#you kept trying to save her even when the world was crumbling around you

[fellhellion]

Literally gnawing on that one bit of emotional honesty from Miguel where he hears Gwen helplessly say she has no idea how to fix this - and that’s what shakes him - giving that wry reply about her joining the club

[kamaluhkhan]

in my head, i play a supercut of us

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: drinking + smoking. lots of plot + flashbacks. there is some mention of injuries, body issues/self esteem (reader is a competitive swimmer), complicated family dynamics (reader is eldest daughter), slight allusion to alcoholism.

a/n: ohhh this turned out much longer than i expected it to be!! honestly i have so many ideas that this will probably become a series. for now please enjoy the summer, childhood friends to lovers to strangers vibes ;)

you still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy you as much as it used to. you still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago. (alida nugent)

now — summer, age 18

driving up to the beach house after so many summers have passed, you’re struck with the memory of your first time swimming. 

it was mid-june in cousins; you must have been four years old. you stood on the edge of the pool for an eternity, until your father became impatient and threw you into the deep end. you screamed, imagined your lungs being filled with cold water, drowning in darkness. your neighbour had run over when he heard, and your father had to hold him back from jumping in to save you. instead, your life jacket kept you afloat, and soon enough you were kicking as though it was the most natural thing in the world. you discovered your love of swimming that afternoon and in that your father found his star athlete. you also realized your love for conrad fisher, the boy next door.

your summers in cousins, the friends you’d met here, conrad fisher — these composed your metaphorical lifejacket, once preserving your childhood. you’d taken it off for too long, spent years in the deep end alone, keeping yourself afloat, moving towards a carefully constructed future. now it all started to crumble, and here you were again, a different person; you wondered if the others were different, too. 

it wasn't your first choice to come back to cousins, but you were determined to make the most of it. after unpacking your things, you decide to make your way to the beck house, right next door to your own family’s. 

you knock once, twice, three times. there's no answer, so you figure that everyone is either in town or at the beach. you start to walk away when you hear the front door open. 

"excuse me!" laurel park's voice calls. you turn around, and the shock on laurel's face is clear. "y/n! oh my god, i almost didn't recognize you!" 

"four summers can do that," you note. 

you hear your name from inside the house, and before you know it, belly conklin excitedly runs out and tackles you in a hug. 

"hey, bells," you laugh. you notice how dressed up she is, something that changed from the oversized t-shirts and patterned shorts you remember her always wearing. "cute dress. where are you off to?" 

"oh. there's a high tea at the country club. sort of like an introduction for the debutante season." 

you raise an eyebrow, looking past belly towards laurel. "is this a lemon jelly belly situation?" you’re referring to the code phrases you used to exchange for different situations, depending on different flavours of jelly beans: pear, toasted marshmellow, lemon. it might have been childish (you were kids at the time), but it always worked. more than anyone, you know what it’s like to be pushed into something too quickly, too soon. even after all these years, and even though belly is only two years younger, your instinct is to defend her at all times.

"possibly," laurel sighs. 

"it's not," belly insists, giving her mother a pointed look. "i wanted to try something new this summer, and susannah promised it would be fun." 

the two of you walk back towards the house. when you reach the door, laurel brings you into a tight hug. the three of you walk into the kitchen, and you find yourself taking the seat you had once claimed as your own — a stool at the counter, third from the left. belly settles down next to you, and laurel grabs a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge while you reach over to take three glasses from the drying rack. 

belly explains more about the debutante season, and mentions that steven and jeremiah are both working at the club this summer. she doesn't get around to what conrad is up to, because laurel suddenly checks her watch, then sighs. 

"i hate to cut this reunion short, but belly, we'd better leave if we want to make that tea of yours." 

"right." belly looks at you with a frown, like she's worried you'll disappear if you're out of sight. "i'll see you later?"

you smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "i'll be here all summer," you promise, and belly beams.

"you’re coming to my book party?" laurel asks, though it's more of a statement than a question.

"yeah, sure," you promise, sipping your sweet tea. "i'll see you guys there." 

with one final see you later and another hug from belly, you're left alone in the kitchen. you wonder if the fishers still keep the cereal in the same cabinet; if their cupboards are filled with the same sugary snacks you were never allowed to have, but you and the boys would sneak when the adults weren’t looking. 

"y/n, my little mermaid, is that you?" 

susannah always called you her little mermaid — inspired by your love of swimming, yes, but also that one summer you were convinced that mermaids were real, so you and belly spent hours looking for clues on the beach and painting your nails iridescent turquoise. all the adults scoffed at you, but susannah was the only one who played along, who allowed you to believe that magic was real.

instantly, you rise from your seat and hug susannah.

"you have no idea how happy i am that you're here this summer," susannah whispers. as you break away from your hug, susannah places her hands on your cheeks. she looks happy and healthy, if a little tired. you can't help but think of the years you’d been gone when susannah and her family were dealing with so much. there was only so much connection texts, calls, and emails could provide. to be here now, seeing susannah fisher alive and well? 

it was almost too much.

tears threaten to spill, but you swallow them. instead, you reply: "so am i." and, certainly more than before, you mean it.

“conrad’s out back if you want to come say hi. i’m painting his portrait. he’s been a bit down lately, but if anyone can make him feel better, it’s you.”

you feel your cheeks heat up. you finish the rest of your sweet tea and put your glass in the dishwasher, not quite feeling ready to face conrad — there was a complicated history between the two of you. unresolved tension, hurtful words, that sort of thing.

“i’ll, uh, let you keep painting. i should go get ready for laurel’s book party.”

“alright. i’ll see you there, sweetie.”

“yeah,” you confirm. you start to walk away before hearing susannah’s voice again:

“and, y/n?” you turn around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

later that night, at laurel's book launch party, you watch conrad pour another glass of wine, and wonder whether or not you should join him. his eyes catch yours from across the room, but he quickly looks away. belly ended up having a date, she'd texted you earlier, and you were roped into a conversation with your mother and susannah before you could find stephen or jeremiah. 

"they grow up so fast," susannah muses. she then wraps an arm around your shoulder. "i can't believe that our eldests are 18! conrad’s off to brown in the fall — how about you, y/n?”

“princeton,” your mother boasts, draining the rest of her cup and grabbing another from a tray passing by. that’s her third glass, by your count. “we were so proud. it’s the best women’s swim team in the country.”

“stanford is a close second,” you interject. “besides, we don’t even know if i can start swimming for real by then.”

you’d broken your ankle a month and a half before. it didn’t need surgery yet and you were out of your cast, but you couldn’t return to your usual level of activity for a while — which meant no training camp, like you’d been going to the past few summers.

“you know, i did always picture you on the west coast,” susannah smiles at you. “all those beaches and sunshine.”

your mother frowns, ignoring susannah. “don’t be ridiculous. if you spend the summer doing your physical therapy and resting, you’ll be back in the water before we know it. your father and i agreed — that’s why you’re here.”

you resist the urge to argue with her and instead block her out as she brags about your siblings getting top prizes in their academic decathalon. the twins were thirteen now and had plans with their friends tonight, sparing them from attending this event. no offence to laurel or susannah, of course, but you’d rather be with your friends.

when you look for conrad once more, you notice that he's been roped into a conversation with laurel and someone who your mom had pointed out as cleveland castillo. even after all these years, you can tell when he needs backup: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching the room for an out.

after excusing yourself from the conversation, you make your way over to conrad. 

"hey," you greet, nodding at laurel and cleveland. "mind if i borrow this guy? we've got some catching up to do." if either laurel or cleveland said anything more after yes, then you don't hear them, already pulling conrad away.

you lead him to the back corner of the room, near a small couch. neither of you make a move to sit; neither of you say anything. up close, you could see the shadows under his eyes, the creases in between his brows. he was always quiet, the more calm and thoughtful one of the group, but always with soft edges, especially when it came to you. now, quiet could have been replaced with brooding, and all those soft edges seem sharper.

“so,” you start. you grab the wine from conrad’s hand and take a sip. “are you gonna keep ignoring me, or are you gonna welcome me back?”

“when my mom said you were back, i didn’t believe her.” conrad looks at you, his face still. “i wish you hadn’t come back.” 

stung, you take a deep breath. after everything, conrad thought that was the best way to greet you? if cold and closed off was how conrad wanted to act, you could play that game, too.

“fuck you,” is all you say before joining jeremiah and steven on the other side of the room.

steven’s eyes widen once they land on you. "no fucking way. y/n!" steven exclaims. "thought you'd never come back here, man." there’s a joyful undertone to his comment as he smiles. same old steven: always blunt, always laughing. 

"yeah, well, i’m here.”

jeremiah just beams at you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

“jere,” you giggle, half scolding, fully floating.

“sorry, sorry!” he laughs, setting you down. “i just — i can’t believe you’re here. how come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”

“yeah, well.” you shrug. “i thought you liked surprises.”

“well, i do. especially if it involves seeing you.”

"yo, speaking of surprises — what if we ditch this party and surprise belly at the drive-in?" stephen suggests.

you shake your head, though leaving was very tempting. 

"or, instead of ruining your sister's first date, we get some booze, light a fire, and go get drunk on the beach," you suggest.

"oh, i am so down!" jeremiah exclaims. "you've got my vote." 

“hell yeah.” steven grins and throws his arm around your shoulder. "you always did know how to show us a good time."

then — summer, age 11

you had plenty of bonfires before, on the beach with your parents, but that summer marked the first one with just the kids. you begged and begged, and eventually the adults were okay with it since conrad had earned his boy scout badge for fire safety in the spring.

it was the beginning of july, and an unseasonably cold evening — basically, perfect bonfire weather. jeremiah helped susannah make hot chocolate for everyone. belly wanted s'mores, so you had biked with her to the store earlier that day for the ingredients. everyone was stuffing their faces with slightly burnt marshmallows as melted chocolate and graham cracker crumbs decorated your cheeks, and you chased it all down with lukewarm chocolatey liquid. you were kids and it was summer; life was sweet, life was good. 

"conrad," steven announced, turning to the boy who was pushing a marshmallow deeper into the fire. "i dare you to go dunk in the ocean." a grin erupted on steven's face, and in the glow of the fire, he looked like the cheshire cat. 

"no way, man. it's freezing."

you knew the real reason conrad didn't want to go into the ocean. one night the week before, when the parents were out to dinner and the other kids were asleep, you and conrad had stayed up to watch jaws together, having rented it secretly from the local video store. ever since, conrad had been coming up with excuses to not go swimming at the beach. 

"what's the matter, con? you scared?" jeremiah taunted, wearing a similar cheshire grin to steven’s.

"what?" the marshmallow conrad was trying to roast fell into the fire. he huffed, and belly handed him another one. "i'm not scared. it's just freezing."

"come on, man. you’ve gotta do it. besides, there's a fire and hot cocoa here for you when you get back," jeremiah reasoned. ten-year-old jeremiah was never very concerned about following the rules, except when it came to truth or dare. 

"i'm good," conrad snapped.

"aw, i think he's scared," steven laughed.

"i'm not scared —"

"what if i went with you?" you interrupted him. 

"but it's not your dare," belly pointed out as she continued carefully assembling a s'more. nine-year-old belly was competitive, so it was very important to her that the rules of any game were followed. 

"yeah, but if connie —"

"is scared," jeremiah coughed under his breath.

"wants company," you continued, ignoring jeremiah. "then, it'll be more fun, right?" you were a mix between jere and belly: you were competitive, but you didn’t particularly care about following the rules. especially when it came to your friends, even more when it came to conrad.

conrad smiled at you softly. "right." 

reluctantly, jeremiah, belly and steven agreed to the terms of the dare. you removed your beach cover up, and conrad his shirt, leaving you both in your swimsuits, dry even with swimming in the pool a few hours before. you ran to the water, pulling conrad with you. you stopped at the edge of the sand, waves tickling your feet and the light, and warmth, of the bonfire a recent memory. it was much cooler here, closer to the water.

"ready?"

conrad nodded once. "ready." 

hands still clasped together, you jumped into the ocean, leaving the comfort of the shore behind. 

now 

jeremiah finds stale marshmallows in the kitchen and steven makes a bonfire on the stretch of beach between your two houses. you head home to change out of your silk mini skirt and back into denim cutoffs. you switch your cream blouse for a short-sleeved button down, left open over your favourite bralette. when you get back to the beach, the boys have invited some people over, most of whom you don't recognize. 

"here," jeremiah hands you a lukewarm beer, which you accept gratefully. then, he throws an arm around your shoulder. "come on, there's some people i want you to meet." 

jeremiah introduces you to a few guys he works with at the club, and some girls who are doing the deb thing with belly. 

"jeremiah mentioned you’re a swimmer." gigi, one of the debs, smiles, eyeing the way jeremiah leans against you. "what's that like?"

the girls all wait expectantly for you to answer. 

"intense," you decide. you leave it at that. the fire flickers a few feet away, vibrant and alive. 

you want nothing more than to go back to those summer nights when you were kids. you want belly to be looking at the stars for elaborate constellations while jeremiah burns marshmallows to a crisp. you want steven to be laughing and making outrageous, impossible dares. you want the five of you together, huddled around a small fire that conrad had carefully crafted. you want conrad to be okay. 

"i hear that competitive sports can like, really fuck with a girl's self-esteem and body image," gigi continues. you don't necessarily think she means it as an insult, and it's certainly not anything you haven't heard (or felt) before, but you still bristle.

"like i said: intense," you answer cooly. 

"hey, man, when are we gonna get the marshmallows going?" steven suddenly appears, his face slightly flushed. he holds hands with shayla, who, as jeremiah pointed out earlier, steven is dating. 

"in a bit. i asked con to pick up chocolate and graham crackers for s'mores." jeremiah looks around before saying: "speaking of: look who's here!"

jeremiah runs off to meet his brother, while you stay back and take a sip of your beer. 

"looks like he brought nicole, too," steven observes.

who the fuck is nicole? 

nicole, you learn as the group sits around the bonfire and roasts marshmallows, is the girl conrad is either dating or hooking up with. jeremiah isn't quite sure.

the night grows darker. the air is warm with smoke from marshmallows roasting, the smell of burnt sugar dancing around. people start to leave to go to other parties, and soon enough it's only steven, shayla, nicole, conrad, jeremiah, and you. having less people around made it harder for you to ignore conrad. nicole is nice and pleasant to talk to, but you can't help but feel something churn in your stomach when you see how close nicole and conrad are to each other. plus, she's wearing a red sox cap, and you know for a fact that conrad hates the red sox, unless that obviously fundamental part of his personality changed too. 

jeremiah must have noticed, because he suggests a drinking game for the group to ease the tension. 

"never have i ever gotten a tattoo." 

you’re the only one to take a sip of your drink. 

"i meant a real one," steven rolls his eyes. 

"i do have a real tattoo." you remove the button down and point to the left side of your rib cage. 

the others take a closer look, except conrad, of course. he was always an expert at pretending not to care, but so were you. tonight is a prime example: since the bonfire, you hadn't said a word to each other. 

"why a starfish?" nicole asks. she leans further into conrad’s arms.

you look at conrad, briefly, then shrug. "i like the beach." 

the game continues until the fire dies down, and you’re left with a burning sensation from conrad glancing in your direction, at the starfish etched on your skin.

then — summer, age 13

"that's disgusting," steven said, scrunching his nose. 

"no, steven, that's friendship," you replied, just as jeremiah leaned over to take more from your cup, and vice versa.

"right, friendship." belly raised her eyebrow at you, and you rolled your eyes in response. you then decided to take an interest in your formerly white sneakers (after so many summers, they were now decorated with sand and sea water and permanent marker doodles. your mother hated them.)

that summer, belly became convinced that jeremiah had a crush on you. she said that he was absolutely lovestruck and that you were too blinded by years of being best friends with him to notice. jeremiah had made you promise not to tell belly the hilarious irony of the situation — that it was belly he so clearly loved.

"see, steven. friendship can be sweet!" jeremiah grinned, chewing the chunk of bubble gum he had fished from your cup. that was the type of cheesy thing only jeremiah could say and make others laugh unironically. 

years before, when you were just kids, you and jeremiah believed you had solved the most complicated problem in the world. you loved bubble gum ice cream, but hated the bubble gum chunks. jeremiah loved bubble gum chunks, and didn't care if the flavor clashed with his favorite rainbow sherbert because he loved you even more (platonically, of course). 

during the whole interaction, conrad was silent, looking out towards the beach. 

the five of you had walked to the nearest ice cream shop (there was no baskin robbins in cousins, but some nautical themed place with 50 flavors and unlimited toppings). you decided to come back and sit on the porch of the fisher house (where there was a decent amount of shade) rather than on the beach. it was one of the hottest afternoons of the summer, late july, when the sun was at its peak. those who'd been coming to cousins their whole lives knew that being at the beach in such weather was only good for swimming. 

you glanced at conrad, who took another bite (an actual bite) of his chocolate ice cream. he was sitting on the railing instead of the stairs like the rest of you, so you had to crane your neck slightly. you tapped his ankle, which was decorated with a temporary tattoo. the night before, the two of you had found a few left over from when you were kids and, having a sugar rush from too much cream soda and root beer (and maybe stolen sips of sangria when the adults weren't looking), decided it would be hilarious to see if the tattoos still worked. so, conrad had a cartoonish-looking shark on his ankle, and you had a similarly cartoonish-looking starfish on your arm. 

"you okay, connie?" you asked. you only got a nod and a small smile in response. more and more, as summer crept on, conrad would be laughing, loud and lively, one second (exhibit A: using those temporary tattoos the night before was his idea -- we don't want them to go to waste, y/n, he grinned mischievously) and the next he'd be silent, closed off (exhibit B: since you came back from your ice cream excursion, he'd barely said a word). 

even though you couldn't really read minds, you had an aching feeling that you knew what conrad was thinking in that moment, because you’d been thinking it, too: time was passing too quickly. in a few days, it would already be august, and september was just around the corner. the summer - your childhood - was as temporary as yours and conrad’s tattoos: vibrant and saturated, slightly faded, then gone. 

"i wanna go swimming. anyone wanna join me at the beach?" jeremiah suddenly asked. 

"i've gotta pick up the twins from day camp, but i'll try to meet you guys later." you knew that wasn't true though — things were getting more and more tense between your parents, your father storming out angrily after useless arguments and your mother passing out on the couch after one too many glasses of wine. someone needed to watch your siblings, and neither of your parents seemed pressed to find an actual babysitter.

"i'll stay with you," conrad said.

belly and steven took jeremiah up on his offer. once the other three were gone, you stood up. "scooch over." conrad shifted slightly and you went to join him on the railing, your knees practically knocking together. 

"so. did the tattoo help you get over your fear of sharks?" 

conrad took another bite of his ice cream, this time with a giant chunk of chocolate. "i don't fear sharks," he replied. then, he turned to you and shrugged. "i just respect them, you know?"

you bumped your shoulder against conrad's. "right. you respect them so much that you avoid the ocean at all costs." 

conrad smirked. "says the girl who avoids eating on the beach because she's scared of seagulls!" 

you were laughing, teasing each other, not caring that your ice cream was melting, when mr. fisher opened the front door, car keys in hand.

"oh, hey kids. we were wondering where you were."

"we went to scoops ahoy," you explained. you took a bite of your ice cream and resisted the urge to spit it out once you realized that it had a chunk of bubble gum in it. 

"better watch the ice cream, huh, y/n?" mr. fisher said, smiling like he said the funniest thing in the world. he patted his stomach to further his point. "if you want to keep up at those swim meets."

you suddenly froze, mid bite. you cleared your throat and dropped the spoon back in your half-empty cup, suddenly queasy.

"dad," conrad said, not raising his voice, but definitely irritated. "what the actual fuck."

"language, conrad," mr. fisher scolded. without another word, he got in his car and drove away.

"he shouldn't have said that," conrad said instantly.

"it's fine," you replied, too quickly to be true. you set down your ice cream between you and conrad. "it's nothing my own father hasn't said to me."

being a teenage girl was brutal, and competitive swimming amplified that, especially the older you got. there was always someone faster, someone more skilled, someone better. ice cream churned in your stomach at the thought. was your father right: had you wasted your summer, not practicing your technique and stuffing your face with sugary treats? 

conrad picked up your ice cream and handed it to you. he then took the spoon from his own cup, and stated: "fuck dads who are jerks." 

you couldn't help but smile. somehow, he always knew what to say to make you believe that you weren't alone, that things would be okay no matter how fucked up the world was. 

"fuck dads who are jerks," you echoed, raising your spoon.

"and,” conrad paused. he looked at you with gentle eyes. “to always being there for each other."

you smiled at him, heart soaring. "to always being there for each other." 

you clinked your spoons together, and ate your ice cream, and shifted closer so your legs pressed together — and it didn't feel like a temporary promise.

now

you always loved mornings in cousins. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water at its most peaceful.

the morning after the bonfire, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. as quietly as you can to avoid waking up the rest of your family, you make a fresh pot of coffee and pour some into your favourite mug. it’s from the rainforest cafe: bright green with a cartoon frog on it. you brought it back from a swim meet in niagara falls when you were 10, and got one for the fishers as well. theirs was orange with a cartoon iguana. conrad would use it all the time; you imagine it collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard now.

you make your way down to the beach, and notice someone already sitting at your usual spot by the water.

conrad doesn’t say anything when you sit next to him. he’s wearing a red hoodie over his clothes from last night, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. he glances at you as you sip your drink. 

“morning,” he whispers.

you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time conrad spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.

“morning,” you finally reply. 

as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, conrad lights his cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you. in turn, you offer him your mug. a peace offering — you both accept. the space between you becomes open, comfortable.

“since when do you smoke?” you exhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs. 

conrad takes a long sip of coffee, looking out towards the ocean. “since i quit football.”

“i thought you loved football.”

“i loved it,” conrad answers. he takes another sip, then gives the mug back to you. “i don’t love it anymore.”

you take another drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.

“once you love something, you never really unlove it,” you muse, even though you know exactly what he means — when it comes to sports. 

“don’t misquote spirited away at me,” he laughs, and you can’t help but smile. the first time you'd watch that movie was when you were 8. all the kids crowded into the den of the fisher house on a rainy day. susannah prepared an impressive spread of candy, popcorn, and soda for you all. you drank dr. pepper from a twizzler straw and cried when chihiro reunited with haku.

conrad glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his brown hair, the hazel of his eyes. golden, radiant. 

you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.

“i’m not sure nicole would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope conrad doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, conrad knew you too well. 

“you don’t get to do that,” he snaps.

“do what?”

conrad scoffs. “be jealous.” 

“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

“so, you are jealous?”

you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.

“it’s too early, con. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”

there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your house, the beach and conrad further away with every step you take.

it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.

[avatarl0v3r]

HEY PRETTY! Could you write about neteyam x fem!reader where in the end he doesn't die but they manage to save him and it was just a big scare, after the whole fight is over and they return to metkayina... they go to a part away from everyone and reader heals the wound and there are some touches on the thigh and kisses... nothing more than fluff and some angst for the fear that reader felt when he almost lost it. fluff and little angst...

NeteyamxFem!Metkayinareader

Index: Neteyam and the reader are dating and neteyam gets shot

Warnings: mentions of death, and angst

You were with Tuk, Lo’ak, and Kiri, Neteyam on the ground gasping for air “This is my fault i shouldn’t have ever-“ “Lo’ak! this isn’t your fault you were doing what you thought was right, saving your sisters because that what brothers do” You say stern enough to get him to stop rambling while still putting pressure on the wound going threw his side.

Tisreya hugged Lo’ak seeing the tears in his eyes she then bend down and hugged you she then looks at you and put her hand on you shoulder “He must get back soon maybe mother can help” You looked at your sister tears flowing out your eyes.

“A-And what if she can’t!, then what, what’ll happen then!” Neteyam reaches for your arm “Y/n i will-,” you watched as more tears filled your eyes as he was struggling to get his words out “i will be fine” You kept pressure pray to the all mother she would help him.

You sat there applying pressure to him side looking around frantically looking for either Jake or Neytiri your watch as Neteyam’s grip on your arm starts to loosen “Neteyam! Neteyam! Neteyam!” You start to scream his name as his grip loosened completely both Lo’ak and spider pulling you away from him.

No! No! No! please don’t leave me you can’t leave me please

Tears soaked you face as grief washed over your body you where pulling and kicking trying to get away from them to get back to Neteyam as you screamed and kicked and tried to rip out of their grip but they were much stronger.

Jake and Neytiri finally showed up Neytiri was crying over her son you fell to the ground crying and screaming you’ve never felt this kind of pain before it was as if someone ripped your heart out and ripped it in half.

Neytiri called her Ikran over and gave him to Lo’ak “Ride him back to the village and bring y/n and Neteyam back with you” He nodded

Neteyam was brought to a room you weren’t allowed inside Ronal asked what had happened and Lo’ak explained and she nodded she told him no one was allowed inside and said to take you back to your hut to rest he did as she said you followed him back to your hut where he left you to rest.

Everyone was back in the village everyone was at dinner but you. you sat there for two days you haven’t seen your mother, you didn’t smile, didnt eat, your brother Ao’nung made you get out much to your annoyance and when you did go with him you just looked at the ground.

You both walked passed the hut Neteyam and your mother were in you both looked over when you seen your mother exit the room you looked at her with hope in your eyes she closed her eyes and looked down and shake her head as he walked back into the hut.

Ao’nung wrapped his arms around you holding you close as you fell to the ground feeling your whole world crumble he felt his heart break as he held you, you’ve always been the strong one even during deaths but this was something different and he didn’t know what to do so he just sat there with you in his arms.

Tuk came and found you and tried to comfort you but nothing worked you just looked at her “I’m sorry Tuk” Your voice cracking at the end.

Tuk then walked over to you and hugged you to which you gladly accepted “Y’know Neteyam loved you, a lot he wouldn’t shut up and we’ve only been here for a few months” Her words made you smile and hug her tighter.

You then end the hug and stand up she followed and you held out your hand “Let’s go” She smiled and grabbed your hand excitedly you both walked back to the village and you took Tuk home upon walking up to their hut Tuk ran towards her parents.

“Tuk where have you been?” She then turned and pointed to you and you stood there smiling at them Neytiri walked up to you and hugged you and thanked you for bringing Tuk home you smiled and said it was no problem.

You started to walk back to your hut when you walked passed the hut Neteyam was in you decided to walk in not caring what your mother said you walked in and seen Neteyam laying there you walked over and sat down by him.

You grabbed his hand and sat there studying his face it was quiet for awhile you let reality set in as you realized he was gone but you had a feeling he was still there.

“NeNe,” (na-na) you hesitate for a moment thinking you’d be crazy for trying this “squeeze my hand if you can hear me” for awhile nothing happened and you lost hope coming to terms with the fact he was gone your eyes started to tear up until you felt a light squeeze.

You instantly let go and ran out the hut trying to find your mother you desperately ran around the village to find her you seen her from afar “Mother! Mother! it’s Neteyam, come quickly” She followed after you and found herself in the hut where his body lay.

“Y/n what is it?” She said slightly worried “Mother Neteyam he squeezed my hand” She looked at Neteyam then you “My beautiful daughter, you need to come to terms that he’s gon-“ you interrupted her “Im telling the truth see for yourself.”

She sat down and grabbed his hand “Neteyam if you can hear me squeeze my hand” After a few moments nothing happened and she closed her eyes sighing “Y/n he’s go-“ Her attention instantly went back onto him as she felt him squeeze her hand.

“Hurry get my things,” you only looked at her “now!” you hurried and grabbed her things and she started to work on him again this time you helping.

After what felt like hours she stopped working you looked at her confused “Now we wait,” she said as she stood up “you’ll stay here and watch over him throughout the night if anything happens come find me” You nodded at her words and she walked out the hut.

You stayed awake most of the night even though you were laying right next to Neteyam just watching him you realized you still needed to sleep “nga yawne lu oer Neteyam” (i love you).

“Y/n, wake up” You woke up slightly and ignored the person calling your name and turned the other way “Hey, are you ignoring me for sleep?” Still half asleep you replied turning around to face the person “Leave me alo-“ your words got caught in your throat “Neteyam!” you jumped up and hugged him tears of joy rolling down your face.

“Ewya has heard my prayers” You say as you continue to cry, Neteyam just holds you happy to see you again.

You let him go realizing Neteyam is alive “I’ll be back” You run outside and to the sully family they all look up confused because of how early it is “It’s Neteyam,” you say out of breath “hes alive.”

Neytiri jumps up and runs to the hut and is greeted by a sight she never thought she would see again her son sitting up looking at her “Neteyam…thank you all mother.”

The rest of the sullys pool into the room excited to see their brother and son, you turn to leave to find your mother and tell her the news.

That’s night at dinner everyone was happy and talking and laughing amongst themselves you found Neteyam.

“Neteyam,” you say as you look at him “i want to show you something” her gets up and follows you far away from the village.

You sat down and he does the same he then turns to look at you “What are we doing out here?” you didn’t say a word instead just looking out at the sea tears filled your eyes he moved closer and placed his hand on your thigh you cried at the thought that you almost lost him “You can tell me anything you know this Y/n” you turned to him.

“You don’t understand I almost lost you,” you say as you looked at him he held you face in one hand “i-i thought you went to be with ewya” You said looking away from him he turned you’re head gently to face him “I would never leave you.”

You smiled slightly “Maybe so but you don’t make the choice” He didn’t understand at first but then once he did he kissed your forehead “I may not have a choice but it’s up to Ewya,” he rested his forehead against yours “but Ewyas choice was to let me stay here.”

You looked down at his torso and noticed the blood still on the cloth wrapped around him “Here sit” You say as you pulled out a new cloth you keep on you at all time incase something happens he sat down and let you change the cloth.

“Just please don’t scare me like that again,” you sighed “and don’t do anything risky like again i do not know what i would do if i lost you Neteyam” He didn’t say a word and just let you continue in silence.

You both headed back to the village and your mother instructed that he was to stay inside the hut until he was able to move how he normally would just so the somewhat scar doesn’t rip open and so he’s closer to their hut so she could get to him faster incase anything was to happen.

The two of you sat there in the hut together just enjoying being in each others presence you kissed his face to which he smiled to then you kissed his lips Neteyam doing the same back to you you two then rest your foreheads on each other’s and close your eyes

“oel ngati kameie” (i see you).

I decided to try a new pov instead of first person idk which on i like better if i’m honest but we’ll see

[babygirl-riley]

I’m Sorry Alternative Version

A mission that was suppose to be easy turns sideways as you lay bleeding out, watching Simon panicking trying to save you.

A/N: @batmanunicorns523 hope this is what you had in mind 👀

“Haven’t I given enough? Given enough? Always the fool with the slowest heart.”

Warnings: angst, childhood trauma, trauma, blood, violance, near death, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

Blood. Crimson. Gasping. Crying. Everything that Simon never wanted to see you do. It wasn’t suppose to go the way it did, just him and you in the mission. Scope out and confirm the target, however the patrol was never spotted as they came from behind the both of you. Everything was fine, took the squad out done. Until more came.

Both you and Ghost retreated or tried to until the group caught up. The bullets lodging into your leg, shoulder, and chest. You fought until the last solider dropped, you didn’t notice or feel anything until Ghost looked at you. An emotion written all over his face. Something you never seen. Fear.

You looked down to see the blood seeping through your winter gear. The white slowly staining into a red. You looked up at him before feeling weak and started to crumble. He looked over your body before saying something. The words left his mouth but you couldn’t catch them. All you heard was ringing in your ears. You became terrified, you could feel your body weakening, feeling nauseous, tired. So when he picked you up and carried you through the snowy mountains, you didn’t feel anything by that time.

You watched as the trees sprinkled the snow to the ground. It would have been beautiful, you always love the trees when they were covered in snow. You blinked slowly trying to look at Simon. Not Ghost. Simon. Ghost seemed calm yet Simon, his eyes told you different. Panic written on them as he searched the area around them, making sure no one followed. He sprinted up the stairs of deck on the safe house, running through the door. You groaned feeling the pain even more. He set you down quickly and softly, hushing you while watched your color fading.

Simon tossed his gear to the side and his gun next to you just in case they did follow. He ran around the house grabbing alcohol, tissues, any sort of fucking clothing. He had to stop the bleeding. That was the first thought that ran through him, no matter what happens your blood needed to stay.

You stared up at the ceiling feeling the nausea come through once again. You couldn’t die not like this. Not with him here. Watching you die. You knew of his past and you didn’t want him to add another haunting to his memory. You saw a blur and you try to focus your eyes to him. His eyes wild, his chest covered in crimson. Panic went through you as you reached for him, he pushed you hand aside. Is that his or is that…Oh.

Simon knelt next to you as he searched which wound to tend; he saw the blood seeping through to the couch. Simon has seen blood many of times, many different ways, how many pints been taken out; this was no different. However, Simon wanted to throw up, watching the love of his life bleed away from life. Watching the color drain. Watching her soul being yanked by death himself.

He got to work quickly working on the one on your thigh. Grabbing a towel to tie above it to stop the bleeding. You moaned as you looked away, feeling your eyes start to shut. “Nuh uh y/n eyes on me!” He yelled sternly. You tried to sob as you tried to. “I know love I know just keep lookin’ at me yeah?”

Simon’s gloves became heavy as the blood was staining them. He took his gloves off throwing them somewhere as he kept working. There was so much and not one being controlled. He couldn’t loose you, you ware his rock, his world. You kept him grounded. If you leave him…

“Fucking hell,” He mumbled putting pressure on your chest. “I gotta take it off,” Your eyes moved to him it seemed like you were there. He nodded as he pulled a knife and ripped through your jacket and other items of clothing beneath. When he saw it, it was nasty, it wasn’t just one hole there was two. He took a deep breath and kept going. The more he worked the more blood came. “Fuck! Fuck! Come on!”

His frustration was clear, which made it clear for you. You were not making it out of this. You frowned. “It’s okay baby.” You whispered your voice raspy, wheezing.

“No, no stop baby I gotta get this,” He shook his head he placed a hand on your cheek, you felt the red warm stickiness stain your face. Tears welling up. “I’m so s’rry baby, it’s okay it’s fuck-I don’t know what to do! There is just so much fuckin’.” His yelling continued as he worked on you.

“It’s okay,” You kept repeating feeling like death was right there grabbing you taking you. You watched as his eyes was full of panic, you knew that look. The look of ‘there is nothing we can do.’ You had to tell him, you thought that it was an asshole move. But he needed to know. “I love you Simon…Riley. I..I lo…” You couldn’t finish as your eyes started to become heavier. Watching Simon yell, as his eyes widened.

Simon starts to panic, pure fucking panic. Simon started to shake you a bit, then again harder. Thinking how he did the same with his mom, memories flashing back and forth. He let out a growl before yelling out your name. Rocking back and forth before inhaling, petting the sides your face begging for your beautiful eyes to open. “Sweethear’ just stay with me! Please! I can’t loose you too! Fuck come on!” His hands froze for a moment then went back to work on the wounds, while the rest of his body froze inside.

Simon thought that this was it, you were out of his grasp. Once your eyes shut his mind will go with. His heart will go down as well. No one will be able to break down the barriers again. He wouldn’t let it happen. His mind went to the happiest moments with you to become more plagued of never going to see this again. Until the bleeding stopped, slowly letting him help you.

It was hours before he got your bleeding to stop, hours of tears, sweat, blood. Simon placed his fingers around your wrist where the pulse would be, weak. Very weak. He leaned back on his heels as he overlooked you. He watched your chest to slowly see it rise and fall. You were breathing barely but you were alive. He sat there for a moment before sitting down all the way taking a large inhale.

Simon felt his body shake as he watched you. You could have been dead right now, no life, paler, no chest movements. He thought about everything that both of you could have been doing that wasn’t here. Simon would have taken you to a beautiful resort, somewhere where no one would bug him or you. Smiling and laughing at nonsense together. Hell he even thought about how you would be in a wedding dress. Walking down to him. Holding you. Kissing you.

Simon felt his lip tremble as he went into a more darker place in his mind. Seeing faces of his dead loved ones, that could have been you as well. Laying with them. All pale and gone. He couldn’t lose you, couldn’t add you to the pile. Simon gulped before pushing himself up, you laid still as he placed with a small sheet on you to keep you warm.

His mind ticked as he stared more thinking and memorizing all your features. This sheet could cover you completely, hiding the fact you were there. Dead. His finger twitch before he snapped his body away. “Fuck,” He whispered, pacing. His heart was thundering against his chest. Chewing his lip. “Fuck!” He threw the med kit across the room as it smashed against the floor. Simon realized that he still had the damn thing glued to his hand.

Simon couldn’t control all the emotions that ran through him. The rage. The sadness. The sorrow. The spite. The relief. Everything, it felt like his blood stream was yelling for help try to cool the home that was burning everything. Simon stood breathing in and out before the radio went off.

“Bravo 7 come in,” Simon stood still the ringing of his ears coming down to listen to the surroundings. “Bravo 7 how copy?”

Johnny. Simon thought he reached up to the button of the walkie. “Bravo 7 copy.”

“Thank Mary herself,” Johnny sighed. “Where ya at LT, tryin to get ahold of y/c/n.” Simon looked over at you, then looked at your radio, which your radio was broken. Bullet got caught inside of it, which he thanked whatever was out there. Maybe that one wound would have taken you. “Ghost?”

Simon blinked a couple of times. “She’s in critical, when can we get extraction?”

There wasn’t an answer for a moment before Price’s voice came through. “How critical?”

Simon bit the inside of his cheek. “She los’ lots of blood, she will need a blood transfusion. I was able to stop the bleed barley. Is there an ETA?”

Price sighed. “The storm is fuckin’ with our sensors,” He mumbled. Simon’s heart started to drop. “We don’t know until the storm subsides.”

Simon looked out the window, he didn’t even noticed the wind that was yelling outside. The snow fighting around each other, covering any sort of distance from the house to outside. Simon looked at you as nothing changed, watching your chest move up and down.

Simon shook his head. “She doesn’ have that time Price.”

“She will have to Ghost.” He replied quickly.

Simon started to chew his bottom lip now. What if he can’t keep you stable? One wrong move and you could be gone. Just like he did with Tommy. Like his mom. Like his neph… “Simon,” His attention was brought back to his radio. “We will keep in touch, just hang on.”

It was a couple hours before you started to stir yourself awake. The nightmares of continuously running and dying, jolted you awake. Your eyes snapped open as you tried to jolt up but felt heavy. You yelled loudly, as the pain flashed through your veins. That’s when panic came in, looking around with your eyes. Where’s Simon?

Simon rushed over as he shut the door watching your body trying to get up. “Love,” He yelled as you still kept getting up. When he reached your shoulders and soft pushed you back down. “Stay still.”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you stared up at him. You winced as the pain worsened and you held back a scream. Simon’s heart sank as he placed his hand on your forehead. Soothing you as he let out soft hushes. Simon pulled out a stim shot, you winced as you bit your cheek. “It’s ‘ight love ‘m right here.”

Your lip trembled as your body started to calm down a bit. “I-.” Your sentence dropped as you coughed.

Simon got up quickly to find a canteen in his pack and to come back and help it to your lips. You drank carefully as you gripped his wrist. You leaned back down panting becoming more leveled breathing. It was silent for a moment as he rubbed circles on your hand. “How long has it been?” You mumbled your voice hoarse.

“8 hours minimum.” His eyes haven’t met yours since waking up. Looking to the side or down.

You nodded as you tried to grab his attention to you. “Whats…hm the damages?”

His eyes looked at your body, his shoulders going stiff. Simon thought about the possibility of you being dead hours ago. That he wouldn’t be hearing the scratched honey of your voice instead just dust and echos. His imagination. His memories. Simon shook himself mentally before clearing his throat. “Ya have 4 bullet wounds, couple of bruises, and loss of blood. Lots of it. Probably need some blood transfusion when we get back.”

You nodded, reality hitting that would mean that you almost died. You flipped your hand around and grabbed his. Gripping it. “Okay,” You whispered. “That’s good.”

“Good?” Simon chuckled. “No not good.”

You gave him a confused look. “I’m ali…”

“You could have died y/n,” He mumbled, his hand shaking a bit before he snapped it out of yours. “Because I didn’ know what to fuckin’ do. You just kept bleedin’ and there was nothing I could do and-and-I panicked, I never…” His voice cracked, making your heart stop. Did you die? Did you have to be brought back?

“Simon.” You whispered reaching for his face to guide him to your eyes.

His eyes were glossy from tears brimming them. You started to tear up. “I’m sor’y,” He whispered. “You almost were gone an’ I don’t know what I would have done.”

You smiled weakly. “Yet here I am Si,” He leaned into your forehead laying it there. “I’m right here.”

Simon sighed and rubbed his hand through your hair. “You’re right here.”

Simon didn’t move from this spot until the radios went off to inform them that they would be an hour out. Simon will never let this happen again, until the day he fucking got taken from the grim reaper himself.

[lividstar]

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Six: A New Companion

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masterpost

៚ wc: 5k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ The tension mounts as you anxiously await a message from the directors. A call from Seonghwa bringing you the not-so-good news of you passing the first round of the casting brings mixed emotions, and a walk in the park offers a brief escape from your spiraling worries. Returning home, you find comfort in the unexpected presence of Pompidou, Monsieur Frank’s mischievous feline. As the day of the callback arrives, the pressure intensifies, culminating in a nerve-wracking evaluation before Hongjoong and the casting panel.

a/n: one of my classmates from my journalism class just asked me how i improve my literary skills and i blanked out because i couldn’t tell her i do it by writing fics :’) only our class’s photojournalist knows about it because she’s a close friend of mine

tags: @beabatiny

It’s been three days, and you’ve been on the edge of your seat for what feels like an eternity, always hoping for a callback notification. But that’s not the only thing that’s stressing you out—the sketchbook is another factor, too. Sure, you were hoping to make it past the first round, but if you did, that would only mean permanently being under the same workspace as the man who owns the sketchbook that you still don’t have the guts to return—not because you don’t want to but because you’re scared. And he wouldn’t be just a co-worker, no, he’s the creative director, meaning you’re not just under the same agency as him—instead, you’re under him.

You’ve been contemplating whether you should drop subtle questions here and there to Seonghwa in your conversation, asking if Hongjoong is currently going through a tough situation regarding his line of work, but that would be too obvious. It’s not that you were keeping your secret for the sake of saving your potential career—you wanted nothing more than to just shove it into Hongjoong’s arms and make a run for it, but the possible consequences kept outweighing your rationality. This was one of the many struggles of yours you can’t confide in someone about.

Today was no different. It was only early in the morning, but you were already pacing around your room, glancing back and forth at the sketchbook that was now laid on your bed. Each time you looked at it, your stomach twisted with anxiety, the constant thoughts swirling in your head at an even faster pace. What if Hongjoong finds out? What if he’s already suspicious? Every scenario played out in your head, from being publicly shamed to being blacklisted from the industry. The longer you thought about it, the more you felt the weight of the potential repercussions.

Would Hongjoong be understanding if you returned the sketchbook and explained the mix-up? Or would he think you were trying to steal his ideas? The stakes felt incredibly high, and it was a gamble you weren’t sure you were ready to take. Trust was hard to rebuild once broken, and you had just begun to establish a foothold in this new world.

You sat on your bed, picking up the sketchbook and flipping through its pages again. The designs were intricate, detailed, and undoubtedly brilliant. You admired Hongjoong's work, but that admiration was tainted by the anxiety of knowing you had something that didn’t belong to you. Just then, when you felt like your resolve was about to crumble completely, your phone that was on your desk started ringing. Anxious, you quickly walked toward it and saw that the caller was Seonghwa. You picked it up, trying to sound calm as you greeted him like you weren’t just nearly losing it seconds ago.

“Hello, Seonghwa,” you said, your voice slightly shaky—after all, he could be calling for any reason out there, even the ones outside of your mind.

“Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice came through the line, cheerful as always. Would he still sound the same, were he to ever find out? “I have some great news for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. "Really…? What is it?"

“You got a callback,” Seonghwa announced, a hint of pride in his tone. “The casting directors were really impressed with you.”

Relief and excitement washed over you, momentarily drowning out your worries about the sketchbook. “That’s… that’s amazing. Thank you so much for letting me know and for believing in me, Seonghwa.” You were happy, really. It’s just you didn’t have it in you to outwardly express it, especially considering your current situation.

“I knew you had it in you,” Seonghwa continued. “They’ll be sending you a message with all the details. Make sure you’re prepared, alright? This is a big step.”

“I will, thank you again, Seonghwa. I really appreciate all your support.”

“Of course,” he replied warmly. “I’m in full support of you. Just stay focused and do your best.”

You ended the call feeling a mix of elation and nerves. The callback was a huge opportunity, but it also meant your anxiety about Hongjoong and the sketchbook would be an ongoing issue. You had to figure out a way to handle it without jeopardizing everything you had worked for. A few minutes after the call, you received a message from an unknown contact and read it. It’s from the agency and its casting directors:

Congratulations on making it to the next round of callbacks for our upcoming show! We were thoroughly impressed with your performance during the initial casting, and we are excited to see more from you.

Here are the details:

1. Date and Time: Please arrive at our main office at 9:00 AM sharp on Friday this week.

2. Location: 8th Avenue, Paradigm Street.

3. Attire: Please wear simple, form-fitting clothing that allows us to see your figure clearly. Avoid excessive accessories or makeup.

4. Portfolio: Bring an updated portfolio with recent photos, including headshots and full-body images.

5. Preparation: Be ready for a photography session and possibly engage in a brief interview with our casting directors. We are looking for confidence, professionalism, and the ability to adapt to different styles and instructions.

We wish you the best of luck and look forward to seeing you soon.

After you finish reading it and taking mental notes of each requirement, you let yourself fall onto your bed on your back, looking up at the ceiling while groaning and burying your face in your hands. This was supposed to make you happy, but all you felt was nervousness. Could this really be treated as a win when it comes at the cost of a huge loss?

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was, as usual, in his office, accompanied by the presence of Wooyoung, who had been silently listening in on your phone call with Seonghwa while he was busy drawing little doodles on the notepad settled on top of Seonghwa’s desk. “Was that her?” Wooyoung asked, his voice eager.

Seonghwa nodded with a small smile on his face. “Yeah I’m really happy the casting directors saw the same potential I saw in her. I’m really proud. I genuinely think she’d be such a good fit in the industry. I’m sure she’ll be able to find her place despite the fact that she’s entirely foreign to the concept of fashion and modeling.”

Wooyoung nodded in agreement, hopping up to sit on Seonghwa’s desk. “I agree, but aren’t you a little worried, though? The industry isn’t exactly the kindest, especially to those who are new. It’s a rough world out there.”

Seonghwa sighed deeply, his expression turning serious. “Yeah, that’s true. I just hope she won’t get pushed into the negative side of the world of fashion. It’s inevitable, though, so I really just wish her the best. We can only hope she stays grounded and keeps her integrity intact.”

Wooyoung leaned back, folding his arms. “Speaking of which, don’t you think there’s something strange going on with Hongjoong lately? I mean, he’s still... Hongjoong, that’s for sure, but it’s like the army of dark clouds looming over him are slowly starting to disappear. He doesn’t bring up his sketchbook just as much anymore, and he doesn’t seem to be that stressed out over it. Has he found it yet?”

Seonghwa shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Your guess is as good as mine. The frustration’s still there, but it’s as if it had been tamed, somehow. He’s not that much of a douche during work hours anymore, so I guess that’s a good sign? He’s definitely been more tolerable recently.”

Just as Wooyoung was about to respond, the door to Seonghwa’s office swung open, and Hongjoong stepped inside, raising an eyebrow at the two men. “Are you talking about me?” he asked, his tone light but curious.

Wooyoung quickly shot back, “Yeah, what about it?” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, a blank expression on his face as he walked over to Seonghwa’s table and pinched Wooyoung’s ear. “Ow!” Wooyoung yelped, rubbing his ear with a pout.

“Just because you like being the talk of the town doesn’t mean it’s the same for other people,” Hongjoong said, letting go of Wooyoung and making his way to the couch in Seonghwa’s office. He flopped down, stretching out as if he owned the place.

“Je m’appelle ‘don’t give a shit,’” Wooyoung retorted, shrugging his shoulders defiantly at Hongjoong.

Seonghwa, trying to keep the peace, interjected. “Enough of that. What brings you here, Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong shrugged nonchalantly. “Something similar to why Wooyoung loves making himself at home on my office couch. You know, back pains and stuff.”

Seonghwa let out an exasperated sigh. “You two aren’t any different at all, are you?”

A comfortable silence settled over the room for a moment before Hongjoong broke it. “What, you don’t want to talk about me anymore now that I’m here?”

Wooyoung grinned, leaning back on the desk. “Oh, we’ve got plenty to say about you, Hongjoong. Don’t worry.”

Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sure you do, but maybe save some of it for when I’m not around to defend myself.” He reclined comfortably on Seonghwa’s couch, casually observing the room. He turned his attention to Seonghwa, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Hey, do you have a list of the models who got a callback? I’ve been so busy lately that I haven't had a chance to keep in touch with the casting directors.”

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, shuffling through some papers. “Unfortunately, there were only a handful of models the casting directors were interested in. Less than half, to be precise.”

Wooyoung, who had been lounging against the desk, interjected with a grin. “Wanna know what’s fortunate, though?”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “She got in. You know, the—”

“Really?” Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with genuine excitement, already knowing who Wooyoung was referring to. “That’s great news. I never doubted your keen eye, Seonghwa.” He shot Seonghwa a grateful look, as if it weren’t for Seonghwa spotting you at Rue de la Paix, you wouldn’t have even attended the casting.

Seonghwa smiled modestly. It was always nice hearing compliments from Hongjoong, as they never came along that often. “I knew she had potential the moment I saw her.”

Hongjoong nodded appreciatively. “The schedule’s set for Friday this week, right?”

Seonghwa confirmed with a nod. “Yes, Friday.”

Hongjoong’s smile broadened. “Can’t wait for the day to come.”

—

Two days later, you decided to take a walk to the local park, desperately needing a few moments to yourself for some fresh air. The schedule for the callback was now only two days away, and time felt like it was moving both fast and slow at the same time. The anticipation was nerve-wracking, and you couldn't shake the anxiety gnawing at your insides.

The situation with Hongjoong was still fresh in your mind. Like you’ve already told yourself countless times, it wasn’t like you wanted to keep the sketchbook a secret forever. You knew how important it must be for a creative director of a fashion brand. You just needed time to figure out how to sort things out without potentially harming your future career.

As you strolled through the park, you found a nearby bench and sat down, letting yourself get lost in the sunset. The sounds of the crowd around you blurred into the background, offering a momentary escape from your thoughts. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was your mom calling. You accepted the call, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” your mom’s voice was warm and comforting. “How have you been? I haven’t heard from you in a short while.”

You sighed softly, trying to keep your tone light. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy with what?” she asked, concern lacing her words. “You haven’t told me anything about the results of the initial casting yet.”

You took a deep breath and pursed your lips, deciding to share the good news. “I got a callback. It means I’m in for the second round of evaluation, which will be held this Friday.”

Your mom’s initial reaction was one of joy. “That’s wonderful, dear! I’m so proud of you!” But then she seemed to sense your hesitation. “You don’t sound too excited about it. What’s wrong?”

You brushed off her concern, not wanting to worry her. “It’s just been a long week.”

She paused for a moment, clearly wanting to press further, but then she relented. “Alright, just remember to take a break if you need one. You don’t have to push yourself too hard.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Take care of yourself. I’ve got to go now—the house chores won’t finish themselves.”

You ended the call and put the phone back in your pocket, letting out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding. As the sky started to darken, you decided it was time to head home. Standing up, you began walking back, lost in your thoughts. Just as fate would have it, as you were making your way home, you spotted Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and another friend of theirs—someone you had seen with the casting directors during the initial casting—on the other side of the street. Your eyes widened in panic.

Seonghwa seemed to notice you first, raising his hand to wave. Before he could get your attention, a bus passed by, and you used the opportunity to dart in the opposite direction, hoping to stay out of sight. Your heart pounded as you hurried away, not daring to look back. When the bus moved on, you were no longer on the other side of the street. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung stood there, puzzled.

“Where’d she go?” Wooyoung asked, glancing around.

Seonghwa shrugged, looking equally confused. “Beats me. She’s probably in a hurry.”

You continue running until you reach your apartment building, pausing to catch your breath before entering. Your heart is pounding, not just from the exertion, but from the adrenaline of your narrow escape. Once inside, you lean against the wall of the lobby, trying to steady your nerves and slow your racing thoughts.

As you approach your apartment, you are met with an unusual sight: Pompidou, the mischievous cat of a fellow tenant, Monsieur Frank, is lying peacefully in front of your door. It’s rare to see the usually rambunctious feline so calm. Cooing softly, you crouch down and slowly extend your hand towards Pompidou, ready to pull back if the cat resists. Much to your surprise, Pompidou looks up and begins nuzzling its head against your palm, purring contentedly.

“Hey there, Pompidou,” you say softly. “What brings you here today? Are you on an adventure? I hope you’re not planning on scratching my door again, or are you?” You scratch its head a few times, smiling at the unexpected affection, but your knees soon start to ache, reminding you that you need to head inside. Unlocking the door with your keys, you push it open, only to find Pompidou following you inside.

Worried that Frank might panic over his missing cat, you try to gently lead Pompidou back outside. “Come on, little guy, let’s get you back to Frank. He must be worried,” you say, but the cat has other plans and darts further into your apartment instead.

Chuckling, you shake your head and playfully call out, “Want to play a game of tag?” Even though you know the cat can’t understand, you chase it around the room with light-hearted enthusiasm.

“Pompidou, come back here! You’re going to make me late for... well, for worrying about everything,” you say, laughing amidst your frustration.

Eventually, Pompidou finds its way into your bedroom. As you laugh at the cat’s antics, your laughter abruptly stops when you see Pompidou circling Hongjoong’s sketchbook on your desk. You sigh softly, walking over to sit down on the chair in front of your desk, watching as Pompidou finally settles down beside the sketchbook. You gently caress its head and ask, “Why did your owner name you Pompidou?” The cat purrs in response, making you chuckle softly. “I’m not making fun of you. I’m just curious. Honestly, if anything, it suits you pretty well.”

“Why are you so mischievous?” you continue. “Always messing around with Madame Dupont’s garden and getting into trouble with all the other tenants. Do you like seeing them all flustered? I swear, every time I see Madame Dupont, she’s grumbling about you digging up her flowers. And last week, Monsieur Bernard was ranting about you knocking over his trash cans. You’re quite the troublemaker, aren’t you?” you say with a smile.

“Do you know how much trouble you’re causing, Pompidou? Just like me, it seems,” you say, shaking your head. “I’ve got this sketchbook here, and it belongs to a very important man. I didn’t mean to take it, but now… now I’m stuck.” The nerves from today’s encounter begin to creep up again as you confide in Pompidou about the whole situation with Hongjoong. “I want to give it back, I really do,” you continue, your voice dropping to a whisper. “But what if he’s angry? What if he thinks I stole it on purpose? My career could be over before it even starts.”

Just then, Pompidou gets off the desk and jumps into your lap, its paws kneading your chest back and forth. The gesture nearly brings tears to your eyes, and you look at the cat with a heartfelt gaze, continuing to caress its head. “You’re a sweet kitty, Pompidou. Do you think things will work out? Maybe I’m overthinking this,” you say, trying to reassure yourself. “Or maybe not. I don’t know anymore.”

Suddenly, you hear the faint sound of Frank calling out for Pompidou from the hallway. The cat’s ears twitch at the sound, and it looks up at you, seemingly understanding the call. “That’s your cue,” you say softly. “Time to head back to your owner.”

Standing up, you carry Pompidou in your arms. “Let’s go, little guy,” you whisper as you walk to the door. Opening it, you set the cat down on the hallway floor. “Stay out of trouble, okay?” you add, bidding it farewell and closing the door behind you.

Inside, the apartment feels a bit emptier without the mischievous cat, but you take a deep breath, trying to focus on the upcoming callback and the challenges ahead. Sitting back down at your desk, you look at the sketchbook and then at the empty room, a heavy sigh escaping your lips.

You wish things were simpler, but in reality, they’re anything but such.

—

You find yourself back in the waiting room, but this time, the atmosphere is different. The room is nearly empty, with only a few models left who, like you, have made it past the initial round. Clutching your new portfolio filled with the photos the casting directors requested, you sit down, anxiously glancing around the room and fiddling with your fingers. The anticipation in the air is palpable.

The evaluation starts, and models are called in one by one. With every name called and every person who leaves the room, your turn feels like it’s creeping closer. Your heart races, your palms sweaty, and you try to focus on steadying your breath. The fewer people left, the more your anxiety grows, until finally, the inevitable arrives, and your name is called.

You stand up, nerves bubbling in your stomach as you walk into the room. Facing a panel of casting directors, photographers, and the creative director, Hongjoong, you take a deep breath. Seonghwa is there, offering you a reassuring smile, and you notice the man they were with two days ago, now holding a camera. He seems to be one of their photographers.

“A pleasant morning to you,” one of the casting directors begins. “We’re glad to see you again. Let’s start by introducing ourselves.” Each panel member introduces themselves, and you discover that the man you saw with Seonghwa and Hongjoong two days ago is named Wooyoung.

“Thank you for having me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Please, show us your portfolio and tell us a bit about your journey,” another casting director instructs. You present your portfolio to the panel, accompanying it with a brief but passionate description of your aspirations.

“I grew up in a small foreign town, Arcadia Bay, far from the exquisite streets of Paris,” you begin, your voice wavering slightly but growing stronger as you continue. “Ever since I was young, I dreamt of something bigger—an adventure, a new life. Moving to Paris was my way of chasing that dream. I left everything behind, knowing that this city held the opportunities I was searching for.” You swallow, feeling the panel’s eyes on you, encouraging you to continue.

“I have no experience in modeling, but fashion and photography have always been one of the things I have a fond sense of admiration for. Then, one day, as I was walking down Rue de la Paix during my first week here, Seonghwa found me. It felt like a turning point—the moment I had been waiting for. Seonghwa saw something in me that I didn’t even see in myself, and he encouraged me to take a chance, to believe that I could be more.” The panel listens intently, and you notice a few nods of approval. Hongjoong’s eyes seem to light up with curiosity, and Seonghwa’s supportive smile reassures you.

“Your passion is evident,” says one of the casting directors. “It’s refreshing to hear someone speak so earnestly about their dreams.”

The casting team then takes simple Polaroid shots of you, capturing your natural, unedited state. The panel instructs you to pose for photos, and Wooyoung takes the lead, directing you with a professional yet friendly demeanor. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” Wooyoung says, positioning his camera. “Just relax and be yourself. Show us different sides of your personality.”

You follow his instructions, moving through a series of poses. You start with a confident, bold stance, then shift to a softer, more vulnerable look. You feel the tension in your body easing slightly as you focus on Wooyoung’s directions. “Great, now let’s try something that shows your inner strength,” Wooyoung suggests, encouraging you to channel the determination and resilience that brought you to Paris. You let out a genuine smile, thinking about how far you’ve come and the obstacles you've overcome. The room feels less intimidating with each click of the camera.

After the photo session, the panel provides immediate feedback. They exchange glances and murmur among themselves before addressing you. “Thank you for sharing your story,” one of the casting directors says. “We’re impressed with your passion and the natural talent you’ve shown today. It’s clear that you have a strong sense of self and an eagerness to learn and grow.”

Another casting director adds, “Your poses were confident and versatile, and you took direction well. It’s evident that you have potential, and we appreciate the sincerity you brought to this session.”

Hongjoong nods in agreement. “Your story is inspiring, and it’s always exciting to see someone with such raw talent and determination. We’ll be reviewing all the candidates and making our final decisions based on today’s performance, but I wanted to let you know that your dedication has not gone unnoticed.”

You nod, expressing your heartfelt gratitude to the panel for the opportunity. As you gather your things and prepare to leave, you can’t help but feel a whirlwind of emotions coursing through your body—relief from having successfully completed the evaluation, and anticipation mixed with lingering nerves about what the outcome might be. Your heart is pounding, echoing loudly in your ears as you stand up from the chair. You take a moment to steady yourself, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything. Carefully, you close your portfolio, securing it under your arm, and take a deep breath to calm your racing thoughts. The journey back to the waiting room feels like a blur, your mind replaying every moment of the evaluation, analyzing each word and gesture.

Entering the waiting room, you notice it’s even emptier than before. The models who finished their evaluations have left, and only a handful of others remain, either waiting their turn or gathering their belongings. You walk over to where you had been sitting, the spot now feeling strangely familiar and comforting after the intensity of the casting room. You quickly collect your bag, hands slightly trembling with the residual adrenaline. The weight of your belongings feels grounding, a tangible connection to reality amidst the haze of your thoughts. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you take one last look around the room, almost as if searching for some sign of reassurance or validation.

Pushing open the heavy doors of the building, you step out into the fresh air, the cool breeze hitting your face and providing a welcome contrast to the stuffy interior. The city noise greets you—honking cars, distant chatter, the rhythmic clatter of footsteps on the pavement—all grounding you further in the present moment. Just as you begin to descend the steps, a voice calls out your name from behind.

“Wait!”

Your immediate instinct is to ignore it, the adrenaline pushing you forward, wanting to escape the intensity of the day. Your steps quicken, the sound of your name echoing in your ears, mingling with the cacophony of the street. The voice persists, but you force yourself to focus on the path ahead, eyes fixed on the horizon as you make your way towards the sanctuary of your own space. The city feels like it’s rushing by, each step taking you further from the anxiety of the evaluation and closer to a place where you can breathe and reflect as the voice fades into the background.

On your way back home, your phone suddenly rings from inside your bag. You rummage through your belongings, pulling out your phone to see a message notification from Seonghwa.

Have you already left the building?

You quickly type out a response.

Yes, I have.

Why? Was it you calling me earlier?

A moment later, his reply comes through.

Earlier? No, I’m still here with the casting directors.

Did something happen?

Confusion settles in. If Seonghwa wasn’t the one calling you, then who was it? Not wanting to delve deeper into the mystery right now, you settle with a vague reply.

No, don’t worry about it.

After hitting the send button, you shut your phone and tuck it back into your bag, continuing your steps. As you reach your apartment building, you’re greeted by a familiar, pleasant surprise—Pompidou. The mischievous cat sits by the entrance, its bright eyes peering up at you. The street is bustling just a few steps away, making you worry for the little feline’s safety. You waste no time bending down to scoop him up, lightly scolding, “Pompidou, you can’t stay outside like this. It’s dangerous!”

Pompidou responds with a soft meow, and you can’t help but laugh lightly at its endearing nature. Setting it down once you’re inside the building, you begin walking toward your apartment. However, you stop in your tracks when you feel the light brush of a cat’s fur against your legs. Looking down, you see Pompidou trailing right behind you, its tail flicking playfully. Crossing your arms, you chuckle, “You’re not planning on lounging in my room and worrying your poor owner again, are you?”

Pompidou circles around your leg, his silent response making you sigh in playful defeat. “Alright, alright. Come on, then,” you say, allowing him to follow you.

Once you’re in front of your door, you unlock it and let it enter first, soon following after and shutting the door behind you. You slip off your shoes and set your bag down on the living room couch. Exhausted, you sit down, throwing your head back against the couch’s headrest, staring up at the ceiling as the weight of the day begins to settle on you.

Pompidou, never one to miss an opportunity for affection, climbs onto your lap, snapping you out of your thoughts. You begin patting its head, its purrs vibrating softly under your hand. “You know, little guy,” you start, your voice a quiet murmur in the stillness of your apartment. “Today was... something else.”

Pompidou’s eyes blink up at you, its soft gaze encouraging you to continue. “The callback was nerve-wracking. I presented my portfolio, and they took some photos. Wooyoung—turns out that’s the name of the guy I saw with Seonghwa and Hongjoong—he was one of the photographers. They gave me feedback, and... well, it’s all in their hands now.”

You pause, scratching behind Pompidou’s ears. “Honestly, I never imagined I’d be here, in Paris, doing this. It feels like just yesterday I was in Arcadia Bay, working at a diner while dreaming of a new life. Then Seonghwa found me at Rue de la Paix and changed everything. It feels like a turning point I’ve been waiting for my whole life.”

Pompidou shifts, its paws pressing against your leg as if to comfort you. You smile softly. “But it’s scary, too. What if I’m not good enough? What if I can’t handle the pressure? And then there’s Hongjoong’s sketchbook... I still haven’t figured out how to give it back to him. It’s like it’s a huge secret weighing me down.”

Pompidou nuzzles its head against your hand, its purring intensifying. You let out a small laugh. “You’re right, Pompidou. I shouldn’t let it consume me. One step at a time, right?” You continue to pet the feline, feeling a bit of the day’s tension melt away. “You’re such a good listener, you know that? Even if you don’t understand a word I’m saying and probably think I’m out of my mind.”

The cat’s eyes close in contentment, his purring a steady, soothing rhythm. “I wish I could be as carefree as you, Pompidou. Just wandering around, finding joy in the little things,” you begin, “but maybe that’s what I need to do—find joy in the small victories and not get too caught up in the what-ifs. Yet for me to be able to reach the highs, I need to survive the lows first. I just hope all of this will be worth it in time.”

🪞 — lividstar.

[sophierequests]

kaz brekker

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Angst: ☾ ┃ Fluff: ♡ ┃ Hurt/Comfort: ☆ ┃ Smut:  ♤

“A liar, a thief, and utterly without conscience. But he'll keep to any deal you strike with him.”

oneshots

while you're gone (☆) → The reader is away on a trip to Ravka and Kaz misses her for ‘no apparent reason’, causing him to behave differently. The Crows notice and try to play cupid, just in their own way. 

Maybe Matthias was right, he thought. What would someone like Y/N ever see in someone like him? The chances were higher that she already found a partner in the Ravkan court, than that she would ever reciprocate his feelings. 

the secrets that you keep (☆) → Kaz and the reader are acting as a pretend couple to get into a vault at a party. After getting locked in said vault, things get awkward and confessions ensue.

His expression did not help ease your stress. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes constantly flew from the now-closed door to your panic-struck face.

you always turn my head around (☾ / ☆) → Being best friends with a lovey-dovey couple is hard. Especially if your relationship has to be kept a secret and your partner isn't really too fond of touch. Can love be stronger than guilt?

It wasn’t easy to be with Kaz sometimes. Loving him was easy. Hiding said love was not. You knew that he tried his best to show the missed lacking physical affection through other ways.

in a decadent age i try to change (♡ / ☆) → Kaz watches the reader’s close relationship with Jesper and starts to feel guilty, causing him to distance himself from them. After his bad conscience almost costs them their life, he chooses to come clean. 

Unbeknownst to you, he did care. Quite a lot actually. It made him sick to his stomach, having to watch you getting touched by some dirty merchant, whilst he could barely muster the courage to link your pinkies.

untethered, i wash ashore (☾ / ☆) → Kaz is drowning again, but who is there to save him?

Water had killed Kaz Rietveld and birthed Kaz Brekker. And now it returned to take back what it created.

call me what you like (♡) → Kaz and the reader have been married for quite some years now, unbeknownst to their friends. But what if a slip up causes this shared secret to come to the surface?

This had worked surprisingly well. While you and Kaz spent way more time with each other, even trying to work on his touch aversion, your friends tried their best to get you together.

honeycakes and sweetened words (♡) → After a failed job, the reader decides to bake something to cheer the team up, not expecting anything in return. What if Kaz gives them the one thing they expected the least?

However, care wasn’t something of use in the Barrel. It slowed him down, so he did his best to push it down.

grateful you're mine (♡) → Kaz spends a completely ordinary evening with his partner, but wouldn't even dare to trade it for anything in the world.

When he reached the Slat he considered going inside - it’s where his room was, after all - but he quickly passed it. His home was somewhere - someone - else.

i eat boys like you for breakfast (♡) → After being captured by some of the Dime Lions, the reader is done taking anyone's shit.

As soon as Kaz had laid out his plan, you already predicted the many ways it could go wrong, but did he listen? Obviously not.

a glimpse of us (☾) → Years after the reader leaving him, Kaz still sees glimpses of her in everything he does.

But he didn’t. And you weren’t the girl that was with him now.

i crumble completely when you cry (☆) → After years of not seeing them, Kaz decides to find them again.

He had left you in his past a long time ago, and that is where you should have stayed. And that is where you would have stayed if he would have just thrown away all those damned letters.

a little crow and a lot of chaos (♡) → A little crow visits the Crow Club for the first time and chaos ensues.

 Many people couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the Barrel, however, seeing it through the eyes of a small boy, whose father wasn’t reluctant to tell stories about all the crazy heists his parents and their friends had completed here, made it easier for you to understand why your son was so excited to come back. 

liebe geht durch den magen (♡) → There seems to be someone mysteriously delivering food to Kaz's office when he least expects it, but who could be the culprit for this disgusting(ly sweet) act?

The two of you had some ‘unresolved romantic tension’, as Jesper would like to call it whenever he saw Kaz staring for a bit too long and caring just a little bit too much. But no, he didn’t have feelings for you.

i can't deny it any longer (♡) → An unlikely friendship gets revealed, and the Crows intend to make more of it.

“Don’t get me started.” You got him started. In fact, his rant almost took one hour, only allowing you to give some sparse comments in between.

five things you can see (☆) → Kaz comes to comfort the reader after a panic attack.

Kaz and you had an utterly different upbringing and quite the contrasting set of morals, however, that didn’t stifle the connection you began to establish. It had been a rocky path to get to the point where the two of you were now, but after being part of his life for the majority of his later teenage years and adulthood made one thing abundantly clear: You needed each other.

take my hand and don't let go (☾ / ☆ / ♡) → A job gone wrong forces the reader to do something she had tried to avoid: touching Kaz.

Your body hit the concrete ground with a firm thud, rendering you unable to move for a few moments after the impact. Everything around you was spinning, and you felt as if you had just lost the majority of your ability to hear, but staying on the ground wasn’t an option.

someone could lose a heart tonight (☾ / ☆ / ♡) → Kaz develops a crush on a Heartender!Reader, and thinks he's being good at hiding his feelings. Turns out, he really isn't.

This behaviour made you curious. His motions were uneasy - nervous. And Kaz Brekker was never nervous. And if he ever was, he wouldn't be inclined to display it this openly.

just deadweight (☾ / ☆) → Opposites attract, but they also make a damn good breeding ground for conflict and self-esteem issues.

So when it became obvious that the Bastard of the Barrel had developed feelings for someone that went against every single one of these traits, no one really seemed to be able to understand what exactly he saw in you. But oddly enough, the two of you worked. Somehow, everything between you made a stunning sort of sense.

hot chocolate (♡) → The reader convinces Kaz to drink a hot chocolate with them.

“The last time I had a cup of hot chocolate was when I was six. I burnt my tongue and promised myself to never drink one again. So I fear your threat won’t have much of an effect on me,” he replied dryly, pointedly ignoring the utterly shocked expression on your face.

right where you left me (♡) → Kaz sends the reader off to go travel with Inej, but didn't expect him missing them this much.

"You request I take Y/N with me when I leave for Ravka." He mentally shooed away the frown that threatened to crease his face. She was right, that was exactly what he wanted to ask her. But hearing her say the words out loud forced the vague idea to manifest into reality. And knowing that she could read him this easily deflated his ego quite a bit.

lose you all the same (☆ / ♡) → Three years after their break-up, the reader is forced to return to Ketterdam and old feelings resurface.

The Zemeni boy scrunched up his nose in dismay, a habit he had picked up from the merchling whenever he was apprehensive to do something. “They are back in Ketterdam.”

two-parters

fingers crossed pt. 1┃pt. 2 (☾ / ☆) → Hiding an injury from someone as meticulous as Kaz is never a good idea. But what if a hidden injury came to light managed to lead to a long-awaited confession?

He thought about the previous moments. The absolute instinct to feel her temperature. To touch her without his gloves. His protective shield. Why did he do this? Was this the reason for the panic he was in?

never to touch and never to keep pt. 1┃pt. 2 (☾ / ☆ / ♡) → Kaz Brekker doesn’t say goodbye, he just lets go. However, his friends won’t accept that.

He should’ve apologized. He should’ve followed you. He should’ve dropped everything to keep you in his life. He should’ve done something. But he didn’t.

set it up pt. 1┃pt. 2 (♡) → Wylan and Jesper are helplessly pining over each other, and everyone is starting to get sick of it. Especially Kaz and the reader seem to have suffered enough under their friends' behaviour. So of course, the only reasonable conclusion is to set them up.

“Think about it. I’m Wylan’s best friend, you’re Jesper’s best friend - don’t you dare deny it! Together we can get all the intel - all the important information on how they feel about each other. It’s perfect! We could set them up and they wouldn’t even notice our involvement.”

[alicerosejensen]

OK. I did it anyway! Finished the translation and tried as best he could. Part 3

I have a lot of debt, but I did it!

Good ending attached. If you like the bad ending of this story then please stop at 2 parts.

There's also a bit of angst here, a mention of smut.

I listened to a bunch of songs while writing this. In fact, there was a gigantic temptation to make Leon's girlfriend run away again, but I decided to fix the broken hearts of readers.

English is not my native language (I will write this as often as possible so that I don't get tomato thrown at me for mistakes). But I tried.

The text is quite large. I do not know if anyone has the strength to master it.

All efforts crumbled like a house of cards. All hopes that your relationship could still be saved were destroyed from the very day when you finally left, taking one suitcase with you.

For Leon, it was still an idiotic comedy that dragged on for a long time. He kept calling, texting, trying to talk to you about this misunderstanding. But you just cut him out of your life right away, without even giving him an attempt to explain everything.

But the comedy turned into a nightmare. Because Leon realized that you really left. A rather dirty game: to become the one who gave him peace and true love, and then in one second set fire to a small flowering island in his soul, leaving ashes behind.

Leon let you get too close to him. So close that he began to consider you his own. At some point, it even seemed to him that no one could love the way he loved you. But now you have turned the blue sky into black, discarding it as an unnecessary thing. Sometimes, stretching out his hand, lying on the bed, Leon woke up, thinking that since you are not around, then you are in the kitchen. You probably eat breakfast while looking at your phone.

But then he remembered.

You've gone. With tears, creating from his image a monster that hurt you throughout the relationship. You have done worse than Ada. It was a hundred times more painful. Leon knows it's crazy, but for just one night with you, he would give his life.

The only woman who has always been on his side. He wanted to feel the soft cotton of your gray T-shirt, but only your hands could be more gentle.

You have always been so pure that the world could be silenced by such innocence and angelic beauty. All the stars could go out if only something happened to you. You are a rare angel, in whose arms nothing hurts, who descended to him, to the last sinner, constantly fighting in an endless hell. Maybe someone decided that he received too much grace?

Leon would agree with that. But he's not ready to accept it. You said that you love him, despite the fact that he supposedly has feelings for Ada, and if he can convince you otherwise, then perhaps his beloved will return to him

But you didn't want to be in that cage. The whole situation with Leon, in your opinion, resembled the plot of Dolly Parton's song "Jolene", where Jolene is Ada Wong, whom you could beg not to take your lover. After all, as Jolene, Ada was the embodiment of an unearthly ideal. With a voice as soft as summer rain and with a smile like the breath of spring… Ha, you grinned remembering the words of the song.

What could you, a simple student, compare to this Ada-Jolene? Leon kept her compact in his bedside table and you still feel the reproach of envy that you will never become such a woman. You still cry when you think how many times he imagined an elusive mercenary in your place. But your happiness does not depend on Ada. You were able to find the strength to open the birdcage and run out to freedom, breathing in fresh air.

Leon used you. Crushed your heart into a piece of paper and threw it into the fire like the last scoundrel. But here you took out a burnt ember, intending to take care of it and already now you see that the first sprouts of trust in other men break into the light. However, love is not knocking at your door yet.

Because there is one huge problem: no matter how much pain Leon caused you, you want to leave him in your memories. Salty rivers of tears flow down your eyes almost every night, forcing you to curl up in the fetal position with your hands pressed to your chest when you read his messages. These are such ruthless blows that literally destroyed your soul. He's already traumatized you enough, so why doesn't he stop it already?!

The whole body and soul are screaming: help me! And the mind doesn't want to forget his fucking name and touch. You can't go back to Leon Scott Kennedy because he will bring nothing but evil. Say to yourself and remember forever: goodbye, my love for this man, because my heart can no longer bear this sick love.

You met in the spring and broke up in the spring. How much joy and sadness this time of year has brought you!

How much pain there is in the world, and all because of fucking love.

But for Leon it was completely different.

It was the middle of the day, when the sun was still high in the sky, promising to illuminate the streets with its light for at least another three or four hours. Late autumn time, Leon didn't want to get out of his mostly, alcohol-smelling apartment, but he had to write a report and hand it over to Hannigan, despite the overdue deadlines. To gather his thoughts a little for an answer, Leon went into a nice cafe, hiding from the strong wind, hoping that in addition to all kinds of desserts, he could order coffee to take away.

Ordinary strong coffee without sugar and hopes that it will not taste like bile.

The arrival of a new visitor was announced by a ringing bell, to the ringing of which the waiter immediately raised his head from his business. Leon was not going to linger, he walked past the tables with a few visitors until the familiar smell of women's perfume hit his nose.

And stopped.

He forgot about everything: Hannigan, the report, his job. About everything that brought him pain from your departure, because right now you were sitting with your back to him in a warm beige dress, holding a glass with some kind of drink with one hand and writing something in your notebook with the other pen, completely ignoring anyone.

All Leon wanted at this very second was to grab you in his arms and never let you go again.

How did this even happen? Why did you, loving him dearly, renounce him in an instant?

And yet your mere presence lifts him from the thorn-strewn earth. Only a meter separated you from each other, but Leon is already burning to the ground. It didn't matter if you were an angel or a demon, you were his love. His restless bird that flew away from him because it could. Because you believed he could still love another woman.

You look like two fools, each of whom believes in his own truth.

You were so serene, calm and nondescript to others. Strawberry ice cream almost melted from lack of your attention or you just didn't find it tasty enough to finish. Leon completely forgot why he came to this cafe. Illuminated by the evening sunlight, you looked like a work of art that you were so fond of.

A slight smile, careless strokes of a strange drawing in a notebook…you looked tired and a little thinner, but for him you remained the most beautiful. Aesthetic - Leon remembers that you like this word.

Did he have the right to disturb you? Like a mirage, Leon didn't want to scare away the one he loved because he knew if he touched you now, you would disappear again. Messages, calls - there were many of them and not one received a response.

If his love really brought you so much suffering, do you need it? Is he really that selfish? But now you tensed up, feeling someone else's gaze on your back, and as if small droplets of crystals began to beat anxiously against each other like wind music warning about who you are desperately trying to get out of your head.

But there was no soulful cry of "run."

You knew he was there. Behind. The heart did not stop with horror - it trembled with excitement. God, don't turn around! So much was lost because of Leon: dreams, hopes, trust, heart…

The palette of the endless emptiness of weekdays turned into slightly brighter colors.

Leon touched your shoulder and you shuddered lifting your head up. It was impossible to ignore this meeting and there was nowhere else to run. His touch was so welcome. The body responded to him by itself, trying to cling closer to feel the forgotten warmth. It was so good.

Suddenly you felt like a drug addict who received a long-awaited dose of the drug.

The purest buzz.

You still didn't say anything, just stared into those diamond eyes, completely losing yourself. By looking at it, you can experience all kinds of death. You wanted to finally surrender to him, submit and accept the inevitable, and then fall asleep in a tight embrace - all for the sake of the illusory hope of not being number 2.

What idiot said that time heals? There wasn't a night or a day when you didn't think about him.

You want to tell everyone to go to hell, and yourself first, because you're the last fool. A proud fool who can't live without him. Damn pride. Leon took a step forward, swallowing loudly, grabbing your shoulder with his other hand, but it didn't hurt. He looked at you as if he was afraid that you would melt into thin air.

You love each other very much, and each of you thinks that one of you does not love the other.

In an instant, everything collapsed in November. Leon knelt down, still squeezing your shoulders. Curse this month. He pressed you to him and you buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the smell of a leather jacket and barely perceptible cologne. The stubble scratched the skin unpleasantly, but now these sensations were so pleasant.

If Leon doesn't disappear right now, it's going to be the worst month on the calendar. An unhappy month that will leave another stab wound. Your first true love and not a stupid infatuation…Whatever Carey says, it's impossible to forget Leon. There is no longer the strength to drown in it, grasping at a thin thread of feeling.

"Let's talk" - you're definitely a drug addict. His voice was like heroin causing euphoria. Rough and stringy at the same time. The infernal rejection started from him again.

The waiter's voice sounded like a soft soprano, and Leon reluctantly pulled away from you, but did not let go, as if he was afraid that you would jump up from your seat and run away, grabbing your coat. The lungs let out a heavy sigh, but you didn't want to talk to him. It was as if you were afraid that he would have words that would make you return to this anarchy of abnormal relationships. When he loves one woman and sleeps with a completely different one.

"I don't want to, go away," - you whispered, pushing him away with your palm. It was a terrible gesture. But you endured for a long time, accepting his lies, running after him like an obedient dog.

Love is not when it hurts you. And he mocks you and jokes, building those puppy dog eyes. He pretends that this separation is also hard for him. As if he wasn't a soulless being who took advantage of the trust of a girl in love with him.

But the idiotic heart keeps shouting to him, "Love me for a long, long time!" and Leon seems to hear him.

Leon grins, feeling butterflies flutter in his stomach. How many bridges can you burn?

But he strokes your head, runs his fingers through your hair.

"We'll just talk. Please stop ignoring me!"

"Stop foaming at the mouth to prove to me that the mysterious spy in red does not live in your head."

Keep your finger on the pulse and run. After paying for lunch, you grabbed your coat and walked briskly to the exit. And only when Leon caught up with you on the street, trying to stop you by grabbing your wrist, you turned into a scorpion who tried to escape using all his poison.

It's the same thing again.

"You're the worst thing that's ever happened in my life!"- that's what you finally shouted out to him along with all the other shit, but it was this phrase that killed him completely. The gaze seemed to read information from your face, as if checking it for truthfulness. The fucking detector gave out the truth.

"Someone like you never knew what love was. You know what's funny? To Ada Wong, you're just a puppet. A toy that she can play with whenever she wants, and then put it on the shelf and forget." - You poured out your burning poison, turning words into caustic acid to kill him once and for all, despite your tear-stained face. - "That's enough! I will never forgive you! Run after your elusive spy and leave me alone. I deserve to be happy. I'm already broken inside by your fucking love!"

It wasn't fair. You just tore him apart with those words. He's never even half loved you, he's never compared you to anyone! But nothing will bring you back to him. You will no longer illuminate his pitch darkness with your light. Leon really felt like a bastard who trampled on someone who loved him.

He stood there, looking after you, listening to your hysterical sobs, while you ran away again to lick the wounds inflicted. It seemed like you were about to fall to the ground and die from all this pain. All those months that you have not seen him, in no way helped you to stop loving this man. Because things have only gotten worse.

You wanted to lie down and die. Everything you were rebuilding exploded again, turning you into ruins. Ada Wong would never have allowed herself to do that. But the pain you felt became physical. Your head is spinning, the world has become so crazy and alien, sickeningly disgusting, because all the protective mechanisms of orgasm just fail you after all the continuous work. You just screamed from all the injustice that happened to you, and the name of this injustice was Leon S.Kennedy. The fucking bastard who caused you to fall into the mud, acting like an escaped lunatic.

"I hate you," - Leon heard it. The most terrible thing is that he realized that he was destroying you. Your body was experiencing physical pain - spasms, and you already needed professional help. And yet he cradled you like a baby in his arms until you fainted.

One thing you didn't have time to say: despite the fact that you were burning alive, your stupid little heart continues to seek salvation in Leon. It hurts her, but she calls him for help, begging for caring kisses and warm hugs.

What does it feel like to be a girl with a sensitive heart and a brave soul? The moment you discovered that he still loves Ada made you split into many pieces. Lying in a hospital bed, taking medications whose names you don't remember, you heard your mother's muffled crying and fell asleep under it, pulling the blanket over your shoulders, as if under a white noise. Your father stroked your head as if you were a child, slightly dulling the pain that was pounding in your chest.

"You will be sad and forget" - that's what your mother told you when she found out that the cause of the disease was a man. "You won't even remember that you once loved him there."

But you didn't want to forget him. You're so tired of falling asleep thinking about him… because even when you close your eyes like a phantom, you continue to see him. How can you live with this poison in your soul? Leon poisoned you and didn't even send you flowers, considering that he got you into the hospital because of him. And yet part of you was waiting for him to come.

Leon didn't come.

Nervous breakdown on the background of constant stress. Friends also came to find out about your well-being, but only Carey stayed for a long time, trying to pull you out of oblivion, which the brain could not cope with.

She didn't say a word about Leon, fearing that any mention of him would provoke a violent reaction again. Everyone kept saying that everything would be fine and you'd be coming home soon. Did you really feel a little better, but did you feel depressed just thinking about what would happen next? Your beloved friend disappeared as you wanted.

It is in vain to grieve about a failed relationship that was still beautiful, despite the subsequent horror.

"It was wonderful. Goodbye, Leon," you said to yourself when you found a little strength to admit that he is not a monster at all. Time is fleeting, and nothing lasts forever, and you are also unlucky to find happiness in this man.

Drive all thoughts of him away and remember that you are no longer the two of you. Find the strength to learn to live without him and suppressed the passionate feeling of rushing to him under the door banging on it with his fists.

Burn this brand on yourself.

In fact, even in the void can be cozy. When the day of discharge came, your father insisted that you come home again and recover a little from the experience. But you knew that if you came home, you would never erase Leon from your memory. If there was a record with his name on it, you would have listened to it until I broke it.

It's like you've been living in a dark paradise now. There are no medications for memory, but the ones that you started taking clearly muffle all feelings, allowing you to focus on studying. It was quiet and cold in this dark paradise because Leon wasn't there, but you still remembered how your pain-filled body fell to the floor. And yet there was one significant plus that allowed you to live - it was peaceful in this paradise.

And yet, as if you were a lost thing on the shelf, it did not leave you.

November is a really disgusting month. The whole world seemed to be turned upside down. There was the usual calmness with the absence of something important.

But then stability came.

You and Leon don't talk anymore. Apparently, what was said greatly influenced him, but the flowers in your soul still do not bloom. His love for you is still breathing and part of him knows that you love him, but he will prefer to give you a chance to forget him and all the memories associated with him, given how he hurt your soul.

He would like to stay in your life, but not after what he did.

Therefore, he was content with what was left to him. Polaroids from your vacation with him and memories…and some things that you forgot at his place. Meaningless little things, but he kept them. Everyone focused on their lives. You were riding with friends on a bike, exposing your face to the wind, hugging a friend. Leon is back from his work. And everyone missed the other.

But there is no desire to fall into this abyss anymore. Then it was time for healing, it seemed that the impossible was happening, but fate desperately liked to bring your roads together.

Your face is a real masterpiece against the background of daubs. Among the hundreds, Leon noticed you with your bestia when you were choosing some kind of gift, he looked at you from afar.

The cradle of his suffering… Leon feels like he is filled with love for you again, watching you laugh merrily after recovering from all the wounds that he inflicted on you. So cheerful… he had no right to be with you. With the people he values, something happens all the time, but this time he himself is the one who repeatedly stabbed in the back.

You never blamed Ada for your failure, only him, and it was deserved, because until the moment of your loss, Leon still found these meetings… more personal and intimate even if sex between them has not been for a long time. Just something else attracted him, but he would never let ordinary attraction destroy what he really loves.

However, that's exactly what he did. A stupid compact left somewhere in the corner of the bedside table, which he still had from China… you made the wrong conclusions by backing them up with that inappropriate message on his phone and it was still enough to leave him forever. But now you were laughing and it warmed Leon, how he wants to hear this sound again at home, along with numerous words of tenderness.

It was not worth looking at you for so long because some force pulling each other forced you to find this gaze from which you can die and rise again. Everything beautiful has remained very far away. None of you will say a simple "hello" to the other, and yet why are you silent like fools?

Thanks to the pills, all the senses were dulled a little, allowing a stupid thought to slip into your head - to talk to him.

The doctor prescribed you treatment: medications, rest and moderate physical activity, and somewhere between the lines he wrote in invisible ink "no Leon Kennedy." And you're drowning in this swamp again, violating all the doctor's orders. It doesn't hurt yet, but it's already scary to exhale if you stumble, fall into the water and have to start over.

These silent glances with each other… everyone is afraid to take an extra step, because everything can collapse. Leon doesn't want to be the cause of your tears, he's already brought enough shit to a dear person. Everything beautiful has remained very far away. None of you will say a simple "hello" to the other, and yet why are you silent like fools?

Thanks to the pills, all my senses were dulled a little, allowing a stupid thought to slip into my head - to talk to him. You said a lot to him that day, a lot of things he didn't really deserve, trapping him.

But only now are you wondering: did you notice any moments correctly or did you come up with a reason for leaving? After all, sometimes you could catch the scent of someone else's perfume on his clothes and still believe that there is only him and you. Maybe Ada marked it on purpose so that you could figure out who it really belongs to? What if it was her subtle sign for you?

"Stay away from my territory"

But there was another truth. Your bestie got distracted looking at some jewelry in the window when you watched Leon leave. Have you ever wondered who is a masochist God or is it you? It looks like it was you, because no god forced you to follow him. And Leon felt this persecution, which made him turn around when he saw your indecisive face.

You yourself took a step towards him, and the heart itself began to revive after a long hibernation. The truth is, you had no idea what to say.

It was you who wiped away his tears when he was in too much pain.

It was you who banished all his fears when he woke up in the middle of the night.

You were holding his hand. Not Ada.

"I'm sorry…" You nodded for some reason. - "I'm not… princess… this is a chance meeting. I didn't want to bother you, so you wouldn't think about me.

"I know." - Leon barely heard what you said to him, looking away from his eyes. "I'm sorry for what I said to you then.

"What?" - his reaction made your lips smile with a kind smile that he could not forget. Leon seemed really discouraged, but you just turned around to look at Carey to make sure she wouldn't go crazy when she saw who you were talking to. Definitely, it's all because of the pills.

"I said you were the worst thing that happened in my life, but that's not true. In fact, I only told you a lot because I wanted you to be as hurt as I was. However, I shouldn't have done that. You're a good man. I behaved terribly, like a naughty child."

Leon couldn't understand what had just happened to him. His pupils seemed to widen at the impossible words and your ridiculous apologies. After all, if anyone should be apologizing, it's him, because he drove you to a nervous breakdown. He shook his head, just in case checking to see if you were a figment of his imagination, but you were still standing there. Right in front of him. Was what was happening a prank?

Maybe it's karma?

"You don't have to apologize" - all Leon could squeeze out of himself and you just shrugged your shoulder for a long time without answering anything.

"I apologize for saying too much. It's my fault that I ended up in the hospital, not yours. But I'm not apologizing for that…" Ada's name stuck in throat.

"For leaving?" - Leon grinned when you silently agreed with him. - "At least you had the right to. I don't want to hurt you anymore. You've had enough of me already. "

He wanted to touch you. Just to touch your cheek or hand one last time. He didn't want to let you go, but he knew he couldn't keep around if you didn't want to. Leon snorts, trying to shake off this desire. What kind of kisses can we talk about if you don't love him? All hopes for at least some stability in his life burst like a balloon, and Leon himself held the needle in his hands.

"Thank you for your wonderful attitude!" - You shoot him again, saying these words, and Leon recoils from the one he was so eager to see. - "Even if we didn't succeed, I'm still grateful to you. The last few months have been difficult, but it's my own fault. You didn't promise me anything… I've had time to think. With this Ada, everything is much more complicated and longer for you than with me, and I probably didn't want to admit it to myself. I put on pink glasses and didn't want to see anything but pink shades. You didn't need my heart, and you told me about it at the very beginning, but that's how young she is…" - You laughed nervously, feeling that the effect of the pills seems to be starting to evaporate. - Someone has watched too many movies about love. Forgive me for these tantrums if you can."

Carey screamed loudly and you both turned around at her exclamation when she pulled you by the hand trying to take you away from this man. It even amused you a little, but something still pleased your poor soul more - you were able to admit to yourself that your fault was present in this breakup. Not just Leon.

Leon didn't have time to say a word, but it was in vain for him to be sad. You have forgiven him and yourself. It was the most important event that finally brought a bit of long-awaited relief.

There was only one thing you didn't want to understand, either the brain was using a dirty autosuggestion technique, or it was the pills that dorktor prescribed for you. but the point is this:

Kennedy needed your heart. He needed your love, because everything he had, he had already given to you.

He should have apologized, not you. He wanted to come to the hospital to pick you up, but changed his mind at the last moment, fearing that his presence would complicate the situation. And yet Leon followed you to the exit when Carey shouted at him not to dare approach.

It seems that this is the reason for your separation . The one who hammered into you the idiotic idea that you were his "meat for fucking".

But you are no longer running away from him, however, is it really necessary to break into an already destroyed world again, where he destroyed everything. Leon no longer leaves messages, does not call and does not look for a meeting, and you also began to live quietly feeling only constant fatigue and unwillingness to do anything. And it didn't work out with the guys, there were friends, but it didn't go beyond fun gatherings, even if they tried to flirt.

Looks like your heart still belongs to Leon. For him, it's probably a souvenir, and you have a hole in your chest.

Do you remember that bar where we met for the first time? Now, sitting at the same table, you're looking at the place where Leon was with some damn expensive bottle of whiskey. Without thinking about anything. You straightened your legs and just indulged in sweet memories that no longer caused any harm. It's a little sad, but you're still too young to be disappointed in yourself.

Previously, there was some kind of vigorous cocktail of disappointment, hatred, sadness and contempt inside, but now there is absolutely nothing. It's like you finally got a sobering slap in the face, returning to your former state and admitting that suffering is shit.

Was there any point in talking to Leon? He's probably already broken up with his feeble-minded girlfriend and now he's either found another one or is chasing Ada-their favorite cat-and-mouse game. Of course, he really has some part of your cosmetics left in his apartment, a favorite mug, maybe something else… oh! a notebook. What a stupid thing, because there was nothing important in this notebook except funny drawings and a list of products. Well, maybe something else in small things. Leon probably threw everything away a long time ago.

Although you would like to return the mug.

The mug that he gave you with an idiotic inscription.

You unlocked your phone and saw some excited messages from your father. After quickly answering them, you clicked on Leon's number. Just one click separated you. You could have texted or called, but you spat and just put the phone back in your pocket. It would be necessary to delete his number.

And he still has your damn expensive perfume. It is not like the one used by Ada Wong - her fragrance is dominated by fresh citrus notes combined with something cold. A grenade? You liked calmer floral scents. Lilac and gooseberry have a good aroma.

And you would have torn it off with your own hands. Because the bottle cost a lot of money, and was in a limited collection. For some reason, now you remember him and it became so insulting that you lost such an expensive thing (even if Kennedy bought it for you again). But it's still a damn stupid reason to look for a meeting with him!

In general, you should have been kicked out of his head too. Leon kept your things close on purpose but didn't touch them. One part of him hoped that you would remember them and come to pick them up, and the other party was afraid that then he would have nothing left. The last memories will be gone. He loved flipping through your notebook, finding funny the drawings you made while you were sitting at boring lectures.

He doesn't care, he knows that you liked this perfume, and he also knows that you can't afford such a luxury right now. It's a shitty act to look for a meeting with you again when all the dots are already set.

Even though he wants to see you, can he really let you go later?

However… he wants to write to you. Fingers are already typing a message when an alert with your number and a short phrase appears in front of the screen: Can I pick up some things?

Holy shit! YES!

Leon answered immediately. The usual "yes" despite the fact that everything inside was screaming. A couple of minutes later, another message came asking when you could do it and he wanted to answer in a sarcastic manner, what exactly is for you at any convenient time.

But the line came out the usual "when you want, then take it." Maybe it was a little rude.

Nothing else followed. Leon had no idea when to expect you. Apartment was in terrible condition. In addition, there was your wilted cactus on the computer table. Cactus. Wilted. Maybe because his hostess collected all the belongings and left forgetting him?

Leon didn't know how to take care of him at all. Just poured half-drunk water into a small flower pot, and that's it. The flower that grew on it has long disappeared, and the cactus itself has turned yellow. He turned the pot over in his hand, looking at it from all sides, wondering if it could be fixed somehow in a short time, but decided that if it really upset you, he would buy exactly the same one.

At least to make it up to you a little.

After about an hour of thinking, there was a quiet knock on the door. Leon, casting a cursory glance once again at the unfortunate cactus, let you into the apartment pretty quickly, but you stood there for a few more seconds as if you were afraid to enter the lion's den, which would certainly bite off your head if he crossed the threshold of the apartment.

"Hey," - Your hand waved nervously in the air as a greeting when you were here again, afraid of being captured by your own memories.

Leon only apologized for the mess (although he managed to clean up some things while you were just standing outside the door for about 30 minutes, gaining strength to knock) and offered you tea, knowing how much you love him. A great opportunity to find out what happened to your favorite mug, but you refused first of all by casting a glance at the withered plant.

"I watered him from time to time." He hesitated, scratching his head with his hand. - "Maybe he needed fertilizer, but I didn't know anything about it, especially since it's a cactus!.. Okay sweetheart, just let me buy you a new one or something.

Your laughter slightly diluted the gloomy atmosphere, and Leon clearly felt better.

"It's all right." - A small pot appeared in your hands with the intention of taking it and then throwing it away. - "To be honest, this guy has been sick for a long time. Eventually, he still fell to the death of the brave."

You smiled wearily, making some kind of hero out of a cactus, and your ex-boyfriend also picked up the cheerful mood, lowering his head as he leaned back against the bar, watching his angel take the last thing he had left from this relationship.

Leon compares this to the fact that you gave him the strongest and most beautiful wings when you agreed to be with him. Something truly pure and bright, which allowed him to fight with bioweapons, only for the sake of you and your kind. And now with relentless cruelty you are tearing these wings along with the spine. As the most severe punishment for a mistake.

You silently gather your things, trying not to let your hands shake as Leon watches your actions, fighting the urge to try to stop you again.

Inside, it feels like a guitar string is breaking or sad chords are playing in the soul. One sentence: All gone. You will be left behind, like another experienced chapter of his life, but the fact that the pages of this chapter were full of sincere joy only makes it worse.

Leon's eyes are on the lookout for anything that might help you change your mind. Turn the pages of the book of life a little back and rewrite the plot, correcting this misunderstanding. Although luck is not on his side again.

How to regain lost trust?

It was hardly possible. He could show you those messages from Ada, try to prove that the powder box has been in the trash for a long time, but would you believe him?

He called you by your name as you put the rest of your cosmetics in your bag, thinking that Leon didn't have anything particularly important from your things left. Of course, you turned around meeting with those eyes in which if you look for a long time you can drown, but now only Leon was choking of the two.

"You said then that I didn't promise you anything. it was true, I didn't really make any promises. No vows that I want a family, children and everything else that normal people have, since my work does not imply their presence." - Leon moved to a safe distance so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable. Unlike you, even when under stress, he was well oriented and adjusted to the situation, because your eyes were already watering. - "I don’t understand at all what you saw in me that you fell in love with so much, but it was not non-reciprocal. Maybe I didn't say much, but I meant it. These gifts, trips, dinners in restaurants..."

"In your words, I became like a gold digger who managed to find a rich fool." - You interrupted him with a loud squelching nose.

"What?... oh no! Fuck... I didn't mean it. I just know I screwed up. I have a whole carload of problems that I didn't want and don't want to involve you in. Ada - is in this carload . You are right, a lot connects me with her and the story is very long, but believe me, this is not at all what I really want. When I was 21, it was damn interesting. I was attracted to her for many years until that outbreak in Lanshiang. I won’t lie, we met not only on missions, but also after them; Ada has repeatedly saved and helped me; I will not lie and say that I have never had sex with her, but! There is a huge difference between the usual attraction to each other and really sincere feelings. And you were never fucking meat to me!" - Leon raised his voice, but not to hurt you. These crystal blue eyes resembling ice, no matter how paradoxical it may sound, could melt the heart of anyone. He was the one who could turn you into a puddle in seconds. - "From the moment you agreed to be with me, I had no relationship with Ada other than working. Even in my thoughts. We have our own style of communication - it's true. Flirting and banter, but when you showed up…I didn't need anything else."

"Nevertheless, you have loved her for more than ten years. It's not an attachment anymore, Leon. It's weird that I have to explain this to you." - There was no longer that stone in your chest that prevented you from speaking. You felt like a kind of abbess who reveals the truth to the boy standing in front of you (who was much older). - "We managed to get into all this dirt like this…"

"Was our relationship dirt for you?" - You looked up at him. You could clearly see the experience, pain and sadness. As if what happened broke him completely. Leon frowned, waiting for your long answer. - "I haven't always been open with you, and yes, you deserve a younger guy. Someone from your college or just a nice man your age. But you really were the best episode in my life, despite the fact that things weren't always smooth between us."

"It's not about me" - The lip gloss that you were restlessly twisting in your hands all this time finally fell out, rolling to Leon's feet, as if it was a sign to finally approach him, but you were afraid of getting burned again.- "Understand me… I want to be loved. For real. I'm not a fool either, although you probably think I am…"

"I never thought that about you. Naive, careless - yes. But you always had enough brains."

"Women like Ada Wong… -" you kept trying to ignore Leon's gaze. - "You can't get them out of your head. A kind of fatal beauty, capable of hitting any man to death. Such women have no rivals, and you do not consider it an insult, but she chose you, which means that you belong to her forever. However, you don't mind, do you? If I were you, I wouldn't be able to resist her either."

"Yes… - Leon smiled very unpleasantly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, throwing you your lip gloss, which you managed to catch and throw into a gym bag. - "Manipulation; constant concealment of information; a rather specific concept of "relationship". We've been lovers for a long time-I won't deny it, besides, it doesn't make sense. But I'm telling you the truth: you've become everything to me. As I could, I showed my love and care. Trust me, sweetheart , when you get into the same shit year after year, not knowing if you'll live to see the next day… well, it's a bit tedious. With Ada BEFORE YOU, I had some stability. The stability of our crazy meetings, yes, I had feelings. Until I realized that all this is fucking nonsense and it's not love at all, but an ordinary attachment to a person I've known for many years. And it was never love."

"More than ten years…" - Leon shook his head when you said those words one by one, slowly, as if savoring each. - "If you wanted to stop everything, you would stop it, but she is really a part of you that you will never let go. She occupies a big place in your heart, and I don't want to sit on the bench at all, so that during your next break you come to me. Don't you think it's unfair to me and my feelings?"

You trembled. The nerves began to give up again and the fingertips began to go numb, covered with a sticky cold sweat. Trying to listen to your own feeling, you only heard the frantic beating of your heart and the blood pounding in your ears. In some ways, it resembled a pre-fainting state. Part of you knew that Leon wouldn't do anything wrong, and the other part was terrified of the conversation going on.

You urgently needed to grab something to distract yourself. But most of the things were already in the bag.

On the other hand, it was hard to tell what Leon was thinking. His eyes focused on one point-you. A mixture of misunderstanding, irritation and bitterness in one bottle. He got the feeling that you were trying to convince him to believe your own lies, because during the time that you were together, Leon never gave a reason to think that there was someone third in his life.

But you felt something that you wanted to tell him against your better judgment for a long time. This is what you started falling asleep with when you first started suspecting him of cheating, despite the fact that it was very stupid.

"I thought my love was enough for you and me. I was ready to forgive you for the first mistake, Leon. I thought I could be irreplaceable for you, but now I realize that I'm not her equal."

"God, can you hear yourself?" - Leon ran his hand through his hair pulling it back, sincerely tired of explaining the same thing to you. As if you really were…blunt.

However, he didn't need to tell you, you yourself understood what he was thinking. And yes, it was stupid to come here again. You're really dumb.

"The conversation reached a dead end." - you continued to collect the rest of the things, once again capitulating to him.

"You're leading him to a dead end!" - Leon jumped up from his seat, shouting loudly at the top of his voice. You recoiled to the side, away from his formidable figure, next to which your own seemed very tiny. Your subconscious was still saying "don't be afraid," but your instincts were afraid of any violence. He could scream, he could hit… Leon never did this, it was the lowest act for him to hit another (unless circumstances require it), and disputes were generally resolved by ordinary conversation. You knew he could raise his voice, but Leon chose to leave before he reached boiling point. - "What else do I have to tell you to make you believe me?"

Your heart sank. But stand still. The commanding tone of the inner voice told you to resist, and apparently the small iron makings of your father's character were passed on to you. As a last resort, you quickly glanced towards the door, holding a bag in your hands, figuring out a plan in case of escape, and Leon noticed your strange behavior. Disappointed once again. In myself or maybe already in you? Do you really think he's such a monster?

"Why the fuck are you shaking so much?" - It wasn't funny anymore. Leon snatched the bag and threw it with all his might into a corner, not caring about the fragile contents. - "One big quarrel and I became the son of a bitch who beat you up or what? I'm not an angel, and with all my adoration, you're not a gift either! But did I hurt you at least once?!

"Yes!" - In a fit of emotion, you screamed, closing the distance with one big step. Leon chuckled. He meant physical pain, not mental pain. - "You hurt me. And it's still hard for me to live with this wound. I screwed up too. You know, I'm not the only loser here! And this is not a quarrel! You're a fucking jerk who still can't figure out his feelings. You didn't promise me shit, and it's my mistake that I came up with a big love for you ! But no one who has a conscience and respect for a partner will keep a compact of an ex-girlfriend and correspond with her in a joking manner. For some reason, my father does not allow himself to do this. No truly loving man will ever allow himself to do this! And instead of at least admitting the obvious, you convince me of something else! Tell me, Leon, if I did this to you, would you want to keep talking? Would you be able to trust me? "

"This shit has been lying there for a fucking cloud of time. I've already forgotten about her!"

Now both of you have switched to raised tones. You weren't scared anymore. The anger inside you was growing, erasing absolutely all the feelings that had been blunted before. Now you wanted to be fucking rude to him again, and that's probably what he liked about you. Leon even suspected that you would flare up like a match and be able to hit him.

"Forgot about the messages too?!"

"Fuck..." - It was unbearable to fight with you. Like a stubborn sheep who believed a stupid fool - his damn friend Carey. Leon pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened a message chat with Ada. There was no government information there, so he turned the screen to your face so that you could see what was written months earlier. But you didn't even look. Until Leon grabbed your wrist and put the smartphone in your hand. - "Look, read it since you're so sure that I still love Ada. It already seems to me that you are crazy about her".

Stubbornness was not always the best trait of your character, so you pressed the button on the side of the screen and just put the phone on the bedside table, making it clear that you would not stoop to such baseness to dig into other people's things. You also had a sense of your own worthiness.

"What happened?" - Leon croaked, taking a step forward. - "You wanted proof-I gave it to you."

"I don't want anything anymore Leon"

Only one thought was spinning in your head like a gear, "In vain. You shouldn't have come! Nobody got better from the fact that you disturbed this wound by reopening it." And yet you lied to yourself first of all. Leon's anger is caused by your disbelief, but even in a fit of the most terrible rage, he never did anything to you. Although you definitely felt uncomfortable from the tense atmosphere that had developed, where almost sparks were flying around the room, you still kept well with your arms crossed on your chest.

You needed Leon. You still wanted to love him and hugging a pillow at night you imagined that you were hugging him. But agreeing to be a fallback is also not in your style. There will still be a drop of pride for this.

So you just went to your bag, trying to pick it up to pick up the last belongings and leave, but Leon grabs your wrist. No pain. A firm grip is like a call to stop and give him a few more tries before he lets you go forever.

And you freeze, yielding to your instincts that purr sweetly from the slightest intimacy with this man. I wonder if Leon feels your pulse beating wildly? He lets go of your hand, biting his lower lip, and God, how you want to reach out to him to remember again what it's like to be his lover…

"So you came here just to break my heart again?" - his palms rested on your face, forcing you to look at him. For a second you suffocated drowning in the fragrance of his body and losing your mind looking into those eyes again. It's like they were pulling the soul out of you. - "Which of us is hurting the other more? First you reject me by running away for two months, then you pack up and say you never want to see me, but now you're coming back again… Of the two of us, who is the greater sadist?"

Your cheek pressed against his palm. A wave of heat spread throughout your body in small electrical discharges, as if you had taken a heavy intoxicating drug that turned you into clay in his hands. Leon pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes so that you could listen to the steady breathing and you were so waiting for the last kiss. At least a light touch of his lips…

Maybe in fact the main villain of this story was not Leon at all, but you yourself?

"I do not know," - somehow you whispered barely audible. Despite your closeness, you weren't sure Leon heard. -" I'm completely confused"

His bangs fell over your eyes, which made you smile a little.

"Do you want to leave?" - A question that made the body shudder with fright. As if you didn't want him to ask it to you, because an inner voice kept saying "no" and common sense began to doubt the correctness of the decisions made earlier. - "I don't want to let you go, but I can't forcibly hold you either. I really love you no matter what you think of yourself there, and it doesn't matter whether you believe me or not."

"I want to believe you but" - the voice trembled like a string. You lowered your gaze, trying to blink away the hateful tears despite the fact that Leon continued to hold your face.

"What?"

"I'm afraid." - you finally confessed, feeling a huge crack in your heart. Leon pressed you to his chest and you were grateful to him at that second because you no longer had the strength to control your emotions. - "I'm just afraid"

"My love? Or what?"

You didn't know what you were afraid of anymore. Leon pressed his cheek to the top of your head, holding the back of your head. Both of you didn't even notice how it started raining outside, creating an atmosphere of silence and loneliness. All that the soul craved was to stay standing like that for longer or even for an eternity. You feel his other hand on your waist, but you don't have the resolve to hug him back.

"It's not even about Ada, right?" - you didn't say anything. - "Do you really distrust me so much that you are ready to believe anyone but me?"

"You smelled of her perfume; you kept her things and never trusted me. I've always been away from you."

"Believe me angel, the shit that I constantly see haunts me almost every night and this is not what I want for you at all. Even if you begged me, I would never tell you about it. And about the rest…I have no idea what you smelled there."

Leon's words sounded like a final chord. No more excuses. Your body reflexively pressed against him, feeling the lost warmth of your native closeness, which caused the corners of Leon's lips to slightly rise up.

And in the end, you succumbed to the temptation of clasping his back with your trembling hands, covering your eyes from the fatigue of what is happening.

His lips touched your hair, and the noisy intake of breath that followed made him plunge into memories. It seemed like everything was covered in a misty haze, and your scent could make him lose his mind, even if it was for brief moments. The anxiety of a quick farewell enveloped the body, but there was something else… something that excites the mind regardless of temperature. A strange and at the same time precious emotion that has returned comfort to you two, affectionate behavior to each other, warmth of soul. This is something from the depths of the heart.

If Ada was a candle all this time, whose light illuminated a narrow space, then you were like the sun, whose warmth and beauty he missed so much. Leon realized that he was looking at a dazzling man with a huge sun inside, which dispelled all the darkness that had hung over him since the days of Raccoon City.

He knew he had no right to do that, and you could have pushed him away, but Leon wanted to feel your light one last time. Tearing you away from his shoulder so that the next moment he could press his lips to yours, memorizing your sweet taste. Like a rare nectar that can only be tasted once. A crushing kiss filled with belated remorse.

"Let this be my parting gift"

You're not annoyed or even angry. Whatever happens, you will always love him more than you should. So much time spent in vain to burn bittersweet feelings out of a stupid heart and stop following stupid emotions. Everything was absolutely in vain.

You pursed your lips when Leon started pulling away from you. As an avalanche hit a lonely wanderer, so you were dying at this second. leon believed that his love was hurting you and he is ready to step back so that you can heal, but the fact is that now you are at a crossroads again, not knowing the right way.

So maybe we should turn back?

You don't have an umbrella, just a thin jacket, and it's still raining mercilessly outside, as if someone is mourning the heavens. Drops trickle down the glass, and you wipe away your own tears, trying to listen to the footsteps behind you, but they are not there. A gigantic heaviness rolled over.

"It's stupid," you sobbed when you heard his voice, the one that cut you from the inside like a knife blade, forcing you to clench your teeth. - "I will never look for a meeting with you again, but still…stay with me."

"I..I can not…don't know" - Leon hugged you from behind again. Your voice was lost in hoarse sobs and if it weren't for his strong hands, your knees would hit the floor. It was as if the scenario of that day was repeating itself. - "I don't want to leave. I love you so much..."

You covered your mouth with your hand, unable to hold back your sobs any longer. It's just that emotions poured out in a flurry, turning you into a crying mess. However, the grip on your thin shoulders tightened when Leon turned you around to face him, holding you in a vice.

And your hand felt so good on his neck… Leon smiled as if he didn't want to know anything else in the world, starting to cover your tearful face with smudged kisses lingering on your lips and when you started answering all the barriers finally collapsed.

"So you'll stay." - no question. - "No more tears. No jealousy. You're here with me."

"Lee..on…" - with difficulty pronouncing his name, he burst into your mouth with a new kiss that stopped your breath. His tongue easily slid into your mouth intertwining with yours and you knew where to put yourself, allowing his hands to wander over your body.

"Either you leave now and never come back, or we send everything to hell and forget all the shit that happened to us. Choose now."

You were hanging around his neck, and to be honest, this really was your last chance to escape. It was only necessary to make a movement to the side, to pull away from him, but you stood still. One minute. Two… maybe the last two minutes of your sane thoughts.

You stayed, continuing to look into those sky-blue eyes, pressing your forehead against his, without interrupting eye contact. The person standing in front of you was irreplaceable, and now you would rather part with your life than agree to part with him.

Leon stroked your cheek with a funny peck on the lips, causing a sincere smile.

"Never dare to doubt me. Don't ever leave again. You and I will go somewhere far, far away from here. Let's drop everything and go to some house on the shore of the lake, where we will enjoy the tranquility and each other." - another kiss on the swollen nose. You just nodded, clinging to his T-shirt.

You've always been more of a vanilla girl, but Leon decided that rudeness would be superfluous. Not now and not tonight. He pulled off your clothes along with your underwear, throwing you on the soft bed that you already shared with him once and all you could think about was how he proved his love for you, holding you motionless in his arms, licking wet tracks from his cheeks. You didn't have the strength to fight him trying to take the initiative, the only thing you were thinking about was deep slow thrusts knocking moans out of your mouth. Leon was hugging you to him with great greed and a bit of fear, as if you could run away from him now. That's why he whispered soothing words and praise in your ear all the while tucking your hair back.

"I love you. You have no right to think otherwise. You're just my pretty girl, look at me, beautiful" - Leon threw you on the pillow, forcing you to open your eyes. Panting, you obeyed, wrapping your legs around his torso, pressing even closer to him, while Leon found your hand, twining your fingers together. - "I need you. You're my favorite girl, I love you so much. More than anything in the world, I value you, don't you dare leave me anymore, angel."

His smooth movements were maddening. Leaning over to you, he caught your lips pulling into a gentle kiss, but you immediately interrupted him leaning against his cheek like a petting cat, losing his head and blushing from vulgar pops and squelching sounds due to the abundance of lubricant.

"Don't leave me," - you freed your hands trying to straddle him, but Leon crossed your sad attempt pressing only harder to the mattress. - "I'm not leaving anymore, I swear. I'm so sorry… I've never wanted anyone more than you. Only you…my love…"

He was so gentle with you. There could be bruises from your closeness in some places, but you felt as good as ever in all the past months of separation. A loud moan escaped his lips when he plunged into you too deeply. His seed soiled your belly when he cum snuggling up to you.

You don't remember exactly when your sanity returned to you, but you definitely felt it when Leon, after the second round and long hugs with compliments, took you to the shower where he carefully washed off the traces of your intimacy with him, gently kissing and sucking every bruise left from his fingers, promising that he would take care of it in the morning.

You ran your fingers over his wet bangs, brushing it away from his eyes, which Leon used when he picked you up under the hips after taking a hot shower to take you back to his bed and let you rest.

Actually, the bed linen should have been changed too, but you two didn't care at all. Leon pulled you closer to him, laying you on his chest, hugging you with both hands, stopping any attempts to escape, but you were no longer planning to run anywhere. He fell asleep pretty quickly, and you lay motionless next to him for another hour, tormented by a feeling of hunger and thinking how you could get to the refrigerator without disturbing a light sleep. His shirt was left lying on the floor and with an awkward movement, as if deceiving a sleeping man with the desire to turn over, you carefully free yourself from the ring of embraces by getting out of bed. You take a cursory glance at Leon, making sure that he is still asleep and throw it on hastily without even buttoning his shirt, leaving the bedroom with light steps with the obvious intention of robbing his refrigerator.

Slowly and on tiptoe… wanting to have a snack at least with a sandwich, you realize when you open the door that a mouse has hanged itself in the refrigerator. Nothing particularly edible, and what Leon ate all this time, also remains a mystery.

Although it seems the cheese seemed quite usable. It's not too satisfying after a particularly sinful night, but you can last until morning. You already want to close the door when suddenly you realize with a sixth sense that someone is standing behind you, forcing you to freeze in place with a slice of cheese in your teeth.

But Leon just stroked your thighs laughing at the silent scene.

"I'm hungry" - That's the whole excuse. - "I'm sorry, but I won't fall asleep if I don't eat something…"

"I told you not to leave me anywhere." - It sounded harsh, but with obvious notes of playfulness, especially since Leon was clearly staring at your breasts. - "You could have asked me instead of running away again. God, stop eating that cheese. I don't want you to get poisoned!"

"Then feed me something or I'll starve to death. I definitely won't be able to return from the other world."

Leon took the fucking cheese out of your hands after enjoying this sweet conversation between two lovers and one hungry heart and threw you over his shoulder carrying you back to the bedroom, putting you back in his bed.

"And now you're lying or sitting in bed like the obedient girl you are while I bring us something to eat. If you are not in this place, blame yourself. You've already rubbed my nerves and yours enough, angel." - You nodded, still feeling the residual stress from the hysteria you experienced, but you were still smiling sweetly, hanging one leg over the edge of the bed, teasing Leon a little, who was getting dressed all this time. He noticed your stupid game and took a leather jacket from the closet on the way out of the bedroom tickled your heel, forcing you to hide it back under the blanket.

"You're staying here. So that when I come back, and it will be very soon, I will find you in this very place." - Notes of sadness and fatigue were still hovering in his eyes, so you didn't argue, but just agreed.

"I'll be here. It's raining outside anyway and I don't have an umbrella with me."

Leon flicked you on the nose, clearly not appreciating the joke. He didn't even ask what you wanted, even though he already knew about your taste preferences. Therefore, as soon as the door slammed shut, you quickly reached for your mobile phone, answering missed calls from your parents, explaining to them that you just dozed off and didn't hear the mobile. In general, you have found something to do by digging into your phone, checking messages and flipping through the news feed in the social network, thinking only about Leon and the food that he should bring soon.

It all still seemed unreal. You looked at the corner where your abandoned bag was left lying around, as if confirming reality. It's unlikely to be possible to pretend that nothing happened and Leon really looked too tired, but right now you didn't want to think about anything else except his return. Perhaps you have already suffered enough and you really should go on vacation together somewhere away from the hustle and bustle of the world? Leon will probably want to talk about this topic again with a fresher head when he calms down a little.

In the end, finding you sleeping in his bed was a really beautiful reality that he was afraid he had already lost. In his shirt, with pretty bare thighs, sleeping lightly on his pillow. Leon put the bag of food on the table, taking off his jacket just to hug you, proving to himself once again that this is really not a dream.

You really stayed with him and he won't let you leave anymore.

[possiblylando]

Some of my HTP theories

(Mostly about future plotpoints) 1. Big D looking so young is a plot point and not just a reference to TTS. You probably get what I'm going to say so let's just do some math. We know Markus is at least 30. We'll lowball and say he's 32 since birthday remarks make it sound like it wasn't recent. We know Door is older than Markus. Boy is 11 (as of current) and if we Lowball door's age again (35, 3 year age gap which I doubt is correct) he could've had boy when he was around 24. Then if we assume D had Door in this early 20s, We'll say 20 exactly as another lowball. That would place D at bare minimum 55 years old. My actual estimate is somewhere between 60-70. Yet he has no notable greying hair (ignoring lighting highlights) and is built like a brick shithouse who's able to manhandle brock of all people. As such it makes logical sense to assume there's some fuckery going on with how D ages (or doesn't). I doubt D is a vampire- or was a vampire I saw that theory awhile ago on reddit. What I think is more likely is that he gained immortality through mage fuckery. There's a character in Dorohedoro who's an old man but he got hit by age reduction magic so he's stuck being physically like 14. I think D has something similar going on. 2. Door is going to leave the family. I was thinking of saying "Door will betray the family" but that doesn't really fit. D's biggest flaw is that he's too secretive. There's currently no evidence that he's even told the rest of the family about Kevin being alive. Markus has some inkling of it because of the cop but I doubt he's put anything together. We all of course know Kevin is genuinely on D's side now, but Kevin can't be kept a secret forever. Eventually his existence is going to come out and when it does, I can not foresee a future where Door is happy about it. Door was willing to forgive D's secrets because they were to protect the family. But if he finds out D has been keeping a vampire alive and as an ALLY no less I can see that trust crumble down. Door has of course made his opinions on vampires VERY clear. As such if he finds out about Kevin not from D but from another incident he's going to have to make a choice. -Either stick to his morals and leave the family to hunt vampires on his own (maybe taking boy with him). -Or accept that his entire worldview on vampires is flawed and some of them can be saved. 3. Grimal is the ghoul, But she won't die. This kind of ties into the previous one as well. I went over a good chunk of the evidence surrounding Grimal being the ghoul in another post. I'll quickly summarize it here; -Grimal is known to crawl through the vents -She was in the security room when Occam was attack and the only way to get into the vault is through the door or air vents. -If she has vampire magic it could explain why brock's knives all broke when he tried to use them. -She has attachments to the people at the arcanum so wouldn't want to kill them. Which is why Occam didn't die. There's of course more evidence but this is all just summary. Now my actual theory is that Grimal is going to be found out and either D, Markus, or Kitten will go up to bat for her and this is when D will reveal he has a way to deal with ghouls. We know from Kevin that being a ghoul is similar to the blood pact where you're basically completely fucked and under control of your superior. Which is why I could see them trying to help her. Now think back to Guy Chapman, he hasn't actually served much purpose in the story being a ghoul. His existence is world building. It shows that ghouls can be anyone and anywhere. He also shows that ghouls can switch masters like he switched to Kevin. The idea is that Guy is set up so that when Grimal eventually undergoes the same thing it won't be an asspull/reveal it'll be an extension of pre-established mechanics. Door will of course NOT be happy about this.

[traumei]

Irene x Male Reader

genre: Fluff

Irene was already mid-ramble when she glanced across the room, noticing the gentle, attentive expression on the man's face as he sat on the edge of their bed. The soft evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a serene glow over the bedroom that had become their shared sanctuary. Her words tumbled out in a steady stream, detailing the grueling dance practices and the relentless pace of her schedule.

“It was just one thing after another, you know? And then the stylist had to redo my hair three times because it just wouldn’t sit right," Irene explained, her voice a mix of frustration and exhaustion as she kicked off her shoes and sank beside him on the bed.

She paused, suddenly conscious of how much she'd been talking, her eyes flickering with a trace of worry. “. . . sorry, I talked too much,” she muttered, looking away slightly.

He turned towards her, his hand finding hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “No, no, no, not at all. Keep talking. I like hearing about your day, no matter how tough it gets,” he encouraged warmly, drawing a relieved laugh from her.

Encouraged, she scooted closer, resting her head against his shoulder. “And then, during the live performance, my mic almost slipped off. I had to catch it mid-song without anyone noticing. It was like a stealth mission in one of those spy movies you love,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled, imagining the scene. “You’re my superhero, you know that? Always saving the day, even on stage.” His words were light, but the admiration in his eyes was earnest, making her smile soften.

Comfortable in the familiarity of their room and the quiet understanding between them, Irene felt the weight of the day lift slightly. She continued to share, her voice steadier now, recounting both the trials and the trivial moments that peppered her day. As she spoke, it wasn’t just about unloading her burdens anymore; it was about sharing her world with him, knowing he cherished these insights into her life as much as she valued his presence.

“Sometimes, I just wonder if I’m doing everything right. It’s all so overwhelming at times,” she confessed quietly, her voice nearly a whisper as she leaned into him more.

“And every time, you’ll find you’re doing better than ‘right’, you’re doing amazingly. But remember, you don’t have to carry it all alone,” he murmured back, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. He then stand up and close the curtain.

The night get dimmer, the room was soft with shadows as he returned from the window, a blanket in hand which he gently wrapped around them both. Irene nestled closer to him, her eyes reflecting a mix of weariness and relief.

“Sometimes, it feels like I’m just going through the motions, you know? Like I’m on stage but not really present,” Irene confessed, her voice a whisper as she found comfort in his closeness.

He nodded, understanding her struggle. “I can only imagine how tough that must be. But here, you don’t have to perform or pretend. Just be Joohyun, the one I love, not the idol everyone else sees.”

She smiled at his words, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders. “I love that I can just be me with you. No cameras, no expectations. Just us.”

“Exactly, just us,” he echoed, his thumb gently tracing circles on her hand. “Tell me more about what’s on your mind. Whatever you need to share, I’m here.”

Irene took a deep breath, comforted by his invitation to open up further. “During Yesterday practice, I kept messing up the steps. Everyone thinks I handle pressure well, but today, I felt like I was crumbling under it. It’s so frustrating.”

He squeezed her hand gently. “You’re human, Joohyun-nah. It’s okay to have off days. They don’t define you or your incredible talent.”

Hearing his reassuring words, Irene felt a surge of gratitude. “Thank you for reminding me of that. It’s easy to forget when you feel like you’re under a microscope.”

“That’s what I’m here for—to remind you that you’re amazing, just the way you are,” he said with a warm smile.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind filled with mutual understanding and affection. Irene then broke the silence, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. “Do you know how much these nights mean to me? How they help me recharge and face another day?”

“I hope they mean as much to you as they do to me,” he replied, his voice just as soft.

“They do. More than you can imagine,” Irene assured him, leaning in to kiss his cheek gently. “Being here with you, it’s my favorite part of the day.”

As they settled deeper into the night, their conversation flowed naturally, each moment building the foundation of their bond. It wasn’t just about sharing the highlights and low points of her day, but about sharing life itself—raw, unedited, and real. With each word, each shared laughter and consoling whisper, Irene felt her spirits lift, fortified by the love and understanding that filled their small, sacred space.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Greeting! Can I request Fem!Reader who has a cursed of being beautiful than Aphrodite since she was a child and made all mens obsessed with her. But Y/n cover herself with a mask and became a mysterious history legend who save trillions of people from their death. She was called ‘The Angel of Shadow’. Y/n was summon by Brunhilde to help her with Ragnarok. Once Y/n is next in her round she fight the god. But when the god took her down with a blow, her mask came off reveal her beauty. The god was shock and couldn’t help but keep staring at her beauty while fighting. But the god forfeit the match. Y/n try to look for him to ask him why but when the god found her, he went on one knee and said ‘Please, be with me for eternity. Your so beautiful.’ But Y/n slap him and run away, the god follow her trying to look for her and keep on saying ‘Be with me!’

You can chose your choice of characters.

-To some, beauty was a blessing, getting love, adoration from others, and getting attention from others, while to others, beauty was a curse.

-You had been ‘blessed’ with ethereal beauty, even as a child, people always told you how beautiful you were, their innocent awe and fawning giving way to obsession and want.

-You couldn’t tell how many times you had been kidnapped as a child, by those wanting to keep your beauty for the own, to always be able to admire it.

-That’s why you hid yourself, hiding away from others, wearing a mask in public to hide yourself, to give you just a bit of peace.

-You learned how to defend yourself, training with master swordsmen from around the world, so you could defend yourself against those who knew of you, who knew your beauty.

-You became something of a vigilante as you grew, taking down people and corporations who kidnapped others, other beautiful people, freeing the captives and capturing the wretches that would do that to others.

-While some saw you as a threat, not only to authority, but to those whose businesses you were ruining by freeing their captives, so many people saw you as an angel, The Angel of Shadows, is that they called you.

-The nickname embarrassed you so much when you read it in the papers, you hadn’t meant to become a beacon of hope, you just wanted people to stop with their shit with beautiful people.

-You died as you lived, a hero, stopping a truck filled with kidnapped attractive people, both adults and children, you saved them, but you took a bullet to save a child after one of their captors tried to attack you before the police arrived.

-In Valhalla, you ascended the same as you were when you died, as it was your prime, and you kept your mask as well, keeping your face hidden from the other warriors of the past and the gods, many who only knew you from your legend, that you were a strong swordswoman and that you were a vigilante.

-Brunnhilde approached you when Ragnarok was announced, asking you to fight for humanity.

-You knew that just like the gods, there were good gods and bad gods, which is why you chose to fight, to fight for the good that is in humanity.

-Your opponent was annoyed, seeing a petite human female standing across from him, feeling almost insulted that Brunnhilde would select you to fight him.

-You quickly proved why you had been chosen, your movements with not only your body, using well placed kicks, but your sword work was breathtaking, you had him quickly on his toes as your speed combined with your power made you a formidable opponent.

-He managed to get a few good hits in, knocking you back before he managed to knock your sword out of your hand.

-He backhanded you hard, sending you flying, rolling to a stop but you quickly rolled backwards, rolling to your feet.

-Your eyes widened as your mask cracked before it crumbled, falling to pieces at your feet, revealing your face, your stunning beauty.

-Eyes went wide and jaws dropped all around, even Aphrodite was in shock, her hands cupping her cheeks, “What a lovely maiden~” hearing her praise you only seemed to make your beauty grow, that Aphrodite herself had to praise you.

-Loki- His eyes were wide, gawking at you, completely frozen as you grabbed your sword, ready to continue fighting, a determination in your stunning eyes. Loki then stunned all by raising his hand, “I forfeit!” you were just as stunned as everyone else in the stadium, some didn’t believe Loki, thinking he was joking until he exited, leaving you standing in the arena as the winner, cheers quickly erupting around for you. You were confused, wondering why he threw the match, you sheathed your sword, turning to head back inside yourself. It was an hour later, and you were walking around, a small scowl on your face as you had been approached and hit on by so many different men that you were going to go and find a new mask, but you had a mission first, to find Loki. After searching and telling the men who approached you that you were looking for Loki, news got around to him and he popped out, a beaming smile on his face. You went to ask him why he threw the match before you flinched back as he kneeled, adoration in his eyes, “Marry me Y/N!” you folded your arms, hip popping to the side, a pout on your face, “You don’t even know me, why would you want to marry me?” he was quick to stand, taking your hands in his, “You’re beautiful and strong! What’s more to know?” Moments later he was on his back after you had judo thrown him over your shoulder before you stomped away, pouting, angry that he threw the match because you were pretty and wanted to get with you. He was quick to pop back up, becoming even more infatuated, calling after you.

-Thor- Your sword was quickly back in your hands, and you prepared to rush at him again, but you paused, seeing him lowering Mjolnir, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion. His posture relaxed as he felt a calming feeling wash over him, feeling calm just by looking at you. He had seen many maidens in his life, but none had the effect you had on him. He gripped the handle of Mjolnir for a moment, his eyes closing before he inhaled, looking up and speaking, “I forfeit the match!” jaws dropped, gawking at his statement as he turned, leaving you in the middle of the arena, you had stretched a hand towards him, taking a step closer, wanting to call out to him to find out why he had thrown the match as you were announced the winner, cheers filling the air. Once backstage you went to the medical facilities to get bandaged up, you weren’t terribly hurt, but you had wounds that needed a bit more treatment than just ‘walk it off’. When you exited you squeaked, bumping into Thor’s chest before you stepped back, looking up at him, an apology coming out on instinct, but he didn’t seem bothered. He stared down at you, surprised to see you there before his eyes went to the bandaged wounds, the wounds he caused, guilt gnawing in his belly that he was the one to hurt you. Your hands came to your hips, eyes narrowed in a slight glare, “Why did you throw the match?” He surprised you by kneeling, instead of answering, before he took one of your hands, pecking the back of it, making your face flush before he spoke, “Stand by my side for the rest of eternity.” His proposal stunned you, eyes widening before you glared, your anger making you look like you were pouting, taking your hand back, “Unbelievable.” You stomped off and he was quick to come after you, questioning why you were mad, not understanding why you were angry.

-Hercules- He knew that you were a maiden, as he had been upset that he had to fight a maiden, his sense of justice telling him to forfeit before your fight even started. You had impressed him with your skills, you were a trained warrior, a worthy opponent, but now, seeing you there, your beauty revealed he instantly boomed, “I GIVE UP!” shouts of shock quickly filled the stadium, your eyes had widened before you frowned, confusion filling you. You went to ask him why he forfeited the match before he approached you and instantly kneeled, “MARRY ME!” the whole stadium seemed to erupt with screams and cheers, gawking at his bold and sudden proposal. Your face had instantly turned bright red before you spoke, your voice low, “Why?” he seemed stunned by your question, like it was a trick before he smiled, beaming at you, “Because you’re beau-” you instantly swung with both hands, slapping both of his cheeks at the same time, “STUPID!” your action caused shock to ripple through the crowd as you glared, tears in your eyes, “Don’t ask me something like that if the only reason is because of my looks!!” you turned and walked out, after being announced the winner and many, including Aphrodite, who felt pity for you, as you wanted to be loved for your whole being, not just your beauty, and to be publicly proposed to like that on top of it, she knew it must have been embarrassing for you. Hercules sought you out after he returned backstage, running through the halls to apologize to you after Aphrodite offered him a bit of wisdom about what he had done to you. It was amusing to see you trying to keep the door closed between the two of you, once you opened the door, as he was just standing there, holding the door while you were trying your hardest to shut him out, a pout on your face as you were still mad at him. He apologized to you, making you freeze, only for a moment, not looking at him before you looked up at him, tears in your eyes and he froze, panicking that he had made you cry as you sniffled softly, letting go of the door, “I just…I just want someone to love me for me…” he kneeled, apologizing again, taking your hand in his, brushing your tears away carefully, now seeing you as just a maiden, wanting love, his fondness for you growing.

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Down the Barrel

[BATIM/BATDR] Alice Angel x Female Reader

Summary: Alice thinks you've betrayed her, assuming you gave away the location of her safehouse after she sees you talking to Allison and Tom. You have to save yourself from this misunderstanding.

Word Count: 4.24k Content Warnings: Toxic/abusive relationship, manipulation, syringes and injections, fear of abandonment, near-death experience, jealousy, manipulation, a "break up" between Reader and Alice Category: Heavy Angst || Oneshot

[A/N]: Alice and Reader have an extremely unhealthy relationship in this short story, but I am in no way trying to condone or romanticize it. There are multiple sensitive topics as listed above, so please look after yourself and avoid reading if you feel any of these are too heavy for you.

Enjoy!

 From close behind, merely inches away, you could hear the sound of Alice’s heels clicking against the warped planks beneath her. You had headed toward the vault door to head out for the day, but mistakenly forgot to let her know. Frigid fingers clasped themselves around your wrist and held you in place with a vice grip. A small tug backward was all it took for you to turn and face her. “Where do you think you’re going?” She pulled you closer, her hold on you never faltering, even as you stumbled forward from the motion. As she spoke, the one eye she still had intact narrowed, almost threatening you and daring you not to cower under her gaze.

Her tone was demeaning. Each time you tried to pull your arm from her clutch, her nails only dug deeper into your skin. With a harsh swallow, you managed to stammer out an answer. “I’m sorry, Alice. I meant to tell you, I just forgot. I was going to head down to a few of the lower levels to find a few supplies to help with your experiments.”

For a long, painful moment, she seemed to only drag out the thick tension, as though wanting you to feel the crushing consequence of blatantly ignoring the one rule she had set in place. After so long, you had managed to tear her walls down and get her to trust you, though there were still demands to be met. One of which she was more stubborn about than others. Each time you planned to leave the hidden corner of her sanctuary, you were to let her know ahead of time. If you forgot to do so, and if she wasn’t told of your whereabouts until you returned, the punishments could be ruthless.

You would be subjected to a few of her smaller, yet equally as merciless, experiments. They ranged from small tests of the weight her pulley-based traps could hold, all the way to enduring endless injections of different deadly concoctions she had developed over time, most of which would leave you bedridden for days or even weeks.

Those punishments were far worse. No matter what she kept in the syringe, the fiery jolt of pain that bursted through each vein throughout your body always seemed to be worse than the last. So little of her supplies could ease the throbbing pain that continued to torment you for weeks. Thankfully, she had eased up on carrying those punishments out as time went on. In her own twisted, demented way, she began to care for you, growing attached and increasingly fearful of losing you. Although it brought her sadistic joy to see you writhing from her tools and trials, she couldn’t bear the idea of bringing you to death’s door.

You were everything to her.

All she had left in the vile, rotten world that built the studio was you.

You weren’t spared from her tests, nor were you given a sense of freedom, but you were granted a promise she had made to keep you safe.

Even if you couldn’t avoid her line of fire when directed toward you, she made sure you were sheltered from the countless grueling abominations crawling just outside the door. Everyone beneath the domain of the crumbling studio feared two beings above everything else: the Ink Demon, and Alice Angel herself. You knew that those who were aware you were under her watch would drift apart in your favor. They’d give you room and split ways just to grant you a false sense of superiority that you knew was only caused by the fear they felt for the very woman who took you in.

Each time, even as you stood silent in front of her then, you wondered how differently your path would’ve been shaped if you had accepted the offer Allison and Tom had given you years ago to stay with them instead. With every experiment Alice put you through, you regretted turning them down more and more.

To pull you from your trance, Alice whisked your arm away and finally let go of your wrist, which had already begun to bruise. Eager to find relief, you pulled your hand to your chest to shield it as your fingers massaged the red skin. “Good,” was all she could bother to say. Still, she stood there, glaring at you expectantly. Your words seemed to bubble up in your chest and throat, though it was hard to free them.

“I should be back in two hours,” you managed to whisper weakly in the end.

The non-tattered portion of her lips tugged upward, mimicking a ghost of a smile. With her eyes still trained warily on you, she lifted her arms to cross them atop her chest. “You’d better keep true to your word,” she murmured with venom laced in her tone. As though she couldn’t be bothered to contribute to the stalemate any longer, she turned swiftly on her heel and traversed her way down the hall to return to her study, finally leaving you to your task.

Using the hand that hadn’t been throttled mere moments before, you turned the valve wheel as best you could to allow you to shove the bulky door open.

Once the steel was locked back in place behind you, your trembling legs hardly allowed you to weakly wobble forward. As you progressed to the elevator and stepped inside, some part of you screamed to run and leave Alice for good. If you weren’t so afraid of your only means of defense being stripped away, you would have left her long ago and joined Allison and Tom in their own safe house. They knew something was going on behind closed doors, but you always defended Alice without knowing why. You didn’t deserve her treatment. You knew that, and yet you stayed, but you couldn’t understand what prevented you from leaving.

You didn’t love her, and she didn’t seem to love you.

But some part of you knew what the reason likely was.

If you left, not only would people come after you, but Alice herself would hunt you like a bloodhound and take you out herself. She would probably drag you back to her sanctuary and return to the way things were when you had first been captured. There would be no restraint in her actions when she returned to experimenting on you, and you weren’t sure how many more injections you could take.

The only two people who were willing to save and protect you would also be thrown under attack, and the last thing you wanted to do was burden them with another threat. As far as you could tell, there was no way out.

The first two levels below Level 9 had nothing to offer. It seemed like someone had scavenged for supplies long before you, and you felt like you knew who it was. As you reached a floor even deeper than before, you recognized a small toolkit propped up against the only wall that hadn’t been soaked and molded with ink. Only one Angel, one who truly seemed to be a gift from heaven, carried such a particular set of tools, and waves of relief and ease crashed over your tensed form.

You meandered forward upon hearing distant murmuring combined with tin cans clanking together. As you sauntered further and neared the two shadows visible from a small office, you couldn’t help but glance over at a nearby clock, the swinging motion of the legs and arms catching your eye. Blood running cold, you realized you had been out far later than you had promised Alice you would be. Things were going to be even worse than when you had left once you returned.

But Allison and Tom were right there… you didn’t have to return.

They’d keep you safe.

With a quick breath to give yourself courage, you stepped into the office and greeted them. They turned, surprised, and smiled warmly.

A displeased grimace painted Alice’s lips as she stepped out of her study. She slammed the door behind her and charged her way to the door you had slipped through over three and a half hours before. You promised you’d be back in two hours. Where the hell had you gone?

Quickly, before leaving the hidden portion of her safe house, her clenched fist opened just long enough to snatch her tommy gun from its stand against the wall. As she muttered curse after curse under her breath, she strode to the elevator leading out of Level 9 and clicked down.With every floor that she searched, her fury and panic grew. No matter how far down she traveled, it seemed you weren’t anywhere to be found.

You betrayed her.

Lied to her.

You had to have planned something. You wouldn’t just leave her like that, would you?

Her scowl grew, and soon, she had reached one of the deepest parts of the studio. Cautiously, she forced herself to step out of the lift. Her hands clutched violently at her weapon to steady themselves as her surroundings seemed to fall further into unfamiliarity.

The halls grew longer until it seemed as though there was no end in sight. Shadows danced around the rotting ground as she pushed forward, the flickering lights soon dimming and falling as black as the ink that seeped into each wall, no life left to offer. Each step caused the floorboards to creak and wail beneath her weight, prompting a part of her mind to warn her of the possibility that the floor might give way at any moment. Breathing ragged and sharp, she eventually found the end of the hall she had been creeping down and turned to the right.

Down the adjacent corridor, a blazing glow sparked to life, providing negative space for the silhouettes of three shifting figures. With piqued curiosity, Alice couldn’t help but give in to her interest in who would dare to travel so far down to the hellish depths even the Demon himself avoided. She carried toward the source of light, body hugging the wall as she made her best effort to silence her footsteps.

With every shuffle closer, she could make out the sounds of two voices, both feminine, though no matter how hard she strained her hearing, she couldn’t make out any words. By the time she was only a few steps from the doorway, she could finally recognize the different voices. Both realizations made her blood boil beneath her skin.

You were there, speaking so casually with Allison, meaning the only other person who could be in the room as well was Tom. She could feel herself begin to seethe. Her jaw clenched as she struggled to ignore every burning nerve in her body that screamed for her to enter the office. Even without seeing you and the two people she despised the most, she could hear how relaxed the conversation seemed to be. Far too blinded by rage, she failed to listen to what was being said, only able to come up with her own dialogue.

Before anyone could take notice of her presence, she slipped away from the room and stormed back to the lift, now uncaring of the haunted surroundings in her path.

She hadn’t paid attention to where she was going. By the time she focused back in on her actions, she found herself standing stiff just before the entrance to her sanctuary. She glanced down at her hands, both trembling and desperately gripping at the grip and handguard. Behind her ribs, her heartbeat grew rapid and uneven, hammering harshly against them and causing her gasps for breath to stutter.

How could you leave her like that? Were you going to leave her for Allison? The copycat who stole everything from her?

She wouldn’t let you–couldn’t let you. You were all she had, and she was all you had. She needed you, you needed her, she loved you, you loved her, did you not?

What could she do to make you stay? Was there anything she could even do at that point? You had deceived her, made her believe you were coming back when you weren’t. That had to have been your plan: to make everything seem natural until you could get away and run to the safety of Allison and Tom. She knew they’d take you away from her in a heartbeat if you so much as asked.

She was going to lose you, she was sure. Lose the only bit of light she still had down in the world of hell she had lived alone in for so long.

Surely there was a way for her to convince you she was worth staying with.

She knew she was worthy, she just wasn’t sure how to prove it to you.

You had only been there for a short amount of time in comparison to the other poor souls trapped and sequestered from the world. You had no way of knowing the full extent of what she was capable of, nor what she was willing to do to get what she wanted. At that moment, you were all she wanted–all she needed.

You weren’t going to leave her.

She made sure of that as she heard footsteps approaching behind her. One glance over her shoulder confirmed it was you. Without hesitation, she hid herself behind the wall adjoining the hall you were headed down. As you emerged into the opening, an inky arm erupted from your side and blocked you for a brief moment. Just as quickly, the hand obstructing your path seized the collar of your shirt and yanked you forward.

The owner of the force revealed themself, and Alice–just like she had done before you left–stood before you, her face mere inches from your own. The vice grip against your blouse didn’t falter as she made the motion to shake you back and forth for an instant. When you swayed back the first time, she lifted her opposite arm and shoved her weapon toward your head.

Swallowing hard, you could only stare down the barrel of her gun as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Her piercing gaze met your fearful eyes once you managed to tear your focus away from what threatened your life.

“You vile, unforgivable wretch,” she growled. “How dare you? First, you deceive me, telling me you’ll return. Then, when I finally find you long after when you had promised to come back to me, I find you practically fawning over that damned copycat you’re always so cordial with. Heaven only knows why I ever allowed you to speak to them. They’re trying to steal yet another belonging of mine, just as they’ve done time and time again in the past.

“I won’t allow it this time. I’ll hide you away so they can’t find you and take you away from me. Somewhere they don’t know of, especially after you gave away where we’ve both been hiding past my sanctuary. I bet you want them to swoop in and save you from everything, don’t you? Is that why you told them where the safe house is? Oh, I’m sure you begged for that woman, Allison, to take you home with her and that disgusting clone that follows her like a lost puppy. Isn’t that right, you conniving little devil?”

For so long, even after she had finished voicing her list of accusations, you simply stared, entirely limp in her grasp. War raged on in your mind, begging you to say something, anything. Anything at all.

The feeling of the gun’s barrel thrusting forward to dig in against the space between your eyes finally coerced your mouth to form words again. “Alice,” you stammered out, “I never told them where we’re hiding, I promise. I was only catching up and asking where I could find the stuff you need for your tests.”

A snarl was your response at first, though she was quick to bark a retort. “You aren’t going to fool me again, you damned traitor. All you’ve done today is feed me lie after lie, and I refuse to let it continue. Why should I believe you now, knowing it could be yet another story you’re creating just to save your skin?” Once again, you tried to find a way to reason with her, desperately aching for her to let you go and pull the gun from your head. “Alice, I’m sorry. I really thought it would only take a couple of hours to find supplies, but Allison and Tom had already gathered them from the first levels downstairs, so I had to go further down to find things. That’s where I found them, and I was asking if they had anything to spare.

“If I had really told them where we were hiding, wouldn’t I have just brought them here with me? It’s easy to get lost in the studio. Just giving directions wouldn’t do anything. It’s like a maze trying to get to our safety zone. Even with their experience, I doubt they’d be able to find it without being noticed.”

Much to your relief, each point you had to offer compelled her to loosen her grip until ultimately you fell to the floor. She stared down at you, face devoid of any emotion as she processed all that you had said. You mustered up the strength to rise from the ground and stand on wobbly legs. It took everything in you to meet her eye as you did so, trying your best to fein a look of concern.

“You don’t really think I’d betray you, do you?”

She simply stood there in silence, her one good eye boring down blankly at you.

“Let’s go,” she grumbled, her gun falling to her side and her free hand slipping into yours to tug you along behind her.

She turned, then began the long journey back to the safe house. A thick, heavy tension hung in the air between the both of you. The silence was deafening, and even as you hopelessly tried to think of what to say to ease into some kind of conversation, not a word was uttered by the time you had made it to the vault door. Alice turned the valve wheel and forced the door open, letting you step inside before her so she could shut and lock it behind her.

You turned to her, watched as she dropped her gun on the table seated in the center of the foyer, then silently trailed behind her as she walked to your shared bedroom. When you stepped forward to cross the doorway and join her in the room, she practically slammed the door in your face, making you stumble backward in shock.

“Alice?” You questioned with a small knock on the sturdy wooden surface.

“Leave me be,” was all you could hear.

Huffing out a sigh and letting your shoulders slump in defeat, you trudged away from the room and instead wandered into the office across the hall to rest on the sofa pressed against the mirroring wall.

Hours had passed by the time you found yourself once again standing just outside the bedroom. You knocked, but got no response. As your lips parted to let you speak, Alice’s voice interrupted. “Come in.” In an attempt to steel your spiked nerves, you sucked in a deep breath.

Hand trembling, you grasped at the handle of the door, twisting it and slowly pushing forward to reveal more and more of the bedroom, waiting for her to holler at you that she had changed her mind and wanted you gone.

Seated slouched over on the edge of the bed, Alice merely glanced over at you before her head dipped down to hide the shameful expression that contorted her face. Slowly, too afraid to make a wrong move and upset her, you shuffled to sit by her side. Still, she refused to meet your gaze. One moment passed, then two, and soon you had begun to bounce your leg and pick relentlessly at the hem of your shirt.

A frigid hand planted itself softly against your leg to still it. You peered up to find Alice finally looking back at you. Eventually, you sighed, letting your hand rest on top of hers. “Could I ask you something?” You asked faintly. A nod was your response.

“Do you truly believe I would ever betray you?”

She chuckled. “Honestly? With all I’ve put you through, I wouldn’t blame you. I’d hate you for it, but I know I’d do the same. I talk so much of keeping you safe, but I’ve put you through so much hell. All the experiments I’ve forced on you, all the punishments I’ve given you because you simply did as you pleased, every time I’ve put you down or hurt you… You don’t deserve any of it, and I truly am sorry, but you have to understand my side of this, too. You never fully know who you can trust down here, darling. You know I adore you, even though I have a horrible way of expressing it, but I’ve been living with this paranoia for so long. It’s hard to just ignore it. I hope you can find it in yourself to try and understand.

“On top of everything today, you were speaking to the two people down here who I tried to hunt down for years. Until recently, we had never been civil with one another. You changed that, but I know they still don’t enjoy my company. They don’t hide it well at all. I can’t say I blame them for that either.”

You felt a small spark of frustration grow at her words, blurting out what flooded your mind before you could stop yourself. “Alice, I know you’ve been through hell down here, too, but that gives you no right to torture me the way you do. You’re right: I don’t deserve any of the experiments you put me through, and I sure as hell don’t deserve the punishments that I get for being myself. And the shittiest part of all of this is that, even though you’re a horrible person, I still can’t bring myself to leave.” You laughed, tears welling up and blurring your vision, unable to bite back the feelings you had kept bottled up for so long.

“That’s so fucked up, isn’t it? That after how much shit you put me through, I still want you to like me. Some part of me believes you’d stop hurting me if I just bend over backwards to make you happy, that if I walk on eggshells long enough, you’ll see me as a human being. As a person–as an individual. Someone you can’t toy with and boss around. God, I hate this. I hate you, but the stupidest part of me loves you.

“I don’t want to feel this anymore. I want to be happy, and I know I sure as hell won’t feel that way if I stay here with you. I have to leave, whether you like it or not.” You stood then, ready for her to bolt up and scream at you that you needed to remember your place around her. Instead, she laughed, a deep bellow that slowly quieted down. Once more, she stared down at the floor beneath her. “I know. I saw this coming. You should probably leave now. The reality of this hasn’t kicked in for me yet, but once it does, I know I’ll only hurt you. Leave me, break me, and go live with Allison and Tom.”

You scoffed. There was no possible way she was still trying to guilt-trip you, was there? But you knew her better. She was absolutely trying to do so.

You weren’t going to fall for it any longer.

You stepped closer, leaning down to let your face rest dangerously close to her own.

“Rot in hell,” you snarled, matching the same tone she had always used when speaking down to you as though you were a mindless child.

Alice grinned and watched as you fled from the room in an instant. She sighed heavily. Already, the fury and possessiveness she had grown accustomed to began to bubble its way to the surface. Her blood lit ablaze throughout her veins, only being stifled by her nails digging painfully into her thigh and drawing blood.

In truth, she genuinely had seen this coming. All throughout the time you had shared, she knew what she was doing to you was horrendous, and she knew you’d find the courage to leave one day. There would always be a part of her that wanted to keep you chained by her side and selfishly save you for herself, but she had to disregard it for you.

As vile as what she had done, she loved you. Yet, just as she had done all her life, she had pushed the very thing keeping her alive away.

You were leaving, and this time you wouldn’t return.

She deserved to rot in hell, as you had put it.

You deserved to join others who would treat you the way you truly deserved.

You were leaving.

She would be alone all over again.

You were never coming home.

Far away, down the hall and past each room, the front door slammed shut.

[ymaohoh]

End of passion play, crumbling away - drabble - prompt

Hellcheer prompt - 'Chrissy and Eddie are reunited in death'.

End of passion play, crumbling away And what a fucking way to go. Eddie knew he was dying. Knew that as soon as the demobats’ teeth first sank into his flesh and consumed him piece by piece. It was a pain like he’d never experienced before. The thunder and lightning in the sky above seemed to absorb his screams. It was all very punk rock and metal. As Eddie’s soul trickled out of his body in a curious stream of bright gold light, a lithe figure wrapped in the same blinding light crept towards him. Its steps were soft and deliberate even though the red twisted roots and vines of Vecna could pose no possible danger. It turned its head to peer at him and Eddie recognised with a sudden intensity the graceful line of its body. He knew its gaze.  Eddie found himself trying to speak even though he had no breath left in his lungs. His shredded mouth (once so alive and animated and ready to laugh) lay useless now. Yet he wanted to call out and plead for this angel to come closer. To stay with him. To cry with him. An angel with the kindest and saddest eyes he ever saw.  Did you see that, Chrissy? God damn, that was the best rock show in the history of the world. Better than the Garden.  You were amazing, Eddie. I’m so proud of you.  Her lips never once moved yet her sweet voice was a melody. She was kneeling by his body and he saw that her limbs were smooth and unbroken. Just like she deserved. Something uncurled inside him at the sight of her face, he so glad to see her.  Are we dead? I think so. Yeah. He wanted to lift his ruined fingers to her lips. Even in death Chrissy Cunningham had the most beautiful smile, even if it looked like she was weeping. Every tear that ran down her bright illuminated cheek made him die all over again. I’m sorry I didn’t save you. I was a real fucking coward. It's alright, you saved the others. That’s what matters. Master of puppets, I'm pulling your strings Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams He could feel himself sinking further and further back into that gold stream of light as a little more of him faded. But maybe it was okay because she was here. It can't be all bad if he was going to the same place as her. What was left of his scattered thoughts suddenly imagined him and Chrissy in matching graduation robes, grinning as they posed for dumb pictures, and then Chrissy kissing his cheek as they drove away in his van leaving Hawkins far behind. It was too soon. This was too soon. His heart wrenched for all the fucking fantastic possibilities that now lay wasted. They were still kids and they deserved to be more than the casualties of some fucked up game of magic and smoke. He and Chrissy would fade away when they deserved the chance to live, grow, make mistakes. Just like kids were supposed to. But this bitterness wouldn't change a damn thing and he knew it. It was simply too late. So instead he kept his gaze on Chrissy's face and drank her in as his consciousness slipped away. And she made him feel safe. Chrissy, I want to take you on a date someday, you know? Fireworks, the whole lot. I'll make it real special. Just us. Yeah, Eddie. That sounds good. Come on, take my hand. Let’s go… Eddie wanted to grin and laugh and cry as the figure wrapped her lovely arms around him, the cloak of shimmering light enveloping and exhausting him completely.  Never-ending maze, drift on numbered days Now your life is out of season

Inspired partly by the interview with Grace and Joe and Grace says 'they're together now' (in death).

Lyrics are from Puppets

[coupleoffanfics]

Hello, could I make a request for a Barbara Gordon x reader please( man that sounds pushy) if it could be fluffy that would be amazing. There isn’t a whole lot on her. If you don’t want to write it that’s okay. Have a good day or night

Subtlety Relax

Barbara Gordon x Fem! Reader

Barbara has always been enthusiastic about her work. It was something y/n respected and supported regardless of her worries with vigilantism. Even after being wheelchair-bound, y/n would have thought that was where she'd end that line of work. Of course, she shouldn't doubt her girlfriend for a millisecond.

y/n is happy that Barbara is doing something that's she passionate about and actively helping save lives even if it's not directly anymore. She is happy for her, but y/n has noticed a few things.

Sometimes Barbara forgets to keep work at work and relax. There's always a new case that needs to be solved. Another threat to the city. y/n isn't sure what to do since she's not in that particular line of work. She was nothing more than a civilian. What right did she have to speak to Barbara about something she's been doing for years?

It just didn't seem right, so she always opted to be on the sidelines. Being a good girlfriend by cheering Barbara on and doing anything to help out. That worked for them for a while, but sometimes things become too much. She'd either bite more than she can chew or be burned out.

Playful remarks would become snappy, hiding her frustration. It was always unpleasant for everyone, so y/n did something she'd never done before. Pull Barbara away from something.

She didn't forcefully make Barbara drop her work. No, that could lead to an argument and resistance. Maybe even distancing herself from y/n. What y/n did was make small efforts to relax Barbara whenever they were together.

A normal afternoon becomes a trip to the massage parlor. A small date at y/n's apartment becomes a candle-lit dinner with Barbara's favorite dishes. Just before bedtime, y/n coincidentally ran a bubble bath and it's a shame to enjoy it alone.

There's also a lot of lavender scents because when she looked up things that can calm someone. Lavender oils were one of the first results.

In all honesty, y/n thought she was being subtle with it. Somehow y/n has once again doubted Barbara.

"I know what you're trying to do." Barbara watched y/n closely. Her eyes widened slightly before going back to normal. "Doing what? What am I even doing?" She laughed.

"You've never been into scented oils or lavender. Even when you aren't around I can still smell the lavender." y/n's face fell for a moment, but she still tried to play it off. "Okay, you don't like lavender. I'll throw out anything that has lavender." Barbara raised an eyebrow wondering if y/n would do as she said. A part of her says she wouldn't, but it wouldn't be out of character. If Barbara asked y/n to jump, she'd ask how high.

Being under Barbara's watchful eyes made y/n squirm but not crack. Not yet. "What? Do you think I'm going to, I dunno know, take over the world with lavender?" She laughed while Barbara kept a stone face.

A simple act made y/n crumble. When Barbara held her hand and said her name while looking at her with those blue eyes, who wouldn't crumble? Or slightly crack at the very least. y/n sighed, tilting her head back and her shoulders lost all tension in them.

"You've been stressed with work and I thought I'd just- I dunno. I didn't want to distract you or anything, so I made reservations for the massage parlor. I somehow burnt water trying to cook—" The woman cut y/n off with a deep kiss.

"What-?"

She didn't let y/n express her confusion. "Thank you. I appreciate it, but next time you can tell me to get off the laptop."

"Can I pull it out of your hands and throw it out the window?"

"Not if you want to pay for a new one."

She huffed, "That's fair, I suppose."

I'm sorry. This is so trash and I wasn't exactly sure what to write. I tried to push this out to focus on other things I'm currently writing. Thank the person who requested this for being such a sweetheart and I'm sorry it turned out like this.

[lgwifey]

Homesick Part Two

“Good enough for London”

human!Fem!reader x platonic!EdwardCullen

summary : Y/n’s dad had been given a new job offer, meaning she had to drag herself half way across the world to a town that shame was positive rained more than London had.

Part One

Y/n woke up the next day at 6:30 am, determined to beat jet lag and also needing to prepare for waking up early again in a few days when the schools started up.

Today's jobs where a bit easier than yesterdays, having her little schedule wrote up that's she'd scribbled down and then rewrote out pretty on the plane. She was already ahead of yesterday, having only thought she would have enough time to make her bed. Luckily the flat pack furniture was a bit easier than she expected it to be.

She started the day by unpacking the parcels of bedding that she'd ordered to the house before they'd moved over. She'd opened the duvet, pillows and mattress topper last night and left them to air out overnight to save half the day today being wasted.

Her light pink, crushed velvet ottoman bed sat just slightly not on the wall, a small bedside table sat between in and the bedroom wall, a medium sized window starting at the end of the bed. Y/n would be the first to mention her lack of strength, which meant the first job of dragging the double mattress topper onto the bed took longer than it would've for most. She dragged on a black satin bedsheet before standing on the bed with the duvet and the dark red cover, using all her height to try and make the process easier.

Soon enough the teenager managed to wrangle the bed all together, folding the spare sets of bedding and dropping them to the corner of one of the ottoman draws.

Black satin pillows were thrown at the headboard of the bed, then the blood red duvet and then a bundle of cushions that Y/n usually ended up kicking off the bed before she slept anyway. The whole bed was pulled together with a leopard print throw blanket that matched her large leopard print fuzzy rug which her dad had  picked up from a store in Seattle for her before she arrived.

The only furniture left to put together was the eight-ball beanbags she'd bought.

Once she'd admitted defeat and accepted that she was being moved to Forks Washington whether she liked it or not, she'd decided she was going to go all out on her bedroom and outfits. Plus, her parents felt horrible for moving her so she'd managed to get a few bonuses.

Kicking the leather beanbags into a corner, Y/n moved into the cardboard boxes for her home in London. She'd been convinced to get rid of most of her possessions by her mother. The words "you can always just buy new things when we get there" were going to be burned into her brain for a very long time.

The two boxes were carefully wiped of dust and unsealed with the scissors she'd left on her desk from yesterday.

It was just a few nicknacks, she didn't hold attachments to many things so the little she kept from England were carefully placed on the empty bookshelf in the corner. A few rolled up posters, a few book collections that her grandmother had gave her before the move, a few ornaments that she'd had from a baby and a few she'd found in charity shops and her prized CD collection and player.

It was quite a quick job, well it would've been if she didn't get distracted by the ornamental bells that she was organising for a solid twenty minutes.

After leaving her landline, a dark red lip phone, on her desk as a reminder to get her father to set it up when he got back from work, Y/n realised that if she wanted to get into some public appropriate clothes and do her makeup to go food shopping, she'd need to start unpacking her suitcases.

She let out a huff before flipping backwards onto her bed, the fresh covers crumbling around her tired body.

Her LED digital clock sat on her wall beside her bed, reading a miserable 11:46. Her friends wouldn't even be awake for at least another 4 hours.

Once again, she pushed herself to the large, hot pink suitcases that had been left behind her door when she arrived.

☆

When Harriet Grey went to go and check on her daughter in the morning, well nearly afternoon, she expected to find her daughter dying from jet lag like her, face still buried in her pillows and room still looking uninhabited.

Instead she found the girl with her face passed out in a half unpack suitcase.

The pyjama clad woman slowly shuffled over to where Y/n was sprawled up. Most of her wardrobe had been hung on hangers and place in the small walk-in wardrobe built into the bedroom. Her vanity had been organised with all her makeup, some of the draws left opening for Harriet to peek into.

"Y/n? Sweetie?"

Harriet had started to think that Y/n had suffocated on the socks her face had landed on, starting to leave to call an ambulance when she caught the crack caused by her daughter stretching her hand.

☆

"You don't think it's all... too much ?"

Y/n looked up from the zips on her pointed, heeled boots to where her mother stood with a worried expression plastered on her features.

"If it was good enough for London then it's good enough for this crummy little town."

The younger girl scrunched her features up as she finished zipping the boots that finished just before her knees, pressing down the fabric of the black micro mini dress as she stood up from the step she was balancing on.

"Well, the populations quite a lot smaller than London here Y/n."

She was met with a blank expression from her daughter, the girl flicking her hair over her shoulders as she shifted the leather blazer over her shoulders, moving to check her mobile was in her cherry red purse before they left the house for the food shop they desperately needed.

"That means that people talk. A lot."

"Mother. If everyone was scared of people talking about them Vivienne Westwood wouldn't have made it out of Chelsea. Now let's go shopping, last nights pizza was the start of a health kick for me."

The girl gagged slightly, forgetting how awful she felt after the grease dish, forced an end to the conversation with a dramatic hand clap, leaving the large and empty house to the driveway where her mother's shiny new Mercedes sat.

Behind her followed her mother, a tut and an eye roll as the older woman locked the double doors to the large, white panelled house. A bright flash of the lights told Y/n that the car was unlocked, leaving her to pull the passenger side door open and slide into the immaculate interior.

The drive to the grocery shop was much longer than Y/n had expecting.

"Another reason we should've stayed in England, everything's less spread out."

"Everything's more compact in London, the distance between places here is just a bit refreshing. You've got some lovely views here, and less air pollution. I know you value that."

The teenager rolled her eyes, slouching back into the seat more. "I also value my shoes and if I were to walk this distance their soles would be completely worn out."

Harriet bit her lip, a nervous habit she'd developed since she had to start convincing her daughter that the move was a good idea a year ago. "Did you know you can learn how to drive earlier here ?"

"I already know how to drive, dad taught me so I could pass as soon as I turn 17."

"Well then you can sit it as soon as me and your father find a driving teacher ."

The pale blonde woman gave a tight lipped smile, turning her head to focus back on the empty stretch of road.

"Yeah dad's already done that. I've got a test on Sunday so I can pass before school starts, it's way easier than the UK one too."

"Gave much thought to what car you want ? It seems like everyone here has trucks."

Y/n held back a snort at her mother's face at the mention of the popular vehicle around here. It was quite obvious that she didn't want a big pick up sat outside her new home.

"I was actually thinking about the new Audi a4 convertibles. Kate's sister got a silver one last year but they're bringing a red one out."

Harriet caught the begging stare that the miniature self was giving her in the corner of her eye. A unnoticed breath left her at the relief of not having a box with wheels next to her prized Mercedes .

"I'm sure your father could manage that one."

Part Three

Masterlist

[mirror-to-the-past]

Finished KH3 and Re:Mind- holy shitballs.

So *much* was happening throughout that climax, and so little of it was cohesive, and Re:Mind made it so a double narrative was taking place simultaneously alongside the base KH3 climax so yeah, it's going to be hard to discuss everything I probably would've wanted to while playing throughout those fateful final hours. I'm definitely going to accidentally skim over some details or questions I have, purely as a consequence of my head whirling.

The two biggest criminals here impacting my understanding of the plot are one- the aforementioned double narrative and two- the obfuscating nature of Sora's POV (like, the one that comes to the forefront of my mind at the moment was when he came out of the light tunnel with Kairi after resurrecting everyone via Power of Waking and looked off somewhere and appeared confused/surprised). Re:Mind explained what was going on in some suspicious moments where Sora looked like... haha I don't know how else to describe it except by saying he looked like he was dissociating? But yeah, that post light tunnel moment was not one of those so. 👀 Literally have no inkling what they might have been going with there- just a feeling of significance I can't shake. I got that a lot throughout the end of this playthrough. Pain.

The time travel in this game was one of the most bonkers usage of time travel I've seen in media, and I salute the writers for sticking to it and making their plot happen. I think my brain would've fried halfway through and I'd have cried at the keyboard. I am but a mortal stuck on a linear scale. This falls somewhat beyond me. I'll try my best to make heads or tails of it, though.

While the execution felt somewhat... sudden/rushed, I appreciated the follow-up on Sora's crumbling self esteem. 10/10 mini breakdown, you motivated Riku to such a degree that he got you spirited to the Final World- good job, lad. I know Naminé said that Kairi was the one keeping Sora tied to the Final World, but I had to wrap my mind around that statement, assuming its validity, because it felt a bit out of left field for me. I only mention this because after everything I saw (Riku's sacrifice shown twice, a good number of the star people who had very similar sounding sentiments to Riku [lemme tell you some of those stars were very telling], and I thought I was bullshiting on this one at first, but after rewatching the Final World's title card animation thingy, it ALSO looks a lot like a reflection of the composition of the Riku death scene), I felt a bit surprised that it was not said to have been Riku's contribution that kept Sora chained to the Final World- it would definitely have made sense given the context. However, Kairi's love and hope for Sora is definitely not to be dismissed, alongside Riku's love and belief in him, so upon thinking on it more, I see it as a "Riku saved and tethered Sora's heart to the Final World and Kairi helped Sora retain his form" kind of thing. And if you think about the presence of each character in Sora's life, their contributions under that lense would make sense:

Kairi is a symbol of home and memory, maintenance of stability. She would be the one to hold onto her memory of Sora- strong enough that he would maintain some level of physicality and semblance of mortal self, even in near death. Similarly to what Joshua said in DDD: "By ourselves, we're no one. It's when other people look at us and see someone- that's the moment we each start to exist. All they needed was someone to see them, connect with them." <- That fits pretty well with the situation.

Riku focuses more on new beginnings, and the casting away of things deemed as 'unnecessary' (body, home, companionship... debatablely happiness) for the sake of pursuing desires. It would match up with his history of possession and development where he learns relinquishing of control. Without Kairi's contribution, Sora would likely have just manifested as another faceless star person, as retaining Sora's heart would've been Riku's priority in that moment, regardless of what form he would take. (From moments before Riku's sacrifice- "We haven't lost them. They still have their hearts. But we have to protect them." Tie that into Riku's "Protect the things that matter" thing, and boom.)

So uh... go team! Sora may be determined to get himself killed, but with their powers combi- oh... (Looks at the ending)

Also I made sure the 111th Sora I grabbed was doing a funny little jig. I'm proud of me.

Here's a speculative blurb from a previous attempt at a KH3 climax post from earlier that ended up getting scrapped:

"Because of what Young Xehanort said (EN: the "It's already too late for you" line), now I'm wondering if Sora's being baited into an illusion where his friends are safe, because he couldn't handle a world where that wasn't the case, paralleling DDD ending. That, or Sora's just doomed himself by going to the Final World, using the power of waking a bunch and attempting to carry on, business as usual."

While I'm glad that it didn't turn out as bleak as the initial speculation, I do still wonder post ending if, given Xehanort's level of anticipation of his opponents' moves on a metaphysical level, he took advantage of Sora's insistence on breaking reality for his loved ones as a way to bait him and shove him out of the way forever, or if sending him to where it looks like Sora ended up was somehow more advantageous for his ambitions in the long run. And let it be known I predicted my boy was going to sorta-die due to his everything-ex-machina. I cracked jokes about it to cope throughout the entire finale.

Examples:

"Boy Riku, the air that I'm breathing in the Keyblade Graveyard sure is stuffy, but I feel immensely grateful for it for some reason. *coughs forebodingly*"

"Y'know Kairi, I think I'm down to reminisce with you for once. I just feel like I should really look at where life's taken me so far. Oh, no particular reason. Lovely weather today."

On a less upsetting note-

ROXASSS

XIONNN

YYEAHHHH BABEYY 😎😎😎

Literally lost my MIND when Roxas showed up. The hype I felt was immeasurable, and my day was made. The "Other Promise" rendition during the fight was sick, and Re:Mind did the Org. trio even more justice with their attacks. When Xion started crying post fight I was just like... same, babygirl. It was just a lot, and I'm so happy Roxas was yoinked back into existence.

Still extremely intrigued about all of the unknowns in the Org. XIII lore. You can't just take away all the cool guys again and not tell me anything new about them (Marluxia, Larxene, Demyx, Luxord). Especially after Xemnas previously made a big deal literally about how mysterious they all were. Dick. >:0

Very curious about when and how Luxord's wild card will come into play, considering it didn't get mentioned during Re:Mind, as I assumed it might in order to help Sora fix Kairi or perhaps get Sora out of his mess. KH4, maybe? 👀

Also XIGBAR MVP ONCE MORE LFG. OR SHALL I SAY, LUXU?? I really should've put two and two together for that one, because of how all-knowing Xigbar seemed to be at all times, but I wasn't particularly focused on figuring out Luxu's identity, so that's on me. Curious about how he summoned the Foretellers. Thought they were dead, for some reason, but I suppose there was no reason to assume so if Luxu was able to survive that long as well. Wonder what they've been up to? Ava noped out- wisest thing anyone has done this entire franchise, lol. I would assume the Book of Prophecies was inside the box, but as seen by the Union X stuff, Mr. Master was still enjoying prophetic light reading after he sent Luxu away, so all one can assume is that it's parts of the Book of Prophecies hidden away from everyone or perhaps another significant book altogether. We'll seeeee. *explodes*

Speaking of the Union X stuff, loved that moment where Ephemer phased into Sora's reality to stir the lingering wills of the deceased Keyblade wielders into action. I just felt so happy for what I assume were real players who are now forever immortalized in the game as people who come to your side to help you beat the tough baddie, y'know? I got a bit emotional- it reminded me of NieR:Automata. If you know, you know.

Riku and Xehanort's Heartless have finally finished their strange drawn out mentorship/insecurity demon/invasive clingy ex dynamic. I chuckled a little bit at Riku saying "I think I'll miss you." Oh dear, lol.

I love that one scene where all the Guardians of light minus Kairi and Sora were fighting in an Avenger-esque huddle in the sky, and they occasionally chatted with each other. Ventus complimenting Roxas made my heart warm. It's the little things!

Scala ad Caelum is so pretty! And fun to say, haha! It reminds me a lot of a The Mist/Sharlayan city lovechild from FFXIV. Very Mediterranean, bleached white coastal prettiness. Would live there- 10/10. Also, I appreciate the consistency of people's hearts manifesting physically as their homeland. You had Sora's heart in DDD as the island the kids played at in Destiny Islands, and now Xehanort where he was raised and trained (he felt more personal connection to it than say, Destiny Islands, where he seemed to have also spent part of his life). It's sweet, and a bit sad, as both have grown so estranged from their homelands.

The way I SCREAMED when I got to play as Kairi. So sad how she's been thrown into such a disastrous fray so suddenly after becoming a Keyblade wielder, her and Axel/Lea (I don't care about Merlin's time stopping magic man, I Know they needed more time) and suffered the most for it. She was really getting the Sora treatment of being talked down to by the villains (kudos to Axel/Lea, I love him so much for calling Kairi his trump card, they make me so happy), and being seen as easy pickings. It's so good that Sora was in her corner to help her, because like damn. Girlie went through it. And then she comes out the other end only for her best friend who risked life and limb for her to fucking DIE as a result of how hard he tried to make sure she was safe despite the universe working against her (gj for Sora finally stepping up as a Kairi bodyguard this game, by the way. About time 🙄 [I am light-heartedly referencing my own inside joke].)? DAMN. SHE'S PROBABLY GOING THROUGH IT EVEN MORE. Survivor's guilt, anyone? But yeah, anyway, her going "please work!" when fighting Xehanort was so sad... you're doing great, Kairi! Don't let anyone tell you different! Loved the "One Heart" attack her and Sora had! It was so pretty, and they're absolutely my little angels- they deserve the wings! Love how they're both like... the connection pieces between everyone, y'know? I love Kairi's attack pattern of her initial swipe being a long ranged hit that then zaps her to the target- thought that was great design! It was on par with Aqua's gameplay in this game, for me, and I admittedly like the feel of it a little more than Roxas' and Riku's. Side note- was Riku's AI as a party member just wack for me, or does he not have healing moves/items this game? I only ask because I remember how he was like 🫰 On It whenever Sora's health would drop a smidgen in KH2, but here he was like "I saved you in cutscene, if you die now, you die, fam."

That part in Re:Mind where Mickey becomes playable and gets a whole Price of Freedom last stand moment had me in tears, I was laughing so hard from the melodrama of it all. But also the music was genuinely beautiful. It's just... 😂 I'm sorry I loved it so much. I love these games, they're so ridiculous. If someone likes Kingdom Hearts, I can't help but assume they also have a brilliant sense of humor, as well.

Love how every day, Kingdom Hearts becomes more and more Doctor Who. That one battle line from Young Xehanort, the fanatical time traveling icon himself, where he stops time and says "Don't Blink" made me smile.

I really liked that one Vanitas line to Sora- "And I do stand by your side. I'm the shadow that you cast. How much closer could I be?" I am reminded that the main reason I love antagonistic characters is due to their cryptic and occasionally poetic speech patterns.

Speaking of antagonistic characters who are NOT poetic- Master of Masters my GUY! I am consistently delighted to see this guy on screen, he's so loveable- I don't care about his war crimes. Thought it was hilarious how he said "So you're saying the weak feel the need to justify their actions to maintain a sense of self." And it completely goes over Xehanort's head how hard he's justifying his intended actions in that scene. When a guy like the Master of Masters, who seems to pride himself on low involvement passively mentions your strong willed ideologies, I'd get the idea he's silently judging you in his head. "There's no class, really! What happened to letting human nature take its course? Kids these days just can't wait for things to fall into place over the course of millennia anymore." *Cracks open a cold one in the Keyblade Graveyard*

Oh also, Xehanort and Gaius van Baelsar from FFXIV are the same individual in goals and personality and that is immensely hilarious to me. They both have a propensity of taking in orphans that then go through psychological and physical trauma for his agenda, too. You don't understand him, guys! The weak were being propelled into a misguided agenda that controlled the masses, and SOMEONE needed to step up and be the voice of action that would allow the motherland- *ahem* Keyblade Wielders and the worlds to return to their true glory! All these teenagers and twenty-somethings raving to him about friendship and light are too sensitive- they'll give Keyblades to anyone nowadays, and he hates this new woke Keyblade society! Next time, on the Xehanort podcast-

As you can see, at this point in the post my sanity dwindles evermore. So, I'll finish by going over the last major thing that made me spiritually foam at the mouth a little bit:

SECRET ENDING CUTSCENE WAS SO WELL COMPOSED HOLY SHIT. Every single frame was desktop worthy. The LIGHTING. I also like how it looks more Final Fantasy, admittedly. The other style they had in the fancy cutscenes looked a little off-putting with everyone's porcelain doll eyes. But this one? MWAH. BELLISIMO.

The MUSIC. The COLORS. The red/blue thing Sora and Riku kept locking onto while they were gaining their bearings and trying to find each other? The warm/cool tones between each of the boys' sides, both still within an urban setting? The dynamic camera movement that started as slow, unfocused, lingering shots to reflect Sora's (especially) and Riku's disorientation of their new surroundings, all before switching to sudden, sweeping shots over the cityscape as the realization of their circumstances crashes down upon them? Them walking into each other's shots while looking around, showing how they're searching for each other even subconsciously? OH, OH, AND THE RED/BLUE THING CARRIED OVER FOR THE DEFINITELY NOT PLOT RELEVANT (it's not like the game drew attention to how he looks like Sora [I don't see it but whatever] and Riku, and this series has never made character designs plot relevant ever) HETEROCHROMIA IN THE VIDEO GAME GUY TOO, AND YEAH, HE'S THERE LMAO?? Literally did not have "the spoof Riku-esque character from the damn Toy Story World is important and potentially the MCs' secret lovechild" on my Bingo card, but I'm adaptable. I hope that once he and Riku meet there's a Spiderman meme moment. I also hope Sora's like "What? How am I talking to you? You're from a video game!" And Yozora is like "You also are from a video game" and we finally shatter this paltry meta narrative barrier we've been poking at once and for all. Give me more chaos, I must feed.

I was extremely confused as to why Riku was in the same place as Sora, and was like "maybe it's another DDD parallel world separating them from each other" thing, but still, how did he get there in the first place? But then I laughed as I envisioned the natural, sensible progression of this situation in a hypothetical post-Sora disappearance cutscene where everyone stares on, shocked, and Kairi wobbles down the Paopu tree, sobbing, to everyone else on the beach.

Kairi: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, he said he didn't have much time left, but he was happy to spend it with everyone, and he's happy I'm safe and- *sniff* and- I should've asked him something that could help us go after him and-"

Riku: "Don't worry, Kairi. I'll handle this."

Aqua: "Riku, we don't even know where to start, we need to assess the situation!"

Axel: "Aaaand, he's walking away."

Ventus: "What do you think he's planning on doing?"

Terra: "It's Riku. He's a man with a plan. He'll do what he has to to... uhm."

Axel: "Aaaand, he's walking into the ocean."

Kairi: "RIKU, NO-"

Naminé: "RIKU, YOU CAN'T DO THIS AGAIN-"

And from where I left off before getting mercilessly slaughtered by my first Data fight, it's now been a whole year of Absent Sora. Damn. One squad's in hell, Kairi might be in another coma, and Riku's probably gonna take up blindfolds again at this rate. What no Sora does to a mf part 2.

Riku: "We NeEd to BeLieVe in HiM. HiS hEaRt aNd HiS miNd aRe MaDe uP." *Puts his face in his hands* *Silently sobs*

[bberry005]

Episode 6 Thoughts

okay i love how the recent episodes have been focusing a lot on kit and her like character development through this whole thing. her world is quite literally being ripped out from under her (the arranged marriage, jade revealing that she let kit win, her brother being kidnapped) and this episode just added to the whole thing and then made it all make sense.

Kit and Madmartigan

kit's relationship with her father was definitely one of the central points of this episode. she loves her dad a lot despite the fact he's been gone for 10 years and she's willing to go into a place where she knows she'll get killed to try and save him. she wants to see her dad again, but mostly she wants answers about her past and why madmartigan even left them. also, kit taking madmartigan's sword and that now being her weapon was just such a cherry on top to the whole experience. kit wants to be like the madmartigan she knows from her childhood and from the stories and she doesn't want to deal with the consequences of him leaving and everything else.

Kit and Elora

WOW. let me just say, their argument at the end was spot on. we finally learned why kit doesn't like elora, and it's because in kit's mind, her own father was constantly choosing elora over her and her brother. kit doesn't want to be angry at her father because she admires him so much, so she projects that anger onto elora instead. so while kit's anger is justifiable, the fact that she's taking it all out on elora is not. because it isn't elora's fault. and elora has been so worried about what she kept hearing from the pit meant and now she finally knows and it's just confirmed all of her fears. that she's not great, she'll never live up to her destiny, and she's going to be the reason the world quite literally crumbles around them. also props to ruby cruz and ellie bamber the acting during that was SPOT ON. i loved it and it made me feel all the right emotions.

Boorman, Allagash, and Marmartigan

not much to say here other than the fact it contributes to the idea that we never know when boorman is telling the truth and when he's lying. it also helps show more sides to the story of how madmartigan went missing and the story of the cuirass

also, allagash saying "because he knew one of you would protect what's important up here: elora danan" was definitely the turning point that made kit snap

Other - we know kit is alive (thank GOD) because of the trailers. and we also know that her armor in the trailers is likely the cuirass. the cuirass is meant to protect, and i think the stuff with kit and the cuirass has a lot more meanings that i need to think about before i post anything about my thoughts - graydon this episode was so great. the way he was making sure elora was okay the whole time - the trolls were hilarious - READY for next week. the opening scene of episode 7 being the surface of the water breaking and jade diving in after kit would just be like perfect - airk just being like "nope" when he heard the spooky voice gave me hope that he won't succumb to the crone but the lady at the end is a little too suspicious for comfort

okay that's all for now but i'll DEFINITELY have more to say