything inside the guitar bag in a careless manner. When done, you moved towards the door and took the jammer off in record time before storing it inside the carriage as well.  

A quick glance was thrown in Juyeon’s direction, but unfortunately there was no sight of said man. For whatever reason, you were somewhat glad.

In a slow and relaxed manner, with calculated steps, you took the stairs again, making sure to appear just as natural and neutral as before. Thankfully, almost no one occupied the hallways. On the 5th floor, there were two elderly women happily boasting about their children, beside who you passed with a polite bow. You even smiled at them, but the expression was deemed unseen thanks to the black mask that covered your face.

Luckily, another semi-smooth mission was done with. You were out of the building and away from the scene in a couple of minutes, with no doubts about being seen or suspected. The only bothersome thing was the sudden change of feelings towards the blue haired man. A dangerous and slightly embarrassing switch could’ve had a very tragic outcome.

And of course, it wasn't worth missing out on the fact that for the first time, both had the same target.

You agreed on further meetings, although they were much different than those in the past. A drastic change in atmosphere was present from the first second, yet neither really wanted to comment on it. Despite being close physically, Juyeon didn’t feel warmth coming from you anymore, or at least not in the same amount as before. The male felt your body shiver under a cold gust of wind, but your skin didn’t feel any colder underneath his fingertips. When he tried offering you a jacket to cover up, you denied with a half-hearted smile.

It was unreasonably late, around three in the morning, which meant the city was at its calmest. There were less people on the streets than fingers on both hands and almost no apartments had their lights on. The moon was the most trustful source of light, its soft hues illuminating everything and making it more beautiful.

Nowadays, fewer words were exchanged as well. Silence was common, both bodies quietly cherishing what was left of a cracked relationship rather than trying to fix (or ruin?) it with meaningless talk. Leaned against the male’s shoulder, you tried forcefully letting go of tension to feel a piece of that carelessness that once existed between you. Truthfully, there was a willpower to continue fighting and experiencing the strange kind of joy, but there were so, so many obstacles. And most of them were created by you.

Neither had the explanation as to why this was still an ongoing thing, why neither gave up despite the little flame burning its last few seconds. No matter how long you searched for the answer, it just didn’t appear. A deep sigh resonated in a small bubble of space.

The biggest and constant bother was that invisible wall, still standing proud. Apparently, it grew taller and stronger every time you remembered the unfortunate event from two weeks ago. As time passed by, you became more skeptical, giving time and attention to thoughts you weren’t fond of. They whispered and laughed at a poor being for daring to experience something it wasn’t supposed to in the first place.

You didn’t even look Juyeon in the eyes anymore, always finding a nearby rock or wall crack a more attractive sight. Why? The fear of looking up and seeing no emotion in the man’s eyes was a fearful thought, mighty enough to forbid you from even trying. And why was it affecting you so much, why were you still holding onto it? You didn’t know.

Hell, your fucked-up mind was daring you to kill the man and he didn’t even know about it.

Juyeon, much like always, put more evident effort into the whole thing. It looked as if the male was aware of the trigger for this sudden stumble (not fall!), and was ready to give it his all to fix everything. Immense guilt was evident on his face, and if you looked up just once, you’d be able to read it off his beautiful features.

Despite your mental distancing and defiance, he never gave up transparently trying. You being there with him every night was all the hope Juyeon needed to continue. Even if you weren’t as willing to see him the next day, Juyeon would knock on your door. Even if you weren’t in the mood to talk, he’d ask a question about one of your favorite topics. The assassin wasn’t religious (and truthfully, how could he be?), but every night he’d pray for this tough period to end already. If for nothing else, then to have your eyes lock with his one last time.

Overall, these last few nights were a weird type of battlefield. Juyeon’s hand moved up to your shoulder, occasionally rubbing down your arm, hoping to feel just a bit of warmth there. You’d allow it, sighing and leaning into his hold, trying to, for the nth time, force a bit of feeling back.  

Either way, the two waited for a beautiful sunrise before disappearing in two different directions.

You should’ve believed the tension that thickened with each word the other said. You should���ve refused and backed out from this exact job when not even one person in the room appeared familiar. But it didn’t happen.

For the first time in an incredibly long time, the employers weren’t a part of a mafia or drug dealing gang. That much was disclosed, with a rude comment that it wasn’t your job to know anything more about them, anyway. It had your blood boiling and eyes squinting suspiciously, irises locking down every of the five men present.

Their detailing about the job that had to be done was just as, if not more, brief. Not believing that someone expected you to work properly with just three sentences of information, you asked a couple of times to have them repeated. Every time, the leader of the group sighed louder, eyes rolling back in an over-exaggerated manner, before turning around and giving a knowing look to the man beside. Were they joking around with you?

When asked about the basis behind this assassination, in hope of getting at least a little bit of early lead on who you’re dealing with, the man offered nothing useful in return. Instead of giving a proper reason, or at least putting effort into making a believable story up, he threw something senseless right at your face. Upon asking how you’re supposed to work without knowing how the target looks like, they replied with:

“They’ll be the only ones there, guaranteed. It's just a little game of hide and seek... with a twist. Isn’t that exciting?”

You were spared the detail that the target was just as (if not more,) experienced than you at these “murder plays”, and they demanded huge amounts of caution. Three main points were specified, the address, time and the fact that this was an extremely dangerous mission. The legitimacy of that information remained unknown, as they once again failed to give a coherent explanation. Despite the last point serving as a warning, you suddenly weren’t given a chance to back out.  

“Excuse me?” You said, disbelief all but dripping from those two simple words. “You’re sending me against another assassin, did I connect the dots correctly?”

“You’re a smart one”

“I don’t want to work on this case” You denied, getting ready to leave, when the other cleared his throat.

“We want this person taken out at any cost, and we particularly chose you for it. In the end, we did hear quite a lot of positive reviews... therefore you seem to be the right person, no?” The man tried flattering you, but his voice was laced with venom, lips moving slowly to form an unnatural, wicked grin. He wasn’t looking at you with fake friendliness anymore, rather an emotion that could soon turn dangerous.

“That doesn’t matter to me, I have the right to not accept the job. My signature is not yet written on the papers” A small pile of documents resting on the table was pointed at, endless rows of black text only missing a simple name written in ballpoint pen. The other chuckled lightly, gaze turning threatening in a blink time as he lifted a blue pen and spun it around his thick fingers.

“That’s easily dealt with” The weight of his words hit immediately, a shocking situation that you’re dealing with for the first time. There was no training for this and lack of experience was making you a nervous mess.  

Shuffling body mass from one leg to the other, your eyes remained on the ground, hands anxiously intertwining. There was nothing that came to mind that would help the current position, and you wondered what all of this was about. No one has ever forced you into working for them, much less threatened to sign the contract in your name.

The man chuckled once again, saying nothing but thinking a lot. This was it, they had you.

“Don’t you want this?” Another male spoke, his frame moving from the doorway and opening a black suitcase on the table. The carriage itself probably cost a fortune, as it was made of expensive leather, and the mouth-watering amount of money inside was as alluring as ever. It would probably be the best paid work ever. Still, you managed to look up from the bills and into the leader’s eyes with strong confidence.

“Does it even matter? You’re forcing me to do it anyway” The words barely made it past your tongue, their weight way too heavy. The freedom you had while working was something greatly cherished (for a lack of better words), and it was suddenly taken away. It almost felt as if nothing was in your power anymore. Fearful shivers ran down your spine.

“Well then, glad we got that behind ourselves. Sign here”

The whole process of sealing the deal was done in a matter of seconds. Your signature was scribbled in the ugliest way possible, and the pen was thrown to the other side of the room as a form of protest. The weak plastic broke due to the force of impact, the ink painting a patch of white wall blue. Turning around to leave, you stomped with heavy steps, glaring at each and every male in the room for the last time. Then, one step away from the doorway, you heard it.

Your name. Your real name.

The one no one ever used.

“Good luck, you’ll need it”

The door closed behind in a loud thud, not allowing you enough time to properly react. Just once your face hit the fresh air, did the heaviness of the decision fall upon your body. What have you done? Who were those people and why did they refuse to introduce themselves?  

Doubts filled your head – were your employers suddenly against you? Were they suddenly hyperaware of your knowledge, or scared that you’ll turn to the other side, become their enemy? Was this actually a ploy made to get you out of the game? The thought made you gulp audibly; wondering if but knowing that it was too late to turn around and tear the contract paper into thousands of pieces.

There’s also no way ditching the mission came into discussion. With the way they acted, god only knew if each and every step of yours was watched on. Holy shit.

The walk home was a long one, not particularly because time passed by slow, but because you purposely chose the longer path. Eyes filling with tears, your reaction was one of pity. Reaching up to brush the watery substance away from the corner of your eyes, you looked at the shiny finger. This was the first time in a long while that something managed to bribe out the emotion of grief. And for the first time ever, it was for no one else but yourself.

Tiny rocks sounded under your shoes just quietly enough to not ruin the perfect sneak up. The sky was grey, thin but overlapping clouds blocking sun from coming your way. Luckily, it meant you could move with more freedom, not having to worry about unnecessary shadows and their power to ruin cover.

The first abandoned building you were heading towards was huge, with main walls almost completely ruined. Chunks of concrete, bricks and other unnecessary trash created stable cover that you’d usually be thankful for, yet now dreaded.  

This was the exact address you were given, but the trick was that it happened to be a whole wide field with two abandoned buildings. On top of that, the opponent’s identity was still unknown, therefore you had no knowledge of who to look for and where. For all you knew, they could already be in position and aiming right at your head. “It’s just a little game of hide and seek, with a twist”. Instinctively, you ducked behind the nearest tree, feeling the heart strengthen its beats. Carefully and in calculated pace, the advance towards the entrance was continued.

There was a huge hole in the ceiling of every floor. It reached all the way up to the destroyed rooftop, almost as if something heavy fell from above and demolished the concrete surface. With back pressed flush against a piece of wall that still stood strong, you took a deep breath and reached down for a favorite of weapons, your trusted knife.

Suddenly, there was a strange type of noise coming from an unknown direction, resonating throughout the whole building. In the midst of a less careful and more panicked moment, while trying to retrieve the blade, it sliced through the delicate flesh of your calf. A quietly yelp of pain escaped your lips, hand immediately stretching to press on the wound. The feeling of blood running down your leg was accompanied by burning pain, and you tried ignoring it while climbing up the stairs.

Thanks to the special soft soles of the boots, your steps weren’t heard over the hard ground. They also didn’t put much force on your calf, therefore the advance to the 1st and 2nd floor went by almost without a problem. Occasionally, due to a bad step, the wound would reopen, another flow of blood quick to rush out along with a thousand silent curses.

The doorways on both floors were as demolished as the rest of the building, preventing anyone from walking through and forcing you to move up to the 3rd. Dodging and crouching down at places where you’d be exposed to the outside, you all but crawled up.

The third floor seemed different; way less disintegrated than the rest. Once there, you looked around and through the now available doorway. The corridor was very long, filled with wooden planks that once resembled doors leading to empty rooms. On the other side, about fifty meters away, there was another stairway, much like the one you took just now.

Alas, despite the burn in your calf, there was suddenly that alarming feeling of being watched.

Immediately ducking behind cover, you gripped the knife tight and took a few deep but quick breaths, planning the next move. Someone was definitely in there, and the rapid heartbeat was making sure you were constantly aware of it.

The feeling gradually subdued the more time passed by. You looked around attentively, once again taking notice of the still gaping hole on the ceiling. There was no one watching you through it though, so the trigger must’ve been from either outside or down the hallway. Remembering the noise from earlier, you completely crossed out the possibility of them being outside.

Which of course, wasn’t in your favor at all.

Peeking out just so the top of the head showed, you tried bribing out shots or any kind of attack from the other – something that would indicate where they were located. Receiving nothing in return was slightly confusing, but it also offered a pinch of hope. Maybe they moved, which meant you had a chance to sneak up behind them, or maybe they’re just hiding, which meant it could all go down very fast.

With a hurt leg that was slowly growing numb, there wasn’t a lot of time you had left before retreat was necessary. And never once did that happen. Therefore, trying to protect pride and get this done just to never see those nasty men again, you tried winging it. Pressing the wound one last time, you whispered a prayer before taking off through the open doorway.

There was just enough cover to move around in semi-safety, back turned towards one of the walls. Your eyes perceptively scanned every corner, every pile of rocks which could offer any type of protection. Occasionally, ignoring the pain, you’d jump inside one of the rooms to your right, hoping to catch the other off guard. The knife in your hands was gripped tight, leather handle shining slightly due to a thin layer of sweat coating it.

Tension was as high as ever, air becoming thick to an almost suffocating degree. For the first time, you felt undoubtedly scared. Your mind was clouded with a thousand racing thoughts, all of which only intensified the sensation of panic. The more time passed, the more your eyes aimlessly wandered around empty spaces, growing more tired and unable to notice possibly important details.

The amount of blood you lost was probably in the red zone, moving around becoming more challenging with every step. Still, doing the best possible job was always a requirement, therefore you used last spurts of strength to enter the 2nd to last room in the long hallway.

Once again met with a different terrain, you immediately noticed a demolished doorway, connecting the room to the one right beside. Upon quickly deeming the current room safe, you crouched down, sneaking towards the linking point. As if sensing danger, you patiently waited a couple of moments, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. If not for the protective leather handle, the blade would’ve sliced through your hand due to the impossibly strong grip.

Someone on the other side coughed. A curse followed right after.  

Both moved rapidly, reaching out for the other through the doorway.

You were held at gunpoint, jaw feeling the pressure of a cold muzzle on it, while a strong hand grabbed your hair, pulling it back. Your own hands grabbed the other’s collar, tugging down while holding the thin, sharp blade against their most sensitive point, Adam’s apple.

Neither moved.

Blue watched Red with surprised eyes, irises playing inside the broad space of dark brown. Your gaze tried locking the man down, scanning those beautiful features while still avoiding his sharp eyes. Unexpectedly, a weak wave of emotion hit, bringing back a piece of what you wanted for a very long time. There was a slight urge to reach out and caringly caress his sharp cheeks, cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

But there was a gun pressed against your skin, and a knife against his.

And neither moved.

The war started. Horrid battles began and ripped your heart piece by piece. Everything was on the line and an indecisive mind was as dangerous as ever. The realization that this man, despite everything that happened, was the last person you wanted to harm, hurt the most. It was the quick moment of reminisce about the old times, when everything was just starting. He was the only one who gauged new, thrilling, pleasant emotions and made them feel like they’re exactly what you needed. And it was the truth.

But the weight of the weapon on your jaw reminded of the not-so-bright moments as well. A flashback of the day you were teasingly shot at sent shivers down your spine, feelings of pure anxiety and fear coming back in an instant. Rightfully so, they were strong and rivaled the positive ones, trying to outweigh them and take control over your next actions. The man was still someone who dared pull the trigger on you, dared taking that type of unpredictable risk.  

If he dared pull it again, you dared slit his flawless, soft skin. But embarrassingly enough, you’d never have enough strength to be the first one, no matter how impulse-driven. Harming him definitely was your last wish. The thought of it even being a possibility made your eyes water, tears welling up and falling like never before, straining your soft cheeks.

Juyeon’s heart ached as well. Sadly, it opposed two separate and strong thunders. The first one hit hard, touching the intimate topic of his feelings towards you. It wasn’t a secret that you’ve changed him as well. In a word of gloom, blood and violence, you made everything disappear and instead of war, brought peace to his mind. Most of the time, it was enough for Juyeon to know that you were there, and every worry would fade away. The mutual understanding was then something he grew accustomed to and happy for. The male didn’t feel like he didn’t deserve attention anymore.

But what hit even harder was the fact that Juyeon was aware of your current thought process, and the guilt once again ate him away, bite by bite.

Carefully, the grip on your hair was released, gloved hand reaching up, thumb wiping a falling tear. Rough material nearly scraped your skin, a frown appearing on the other’s face almost immediately. Juyeon bit down on the glove, taking it off before placing his hand back on your warm cheek. The act made your eyes water even more, lips trembling and throat constricting to stop loud whimpers from escaping.

Still, the weapons didn’t move.

“Juyeon” You suddenly whined, finally finding strength to say his name. Lightheadedness was slowly overtaking your whole body, vision blurring fast. The pain in your leg although still present was long forgotten. Every letter carried huge weight, every taken breath felt like the last and you wondered if taking that bullet hurt any less. Unconsciously, your hand began shaking, resulting in the thin blade moving against the man’s delicate skin. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but Juyeon visibly and audibly gulped under the metal.

“They... they set us up to kill each other, Juyeon” The realization hurt like a sudden kick to the gut. It was supposed to happen sooner or later. All suspicions you weren’t willing to think about came out to be true and the terror spread through your body in a strong wave. Everything made sense – why those men weren’t willing to introduce themselves, why refusal wasn't an option and why no proper explanation was given to you. They were aware that if you knew even one of those things, you wouldn’t have dared to show up in the first place.

Or would you? Would they be able to push just the right buttons and play with your mind as they were right now?

You were set to break apart.

Do it. Don’t do it. Do. Don’t. Past and present were clashing together, habits and new found emotions. For the first time in a while, you felt somewhat disgusted with your job. Yet, the wheels were turning, reminding that you’ve been doing this for years and now was no time to give up under the pressure. It was so, so easy to end this all, much like hundred times before. Swallow down the hard feeling and contractions of your heart, cut through like you’re used to. Emotions were just an accident, an error in the system of a machine.

All this time though, Juyeon’s hand remained on your cheek, and only now was it only noticeable that he wasn’t holding you in place. The muzzle of the gun wasn’t as strong on your jaw as it was before. Juyeon wasn’t going to actively fight or harm you either, that much was clear. This had to end somehow, and the male was about to use his last possible chance.

“Look at me” The voice he said it with was soft, but underlined with a certain type of authority. For whatever reason, as if under a spell, your eyelids opened, irises immediately locking on his.

And then it all crashed down.

All the doubts and hesitation were immediately gone. Your hand moved, putting pressure on the weapon for just a quick moment before letting go completely. Heavy blade fell onto the ground with a loud and high-pitched noise, one that echoed throughout the whole building. The invisible wall was no more.

At the same time, Juyeon released the gun, hefty metal hitting concrete with just as loud of a thud. When the pressure disappeared and the current situation processed properly, your body went numb. Legs giving out, you almost collapsed on the ground. Luckily, Juyeon managed to catch you just in time. The male lowered the smaller body onto the ground, holding it carefully.

Your head hung low; eyes wandering all around the room, but not focusing on one spot. This was the first mission you’ve ever failed and the fear of possible consequences was scary.

Juyeon’s hands enveloped your face, just holding it firmly. Neither had an obvious cheerful expression, but there was a lack of certain something that made both seem more at ease. He caressed the soft skin, examining your face that was blank of any emotion. It was the moment of complete calm.

Upon focusing on the man, you noticed a clear red line just underneath his Adam’s apple. Instinctively, you reached out, running a smooth finger over it and listening to Juyeon’s strained hiss. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes, yet the other was quick to wipe it away.

“Can you listen to me?” He questioned, with a gaze that suddenly turned more serious, albeit none the less caring. The breathing rhythm was slow and deep, almost as if he was trying to calm down in the fastest way possible. With a slight nod, you replied, hoping to keep enough consciousness to listen until the end.

“Let’s escape this hell” You would’ve definitely reacted greatly to the proposition, if it weren’t for the lack of energy in your body. Instead, the reply was a simple, perplexed look, a result of not quite processing what was talked about.

“Escape, disappear, perish, they’ll never know. They’ll never find us because... because they’ll think we’re dead. Isn’t that what they wanted? To wipe us off the list?” The tone Juyeon used was a hopeful one, as if the man already had everything planned and was ready to go right this second. And maybe, just maybe, that was the case.

“We’ll move countries and get new identities – I have a couple of friends that could and will help us with that. We’ll start a new life away from... away from all of this, because we can’t stay” Gradually, his words became more rushed, too many thoughts and too little time to wrap them up. “We can’t go back. They’ll kill us themselves, you know that, right?”

Juyeon was right. In the planned scenario, one of you was supposed to die today, while the other would’ve been finished off upon reporting the case. You’ve thought about it many times, making up scenarios and trying to find a way to get out of them. No one has ever trained you in that field or shown any ways of dealing with it, and there was an exact, fucked-up reason for it.

“Or we could just...” His eyes wandered off to the two weapons lying on the ground, tears welling up fast. There’s no way that was the only other option, yet...

For a moment, you glanced at the objects as well, not out of interest, but pure disgust. Just a mere thought of what could happen made your stomach twirl and heart hurt. Turning around to look at the other, you noticed a teardrop that made it down his jaw. Wiping it off gently, you smiled, speaking in a low and calm whisper.

“No... no. Let’s... let’s go. Let’s disappear together, wherever that takes us, Juyeon” The mind finally accepted the sudden feelings that were no longer confined and hidden. The imaginary, but nonetheless strong, cage and restrictions were no more. You finally felt proper euphoria of freedom.

Speechless, but immensely happy, that’s what Juyeon was in that exact moment. His chest abruptly wasn’t enough space for the organ that beat at an incredible pace, with new-found strength. Tightening his hold, the male pulled you towards his chest, into a first, proper hug. Your hands sneaked around his body, trying to squeeze as hard as possible and relish the beautiful moment. In such an intimate position, it was possible to feel that exact excited heartbeat of the male.

After a long period of comfortable silence, you quietly spoke into his chest, “Please piggyback me... wherever... I don’t think I can walk”  

“Oh my god, you’re hurt?!” Juyeon noted in an alarming tone, eyes immediately scanning your body and finally noticing a streak of red liquid on the concrete underneath your leg. He loudly cursed at himself for not seeing it earlier, hand reaching down to press on the wound. Although not fresh, it still gushed out more blood, earning another hiss from you.

“Yeah, no shit mister... fuck be careful! I wouldn’t go all baby... and soft on you if I... I didn’t feel like fainting. You were lucky today” You bit back jokingly, trying to keep the light atmosphere that was slowly coming down its high. Juyeon’s head shook at that, a quiet ‘you’re not in position to speak like that’ passing through his barely parted lips. A pair of hands worked fast on tying a thin jacket around your calf to stop further bleeding.  

“How?” He asked, confused but curious at the same time.

“I’d rather not talk about it” Your head turned away from the other, irises locking onto one of many holes on the wall. The male chuckled at that, checking the knot before standing up with knees half bent. He helped you stand up and climb up on his back, strong arms instantly gripping the back of your thighs.

“Bet you hurt yourself, clumsy”

“Yeah, bet”  

With a loud, content sigh, your head lowered onto Juyeon’s back, eyes closing as you finally drifted off to sleep. There, on the closed, but broad battlefield, the two warriors accepted their faith. They made up their minds for a different future, something neither were sure how to approach, but were more than ready to experience together. A future that didn’t revolve around blood, murder and secrecy, one that would allow both to heal and live their lives breathing properly.

Quatervois, a heavy change no one expected. A decision made fast, but a result of long, aimless thought and experience. And some may say this was deemed to happen sooner or later, but was it? If things were just slightly different...  

Guess we would never know.

AN: well... here it is? truthfully speaking, i’m very satisfied with this work, and i love every piece of it, but it has been giving me so much stress oh my god... writing has taken me so much time because i tried so hard to make it perfect and i really hope reading almost 22k of this was worth it, and that you’ve enjoyed it. at some parts, i’ve maybe focused on the main female character too much, but i think that to understand her character, it’s important to have an in-depth point of view. i’d really appreciate it (to the moon and back) if you guys could leave feedback for this one. thank you so so so much for reading, have a good day <3

[kisekinodrabbles]

helloo! i'd like to request something for the prompt game please :D kasamatsu + band!au + strangers to lovers + dialogue number 14 if that's okay? thanks, sam! and welcome back~

ofc!!! i tried to keep it shorter but im a bit rusty w my kasamatsu hehe hope u enjoy! wc: 2.3k

Kasamatsu admits that balancing his band and college work isn’t exactly an easy task. Between late evenings spent at gigs and all nights at the library, he is on the brink of his sanity, standing right at the tipping point. He yawns as he enters his nine am mandatory calculus class, another mistake made in his overconfidence that he would somehow be able to get his shit together.

You, on the other hand, are a closeted fan of his band, sitting three rows behind him in class. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you watch him drag his feet in and his hand lifting to his mouth in a yawn. Quickly, you duck behind your book as if Kasamatsu would ever give you the time of day. The brunette is well-known on campus with his successful group and good looks, not to mention he also dabbles a little in basketball while also maintaining a decent grade point average across all his classes. Triple threat, they call him.

When you first came into class and saw him there, shocked is an understatement. You’ve been following his band his high school from across the country. To see him in the flesh, so real and so human with his tired eyes, it almost feels like a dream. One you hope nobody would ever pinch you awake from. Thus, you made it your goal to be there before him every morning, which is a feat in itself. Kasamatsu may be grinding through the night and falling asleep in lectures, but he’ll be damned if he shows up late to class.

Throughout several weeks, you’ve seen girls come up to him left and right, shot down almost immediately by his intention to focus on the professor’s words. He lets them down easy and makes it clear that he pays thousands of dollars to study, not play IRL Tinder. This man gets sexier everyday.

You take your time packing your things when class is over, mainly because you’re too distracted watching Kasamatsu do the same. He is blind, or chooses to ignore, the whispers and shy glances thrown his way. Perhaps this is why you haven’t approached him yourself. You’re just one of his many admirers, a stroke in the massive painting of his life. Sighing, you pick up your pitiful self and make your way to the dining hall where you’re supposed to meet your friend for breakfast.

When the two of you settle on a table, you begin your weekly rambling about how beautiful Kasamatsu looks in the morning. Moriyama, being the good friend that he is, nods and listens intently.

Moriyama is an intriguing character. The two of you met because he had tried a line on you. In your perpetual state of flustered embarrassment, you had stupidly confessed to him: “Sorry, my heart belongs to Kasamatsu Yukio.”

In another twist of fate, he revealed that he had actually gone to high school with the guy and knew him pretty well.

“You know I can introduce you to him, right? No need for all this pining and drooling from three feet away.”

“It’s not the same,” you argue, “he’s practically a living legend on campus. I’m too intimidated to even breathe in the same air as him.” Your obsession has perhaps taken you too far, but if you expect to continue being his fan, the last thing you want is to scare him away.

“You’re so overdramatic,” Moriyama rolls his eyes. Coming from him, this sentence means a lot.

“What? It’s not my fault Kasamatsu’s so hot. He could bang me so hard backstage then pretend I don’t exist and I would still pay to watch his next show,” you groan, spooning yogurt into your mouth.

In that moment, several things happen. Moriyama’s eyes widen and fly behind you. Footsteps sounding at that same spot suddenly cease completely. You, realizing what possibly just happened, feel the heat flare up your cheeks.

Kasamatsu, in his sleep deprived state and probably completely delirious, had stopped in his tracks. His head whipped around to the source of the comment, finding Moriyama sitting with someone who looks distinctly familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Kasamatsu—”

Before Moriyama can even finish his sentence, Kasamatsu is already blurting out. “Okay, maybe I’m crazy but did I just hear you say that out loud?”

You want to crawl into your hole six feet underground and never see the light of day again. Ducking your head, you don’t even want to chance a glance up. The utter mortification is chewing away at your bones and you wish you could just evaporate into thin air.

Moriyama quickly interjects with a quick laugh, “Hear what? Also how have you been, man? I haven’t seen you in forever. Come join us for breakfast.”

Kasamatsu’s brows pucker. Maybe he really is going insane. And horny. Which is a very bad combination. Nevertheless, he slides into the empty seat next to Moriyama. He stares at you for a few seconds, squinting, before snapping his fingers. “Oh, I remember now. You’re in my calculus class.”

He knows you? “How do you know me?” you squeak, cursing your fangirl self for losing your voice. You never speak up in class, always choosing to come up to your professor for questions at the end of lecture. You’re quiet and tucked away behind him, so you never expected him to recognize you.

The smile he sends you is blinding. Even with shadows under his eyes, he still looks gorgeous. “You’re always first to arrive and last to leave. Figured you’re a hard worker in class and probably acing it.”

Your mouth dries. Kasamatsu noticed you. He actually noticed you. “Oh, um, I’m okay. I’m okay in class, I mean.”

“The question you should be asking is her name, Kasamatsu,” Moriyama scolds, smacking his back.

Kasamatsu pinks sheepishly. “Sorry, yeah. I’m Kasamatsu Yukio, by the way.”

Idiotically, you blurt out “I know” before your name. When you finally introduce yourself, you also clarify, “I’m a huge fan of Blue Devils. I mean, I’ve been following you guys since like high school. Absolutely love your music.”

The man actually reddens even further, but still he beams proudly. “Thank you! That’s crazy. Have you been to our shows?”

Almost all of them. “A couple, yeah.”

“We have one tonight in an actual venue. Are you coming?”

“Ah, it was sold out before I could get a ticket, actually.”

Kasamatsu blinks, “Oh, you’re more than welcome to come. I can get you a pass. Both of you—if Moriyama’s interested.”

“That would be amazing!” You grin, “Is there anything I can get you in return? I don’t want to just accept a gift from you for free.”

“Well, if you are good at calc, I wouldn’t mind some extra tutoring,” he suggests with a teasing grin.

Moriyama rolls his eyes, “Just ask her out instead of using tutoring as an excuse.” The two of you sputter, face colored a dark shade of red. You’ll kick his ass when you get the chance.

—

That one mistake turned out to be the greatest opportunity of your life. In addition to attending his show that night and meeting all of his bandmates, each one more good looking up close than then other, you manage to have weekly study sessions (you’re holding off on calling it dates) with Kasamatsu. The two of you take turns booking rooms at the library to cram, which mainly consists of you reexplaining concepts to the man. Although he isn’t a bad student, he’s also still struggling a bit to keep up.

“Hey” is what you hear before you feel a warm surface press against your cheek. You look up to find Kasamatsu with a steaming cup in hand. Gratefully accepting it, you catch a whiff of freshly brewed tea. You take a sip and smile. Black tea, no sugar. “Just the way I like it.”

“Noticed you never add anything to your tea,” Kasamatsu says almost proudly.

You raise the cup to him in thanks. Both of you go through your usual routine—you focusing on reviewing material for next week while Kasamatsu pores over his notes from this week, occasionally poking you to ask questions.

Honestly, a big part of you still wonders if this is all a dream. This guy you’ve been crushing on for years is sitting in the flesh right across from you. You peek at him from time to time, watching the way he frowns at his book. His blue, almost grey, eyes shine underneath the flickering lights. Even the way his lips curl unhappily is cute.

When he catches you staring, you quickly drop your gaze back to your laptop, missing the way he smiles quietly.

“Will you come to our show this weekend?” He asks as the two of you pack up.

“Ah, I have a shift at my part-time job.”

He looks surprised, “That late?”

You shrug, “Food never sleeps, I guess. It’s at the burger diner by campus.”

“Oh, are you guys open late?”

“Close at one.”

He nods, “Maybe I’ll see you there after then. The guys usually get really hungry after a gig so we can drive some business your way. I’ll make sure they tip well too.”

Your heart warms at the thought. It’s a thoughtful gesture but you’re even more thrilled at the prospect of seeing him. “Sounds good.”

True to his word, Kasamatsu brings the guys to your workplace at midnight after their show ended. They order quite a spread, practically everything on the menu. Kasamatsu goes as far as to help you carry orders to their table. You shoot him an appreciative smile.

Over the time your friendship has bloomed, Kasamatsu has been nothing but a gentleman. He walks you home to your dorm if you’re studying late into the night. He meets you in class with a muffin or a cookie from his early Starbucks runs. Surprisingly, he begins placing himself next to you each session. “This is better anyway,” he mutters. “Two birds, one stone.”

His vague words had you tilting your head in question.

“I don’t have random people coming up to me to sit with me and, well, I get to enjoy your company.” It’s a nice thought—him enjoying your company, that is. He had blushed a little when he realized what you said, but chose to direct his attention to the slides pulled up before him, missing the way you hide your smile behind your sleeve.

Now, you hear the rowdy boys chattering on as they devour their meal as if it’s their last. They speak through mouthfuls of burgers and fries, but you find the sight endearing, mainly because you’ve never seen Kasamatsu so relaxed. It’s quite refreshing really. Your attention is piqued when you hear one of them ask: “So doing it tonight huh?”

Kasamatsu retorts with a “shut the fuck up” and flings a fry his way. The way the other guy wiggles his brows suggestively has you freezing. What if he was meeting up with someone tonight? What if he was going to do the deed?

Somewhere in the distance, you hear the faint cracking of your heart. Of course, Kasamatsu is popular. It’s no surprise he’s got his nights covered as well. You sigh dejectedly, feeling the hope inside you crumble into dust. The rest of your shift goes by rather uneventfully, but you try to avoid going to their table too much, lest you hear more details about Kasamatsu’s planned tryst. The man himself steals glances your way, wondering if you’ll be checking on them anytime soon.

“Your check,” you smile as you set the bill on the table, “I got the owner to give you a discount since you guys ordered a good amount.”

All of their eyes seem to sparkle as they thank you in unison, their synchrony almost puzzling. As you move to pick up the bill and change, Kasamatsu catches your hand before you move away. “What time does your shift end?”

“Half an hour. Why?”

The other guys are already packing up their things and giving you little waves as they exit the restaurant, leaving the two of you alone. “I’ll walk you home, it’s late,” he murmurs, fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

“Oh, you don’t have to! I usually take the bus back anyway so it’s no big deal.” You want to confirm whether he had plans that night anyway. You’d hate to be in the way of that.

He shakes his head, “I insist. Also, um, are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Catching up on studying most likely.”

“Oh,” he pauses, “if you have time tomorrow night, do you want to catch a movie with me? Maybe dinner after?”

You blink at him in surprise. Now that you’re looking at him properly, you notice that his cheeks are several shades darker than the red neon glow of the diner sign. He’s shifting on his feet and his other hand finds purchase on the strap of his bag, fidgeting with the material. “Um, like a date?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters slightly, his throat moving as he swallows. “Sorry, I probably should’ve made that clear,” he coughs, “b-but if you don’t want it to be the we can also go as friends.” Perhaps you’ve tortured the boy long enough but you can’t help but relish in his awkward chuckle as his hand lifts to rub the back of his neck nervously.

Biting back a huge grin, you nod. “It’s a date.”

Kasamatsu’s eyes light up and a pleased grin spread across his face. “It’s a date.”

The hollering outside the building has the two of you whipping to face the window where his bandmates have their faces pressed up against the surface, laughing and smiling to congratulate and embarrass their friend. Kasamatsu flushes, “I’ll see you later to pick you up.”

You nod but he’s already out the door, leaping to kick his friends away. “You stupid idiots!”

Laughing, you watch as the group makes kissy faces at Kasamatsu all the while the man fruitlessly attempts to shut them up. He really is cute.

[dessarious]

The Angel of Death Pt10

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3   Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

Marinette had been staking out the warehouse for going on six hours when an old man seemingly dressed like a turtle showed up. She could feel the magic coming off him and knew he was the one the Kwami wanted her to meet. She already felt that this was a mistake. The man was brash and foolish to just walk into a meeting with an unknown entity without even bothering with a cursory sweep of the area. Marinette had no time and no use for fools.

“It is not polite to hide and stare at people, especially without introducing yourself.” He was staring directly at the place where she’d hidden the Miraculous while she was at his back. The man not only relied on magic, he assumed anyone else would if they had the chance. An easy mark if she were so inclined. The fact that this man was the caretaker of a power that could completely remake or even destroy the world was frightening if she was being honest.

“Politeness is overrated and I don’t see what introducing myself would accomplish.” The man spun around at her voice but she was already moving to a different location so he wouldn’t be able to pin her down. She watched as he squinted into the shadows where he heard her voice. The man really was hopeless.

“A name can tell you a lot about a person.” Marinette didn’t even try to stop the derisive snort that left her.

“At most a name tells you what someone’s parents hoped they’d be, though it’s more likely that they simply thought it sounded good with their last name. It says nothing about who or what a person is independent of that.” She moved again but not nearly as far as before. She watched him for any sign that he was tracking her movements but didn’t find any. Either the man was still alive by pure chance or he was very good at pretending to be oblivious. The first was a strong possibility if he relied on tiny gods to protect him but she knew better than to underestimate a potential threat.

“A valid point, but that still doesn’t tell me what I should call you.” She debated what to tell him. The Kwami seemed to think they could help each other but she knew better than most that having people close to you was nothing more than a weakness to be exploited. Not to mention the fact that if the League was hunting her or even just happened to stumble upon her while she was with him the Miraculous would be in danger as well. Better that he know exactly what he’s dealing with and leave.

“I’ve been called many things in my life. I’m currently referred to most often as The Angel of Death.” That got his attention. She watched as he stiffened and suddenly was surrounded by a magic shield. She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “If I wanted you dead you would be already. If you’ve heard of me you know I don’t kill indiscriminately and I highly doubt you’ve done anything that would land you on my hit list anyway.” She watched the man frown in thought.

“You were hired to kill Hawkmoth.” It was a statement and she didn’t bother to confirm it. “You let yourself get Akumatized to find him didn’t you?”

“I did.” She simply waited while he mulled over that information. Tikki hadn’t been very forthcoming about their conversation, she had a feeling it was more to do with not being able to than being unwilling, so she wasn’t certain what the man actually knew. She was interested to see what conclusions he would come up with. She shook her head when he dropped his shield before answering. The man was far too easy a target.

“It was a foolish thing to do. You’re lucky he didn’t see what your intentions were.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it. The man was incompetent and far too focused on his own desires to find information in a trained mind. He didn’t even notice I was still in control of myself let alone what I was planning to do.” That seemed to surprise him and it made her think he didn’t know as much about the Miraculous as he should, let alone other forms of magic.

“You remember everything that happened while you were Akumatized?” He sounded skeptical and worried. She didn’t answer right away. The Kwami had the same reaction when she told them, even Nooroo. The question was whether she wanted him to know what she was capable of so he didn’t come after her himself.

“Yes, I was in control of myself the entire time. Hawkmoth didn’t force me to do anything and I doubt he could have if he tried.” If she’d learned anything through their connection it was that Gabriel didn’t have the empathy to truly use the connections Nooroo formed for him. He forced his will on others and that only worked until he possessed someone with a stronger will than his.

“Why did you ask for this meeting?” He sounded wary but Marinette paused in confusion. What exactly had Tikki said to him?

“I didn’t. Tikki said they thought we could help each other and convinced me to meet with you. To be honest I don’t see what you could possibly teach me that will improve my skills and my being near you is likely to put you in danger. The Kwami seem set on remaining with me and given your apparent lack of strategy and overall skill I can understand why.” She expected him to be insulted but he just looked mildly annoyed. She moved behind him once again knowing she’d have to prove her point.

“The Miraculous are not going to be entrusted to someone like you. Either return them or face the consequences.” She couldn’t help the eye roll as she scanned him for the Miraculous he was wearing. It had to be the bracelet, nothing else was out of place. She attacked swiftly, stepping out of the shadows behind him and grabbing the bracelet. She tore it off in one smooth motion and was now face to face with an old man, amazingly even shorter than herself. She watched his face change from anger to panic to confusion as he finally took in who, or rather what, he was looking at.

“You’re just a child.”

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Ko-Fi

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[baldrambo]

On Jim Hopper....

After reading a myriad of analyses and meta on Hopper’s character in S3 on Tumblr/Reddit/Twitter/everywhere, I've come to realize that my understanding of his character and his arc is very different than most interpretations I've seen.  And it frustrates me because i think ultimately, the criticism of him is unfairly harsh and misses the point of his arc.

I will make a few bold assertions (bold=likely unpopular) and address them under the cut because the more I’ve thought about this the longer it got and I want to appropriately address each point.

Assertion 1: S1 Hopper is NOT the Hopper we want, in fact, this is regressive! Hopper and we should be glad he’s gone

Assertion 2: S1/S2 Hopper is inappropriately romanticized and it created unrealistic expectations for Hopper’s characterization in S3

Assertion 3: The circumstances in S3 are dramatically different than S1-S2 and drive the changes we see in Hopper’s characterization in S3

Assertion 4: Hopper and Joyce’s arguing in S3 was a symptom of a shift in their relationship dynamic, and not OOC

Assertion 5: Hopper's negative character traits were intentionally amplified in S3 as a juxtaposition for his redemption arc coming in S4

Assertion 1:

When we are introduced to Hopper in S1 he is a pill-popping womanizer. He is a jerk. In episode 1, he shows up to work hungover cracking "your mom" jokes and when Flo tells him that Joyce is worried about her missing kid he dismisses her and says "I’m gonna get on that." A frantic Joyce has to beg him to look for her son and during the conversation, he's throwing in interjections about screwing Chrissy as a teen in the back of his dad's Oldsmobile and somewhat snidely inquiring about whether Will is gay. Not a very nice dude.

It's not until later in the episode when we learn that he had a daughter who is now dead, and begin to suspect that perhaps there is more to him than the jerk-off cop from a small town. And then the first real introduction we get to Hopper, the real Hopper, is in 1x2 when an agitated Joyce asks him "wouldn't you know your own daughter's [breathing]?" He nearly caves then, caves under the weight of his grief, the pressure of dealing with a case of a missing kid, feeling empathy for what Joyce is going through. So what does he do? He retreats to his cruiser as soon as possible and pops a pill. Why? Because he cannot handle the grief and emotion. So he medicates it away.

For anyone who has ever been on Xanax (or see i.e. Benzos in general) they are typically prescribed to dull intense emotions, such as a anxiety attack. You can be in the middle of an anxiety attack (shaking, crying, unable to breathe), and a Xanax kicks in and it halts the entire thing.  You feel nothing.  When you're in pain, physical or emotional, it kills that pain almost instantly, too. And that’s what makes it so addictive. And it's not just pain that it kills, but pretty much all emotion with it.

Hopper in S1 is popping Benzos because he is at the lowest point in his life. He lost his daughter and his purpose in life. He is merely existing. He feels like a curse. Part of him even seems to feel responsible for Will's disappearance for no other reason than his own misery. Think about 1x1-1x7 Hopper for a second: can you remember a scene when he smiles? Laughs? Gets angry? Cries? Shows really any emotion at all? I've watched s1 multiple times and I don't remember one. He's so heavily medicated that he isn't feeling ANYTHING.

But then in 1x8, we finally get a glimpse of the real Hopper in glimpses of his backstory. A man laughing and playfully throwing around his daughter. We see a broken man crying in a hallway. We see a tender man reading to his daughter. This is the real Hopper who isn't just existing as Hopper is in S1, but living.

Hopper saving Will, this is the very beginning of his redemption. In that moment, he is able to bring Will back. Save him in a way he couldn't with his own daughter. That wall he’s built, quite artfully, is finally cracking.

So you see. S1 Hopper isn't what we want. S1 Hopper was in a deep dark cave. Sure, he was kind to Joyce. Helpful. He listened. He didn't lose his temper. But it's easy not to lose your temper when you're not feeling anything. It's easy to be calm and rational when you’re emotionally detached. But what kind of life is that?

Assertion 2:

In S2, Hopper is already different. In 2x1 our first introduction to Hopper is positioned similarly to S1. He pulls into the station in his police car. He's still grouchy, he's still joking around about dumb shit (dating Bob Derek) but we see a real smile from him. He goes with Joyce and Will to Will’s appointments at Hawkins Lab (we don't know how often but it's obviously frequent enough that Owens jokingly refers to Hopper as Will’s “Pop”). Hopper has a purpose again. To protect Will and Joyce, keep them safe. These are externalities.  And as someone as riddled with trauma as Hopper is, externalities make it easier to function.  Hyper-vigilance and overprotective/controlling behavior aren’t exactly admirable qualities, but they come in handy when the people close to you are threatened by inter-dimensional shadow monsters.

It’s at the end of 2x1 when we are introduced to the biggest change for Hopper: he has El. Someone to “feed, protect, teach.” And love. Turns out, love is a feeling.  And with one feeling comes many feelings.  She brought him out of that deep dark cave so now Hopper smiles. Laughs. Cries. Loses his temper. And with those feelings come all of his own insecurities, imperfections, fears.  He confides in El at the end of the season about some of these fears: he believes himself to be a black hole.  A black hole that took Sara.  Almost took Will. And could take El too and he is terrified that will happen. He apologizes for some of his bad behavior.  And we see El forgive him because she not only loves him, but recognizes that his anger and fear come from a different place than Brenner’s did.  Hopper isn’t exhibiting controlling behavior to manipulate her.  It’s because he loves her.

But here’s the thing. His apology and his and El’s recognition of his toxic behavior doesn’t make it okay, and it doesn’t magically make it disappear moving forward. 

The 2 year gap between S2 and S3, I think, gave us a lot of time as a fandom to create the Hopper we wanted in our minds.  A Hopper that moved past his trauma at the end of S2.  A Hopper that didn’t lose his temper anymore because he apologized to El. A temper he can shut off now because the Gate is closed. A Hopper who would patiently wait around for years until Joyce was ready for him and had moved on from Bob.  A Hopper who would be fine with sharing El with Mike because love conquers all. A Hopper viewed through rose-colored glasses.

But this isn’t realistic.  Trauma can often be complex and in Hopper’s case, compartmentalized, making it easy to burst forth at any given moment and often inappropriately so.  It can make you act badly, irrationally. It can be 2 steps forward and 3 steps back. And as an audience, I think a lot of us didn’t expect this to be a part of his storyline in S3.  The expectation was that there would be continuous upward growth from his arc in S2 and when that didn’t happen, it was the subverted expectations that led to the disappointment in how his arc was handled in S3.  But this disappointment doesn’t mean his arc didn’t make sense.

Assertion 3:

The Hopper we see at the end of S2 seems content.  He has El. He has Joyce’s friendship. Things are at peace, the gate is closed. All is well. Or so we think. The Hopper we see at the beginning of S3 is miserable, lonely, sad, fat, and angry. It’s kind of jarring. But so are the circumstances at the beginning of S3.  In S3, there is no longer an active threat. Everyone is starting to move on from the events of S1-S2.  Joyce and El don’t need his protection anymore because there is no active threat.  His hyper-vigilance leads him to almost shooting Betsy Payne’s dog, not shooting inter-dimensional demodogs.  His overprotective/ controlling instincts are no longer useful they’re annoying, over the top, and just plain toxic. 

In short, there are no longer externalities for Hopper to focus on, so all he has to focus on is himself.  And he is not good at doing that, because that means focusing on his fears, insecurities, and imperfections. And the circumstances at the beginning of s3 give him plenty to personally angst about The two major ones:

1) El is growing up. This is normal, of course.  Little girls become teenagers who become adults. But El isn’t a normal girl, and Hopper is not a normal Dad.  El has superpowers, and she is not a kid anymore.  She is a teenager with a boyfriend, she doesn’t need him the same way she used to, and Hopper cannot protect her the way he used to. Hopper lost his daughter when she was ~6 years old and he didn’t get to raise El for the first 12 years of her life. They’ve missed out on so much together.

And here’s the tragic thing: eventually, she will become an adult, and she will no longer need him at all, theoretically.  Hopper isn’t her biological father.  So what ties El to him, other than her need for him to protect her? In his mind, nothing.  In his mind, her growing up means turning 18 and leaving him.  Permanently.  He can’t lose another daughter. That would break him.  So what does he do?  “Try to stop the change.  Turn back the clock.  Make things go back to the way things were.” When she was his little girl he was not in danger of losing her. And because he has trauma, because he is unable to handle his emotions, he takes it out on Mike and Mike/El’s relationship. He takes it out on their closeness. This symbol of her becoming an adult.

2) Joyce is moving away.  Understandable, of course.  Her youngest son was snatched by the Demogorgon and she had to venture into another dimension to bring him back from near death, he was possessed in S2, and her boyfriend was brutally murdered in front of her. I would want out of there, too. But doing so means leaving Hopper behind.  Joyce, the one other constant in his life, who he can talk to about anything, who he relies on for parenting advice for El, who he can trust completely, who is always there for him, who he loves (who perhaps he’s always loved). And she’s leaving him behind.

So he thinks maybe, maybe, if he make her feel safe, if he gives her a reason to stay (him)...that she will.  But she stands him up and she doesn’t just stand him up, it turns out it’s because the threat was back and he not only didn’t realize it but wasn’t able to keep them all safe from it, despite that being his sole driving force.  He had one job.  And he failed.

So, you see, Hopper’s character arc in S3 is about him, and not the externalities in S1-S2.  He cannot hide behind the danger anymore.  He can’t hide behind “feeding, protecting, teaching.”  His flaws and imperfections are on full display and it’s more difficult for us, and Hopper, to sweep them under the rug. They’re amplified by the circumstances and his arc.

Assertion 4:

This is sort of an aside? But something I still wanted to address because I see it come up a lot.  Namely, that Hopper and Joyce’s dynamic in S3 didn’t make sense, was out of character, and/or that Hopper’s behavior was abusive.  I think that this particular point is important to review not only for Hopper but for Joyce as well, who is integral to Hopper’s character arc, and who I think the fandom often handles with kid gloves. Full disclosure, I AM a Jopper shipper, and have been since 1x1.  That being said, I was not bothered by their dynamic in S3 because I think it was an important bridge in the structure of the show as as well as their relationship.

We still at this point in time don’t know what Jopper’s backstory is, although I suspect we are going to finally get that in S4 based on some of the spoilers/casting calls we’ve gotten over the course of the last few months.  What we do know is at the beginning of S1 there is a familiarity between them (she calls him Hop), there are rumors around town that they fucked, and they seem to trust each other on a level that is not shared with other adult characters. 

I hear a lot of people say S2 was “peak Jopper.” Their relationship is pretty stable. They are friends, he goes with her to Hawkins Lab, she relies on him for safety and protection, they are gentle with each other.  It’s nice.  But it’s also not very personal.  Joyce is with Bob.  Hopper doesn’t tell Joyce that he’s been hiding El. They obviously care about each other (and it seems like Hopper has some feelings there) but they hold each other at arm’s length.

This isn’t the case anymore in S3.  In S3, there is no more arm’s length.  They’re co-parenting.  He shows up at Melvald’s at the beginning of 3x1 (reminiscent of Bob appearing at the beginning of 2x1) for advice, which it appears he’s been doing for months. They really have no one else but each other to confide in, which they clearly do a lot.  There are feelings there now on both sides (I don’t subscribe to the theory that Joyce doesn’t reciprocate his feelings, but that is a discussion for another thread.)

These new (old?) feelings interrupted the S2 relationship dynamic. They’re not just comfortable friends anymore reminiscing about high school. Hopper wants to be close to her, but doesn’t quite know how and blunders through attempt after attempt and the more she rejects him the more upset he gets and the worse he handles it.  Joyce is still struggling to move on from Bob and (imo) is confused about her feelings for Hopper because he is a little bit like Bob, a little bit like Lonnie (and yet nothing like either of them at the same time) and I don’t think she quite knows what to do with that except to fight her feelings and hold Hopper at arm’s length.  The end result is bickering and Hopper losing his temper, because neither of them are able to really discuss their feelings for various reasons.

Most significantly, when they’re bickering and when Hopper loses his temper, Joyce is not afraid of Hopper. She is never afraid of him. She holds her own, she argues back, she stands her ground. When he refuses to believe her about the magnets, she steamrolls him into following her to the Lab. When he shouts at her, she shouts back. When he digs at her, she digs back. The problem with characterizing Hopper’s behavior in S3 as abusive is it fails to grasp the intent behind the bickering.  They’re attempting to find a new normal, a new relationship dynamic.  The way people refer to them throughout the season is heavily coded in language that describes a “team” a “couple.” Because despite the bickering they do respect each other and care about each other and in 3x8 they start to come to that realization together.

(My other issue with calling Hopper abusive is that it makes Joyce a victim. And Joyce isn’t a victim.  She’s own her independent entity with needs and wants and desires. After 2 seasons of being “mom,” shoving her into another archetype reliant on another male character’s actions sorta sucks, doesn’t it? I really do not think this what the Duffers were going for here.)

Assertion 5:

Finally, I wanted to touch on the 3 biggest Hopper blunders in S3:

1) Constantly losing his temper. I italicized this further up because I wanted to emphasize the fact that this was not something new in S3.  It’s always been there. In S1 the benzo’s were masking it.  In S2, he was screaming at a 12 year old girl about how she cannot do anything right. It’s unacceptable behavior.  It got worse in S3 because it is also a symptom of a hurting man who is losing control of everything around him.  In S1-S2 attempting to control everything worked, in S3 it didn’t work anymore.

2) Breaking up Mike and El. After nearly a year of it just being El and Hopper, he has to share her with Mike.  Combine this with El growing up and Mike and El’s co-dependent behavior, it’s a recipe for disaster. He tries and fails at a heart to heart and starts shouting and carrying on instead. Slipping into cop mode is easier than Dad mode. It was also the wrong way to handle it.

3) Trying to push Joyce into a date before she was ready. I already touched a bit on this above in #3, but his eagerness to make her stay leads him to try to push her into something she is not ready for. The end result is more misery for him when she fails to show up, and him being a jerk about it for the duration of the season (”You know he reminds me a little bit of a Russian Scott Clarke.”)

Here’s the thing though, he makes these blunders because he’s flawed.  He’s always been flawed. And the combination of his prior trauma, the circumstances leading up to S3, the shift in relationship dynamics between him and Joyce, and the shift of the narrative from externalities to hhis internalities, make S3 very different than S1-S2. And it showed us that Hopper really is more of an anti-hero than a “good guy” and has been this entire time.

And if you wanted him to be the good guy because he had soft moments in S1-S2, S3 was just a set-up for a let-down because Hopper isn’t the good guy. He’s a jerk. And jerks don’t get the girl.  Jerks don’t get happy endings. Jerks die.  Unless they survive, and get a chance at redemption.

Being trapped in a frozen Russian gulag can kill you, or it can make you stronger.  It can make you re-evaluate what you took for granted, how you handled situations, how you interact with those you love, what really matters. And for someone like Hopper, who loves deeply despite his issues, this is the opportunity to turn all of that around and truly start over.  And if you are the Duffer brothers, you want to ying and yang that shit so the yang is that much more noticeable and emotional when it happens. This whole journey for Hopper is just as important as the outcome and as someone who loves his character, I want to be with him for that entire journey, not just the “good” parts.

So I guess, in sum, Hopper is a flawed jerk who loves El and Joyce. Who makes mistakes, but usually has good intentions. Who had a lot of bad shit happen to him. Who made a lot of missteps and mistakes, particularly in S3, but deserves empathy and a chance at redemption. Who should come back a changed man and get the girl and the happy ending. And I think S3 needs to be viewed through this vacuum in order to fully appreciate his character and the arc.

And if you read all the way through this, God Bless you.

[patandpran]

Lost and Found - A PangWave fic

Summary: Pang knows something is missing from his life and when he tries to remember, everything is blurry. Until he runs into a Gifted student named Wave with whom he feels an instant connection. Unfortunately, Wave wants nothing to do with Pang... or does he?

Post season 1, pre-season 2. My prediction about how Pang might get his memories back. 

There were times that Pang felt like he belonged to something but he often let those feelings go, especially when he remembered that he was in Classroom 8. He had always felt distant or different from others but when he didn’t get his Hogwarts letter when he turned eleven, his hope began to dwindle.

But when he went to his knew school, he felt like he had a chance. It was somewhat of a fresh start but somehow the first half of the year had been a dull blur and while he had had made some friends, there felt like there was something starkly missing. He tried many times to put his finger on it but the thought always seemed to to slip away before he could fully form it.

Until, one day, Pang passed someone that should have been a stranger in the hallway that practically swept the very breath from his lungs. The student was quite ordinary but had a fierce glare on his face and wore a pair of glasses that made Pang do a double take. He could have sworn the student’s gaze softened when he passed him but Pang might have been making things up.

Pang felt the urge to approach this stranger so he quickly turned and ran after him. Pang stepped in front of the student and quickly zeroed in on the ‘Gifted’ program pin that the stranger had on his crisp white shirt. Pang had no idea what he was going to say but the instinct to make a connection was stronger than his planning skills so he just ended up blurting out, “Hi.”

The student scrunched up his nose in what looked like an attempted facade of annoyance but Pang could see right through it. He boldly continued and shot out his hand to introduce himself. “I’m Pang. I feel like we might have met before… you seem familiar… but I don’t know your name. Sorry.”

The supposed stranger looked at Pang as if he came from a different planet but Pang caught a flicker of recognition in the student’s eye that betrayed the act that the stranger was putting on for a reason Pang could not possibly understand. Pang lowered his hand and asked, “What’s you name?”

“Wave.” The student muttered, his gaze falling to his shoes. The name made something shift slightly inside of Pang’s memory, although he could not quite connect it with anything concrete. All he knew, in that moment, was that he was determined to keep Wave talking. There was something about Wave that made Pang want to reach out to him and hug Wave in relief but he was not sure where the urge was coming from. It was both terrifying and exhilarating.

“You’re a part of the gifted program?” Pang prompted, eyeing the pin on Wave’s shirt.

At the question, Wave looked down at his shirt as if he was unsure of his response and when he met Pang’s eyes again, Wave looked as if wanted desperately share something with Pang but instead he remained silent and opted for a stiff nod in response.

Pang realized that he was likely making Wave uncomfortable with all the questions, so, as disappointing as it was, he took a step back and put distance between he and Wave. He still sensed some sort of link between them but Wave obviously did not want to clarify what it was about or maybe Pang was just looking too much for change in his life that he was making things up.

“Sorry.” Pang shared, stepping out of the way so Wave had a clear path to continue on his route to his next class. “I didn’t mean to startle you or upset you or anything. I just… something has felt like it has been missing from my life for a few months now and when I try to focus and decipher what it is, my memory is fuzzy. But then I saw you and something seemed to call out to me… Just forget I ever stopped you.”

Wave’s brows knitted together in the briefest moments of what Pang would define as concerned before it disappeared again. A look of rage replaced before Wave hissed, “I strongly suggest you keep your distance from me. There will be consequences if you don’t.”

Before Pang could object to the threat that Wave had thrown at him, Wave stalked away and disappeared into a computer classroom that only Gifted students had access to. Even if Pang wanted to follow him - and he wanted desperately to do so - it wasn’t worth the risk of being suspended for trying into somewhere he didn’t belong.

-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-

Weeks passed and Pang could not stop thinking about his interaction with Wave. It became somewhat of an obsession but whenever he tried to find Wave in the usual restricted portions of the school that were dedicated to the Gifted Program, Wave was nowhere to be found. Pang did not understand where this urgency was coming from but he felt as if something was slipping through his fingers and if he did not try to grasp for it, it would be gone forever.

The next time that Pang saw Wave, Wave was with a group of Gifted students. Pang and Nac were using a shortcut through the Gifted cafeteria to make it to the Rec field as they were about to be late for Physical Education. They did not usually use this route due to the risk of suspension but Nac insisted that it was worth it to avoid the wrath of their Gym teacher.

As soon as they stepped into the cafeteria, the students watched them like hawks, although Pang felt as if more of their attention was on him. When Wave’s eyes met Pang’s, Pang felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He did not know how a complete stranger could have this great of an impact on him. It made no sense.

Pang slowed his pace and muttered, “Nac, you keep going. I forgot something in the dorm but I don’t want you to be late.”

“Okay, see you in class.” Nac shrugged it off and continued on his way without looking back at Pang.

Pang took a deep breath and boldly approached the table that Wave was sitting at. As he got closer, Wave rose to his feet and a flicker of intensity rose through the group, as if they were preparing for some sort of battle against Pang.

As Pang looked each of the students over, there was something in his mind that whispered to him but he couldn’t make the message out. The frustration at this propelled him forward and he reached out to grab Wave’s wrist and despite the resistance that he felt immediately, Pang turned away and quickly led Wave away from the group. Wave did not protest audibly but he did put up a bit of a fight. Thankfully, Pang had the upper hand and nobody from the Gifted group seemed to be pursuing them.

Pang turned down a dimly lit hallway and found an empty classroom. He only let go of Wave’s wrist once he closes the door behind him. The classroom did not have much light but Pang could still see the look of distress and anger on Wave’s face. Pang felt immediately guilty about inflicting such emotions on Wave but as soon as he got the answers he needed, he would never bug Wave again.

“Wave. Please.” Pang urged and Wave turned away from Pang in retaliation. “I need to know what’s happening to me… I can tell you know something…. It feels like we know each other… Honestly, at this point, you can report me to the Director for all I care, I just need to understand why I am so drawn to you.”

“The Director would be the last person I shared this with.” Wave spat out as he turned back to face Pang.

Pang was shocked to see a look of fear in Wave’s eyes at the mention of the Director. It made Pang wonder what the hell Wave had meant then about consequences if Pang attempted something like this again if it had nothing to do with being expelled or suspended.

Wave hung his head, sat down on the edge of a desk and murmured, “We can’t do this, Pang. It’s too dangerous. You don’t understand what we’re up against here. It’s better if things stay the way they are.”

“No.” Pang protested and walked up to Wave. “I can’t go back to the way things were before I saw you, Wave. I…. I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t understand why… were we…”

Wave looked up and the fear that had been in his eyes before was now replaced with shock. His question came out more as a whisper, “What are you asking me?”

Pang collected his thoughts. There was something drawing him to Wave and the Gifted Program but there was also a shadow of something else dancing in his memory. Even though Wave had put up a front of aggressiveness toward him, Pang somehow knew there was something else stirring beneath the surface that he inherently trusted and, for some reason, this made him want to take care of Wave. Pang recognized the pain that Wave was in, although he did not know the source, and it made Pang desperately want to wrap his arms around the person he weirdly felt like might be his best friend, although he recalled nothing of their history aside from the emotions that linked them together.

That was one thing about memory loss, you could take away the details but not the feelings behind them. Those still remained.

Pang took a risk and tried to share this with Wave in the only way he knew how. He reached down and pressed his lips to Wave’s gently. Their lips ghosted against one another and, at the contact, Wave’s breath hitched. Pang was shocked to find Wave putting up no resistance to the action so Pang brought his hands up to cradle Wave’s head in his hands before guiding them into a deeper kiss.

Wave seemed to be relaxing into the kiss despite his initial shock. Pang felt a wave of overwhelming emotions flowing through him but he tried to remained focused on the reality that Wave was actually kissing him back.

But then the pain in his head exploded and it sent Pang reeling back away from Wave. The pressure was beyond anything that he had ever endured before and he clutched his head to try to keep some of it at bay but nothing worked. He began to cry out and stagger around, trying to resist what was going on but the pain kept surging within his head.

“Pang!” Wave cried out in a tone that indicated his worry. “What’s going on?”

Even though he could not bear to open his eyes, Pang knew that Wave was close by so he reached out for Wave. Maybe Wave could help him somehow or, at least, Pang could find comfort in knowing Wave was there.

Wave found him and immediately put an arm around Pang and guided him to the group. “My head….” Pang moaned, the pain still ripping through him.

“I’m so sorry, Pang.” Wave shared in an urgent tone. “I should have worked harder to avoid you. I knew you were looking for me… I’m so sorry that this is happening to you…”

G - G - G - G - G - G

The memories came flooding back with a force of violence. Every detail from the first placement test, to meeting his classmates, to learning about their Potentials, returned to Pang in a swift flash of recollection.

He recalled his friendship with Ohm and Namtarn, the trials that they went through and the corruption they discovered as the year wore on. All the bizarre situations that they had navigated together as each classmate’s Potential became clear, even though Pang’s took the longest to discover.

But the thing that shocked Pang the most about his memories returning was that nothing explained his feelings for Wave. They had worked together to rise against the Director but they weren’t actually together.

So why had he felt such an urge to kiss Wave? Why was that what brought his memories back?

G - G - G - G- G- G

When Pang was able to re-gain consciousness, he found himself staring up at a very concerned looking Wave. He was seemingly lying in Wave’s lap, and, fuelled by his last thought, Pang scrambled anxiously away from his friend. The shame and guilt for kissing Wave weighed on Pang immensely.

“Wave. I’m sorry.” Pang muttered, avoiding eye contact with Wave. “Please just forget that happened. I think I was just confused about us being friends. It won’t ever happen again and we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Y-you’re back.” Wave responded in such a vulnerable tone that Pang could not help but look back at Wave.

The emotion in Wave’s eyes caught Pang off guard. He suddenly realized how difficult it must have been for Wave and the rest of the Gifted class to pretend as if they did not know Pang after everything that had happened - how painful and confusing that must have been when he got to go on back to his previous life and live in ignorance when he had been the cause of the problem.

A smirk replaced the look of relief on Wave’s face, “Took you long enough.”

Pang could not help but feel something in him unfurl. Despite crossing the line with the kiss, it seemed like Wave was just happy to have Pang back and that made Pang feel like they were back to where they had been right before he lost his memory. Things didn’t need to be weird now that they knew where they both stood and Pang had his memories back.

“Happy to be back.” Pang answered, a grin stretching across his lips.

“We tried so many ways to get you back.” Wave explained, shaking his head. “But we had to be so careful and none of them seemed to work until…”

“Until I kissed you.” Pang confirmed and felt the jolt of guilt return to him. “Like I said, we don’t have to talk about it. We can just pretend it never happened and tell everyone that you played the video for me somehow.”

“No. I don’t want to forget about it.” Wave explained and Pang felt his heart racing. “... I missed you so much.”

Pang could hear the pain in Wave’s voice and he dared to reach across the distance between them and grasp Wave’s hands in his. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you again. I missed you without even knowing what I was missing and look where it brought us. Wave, you’re what brought my memories back. If it took me losing them again to figure out how I felt about you, I’d do it.”

“Don’t joke about that.” Wave’s tone became stern and Pang chuckled fondly at how stubborn Wave was.

“So....” Pang leaned in closer to Wave. Pang was careful to not touch Wave as he asked the next question as he wanted to be absolutely sure that Wave was responding of his own free will, not because of Pang’s Potential. Pang continued, “I guess we should make up for some lost time. Can I kiss you again?”

Wave simply nodded. Pang closed the distance between them and brought their lips to meet once again. Whatever the future held, Pang knew that Wave and he could handle it. Now that he had his memories back, it was time to rise up against the Director and make a change but it was going to take everybody working together to make the kind of change they really needed.

Sometimes it took losing something to figure out what you wanted from it in the first place.

[frostedfaves]

To Build A Home (6)

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: Rosa spent years building a friendship, relationship, and eventually a marriage and home with you. This tale follows your journey together up until her sudden murder. Now that you’ve tracked down her killer before anyone else, will you do the right thing and send him to prison or take care of him yourself?

Warnings: brief mentions of a bomb threat, robbery, and alcohol use, poorly written detective work, Jake and Amy ignored on their own wedding day (I’m still so sorry faves)

A/N: this part doesn’t feature as much Rosa and wife interaction as the previous parts because I needed to set the scene for something that will come back later ;) but I hope you still enjoy it! feedback appreciated as always

Previous chapter here

-

Your eyes roamed around the small store after passing the crime scene tape, assessing a surprising lack of damage for a robbery. You didn’t expect the place to be trashed, but there was barely a sign of a struggle or anything taken in a hurry.

“Hi there.”

You turned to face a white man in his possible fifties, at least from what you could tell with the graying strands of hair and incoming wrinkles around the eyes. A hint of a smile was directed your way as he stretched out his hand.

“You must be the detective the cops told me was coming. I’m Mark Collins, the owner of this place.”

“Detective Y/N Diaz,” you introduced yourself before pulling out of the handshake. “So you said you were robbed. What happened?”

He quickly explained to you the events that took place, starting with firing an employee the night before and leading into his return this afternoon.

“I had a feeling Thomas would retaliate and I would’ve been prepared for him, but my sister brought her daughter by this morning and they’re both terrified of guns, so I hid it in the back. I have a license for it, by the way,” he added when your brows raised at him.

“Do you mind if we take a look at your security footage?” 

You followed him into his office, watching as the same situation he described to you played out on camera. You sighed a bit when the armed man shouted his reason for taking the money, feeling that Mark owed it to him to help pay his rent since he didn’t give him time to find income elsewhere. Although you’ve felt the pain of suddenly losing your job before, it didn’t justify you or anyone taking money from someone else.

“Alright, I’m going to need a copy of that footage downloaded. I’ll come back for it later. I’m also going to need the address you have on file for Thomas so I can pay him a little visit.”

-

Twenty minutes later you pulled into a parking spot just down the block from the apartment building of your suspect. You’d just taken off your seatbelt after cutting the engine when your phone rang, a smile appearing on your features at the sight of your wife’s name and picture.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted cheerily as you locked the car doors again. “How’s the wedding day craziness going?”

“Even crazier than expected,” she told you with a sigh. “You’re not on your way yet, are you?”

“No, why?”

“Someone called in a bomb threat on the rec center, so that’s getting checked out while Jake, Amy and Charles try to figure out who did it. I’m waiting for Terry to call back the driver of the car that he left Amy’s veil in.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, so you weren’t kidding when you said ‘crazier than expected’.”

“I was not.” She chuckled along with you for a second. “So where are you?”

“I’m currently outside of where my suspect may or may not be. On the security footage you can hear him say he stole the money for rent since he doesn’t have a backup job but…” You let out a sigh of your own. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m giving him too much intelligence credit, but if I robbed the store I just got fired from, I wouldn’t go back to the address I gave my manager. Still going to give it a shot anyway.”

“Okay, well I won’t keep you on the phone much longer. Driver’s pulling up anyway. Be safe, and I love you.”

“Love you too, Rosa. See you later.”

You made your way up to the apartment quite easily as the lock on the secured door was broken. A knock went unanswered for several seconds. A second knock brought you face to face with a woman much younger than Mark.

“Detective Y/N Diaz,” you introduced yourself as you held up your badge for her to see. 

“Jessica Moore,” she offered. “What’s this about?”

“I’m looking for Thomas Moore. Is he here?”

“He was, but you just missed him by about an hour.” She shrugged. “Tommy was sleeping on the couch for a while because his girlfriend kicked him out. He was only gone maybe half an hour before he came back saying he was headed home, packed up his stuff and left.”

“Do you know where this girlfriend lives?”

“No, sorry. I don’t even know her name! Every time I ask about her, he just tells me I’m asking too many questions, as if he doesn’t try to interrogate every guy I’ve been on a date with,” she grumbled off to the side with her arms crossed.

“I know the feeling,” you told her and she turned back to you with a hopeful smile.

“You have brothers too?”

“Nope, just familiar with men and their double standards.” You pulled a business card from your jacket pocket and gave it to her. “Call me if he shows up, and thanks for your cooperation.”

-

After gathering all the evidence you needed from the crime scene, you’d arrived at the precinct just in time to see Holt cleaning up what used to be a cake version of the Nakatomi Plaza. You had your questions, but you simply saved them for a moment when you weren’t completely focused on your case. Every single moment of the day, every conversation that didn’t come from the computer where you were studying surveillance footage was ignored.

“Yep, Terry fumbled the task. But we got you a bouquet.”

Your ears couldn’t help but tune in at the sound of Rosa’s voice, this moment being the first time you’d heard her in a few hours. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from your work until her hands gently landed on your shoulders, effectively melting the tension from them.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You turned in your chair with a smile, which instantly fell as you caught sight of Amy in a wedding dress. “Please tell me I didn’t accidentally work through the wedding.”

“Jake, Amy, let’s go downstairs. It’s wedding time!” Charles addressed the pair with a proud grin and Rosa gave your shoulder a teasing nudge.

“Looks like you’re just in time. Come on.”

-

“But I do have some bad news. There’s a bomb at this wedding as well.”

“What?” The frown on Jake’s face matched yours, both of you confused by Amy’s calm demeanor.

“Your butt. Your butt is the bomb. There will be no survivors.”

“I love you so much. You’re my dream girl.”

Your laugh at the adorably childish pair was cut short when you realized Rosa was staring at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just missed you today.” She threw her right arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you in to lean against her and dropping a kiss on your hairline.

“I missed you too.” Your left hand grabbed hers, locking your fingers together in her lap, both of you smiling at the reciprocated skin-to-ring contact. Satisfied with the physical touch, you both turned your attention back to your nearly married best friends, brows raised as you watched a robot from the bomb squad bring the rings down the aisle.

-

You thanked Rosa as she placed two drinks on the table, sliding into the booth next to you and this time wrapping her left arm around you. You slipped your fingers through hers once more as they dangled over your shoulder, extending your thanks in the form of a quick kiss on the cheek.

“So how did it go earlier? I’m guessing by the way you were buried in your case that your suspect wasn’t stupid.”

“No, he wasn’t,” you sighed. “I found his sister, who told me that he’d left some time before I got there to go back home to his girlfriend. I can’t find any evidence of him having a girlfriend, but I have to wait until Monday to get a search warrant for the apartment. So I won’t know whether or not the sister was lying until then.”

“Well when you do find him, which I know you will, don’t forget to call me. I love watching my woman take down bad guys.” She winked and you laughed so hard you nearly snorted.

“What about you? How’d you end up with a shower curtain and flowers instead of a veil?” you asked after settling down, keeping your eyes on her as you sipped your drink.

“The customer after us knocked the dry cleaning bag out of the car when he left and we found it soaked in urine because, you know, New York streets are gross like that.” 

She shuddered, her look of disgust shifting into adoration when you held her glass and straw up to her lips. As you returned it to the table, you caught sight of Jake and Amy gazing at each other like no one else existed within the walls of the bar.

“I’m so happy for them. I can’t believe our best friends are married.”

“I can,” she responded as she shifted even closer to you, her eyes landing on the pair. “They’re the perfect example of the ‘opposites attract’ concept. They’re going to grow old together.”

“It’s funny that you say that, because they think the same thing about us.”

She turned back to you, that specially reserved smile back on her lips as she took in your appearance. Using the arm around you, she guided your own lips close enough to leave a kiss on them that was far too short for your liking. She settled back into the booth again and picked up her drink, her eyes never once leaving yours.

“Let’s prove them right, then.”

-

Tags: @gaulty74 @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @milkfromhell @xetherealbeautyx @jay-is-groovy @marie-03

[finderstrails]

Highway Woes [Session 2]

Our characters for this session are :

Pirrip - A sweaty cacogene with extending limbs and a hydraulic bicep. He’s the caravan clerk and has a habit of gambling.

Fane Many-Moons - An imposing, but fragile, chimera synth with a single green eye. She’s the caravan oracle and is preoccupied with Urth’s moons and satellites.

Symmeon - A sneaky synth powered by blood. His priest outfit got him hired has a healer, although he was programmed an assassin.

Samar Xan Hevran (NPC) - Leader of the Hevran caravan, she’s a fierce True-Kin looking for the fabled city of Oralens.

Jamik (NPC) - A quiet and careful New-Coyote, the right man of Samar.

Storm Discussions

After the fight from the previous day, the Iron Slug convoy makes its way through terrible weather. A fiery sand storm and thunderous lighting hits the blue desert which ends up clogging Fane with sand and her metallic joints take a bad hit. The whole convoy is slowed but the downtime lets the travelers discuss various subject.

"Fane, what exactly is the future?" asks Symmeon. "The future is a past that hasn't happened yet." answers Fane in her metallic and catatonic voice. The assassin synth is confused. He leaves and meet with Pirrip.

"Do you believe in chance?" as he hands Pirrip a dice he stole in Sulfri a couple days ago. "Oh... sure yea... of course. You need chance sometime..." mumbles the stout man. Pirrip tosses the dice getting an unimpressive result. Symmeon focuses on the metal object, spinning the score to 20. Pirrips stutters with excitation.

The next day, Samar ask Fane for foresight. They meet in the Cartographer's quarters with Jamik.

The Cartographer explains : "So there are two exit to the R3 Interchange, which we should be arriving any time soon. The Prima North, which leads to some sort of plateau and eastward toward Calban's Crevasse. Both paths are somewhat heading north east."

Looking at the moons, she wonders at both alternative. Invoking her augury gift, she sees that The Prima North seems to lead to a higher plateau, away from the desert storm and toward a large sphere tube structure. Heading eastward appears to be a calmer route with the bridge going over Calban's Crevasse still in proper shape. Both journey through the interchange presented the possibility of bandits and hazards, but in the end, the small group voted to go toward Calban's overpass.

Dead Ends Loop

The convoy eventually reaches the R3-Interchange, a large multilayered road structure hanging over the desert. Desolated and full of wrecks, the ruined highway intertwines in a series of large loops of busted concrete. At the entrance, a large highway sign has been spray painted : Dead Ends Loop. The caravan slowly navigate toward the Calban's Crevasse, smashing the littered cars and junk upon their way. Pirrip notices another sign : Murphy's Dinner, best Coffee and Bean, R2 exit 71. "That sounds good... Everyone needs a good coffee!"

Fane guides Jamik, who's now driving the first Iron Slug. Because of her previous vision, they avoid hazardous section of the road. Everything goes well until they hear loud sounds coming from the upper levels. Motorbike, obnoxious laughs and series of gunshots. The convoys stops and everyone is tense and a few put their hand on their weapon. Suddenly, someone screams : "ROCKET! ROCKET! " and everybody ducks as the projectile explodes near the rear end of the caravan, injuring a couple of members.

Jamar puts the Iron Slug in full speed, trying to escape the biker gang. Symmeon, frenetically watching back and forth for other threats, detects the two bikers launch a second rocket, now heading straight for the head of the convoy. Without making any grand gesture, the synth channels its new magnetism gift at full force to deflect the missile, who crashes a few feet away from the road. They finally get away from their firing range but still hear their irritating hysterical laugh.

As they climb their way up the second level at full speed, everyone fail to notice the large cave-in section of the highway. Jamik tries to stop but the Iron Slug slowly tips over the edge of the road. Fane, quick on her feet, treads to the back of the large Iron Slug. Pirrip locks his magnetic boot on the platform while Jamar and Symmeon are pushed forward, tilting the vehicle in a dangerous position. In a desperate attempt to stabilize the situation, the heavy chimera lift on two legs and deploy her wing. Everyone held their breath... until the bulky vehicle finally  landed back in a thunderous racket.

Now travelling with extra rattle, they decide to head over Murphy's Dinner for a much needed coffee... and repairs.

Coffee and Mushroom

Murphy's Dinner is located away from the R3 Interchange but is connected with a single road leading to this outcast section. The small settlement is built around a singular loop, 30 or so feet above the ground. Two mains buildings, Murphy's Diner and Rusty Ratchet make most of the small but active shelter. Bikers and travelers are either snacking on beans, trading motor parts, waiting for repairs or delivery. Pirrip is asked to find someone to fix the Slug while Fane and Symmeon go on their own, recharging their battery (... or blood reserves).

Pirrip heads in the diner for his coffee and tries to find someone who could do the repairs. He can't help but notice the four identical red mushroom figures sipping silently on the same coffee bowl and chuckles a bit. At the bar, two fellows are talking about the pro and con of electro-propulsion so Pirrip chimes in and ask if they'd be willing to repair their big wagon in exchange of three questions to be answered by a real oracle. They agree and get to work, eager to get this divine knowledge.

The nights goes on to the sound of flux torches and UV welding. Meanwhile Symmeon inject himself with disgusting green cacogene blood, all he could find during the day. He also spends the night talking with Tyrus, a small quirky pyramid synth who's part of the expedition.

The next morning, Samar, Jamik and our crew talk about the next course of action until they notice two red mushroom, seemingly starring at them (without having any eyes). Pirrip yells at them to scare them off but this seems to trigger the opposite.

"Your caravan is noisy, we could feel you from miles away. You disturb the balance." The mushroom notices Pirrip's iridescent pistol. "Where did you get this weapon?" Pirrip tries to smash him but the two red mycomorphs scoot away in the diner.

Symmeon sneaks on them for a bit until one mushroom discerns him. Unscarred, the mushroom asks him about Pirrip and his weapon, where the caravan is headed and is he would be interested in taking his arm. "Wait sorry? Taking your arm?" "Yes, yes, take my arm!". Symmeon pulls and the flimsy tiny mushroom arm splits and curls up in his hand, still twitching. "Thank you Mr. Symmeon"

The Iron Slug now repaired, the two mechanics find Pirrip for their reward who then introduces them to Fane, the grand oracle. The chimera, surprised, listen to their question, some petty some quite curious. "There's this strange transport vehicle on R3, I've been trying to access the inside but I can't find the entrance.." She answers calmly "You will find the door when the sun shine the brightest...". The last question surprises everyone : "Oh grand Oracle, how can you be sure that time doesn't actually flow backward? The sun isn't dying, it's being born, isn't it?" Fane pauses for a second "Vaarn will eventually be in darkness, I fear it is inevitable..." "I assume you're right... strange times". Upon leaving, Fane asks the repairsynth for a brush, which he agrees to give as a parting gift. She then uses the brush to clean out the left over from the sandstorm.

Now with functional vehicles, and the belly full of coffee and beans, they return to Dead Ends Loop once more, hopefully with better luck this time.

GM’s Note

This was a good session, but I realize that my GMing for travelling (in the desert, first part) was the weaker part. Maybe it was just too long? It gave the player some time to roleplay interesting discussion about chance and time. 

Also, I should have made the repair time at Murphy’s Diner longer, not only it would have leaded to more interesting encounter there, but also would have made the vehicle damage more important to consider

[mercheswan]

He is Mine!

You can also find it in AO3 -> User: MerCevans

“Okay kids! Let’s go, first day of Elementary School, we’re leaving in five!” Peter Hale shouted descending the stairs.

Theodore Raeken-Hale heard his dad’s call and quickly grabbed his shoes and his bag, he stopped in front of the mirror to look at himself, Theo wanted to look good, today was an important day, he was going to meet other kids, human kids, and that made Theo uneasy although he wouldn’t admit it.

Theo was five years old and he was a Werewolf, like the majority of the members of his Pack, his family. Theo didn’t born as a werewolf, though, his parents died when he was a baby, and his father, Peter, saved him and adopted him. He turned into a Werewolf thanks to the bite, that was given to him, by his aunt, the Pack’s Alpha, Talia Hale.

Theo adored his family. He had a step-sister, Malia, she was five years old too and even though, she and Theo fighted a lot, deep inside everyone knew that they really cared for each other. Theo also had three cousins; Cora was also five like Theo and Malia, she was serius and matured for her age’s, but when Theo and Malia planned a prank she was always on board with it. Derek  was eleven, Theo admired him, Derek was strong and very popular, Theo wanted to be like him in the future. And Laura who was fourteen years old, was meant to become the Pack’s Alpha someday.

Theo exited his room and met Malia on the corridor. “Malia wait!” Theo said joining his sister.

“We have to run or Dad is going to leave without us!” Malia exclaimed as she started to run towards the Mansion’s entrance, Theo following behind.

“Are you excited?” Theo asked.

“I guess… I’m worried too… you’re so much better at control than I am, I don’t wanna hurt someone or show my fangs or flahs my eyes accidentally” Malia responded.

Theo, Malia and Cora had been learning to control their powers. People couldn’t find out about them being Werewolves. Despite being kids they were stronger than an average person and they could injure someone unintentionally, so they have to be careful.

“You’ll be fine” Theo assured and Malia smiled.

Theo and Malia met their father at the entrance who was waiting with Cora and Talia.

“Finally! Come on children to the car, we want to make a good impression on your new teacher, right?” Peter said and the kids chanted affirmatively.

“Remember your training, you’ll be fine, have fun, you’re making the Pack really proud” Talia proclaimed saying goodbye to the children.

                           ————————

Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilisnki was on the verge of dying of excitement. Today he started Elementary School, he had been waiting for the day to arrive, Stiles wanted to meet and play with his classmates, and show them his new “super cool Star Wars backpack”.

“Mommy, mommy come on! We don’t want to be late!” Stiles bounced at the entrance of the Stilinski household.

Claudia Stilinski, Stiles’s mother, laughed “Mischief wait! You have to grab a jacket is a little bit chilly outside”. Stiles adorably cocked his head to the side assessing what her mother wa saying, before nodding and running upstairs to grab a jacket.

“You’re full of energy today Siles, Did you take your adderall?” Noah Stilinski questioned his son.

“Yes Dad!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Be good, listen to your teacher and don’t be too noisy” Noah advised.

“Nonsense! Just be yourself Mischief, you’re going to make very good friends this year” Claudia assured his son, hitting his husband on the arm.

“Well I’ll be going, I’ll see you tonight so you can tell me all about your day, okay kiddo?” Noah said kissing his son on the head. Stiles cheerfully nodded.

“Bye Dad! Come on Mom we have to leave too” Stiles excitedly said.

Claudia followed his imperactive child to the car with a fond smile on her face.

————————

Peter Hale parked his car in the Elementary School’s parking lot. There were lost of people already saying goodbye to their kids. Parents and children crying and shouting everywhere. Peter’s and the children’s Werewolf senses were overloaded. Peter sighed, what an exhausting day.

The children exited the vehicle. Malia noticed that Cora smelled nervous and took her hand to calm her down. Peter was proud of her girl, Malia wasn’t a very sentimental kid, she was very connected to her animal side, but gestures like this proved that she had an soft side too.

“Let’s go to the entrance, we can see in which class you’re going to be” Peter claimed and the children followed him.

They walked towards the entrance. Then Peter felt a tug in his trouser, Peter looked down and saw Malia pointing with his finger to the other side of the parking lot. Peter glanced at the direction his daughter was signalizing and saw Theo walking in the opposite direction, apparently lost. What’s he doing? This kid is way too good at sneaking it’s going to be problematic in the future Peter thought.

Since Theo exited the car there had been something, some kind of pull inside him that was calling to his senses, to his inner wolf. Theo could hear many hearbeats, he could hear many voices, there were too many people but if he focused enough there was one heart who beated louder than the rest. There were too many scents in the air but Theo could sniff clearly the sweet scent of someone who smelled like chocolate, cinamon, lavender, enthusiasm, and some chemical substances that usually would bother Theo’s senses ,but for some reason Theo couldn’t understand, they didn’t.

Theo needed to find this person, they were here, so close, and his wolf was ordering him to identify them. So without thinking too much Theo moved away from his father, sister and cousin in walking in the direction his instints were telling him that he would find them.

When Theo saw the boy for the first time he paralyzed. The boy, who had to be his age, was breathtakingly beautiful, with pale skin covered in moles and a bright smile, he was talking with a woman, his mother allegedly. Theo needed to hold him, now.

Theo stood in front of the boy who looked back at Theo with a smile and a questioning expression. Theo smiled back and out of the blue hugged the boy who made a cheerful noise and hugged Theo back. When they separeted theo shocked them even more.

“Mine” Theo claimed with a grin taking the boy’s hand into his.

Peter who was walking towards Theo to collect him heard what his son said thanks to his Werewolf hearing and froze. Wait did he? He can’t possibly have found his… Peter thought.

The Werewolf reached to his son. “Theo you can’t wander around, you can’t leave my side” Peter schooled his son.

“Dad! Look! I found him, he is mine!” Theo excitedly shouted while rounding the boy with his arms. Oh my God he did! Peter’s mind screamed.

“No, no Theo, we don’t own people!” Peter said to his son trying to make him behave like a human.

“But Dad! He is so pretty, look at him he is perfect!” Theo protested not letting go of the boy. Peter could feel his son’s inner wolf’s anger, ready to defend the boy who had caught his eye from whoever tried to harm him. Peter needed to calm Theo down.

“Theo that’s enough! You can be the boy’s friend , I’m sure he would like to make a new friend” Peter reasoned with his son. “I’m so very sorry about his behaviour, he must be nervous because it’s the first day of school” Peter apologised to the boy’s mother.

“Oh no, don’t worry, your son is adorable. See Mischief I knew you were going to make good friends this year. I’m Claudia Stilinski nice to meet you” Claudia said.

“Peter Hale likewise. First day is always stressing, for them… and for us” Peter responded and Claudia laughed agreeing.

“Mischif?” Theo asked.

“Only mommy calls me that! My name it’s from a coutry that’s very far away and it’s very difficult to say. It sounds like Mischief and that’s why mommy calls me that, but you can call me Stiles, people call me Stiles, I like it!” Stiles happily rambled.

“Stiles” Theo repeated the name, and Stiles smiled.

“You are weird” Stiles claimed. Theo’s smile dropped from his face, Peter could feel waves of sadness coming from his son. This is not going well The adult Werewolf thought. “I like it! let’s be friends!” Stiles cheerfully exclaimed. Theo grinned widely and both children laughed. Peter huffed relieved.

“I’m Theo” Theo introduced himself. “You smell so good” Theo said sniffing Stiles’s neck.

“It tickles! Hahaha!” Stiles giggled out loud.

“Theodore!” Peter threated.

“You are pretty too” Stiles said blushing a little bit. Theo’s look at Stiles’s words could only remind Peter of those japanese cartoons the children watched in which the characters had hearts in their eyes. Theo never acted so sweetly with anyone this kid must really be the one Theo’s wolf chose. So young… It’s incredibly uncommon Peter thought.

“Dad… we have to go inside…” Malia intervened with Cora next to her, the two girls were confused about what was happening.

“Oh you’re right! Come on sweetheart, come on” Claudia added.

“Who are they?” Stiles asked looking at Theo.

“My sister and my cousin, Malia and Cora” Theo explained.

“Oh! Nice to meet you! I’m Stiles, I’m Theo’s” Stiles said making Peter jump out of surprise. The boy smelled human to Peter he should not be able to feel the bond between he and Theo.

“You’re cute” Malia said.

Stiles smiled brightly. “Thanks! You’re pretty too, like Theo, and you too!” Stiles said speaking to both Malia and Cora.

Theo growled and grabbed Stiles’s hand. It appeared that his inner wolf was jealous about his boy complementing other wolves. Malia and Cora turned around to look at their relative with widen eyes. Rule number one don’t growl or howl at people. Peter was seriously considering taking Theo home his wolf was out of control.

“Wow! That was so cool! You sound like a dog! No! Like, l-like a wolf! Do it again!” Stiles exclaimed.

“He can’t!” Cora confronted.

“Do you like wolves Stiles?” Malia questioned.

“Malia!” Cora hissed.

“Umm yes, they are strong and like big dogs that sing to the moon” Stiles answered.

Theo smiled. “I love wolves. What’s your favourite animal?”

“The fox! They are very nice and the move their tail when they are happy and they like to play a lot!” Stiles blurted.

“You can be a fox and I can be a wolf” Theo claimed and Stiles squeezed Theo’s hand happily.

“Wolves and foxes don’t like each other” Cora argued.

“The can be friends if they try!” Stiles argued back.

“Oh kids look almost all the children have already enter. Mischief, be good I leave you with your new friends” Claudia kissed her son.

“Let’s go inside” Malia proclaimed

“Theo, maybe you should come with me home, you are a little bit out of control” Peter suggested trying to make his son realize that he wasn’t acting as he was supossed to.

“No!” Both Theo and Stiles chorused. “I’ll be good I promise, I’ll be with Stiles and obey the teacher” Theo pleaded.

“Ok. Behave all of you” Peter conceded.

Theo, Stiles and Malia grinned widely and Cora smiled softly. They entered the building where a lady guided them to their class.

“I like you backpack. Star Wars is so cool!” Theo said. Stiles stopped and looked at Theo with awe before hugging him tight. Theo giggled.

Both Peter and Claudia looked at their sons Exchange with fondness.

“I’m so glad that my son met yours, they are going to be very close, aren’t they?” Claudia said softy to Peter.

“Yes, I think they will” Peter responded. “Your child is very special”

“So is yours, they were bound to meet. I guess we’ll see each other a lot” Claudia smiled, Peter nodded. This family is very interesting is like they are connected somehow to the supernatual, or at least they feel it insome way Peter thought.

Peter drove home and when he entered the house her sister intercepted him.

“How did it go? Were they nervous, everything went all right?” Talia questioned.

“Cora and Malia were nervous and excited at the same time. Theo found his mate” Peter blurted.

Talia froze. “What are you talking about he is five!”

“The mother was nice, there was something mystical about her, and about the boy too. And driving back home I realized that I had heard the last name Stilinski before, I belive the husband is a deputy” Peter explained ignoring his sister.

“Peter! Theo is a child you can’t possibly know for sure that he found his mate!” Talia insisted.

Peter shrugged. “Some people find them before others” Peter concluded sitting on the sofa. An exhausting day indeed.

Theo Raeken-Hale is five years old and a member of the Hale Pack. He, his sister Malia and his cousin Cora are starting Elementary School.

When Peter drove the kids to school the last thing he was expecting was for his son to find his mate.

"Mine" Theo claims hugging Stiles.

"Theo, we don't own people!" Peter hisses

"But he is beautiful! Look at him!" Theo insist.

Stiles giggles. "You're weird! I like you!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------—————————

Theo's mate couldn't be an ordinary human. It had to be a bright one.

"Because you're Werewolves!" Stiles exclaimed.

"What makes you say that?" Laura asks covering her panic.

"It's obvious" Stiles says.

Oh well.

Theo, Malia, Cora and Stiles were seven years old. They were doing homework in the Hale Mansion.

Stiles integrated himself nicely in the Pack. Malia loved him and although Cora pretended to be bothered by his attitude sometimes, she really liked him too. The rest of the members got used to the imperactive human’s presence. Even Derek didn’t mind having the little mischievous kid around. Stiles was noisy and loud but he was beloved by the Werewolves. They understood the bond Theo and Stiles had and they knew how sacred it was.

Theo was smitten by Stiles even more than the day they met. Theo had a talk with his aunt about the bond he shared with Stiles. She called them mates, Theo didn’t care he knew that Stiles made him happy and that he wanted to protect him and be with him forever.

Stiles’s parents were happy that their son found loyal friends who treated him right. Noah and Claudia often diner with the Hales. Talia wanted to have a good relationship with them. Talia knew she would have to eventually tell them about the supernatural, them and Stiles, but she wanted to wait a bit more until Stiles was older. That was her plan.

Stiles closed his book roughly “Done!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Already? You’re too smart Stiles!” Malia complained, everytime they made their homeworks together she was always the last one to finish it.

“I finished too” Theo claimed and Stiles smiled at him.

“Don’t lie, you haven’t done the last two questions” Derek said to his cousin lying on the sofa reading a book. He had been entrusted with supervising the kids.

Theo poutted bitterly not liking getting caught.

“Cheater!” Stiles accused with a laugh.

“What’s going on here?” Laura asked entering the living room.

“Homework” Cora answered concetrated in her book.

“Finish already! I want to play baseball! I won’t see you in the next few days” Stiles pouted.

“Why not? Are you leaving with your parents Stiles?” Laura questioned.

“No, but It’s the full moon in two days” Stiles responded making the five Werewolves of the room froze.

Derek closed his book and looked at Laura with a little bit of panic in his eyes.

Laura collected herself. “And what does it matter that is a full moon?” She carefully asked.

Stiles looked seriously at the future Alpha. “You are Werewolves, you get affected by it, don’t you?” Stiles allegued.

Derek’s eyes widened, Cora, Laura and Theo looked at Stiles with an atonished face.

“You told him?” Malia asked Theo, who looked at her sister denying it.

“Malia!” Derek hissed. Stiles looked at the Wolves with a questioning expression. “Mom!” Derek screamed.

“She is not home” Laura muttered. The rest of the Pack were working or dping some chores.

“Uncle Peter!” Dered shouted again.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles inocently asked.

“You called?” Peter said entering the living room.

“Stiles says we are Werewolves” Cora blurted making the rest of the Hales look at her with a surprised expression.

Peter blinked “I see…” He said calmly. “Why do you think that Stiles?”

“It’s obvious” Stiles said. “Theo is a Werewolf so you have to be too”.

“Why is Theo a Werewolf?” Malia asked.

“His favourite animal is the wolf, and Theo makes cool wolf noises too. He is also very strong he moved alone the big wardrobe that time when I lost my pencil. Also they found claws of an animal in Jackson’s jacket the day he was really mean to me. Theo is sniffing me all the time and he licks me with his tongue too” Stiles explained. “That only happened once!” Theo protested. Stiles giggled. “Sometimes Malia’s nails are super long, your eyes” Stiles motioned to all the wolves “are very bright” he added. Stiles faced Theo “Your eyes flash yellow, they are beautiful” Theo smiled sweetly at the compliment.

Peter hummed out oud. “Have you tell anyone about this Stiles?

Stiles denied with his head. “It’s a secret, right? Our secret!” Stiles answered.

“Yes is a secret. You can’t tell anyone Stiles, bad people could come after us” Peter explained.

“Ok, I won’t tell. I’ll protect you like Theo protects me” Stiles claimed looking at his mate, Theo grinned widely before kissing Stiles on the cheek making the human blush. “Do you turn into wolves?! Can I see!?” Stiles asked animated.

Laura smiled. “No we don’t we only shift a little,  we can show you other day” Laura said.

“Well mom can turn into a real wolf” Cora added.

Stiles beamed. “Cool!”

“I will be able to turn into real wolf when I’m older” Theo claimed trying to impress Stiles.

“You don’t know that!” Malia argued.

“Kids! You can finish your homework later, Why don’t you go play in the backyard?” Peter sugggested.

Stiles agreed enthusiastically grabbing Theo’s arm and running towards the backyard.

Derek, Laura, Cora and Malia stood there watching at the older wolf. “He was going to find out sooner or later, the kid has a very bright mind, don’t worry, since the begining Stiles has been able to feel somehow the mate bond with Theo, he won’t do anything to harm him, or us” Peter reassured his family. “Go to play” Peter insisted. Malia and Cora stood up and and ran to join the boys.

“Are yo usure it’s gonna be all right?” Derek questioned.

“Yes. I guess we have to invite the Stilinskis to diner after the full moon, and we will have to invite everyone” Peter proclaimed.

It would have been better to wait a little longer, but seeing how happy Stiles made his son, everyhing was worth it.