#and it’s crap too but whatever do you know how many different colorings I had to go through to get something salvageable??

[theverakeller]

deeply hate my first gifset in actual years and it took me WAY TOO LONG to remember how to put text on the gif and lmao on top of that it’s wayyyy too fast for my liking but it was only like 22 frames I think so whatever but still I have many other scenes I want to gif from ep 1 but imma take tiny breather.

#like I spent an hour trying to figure out the text and I was on the phone with my friend the entire time just whining about it #THIS IS WHY I SHOULDNT STOP MAKING GIFS FOR LOMG AMOUNTS OF TIME #I forget vital #and it’s crap too but whatever do you know how many different colorings I had to go through to get something salvageable?? #but I love them your honor #placing this under #*hope watches masters of the air

[astteriskk]

An old and random Saiouma oneshot

One Month Ago…

“Saihara, have you read the latest paper?” Shuichi perked up to see his coworker standing in front of him, holding a stack of newspapers. “No, is there something I should see?” He asked. The coworker balanced the stack in one hand and took a paper off of the top with her other. Setting it on his desk, she backed away quickly. “We recently got a call about it. They want us on the case.” She said. Shuichi glanced down at the paper for a moment. The headline read out, “New criminal organization, D.I.C.E, performs heist on high scale bank!” D.I.C.E… A name that Shuichi never wanted to see again. Although he was told that that god-awful killing game was only a simulation and that everyone was alive, he just couldn’t believe it. Some of his friends didn’t even have bodies left. He had witnessed so many deaths that felt so real. So, when he was told that it was all fake? No way. He simply left the building and went off to be alone. And after that, he never saw anyone again. Not even Maki and Himiko. And the last person he wanted to see was Kokichi. Shuichi didn’t care about whatever he did to end the killing game. That boy was the embodiment of a lie. A specimen never to be trusted. A pathetic creature who would never have anyone to trust in. Trust works both ways. To believe in someone, you must believe in them. He gave up on believing in Kokichi a long time ago.  It doesn’t matter if his intentions were pure.

Current Time…

After a month of searching, Kokichi and his goons were finally brought in. And though Shuichi had thought of a million things he could say to Kokichi when he caught him, his throat was drier than the Sahara desert as he stood face to face with his old adversary. “What? Can’t talk? You know, I thought being caught by you would be more interesting.” Kokichi rolled his eyes as he talked, fiddling with the handcuffs that kept his hands stuck to the table. “Shut up,” was all Shuichi could say. “Come on, Shuichi. Aren’t you excited to see me? We haven’t met face-to-face like this in a year!” Kokichi giggled and stood, his hands still on the table. Shuichi walked around the table and glared at him. “What are you gonna do? Kiss me?” The shorter boy joked. But it was then that the two of them truly studied each other. Both of them had changed in different ways. Shuichi became more confident in himself and his work, and Kokichi was influenced by his friends enough to change his style. The group had stopped wearing uniforms but still dressed in the same colors black, white, and purple. Kokichi blushed as Saihara’s gaze flickered over his body. Today he wore black skinny jeans, platform checkered vans (due to getting teased by his gang about his height,) a white t-shirt, a chain necklace, and fishnet gloves. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a few pieces falling in the front.

Shuichi was stuck in a trance as he picked apart the differences between the Kokichi he knew and this one. Their personalities seemed to be the same. Though, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. But after a bit, he realized Kokichi was staring him down too. Shuichi was a bit embarrassed that he hadn’t dressed up as much as Kokichi did. He only wore black jeans, a black button-up, rings and crap, and sneakers. At least he didn’t look awful. But, for some reason, to Kokichi, the taller boy looked perfect. “Are you going to speak or are we just going to keep eye-f***ing each other?” Shuichi’s eyes widened at Kokichi’s words. He wasn’t… no… Shuichi was simply noticing how much he had changed. Yep. That was it. Shuichi sighed and went back around the table. “Listen, Kokichi. You’re going to be put in prison. And I probably won’t ever see you again. So, is there anything you would like to say to me?” Kokichi smiled and leaned forward over the table. “Sure. I love you, Shuichi. Is that what you were looking for?” He tilted his head with a lopsided grin. Shuichi growled and set his own hands on the table. “Shut up. You and I both know that’s a lie. You don’t love anyone.” As if a pin had pricked Kokichi’s heart, he retracted slightly and stood frozen in place. Did Shuichi truly believe that he was heartless? Sure, he may have lied quite a bit during the killing game but he did it for the greater good. He wasn’t a monster. At least, he didn’t think he was.

“It’s not a lie. Here, I’ll prove it. Uncuff me.” I held out his wrists, well sort of held out since they were cuffed to the table. Shuichi raised an eyebrow, scoffing a moment later. “And why would I do that?” Shuichi asked. Kokichi giggled and grinned. “Because I want to kiss you and it’s easier when I have my hands free.”  Shuichi’s eyes stretched as he frantically looked back over his shoulder to the sheet of glass that separated him and his coworkers. The three that sat behind the screen were just as shocked as he was, one of them covering their eyes in case they did kiss. “No. I’m not giving you what you want, Kokichi. I’m done.” Kokichi faltered, his eyes darkening for a second. The shorter boy sighed and chuckled a bit. “You are smart, Shuichi. But not as smart as you think you are.” Kokichi said no more, simply smiling at his old friend. Shuichi seemed confused but he did not ask questions, simply because Kokichi was exhausting and he wanted to be done with this interrogation. The worst part about this entire situation was that Shuichi felt a small urge to kiss Kokichi. Show him that he wasn’t as much of a coward as he was before. Shuichi leaned across the table, only a couple of inches away from Kokichi’s lips. “Don’t tell me what I am and what I am not. Only I know that.” Shuichi mumbled, internally smiling at the blush that spread across the shorter boy's cheeks. Kokichi shivered and silently prayed that Shuichi would inch just a little bit closer. He was almost there. And when he looked behind the tall boy, his coworkers had left. “No one’s watching us anymore,” Kokichi whispered, his breath ghosting over Shuichi’s lips. And all of a sudden, he heard a click. His handcuffs. Shuichi had undone them. Now, Kokichi could use this chance to escape. That thought had crossed his mind. But he was stuck in the trance that was Saihara’s gaze. Shuichi took hold of Kokichi’s cheek and pulled him closer until their lips connected. Kokichi was starstruck. Their lips moved together like clockwork. Shuichi reached over the table and grasped the shorter boy’s body, pulling him on top of it. Eventually, they pulled apart, panting. “I’m sorry,” Kokichi muttered. Shuichi was confused for a moment and didn’t realize what exactly the purple-haired boy meant until he was rushing out of the room with tears streaming down his face.

#saiouma #danganronpa #drv3 #kokichi ouma #shuichi saihara #danganronpa v3 #oumasai #shumai

[immersed-in-mischief]

Language Barrier- Part 2 of 2 (Male Loki x Gender Neutral Reader)

After realizing that he wasn't loving you in ways you understood based on your Love Language, he puts a plan in place to try to win you back. Will it be enough to fix the damage he has done?

4.1k words

Here is the fluff to balance out the angst in part one :)

Loki bit down on the cap of the highlighter and held it in between his teeth as he marked a particular passage that stood out to him. Each time he read it over the last few days, he found another insightful perspective that gave him a better understanding into the different ways of showing love. Just as he closed the marker and began to pick up where he had left off, a knock at the door broke his concentration. Knowing it was too early for you to be returning from the mission, he simply rolled his eyes and continued his reading, ignoring the visitor.

“Answer the damn door, Laufeyson. Don’t make me overwrite J.A.R.V.I.S. and let myself in anyways.”

He let out a growl and roughly dropped the book in the pile of papers and open books surrounding him on the floor and carefully stepped over his mess to make his way towards the door. Giving the man his best fake smile, he cracked the door enough to speak to him without giving him the impression that he was welcomed inside.

“Stark. How lovely to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”

Tony was the one to roll his eyes this time and crossed his arms over his chest to match the god’s stance in the doorway.

“Yeah. Let’s just skip the pleasantries, Lucky Charms. You, Cap, Thor, Romanoff. Helipad. 6 am.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Already heading back down the hallway, he called back over his shoulder and didn’t bother to turn around.

“After the muscle get you and your lovely assistant in the door, work your Houdini crap and bring back the Ark of the Covenant or whatever Fury said to pick up. Uncle Sam will brief you on the jet. Sweet dreams, Princess.”

With a frustrated sigh, Loki forcefully closed the door and leaned against the back of it as he surveyed the scene in his chambers. Papers with various ideas and notes rested on nearly every surface and if he didn’t know any better, it looked as if there had been an earthquake centered underneath his bookcases. Nearly every shelf had multiple gaps with the bound objects now lying open and scattered across the floor with tabs of every color delicately marking their contents.

Over the past three days, he had nearly memorized the newly discovered guide to winning you back and had just started pulling together his plan early this morning as the sun was beginning to rise. You weren’t due to return until tomorrow afternoon, but with his unexpected mission, his timeline had just been bumped up by nearly twelve hours. Loki ran his hands across his exhausted face and groaned into his palms before observing the mess once more.

“Norns, I hope this works, darling. If it’s words you need, I’ve got thousands of them now…”

The entire flight back, you only seemed to grow more nervous and anxious. The mission had gone perfectly and S.H.I.E.L.D. now had the evidence they needed to take down three more Hydra bases. With you and Bucky taking turns monitoring the movement across the street from your hidden perch in the hotel across the street, it was one of the more relaxing missions you had been on in some time. The days had been filled with long conversations and far too many laughs during the long hours. While you enjoyed the break, your mind would still often drift off to thoughts of Loki and the morning you had left.

Before the jet had even left the New York skyline, you regretted not telling him goodbye. There had been so many times that you thought about him and wondered when he noticed that you had already gone… if he had even noticed at all. Had he read your note? Did he even care? Was he relieved to not have to pretend that he would miss you or wish you good luck like he actually meant it?

The common floor of the tower was eerily quiet as you made your way down the hall towards your room. Opening the door, you were hit with a wave of sadness as you looked around the space. It had once been a space you cherished, but now that you had essentially been living in your boyfriend’s room for the last few months instead of your own, the room felt like a reminder that the chapter of your life was over. This would once again be your own space and it was time to gather the items you had slowly transported to his and bring them back to yours.

After showering first, you could no longer put off the pain and took a deep breath before making your way a few doors down to his room. Normally you would just walk inside, but somehow that felt like crossing a line now. With a timid knock, you waited for him to open the door and allow you in. As you waited for the knob to turn, you wondered about what waited for you on the other side. Would he be annoyed to see you? Would he be expecting someone else? Maybe he even already had your things packed for you to make the transaction shorter.

When he didn’t answer, you tried knocking again before slowly testing the handle to find it unlocked.

“Loki? Are you home?”

Even though a lamp was lit on his desk across the room, he didn’t appear to be around. For just a split second, you were glad that he wasn’t. This way you wouldn’t have to face him. The absence of your belongings would be enough to convey the ending of something that had been so special to you. It would be extremely difficult, but the tower was a big place and since he always hung out in the same spots, you knew exactly how to avoid him while you took the time to heal.

You had just gathered your items from the nightstand and was making your way to the bathroom to get your toiletries when an envelope against the base of the lamp caught your attention.

To My Beloved

It had been so long since he had called you by the name that it took your breath away for a moment. Thousands of memories flooded back over the last year together and the years of friendship before that. The happier times held a sacred place in your heart, but they had become tainted over the dark times recently when you began to wonder if they were no longer part of your life together.

With trembling hands, you set your things down on the desk in front of a tall stack of books and slowly opened the thick envelope, unsure what exactly you would find inside.

I am truly sorry.

Above all things, I need to say those words first, even though you deserve so much more than those four. There are countless things I need to apologize for, but I will start with the most important thing. I have not loved you in the ways you have needed, and I have failed you more times than I wish to admit. Darling, I know I have broken your heart and you are most likely gathering your things right now. If you still hold any affection for me, please wait. Don’t remove your presence from my chambers just yet and allow me one last chance to prove my love to you.

I wish I could say all of this to you in person right now, but I have been called away on a mission and sadly will be missing your return to the tower this afternoon. In my heart, I know that this letter may fall short in convincing you to stay after all the pain I’ve caused you. Just know that I am truly ashamed of the man I have been, and I promise to be better for you and to you.

Stark claims it will be a short mission and I should only be gone for the majority of the day, but we both know how unpredictable our plans can be when it comes to our responsibilities. Until I return, I have marked several passages in the books on my desk that I feel express my love and adoration for you. I also know how important music is to you and since I am unable to create a list of songs in the program you use on your phone, I have done the next best thing and written them down for you instead. Consider it my own playlist in the only way I know how to create one. The songs I have chosen for you all convey my feelings using the words that I don’t have right now.

While these things could not possibly show you the depths of my love, I hope that they can be a start in rebuilding what I have broken. I love you more than you could ever possibly know, Dear Heart, and I never want to see the day that I lose what we have. Especially when my actions were to blame.

I will be counting down the minutes until I can return home to you.

Forever yours,

Loki

The tears in your eyes had begun to come from relief instead of sadness as you held the letter to your chest and tried to steady your breathing. It felt like a breath of fresh air to hear that he didn’t want this outcome. While you were still scared of getting hurt, the thick parchment in your hands gave you a glimmer of hope.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you picked up the first book on the top of the stack and opened it to find a folded stack of papers matching the letter you had just read. A smile crept across your face to see the long list of songs that lined the pages.

Loki’s playlist.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of it. He had always enjoyed telling you songs he wished for you to add to the various lists that you had going in your Spotify account that the two of you ended up sharing. It was something that had started soon after your friendship had begun to blossom. Showing him new songs he hadn’t heard was a favorite pastime for the two of you as you sat and talked for hours at a time. He had rolled his eyes at first that you would have different lists of music for different activities in your life such as cleaning, taking a shower, or relaxing in your room, but you secretly knew he was intrigued by it.

Pulling your phone out of your back pocket, you quickly began adding the songs to a new playlist. The hours of music was quickly building as you flipped over the first page to the next, recognizing most of the titles, but equally unfamiliar with some as well. The theme was quite obvious though. They were all ones that expressed loved through their lyrics and melody and you couldn’t wait to listen to them.

Loki didn’t even allow the gate on the back of the quinjet to fully open before he was stepping out of it and onto the helipad after impatiently tapping his foot against the metal grate flooring for the last twenty minutes of the flight. The rest of the team was just as exhausted as he was and didn’t appreciate the way he paced back and forth down the middle of the plane, so he angrily stood at the back and allowed the click of his boot against the hard surface to drive them out of their minds instead.

It was much later than he had planned to return, but he wasn’t surprised that this day hadn’t gone according to plan. As much as he hoped that you had read his letter, there was no guarantee that you had seen it, let alone stayed up this late to wait for him to come home. His stomach was tied in knots as he made his way straight to your room, hoping you were not only awake, but willing to hear him out.

When you didn’t answer on his first quiet knock, he slowly opened the door and slipped into the dark room.

“Darling? Are you awake?”

He received no response and grew nervous that you were ignoring him. Standing perfectly still, he listened for the sound of your breaths to determine if you were asleep, awake and angry, or sadly crying. The silence was not what he was expecting and reached for the light switch beside him to confirm his suspicions.

Finding the room empty, he scanned the room to locate any clues as to your whereabouts. The duffle sitting on the bed told him that you had indeed returned from your mission and that brought him some relief to know that you were safe. It was only when his inspection shifted from what was in the room to what was not in the room that he renewed his hope. There was still an absent pillow on your bed, an empty nightstand, and a fairly low volume of books on the shelf above your desk.

You hadn’t brought your belongings back to your room from his…

Loki didn’t bother turning out the light or even closing the door as he raced down the hallway towards the room he had been sharing with you. The sight of the bedroom door flying open seemed to startle you and caused you to let out a small shriek of surprise. His eyes immediately located your figure on the floor in front of his desk. Seeing you sitting with your legs crossed and a circle of books and pages surrounding you mirrored the position he had been in the previous evening as he furiously organized and gathered all the quotes, passages, and songs he wished to share with you.

When you pulled the earbuds out, he recognized the melody from “Best Part of Me” by Caleb Hearn softly playing from them. Seeing the pages spread out beside you that contained the list of songs, he realized you had built the playlist in your phone and had been listening to the songs he had chosen as you sat there engrossed in all of the poems and passages earmarked especially for the love of his life. With tears streaming down your face, you stared up at him with a confused and overwhelmed expression.

“L-Loki? How did you…. Why… What is all of this?”

His eyes never left yours as he crossed the room and dropped to his knees before you. With one hand, he slid the items away so he was able to plant himself directly in front of you without anything in his way. His lips curled into a sweet smile as his own tears began to flow. Loki reached up and held your tear-stained cheeks in his hands and was pleased when you reached up and covered his hand with yours.

“I am refilling your tank, my love…”

The spell of the moment was broken, and your expression morphed into absolute confusion, and you furrowed your brows, your tears now long forgotten.

“What tank? And you’re refilling it? What the hell are you even saying right now, Loki? Did you hit your head on your mission today? Are you feeling alright?”

When you moved to stand, he held your wrist before you could walk away and sighed, pinching his brow, and replaying how insane he just sounded.

“Sweetheart, will you please sit and let me explain?”

He heard you let out a long deep breath before you stepped back and sat down on the bed beside you. With you now seated in front of him, he sat back on his calves and held both of your hands in his as he stared up into your eyes from his place still on the floor.

“I must sound entirely foolish, but in my defense, it has been an extremely tiring day and an even longer week. The short explanation is I am refilling your love tank with words of affirmation in order to express my love to you in a language that speak to you as the unique and exquisite creature that you are. The longer version is a little more complicated than that I’m afraid.”

The confusion on your face only deepened until you recalled the morning you left and the quiz you took with Natasha and Wanda.

“As in the quiz? How did you even know about that and what exactly does a tank have to do with any of it?”

Licking his lips nervously, he swallowed hard before revealing the part of the story that might upset you.

“I admit that it wasn’t very honorable of me, but I was there that morning. After I read the note that you had left on my pillow, I enabled my cloaking spell in order to read in my spot of the common room without being disturbed. I was present for the quiz and the conversation surrounding it.”

He didn’t give you a chance to get angry with him before he immediately tightened his grip on your hands and placed a gentle kiss on them and continued with the more important part of the story.

“While it was not right of me to eavesdrop, I do not regret my decision for one second, because it showed me just how much I have failed you, Beloved. I was shown just how little I knew about loving you and was standing beside you when you chose to leave without telling me goodbye. I was there to see the heartbreak in your eyes as you decided that I wasn’t worth your time or energy. Even though you didn’t realize it at the time, you were telling me just how empty and unloved you felt and for the first time, I was listening…”

The realization made you gasp, and you found it impossible to keep the eye contact with him as the tears built up once more. Pulling your hands away from his to wipe your eyes, your bottom lip started to tremble as you tried with all of your might to hold yourself together.

“Darling, please look at me…”

Seeing you fighting his request, Loki sat up to make himself eye level with you and lovingly grasped your chin between his thumb and fingers to turn your attention back to his face.

“I know I have hurt you and I will forever be shameful for doing so. That doesn’t mean that you can’t still find safety and security with me. Over these past few months, I have loved you the way I wish to be loved and not how you should be loved… After I missed my chance to make things right before you left, I spent the last few days reading and rereading the book that Natasha mentioned. At first, I read it at the library and then decided that once wasn’t enough. I then went to that god-awful giant box you call a bookstore and purchased my own copy of the book to bring home with me.”

You watched as he let go of one of your hands to reach behind him and pull open the top drawer of his desk. Reaching inside, he retrieved a very worn copy of The Five Love Languages. The spine was now curled in such a way that it no longer sat closed and as he placed the item in your hands, the edges of the pages revealed hundreds of yellow marks from what appeared to be a highlighter. If he hadn’t just said that the book was purchased days ago, you would have assumed it was years old.

“This item was the first step in me learning how to properly love you, Darling. Throughout my study of this book, I learned that I am a combination of Receiving Gifts and Physical Touch. That means that I best feel love by gift giving, no matter how big or small, extravagant, or inexpensive the gift may be, along with being in close contact with the one who holds my heart. I feel the most love when I am able to hold you in my arms, kiss you until you are breathless, and worship your incredible body. This book also taught me that I am most likely this way because of being starved of affection as a child and feeling ignored by those closest to me. Anytime you gave me a book that you thought I would enjoy or played with my hair as we laid together on the couch and talked for hours, I was receiving love from you and wasn’t aware of it at the time. At the same time, I felt the need to continue to carry on the conversation in order to keep your fingers twisting through my curls. Those conversations were showing you love in ways that I just now am beginning to understand. Once we began to show our affection in other ways, I was still receiving the love I was craving in much more intimate ways, but those long conversations became shorter and less frequent over our time together.

The book you are holding states that we each have a love tank, similar to a fuel tank on a car. If the tank is no longer being filled, it will eventually become empty. When one lover’s tank is close to empty, they begin to feel it’s effects and no longer attempt to fill their partner’s tank as well. Eventually… we both ran out. The distance between us frightened me and I lashed out. I promise on all the nine realms that I had no idea just how much my harsh words and criticism were truly affecting you, my love. I have been blind to your needs for much longer than is ever acceptable… I plan to change that.

This book has shown me a few examples of how to express my love to you in ways that you understand. How to speak your language if you will. While I couldn’t find all the words myself, I hope it is alright that I have turned to the words of others to show my affection. There have been so many quotes from novels or poems I have read over the years that remind me of you and how much I love you with every fiber of my being. I also know how much you love your playlists, so I used some songs I have learned from you, some I have loved for a long while, and even some new ones that I have found in my research this week.

I know this is just the first step in working towards earning your forgiveness and trust, but I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days showing you just how much you are loved in ways that you understand and need. I just hope that one day I am blessed enough to have you wear my ring and agree to forever by my side. Please tell me I’m not too late. Please say you will give me the chance to fix the damage I’ve done.”

Loki reached up and held your cheeks as he stared into your eyes. His voice cracked with emotion as he was barely able to form the words.

“Don’t make me live without you…”

He watched as you slowly closed your eyes and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. For a few quiet minutes, you simply cried together at the pain you both felt. Loki didn’t have time to register the feel of your hand on his jaw before you were tilting his face back up to yours and pressing your lips to his. The kiss was gentle and sweet, but enough to allow him to take a deep breath for the first time in ages.

“I love you, Loki. So very much.”

With a wide grin on his face, his hand shifted to the back of your neck as he stole the breath from your lungs. The kiss was powerful and intense and full of so much promise.

“I love you too, my sweet. Every single breathtakingly beautiful, intelligent, funny, and insanely sexy part of you.”

You let out a giggle as he pulled you down from the bed so you were sitting in his lap in the bedroom floor, surrounded by all of the words he could find in a short amount of time to express his love for you. As you wrapped your arms and legs around his body and leaned in for another earth-shattering kiss, you still weren’t exactly sure what a love tank was, but you knew the man you loved was going to try with all his might to keep it full.

#loki fanfic #loki #loki fluff #loki angst #loki x gender neutral reader #loki laufeyson #loki fandom #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfiction

[somuchyoudontknow]

In the beginning I was the first 💙 I sent a random post about celebrity and the entertainment industry culture…..no info, no sources, nothing pertaining to Chris and then I noticed a few days later a new 💙 who eventually became the infamous 💙💚 who claimed to have and send them inside info pertaining to Chris and what not. I was alarmed that Capt would possibly think this was all coming from me, so I sent an anon trying to explain how I know nothing and I’m not sure who this blue heart person is giving them info is but please don’t mistake them for me……she never posted nor responded to my ask.

But all of a sudden due to other blogs sending in fake stuff using the different color hearts….they stopped the hearts crap.

I also noticed how they’d say something would not happen and then at the last minute twist and turn things to an “if”

Example: the Ghosted Premiere

They claim Alba and Chris would NEVER be seen in public ever again and how he could not stand her.

Days before the premiere the 💙 anon came and said the fandom should prepare…she “might” be there.

Then the day of the premiere they got bold and claimed she’s not there and she’s not allowed to be there, then boom pics came out and all of a sudden there she was and they claimed she forced her way into the premiere.

This is what they do because they know absolutely NOTHING, then when whatever happens, happens they run a new narrative to go along with real life.

It went from Alba isn’t coming to she forced her way to the premiere and Chris was mad ….yet there’s video of Alba laughing with Chris and Megan. Yet others claimed Chris was “angry”, …..he looked fine.

Tell me where they were right about something SPECIFICALLY BEFORE it actually happened.

They wait for the actual outcome and then twist the story to their benefit.

I had been iffy of them and never let my trust fully go into them especially with the way they’d respond to others. I’m like if you have legit sources and you want to share the info you either post evidence that won’t give away your source or you speak your truth and move on like Edwin Jusino did.

But these blogs stayed online all times of the day arguing and name calling, these are sad women who took their obsession with Chris too far.

They claimed in April a breakup would happen and the main media has a breakup article written up or outlined ready to go.

There is a reason neither of the blogs have an archive, people would see the discrepancies and call it out. They are vile people and I’m glad I never trusted them. They seemed knowledgeable on the industry in the beginning up to a certain point and that’s when I went….hmmm 🤔, but seeing this current mess proves they know nothing.

First of all no one and I mean NO ONE from Chris’ team is spilling things about him online or else they’d be let go.

Chris personal life and his family should be off limits.

These blogs, lonesome and others running around screaming sources told them this and that are all gullible individuals who fell for trolling.

Chris’ legit life details are not getting leaked, PERIOD!!!!

"First of all no one and I mean NO ONE from Chris’ team is spilling things about him online or else they’d be let go."

I think the sooner the people start believing this, many things will become clear to them.

#fandom bs

[kharmii]

*sigh*

When you thought things have cooled off again someone has to whack the anti-beehive yet again and call out pro shippers 😑

Hope nothing is thrown in your way but I am truly amazed by how well you deal with this here! Really if I wasn’t so terrified of being targeted with harassment not only supporting you (even if my thoughts on shipping are a little bit different <not into ships but everyone should be free to ship whatever if it’s making them happy and they don’t actively hurt others>) but also agreeing with you on so many topics that you’ve shared.

I know there must be more people out there just too afraid of the harassment that they could receive but agreeing as well! Keep up the good fight and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!

I knew it! I knew there had to be some sort of drama going on somewhere I didn't know about. This morning, somebody sent me this message out of the blue that said, "You're disgusting. Don't reblog my art. Being autistic doesn't make you a terrible person." They then blocked me. This individual is a Volo artist who does reasonably good sketches but not good on backgrounds. I habitually reblogged their stuff because they are a committed Volo fanatic.

Out of curiosity, I went on the Volo Nation Discord to ask this person what that message was all about. I jokingly said something like, "The sneaky little spiders of the SJW whisper network must have started some drama. The traffic on my blog ebbs and flows because of this, and now recently, I'm at a descent". Whisper networks would be useful if the women involved called out actual rapists and sexual predators, but amongst the radical left, they're usually petty (fake males) biological females who gossip about people who disagree with them politically.

What do you know, but my intuition was right! -Turns out the message wasn't about autistic people at all. A bunch of them got pissed about my transgendered stance and had a cabal in a locked Discord channel. I got bombarded by the girlies (who will assuredly grow up someday and fall into heteronormative lifestyles) who all had to tell me about how they were 'non-binary' and whatever crap. I told them I was bored and left. When I peeked in just now, I noticed they booted me, which is fine because the algorithm on Twitter is better at throwing me good Volo art.

Srsly tho, transgendered people are BORING. Nobody gives a damn about transgendered people except other transgendered people. Nobody cares about your snowflake gender, unless you are super hot like the God-Emperor of Fuckableness. Then you can say whatever goofy shit you want, like, *flips hair* "I'm Giratina-gendered, and someday I'm going to subjugate the power of Arceus and kill every last mother fucker on this entire planet!" *does cute little skip*

Emmet: *eyes pointing off in different directions* That's really interesting honey! *pats ass* You can do whatever you want, and later you can throw on that cute chiffon tunic with the shoulders cut out so I can run my autistic trains gendered man meat down your subway tunnel. Keep some ice packs handy!

Anyway, where was I. Oh yeah, transgendered people are boring af. It's no wonder people in most of the fandoms I'm in have nothing better to write about than stupid werewolf porn because they can't think of actual good stories. Worrying about genders is the equivalent of how boring people with no personalities have to dye their hair funky colors and get piercings to be interesting. My guy Dabi is like that. His douchebag dad Endeavor didn't let him go to school and build character, so now he had nothing better to talk about than how many piercings he has on his dick, or how he likes to start fires, or how he wants to murder his douchebag dad for ruining his life. At least he isn't so boring all he wants to talk about is his stupid fake gender because he doesn't look like the kind of guy who gives af about what people think of him.

#send troll prompts #volo #dabi #at least there's no omegaverse #the usual bullshit #whisper network #srsly tho #emmet #fandumb fail #the god emperor of....you know #trans people are boring #stop it #trainwreckshipping

[krsonmar]

My theories about why Nandor hasn't vampirized Guillermo yet mostly center around a theory I have that Nandor likes Guillermo's humanity. Like for one thing, yes, he gets to be in proximity every day to the stuff Guillermo does that Nandor misses about being human and living with humans: any drama Guillermo encounters is more likely to be a fresh new experience for him and his reactions won't be those of someone who's lived for a couple hundred years and seen this or that thing before, and Guillermo has the urgency of being mortal and knowing he has limited time on earth, which I bet, since Nandor has mostly been living with and among other vampires for the past 700 years, seems like Guillermo lives more in color than Nandor's stale black-and-white rerun life.

And there’s probably something pretty cool to a vampire, not just in a I’mmunnaeatchyoo way, but in a beauty-of-life or, given these two’s dynamic, a sexually attractive way, about getting to be around a living human body; Nandor can probably feel the pulse in Guillermo’s veins at times or smell the changes in biochemicals and hormones in Guillermo’s blood when his emotions change, and maybe he can even pick up a little of Guillermo’s body digesting or reacting to food when he eats, and if you miss being able to eat bread or steak, there might be like a little vicarious enjoyment or wistfulness in watching someone else just carelessly munch on a bag of Doritos or whatever. We don’t know if the vampires in Shadows have different sensory experiences--or perhaps more precisely, if they lose their human sensory experiences when they ”trade them in” for vampiric ones--but maybe taste works differently, or enjoying a warm fireplace or a purring kitty or a cool, moist night breeze feels a little muted compared to being alive, and so watching Guillermo mumble that he needs another sweater or seeing his breath frost or watching him enjoy the sugar in a piece of candy--maybe even watching him be hungry--is a nice thing to have around. But mainly, I think Nandor likes that Guillermo isn’t afraid of him. He very plainly isn’t--other vampires obviously think their relationship isn’t formal enough and this is probably part of it--and he never has been, as is clear from how they met. Can you imagine being a vampire for 700 years, having to live on the fringes and camouflage yourself among your prey because when they figure you out you’ll have to find someplace else to eat, skulking in the shadows of night because the sunlight during the hustle-and-bustle of daytime will kill you, and one day you’re doing your prowling on the perimeter of society, lurking out by the dumpster in a secluded alleyway to get your munchings and crunchings on, and OH CRAP HERE COMES SOMEONE OH FRICK IT’S A HUMAN FRIG HE SEES US GET READY TO TURN INTO A BAT AND FLAP AWAY OR MAYBE WE CAN HYPNOTIZE HIM GOOD BEFORE HE SUMMONS THE MOB AND THEIR TORCHES...but instead it’s this chubby-cheeked 18-year-old with braces (I am solidly behind the fanon that says Panera Bread!Guillermo had orthodontic braces) with wide eyes shining with excitement, his voice cracking and getting shrill with the incredulity that his dreams are real, going, ”Are you guys really real vampires?!” He’s not terrified, he doesn’t whip out a crucifix at you or try to chase you off or stake you, he practically trips over himself tearing over as fast as his legs can carry him and wants to know everything about you and looks at you not like you’re the stuff of his nightmares come true but like you’re his wildest, most long-shot prayers answered.

And normally you don’t get too attached to The Help--you’ve lived so many of their lifetimes and learned quickly not to find out too much about each one because it’s like giving your heart away to a pet goldfish, they die so easily--but this kid’s earnest, overbridling enthusiasm and take-me-with-you pleas to let him be your familiar because he’ll be so good at it, you won’t even know he’s there, and yeah yeah, bodies, whatever, sure, that way he’ll be ready for when *he’s* a vampire...sort of make you go ”awww”. Your dead little heart--still not as dead as you’d like (and maybe it doesn’t have to be quite that dead after all?) wants to pick him up and take him home and give him a name and a bowl of milk and a warm bed like some stray kitten. And your roommates are sighing because they can see the look on your face and they don’t want to have to be the ones to remind you that you’re going to have to either kill him now or hypnotize him to make him forget this...to make him forget his dream coming true... ...and so what other choice do you have? He wants to be a vampire, fine, but you’ll delay that as long as you can. You’ll try to keep an emotional distance from him--and fail miserably at it, because how could you not?--and try to mitigate it by always stomping on his toes a little bit, metaphorically speaking, and by reminding him constantly that he’s not a vampire...and maybe he thinks that’s cruel, and you certainly want him to think so, but it’s also the highest compliment you can give him, the thing you adore about him the most, almost a backhanded way of showing affection for him: ”You are not a vampire, though.” You have to remind him constantly that he’s different from you: he’s alive, so beautifully, achingly, delicately, explosively, tempestuously and impulsively hot-blooded and alive, and you cherish him for that. There’s no way you want to take that away. He’s not afraid of you in all your vampiric gore and you’ll go to the ends of the earth for him because of that.

#wwdits #wwdits fx #nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #nandermo #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #Headcanon

[frogtanii]

I READ BLUEBERRY ANON’S ASK THE OTHER DAY AND IT’S SO BIG BRAIN I HAD TO WRITE IT.... i was really inspired so i got a bit out of hand and went above the word count i was aiming for oops

“Woahhh.” Your eyes sparkle with excitement as you rummage through Oikawa’s makeup bag - you had no idea such an average sized makeup bag could hold so much color and chaos. “This is so... boujee.”

Oikawa raises a brow. “Boujee?”

“Yeah,” you say with a shrug. “I bought three different lipstick shades for $10 the other day and I felt guilty afterwards... but these? These are so expensive.”

Guilty.

The brunette instantly deflates, because he’s played a role in that - in you not having enough money to splurge on as many lipstick shades as your heart desired. Quickly, he recounts the days where he ran his mouth about you right to Iwaizumi, Meiko, and your face... all because he so desperately wanted to feel important.

But look where that got him.

“You can have it,” he tells you, gesturing to his vast collection of cosmetics. “As much as you want. I don’t care.”

Your eyes flicker over to his face, and he’s uncharacteristically serious. Though you may not know Oikawa all that well as of right now, you know that that is his way of expressing sincerity - seriousness.

But you don’t like it - this tension that’s suddenly filling the air. In fact, you’re tired of it, because it’s all you’ve been having for the past few months or so.

“Nah, it’s alright,” you reply, voice light. “You’ve probably used up a lot, and I don’t want your cooties.”

Oikawa snorts, and to your relief, the heaviness is gone.

“Rude,” he mumbles, before landing his hands on his camera. “Then, let’s get started, okay?”

The camera starts rolling, and Oikawa is quick to get into character. He’s a natural at speaking to his audience, recalling stories from his past as he dabs makeup onto your face, and most of all, making you feel like you belong here, right next to him.

Whatever worries from beforehand about not being talkative enough, or not being lively enough to keep up with Oikawa’s grand makeup videos is long gone, and instead, you find yourself exchanging banter with him in such an... organic way.

He truly is amazing.

30 minutes in, you two are talking about your favorite clothing brands before you realize he’s complete with your look, and now, it’s your turn to make him look pretty.

(As if he wasn’t already beautiful.)

You didn’t have a plan for this, to be quite honest. But now that you’re here, right in front of a camera, you can’t help but regret not thinking this through beforehand.

Taking a deep breath, you analyze his features, all while recalling the makeup techniques you’ve learnt over the years. You may not be as skilled as he is, but you can at least try.

“Get in there,” he sings playfully, as if sensing your tension.

You roll your eyes. “Okayyy.”

Oikawa closes his eyes, mentally preparing for... whatever’s coming next. Again, he still has so much to learn about you - one of them being how you feel about his character.

Part of him still worries that inwardly, you’re taking him apart, scrutinizing his feminine nature. After all, that is all he’s known for months.

It’s always, ‘you’re too flashy’, ‘too extravagant’... ‘too much’.

But this is simply how he is as a person - flashy, extravagant, and a hell of a lot to put up with it.

He’s not harming anyone, so why should he try changing? Why did he try changing?

Before his thoughts pile further, he flinches in surprise at how gently your hand touches his jawline. Though his eyes are closed, he can reckon that your gaze is as soft as your touch.

“Y’know, I envy you,” you say quietly. “You have such a nice face for makeup.”

Oh, this was not what he was expecting. “... Do I?”

“Yeah. Defined cheeks, long lashes, nice lips... it pisses me off.”

... Is he dreaming?

Had it been long before he agreed to be part of the Hype(r) House, he would’ve laughed and cracked a flirty joke. But these past months have hardened him, took his glamour and life and replaced it with self image issues and broken friendships.

To you, it’s just mindless rambling.

But to him, it’s acceptance, appreciation, and reassurance all fitted into a few words.

To him, it’s a testament to how you simply don’t care that this is what Oikawa enjoys, and this is exactly what he’s been longing for for too long - for someone in the house to just... not care. To let him be himself.

Oikawa can’t feel anything for the next few minutes - not the feathery strokes across his eyebrow, and definitely not the tear that falls down his cheek.

Immediately, you drop your brush and wipe the tear away with your finger. “Crap... Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he answers without wasting a second. “You never have...”

He opens his eyes, and they’re red and fresh with tears threatening to implode. They’re lonely, and marked by insecurity.

They’re nothing like what Oikawa Tooru presents himself to be.

The brunette does not know how you’ll react to him pulling you into an embrace, but he wants so badly to hold you in some sort of way. Instead, he settles for your gentle hands, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing.

One squeeze for ‘thank you’.

Two squeezes for ‘I’m sorry’.

Three for ‘I appreciate you’.

“You’re a good person, you know that?” He asks.

You frown, but in concern. “I try to be.”

Oikawa smiles, lifting both his and your hand up to his lips to give your knuckles a light kiss. “You don’t even have to try, honestly.”

After a few moments, he tears his gaze away from you, only to find the camera still blinking red from afar. He makes a mental note to stop the recording.

And then he makes another mental note - to say the rest off camera.

- chai

#chai... honey... sweetheart #i wish you could see me rn cs i cannot express through words how you just made me feel #tears ACTUAL tears in my eyes #you are so talented it’s insane #i <3 your writing and you #j’s submissions :) #chai anon #℗ poker face #submission

[thefanficmonster]

Matured

Corpse Husband & Little Sister Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Sibling Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse’s search for a roommate ends shortly after his little sister calls him, telling him she’s moving out of her high school dorm in the suburbs following her graduation to attend college in San Francisco.

Requested by @bugger2002  Hi darling! Thank you so much for this adorable request, I had such a fun time turning it into a fic! Sorry it has taken me so long to complete it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Alright, it’s been a month since Y/N announced she’d be moving in with me - no, she didn’t ask if she could nor if I’d want her to, she straight up casually informed me she’d be moving in with me since she’s starting college. I’m lucky she even thought to tell me, knowing her it wouldn’t have been so strange for her to just show up on my doorstep with a grin like “Alright, I live here now.” Having a six years younger sister who can act both younger and older than me - sometimes both at the same time - is a bit complex. Obviously, my protective and nurturing brotherly instinct kicks in whenever she complains to me about something, but seconds later she tells me she’s taken care of it already and I feel like a fool for overreacting even if it was only internal. She’s calm and rational when she needs to be and a reckless airhead whose only goal is to have fun when she wants to be.

And judging by her and her friends’ main methods of obtaining said fun I can see how much alike we are: playing drunk video games, drunk darts, drunk pool. You see, there’s a lot of drinking involved and that’s something I’m greatly unhappy with and have scolded her on countless times just to get a fake promise, probably with fingers crossed behind her back - that she’ll cut down the alcohol. Not to mention she’s not even old enough to drink so I’ve been very insistent on her cutting her bad habit. She’s tried calling me hypocritical at times but she can’t do so rightfully since I’m, you know, of drinking age. So she’s basically bound by law to follow my advice and orders.

At least now that she’ll be staying with me I’ll be able to keep a better eye on her. A rascal high school student will either mature-up in college or go even more downhill. I aim to make her fall in the first category, but I’m making no promises - she’s very unruly, just like me. Damn, never did I think my own traits would come hitting me in the back of the head like a boomerang but here we are.

Regardless of all the crap I’ve just spewed about her, she’s a wonderful girl. She’s always been my pillar of support and never gets tired of it. She never misses a call of mine and has never not replied to a message of mine, no matter how drunk she’s been. She’s never skipped a Saturday night Skype call, no matter how busy she’s been. She’s never let herself forget she has a brother who often times needs her by his side.

Once she even talked one of her friends who has a car and a driver’s license drive her all the way to my apartment complex when I was having a really bad anxiety attack and legit couldn’t talk on the phone. She went door to door to find which apartment I live in and stayed with me the whole weekend she was supposed to spend at a music festival or something. It’s not wonder she’ll be a med student - she’s always wanted to be a nurse and has practically been my personal nurse since she was twelve. She maybe wasn’t always physically present to help me, but she’s a great instruction giver for when I need her and she’s unable to come to my aid.

Well now, we’ll both be there to aid one another.

“BEEP BEEP FUCKER!“

I nearly flip off my chair at the distinct yelling coming from directly below my window. I’d recognize that voice anywhere, and it’d always bring a smile to my face without fail.

I rush to get up from my desk chair and open the window but when I do so, she’s no longer on the sidewalk. There’s only a car I recognize to be the one of the friend that drove her here during that nightmarish episode I explained earlier.

Before I can ever back away from the window, I hear my front door swing open and a yell echo from down the hall, “Corpse! How many times do I need to tell you to lock your door, damn it!”

“The same amount of times I’ve had to tell you to cut down on the al- WHOA!“ She doesn’t let me finish the sentence and jumps me the second I step out in the hallway.

“Missed you, stupid!“ She says, her legs wrapped around my waist as she ruffles my hair, “I’ll trim your hair later. Why have you let it get so long?“ She questions, furrowing her brows at me while running both her hands through my mess of a hair - she has a point, I’ve let it get out of control. While doing so, she seems to get an idea all of a sudden so she quickly climbs down, reminding me of the huge height difference we have now that her feet are on the floor. “I know you two have met before, but I think you need to re-meet...“ she says, turning to look at her friend who’s smiling timidly at her. She sends the flustered girl a wink before turning back to look at me, “Corpse, I’d like you to meet Abbey, my girlfriend“ she says proudly, skipping over to the blue haired girl and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Y/N pushes up on her tiptoes and places a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. It’s adorable to see her shorter than yet another person she clearly adores to annoy.

I smile at the two girls, holding back a chuckle as to not embarrass Abbey more, “Well then, nice to meet you Abbey. You should know you are one strong soul to be putting up with all that.“ I purposely don’t look at Y/N as I motion towards her, earning me a pissed off “Hey!“ as a response to my remark, “Stick around for dinner, don’t worry neither of us will be cooking.“ I point at myself and then at Y/N as if to reassure her she won’t be a victim of food poisoning.

“Actually...“ Abbey says, tilting her head to look my shortie sister in the eyes as if taunting her to say something.

She finally caves, raising her left hand as though she’s volunteering, “Ugh fine, I may or may not have taken a cooking course and may or may not know how to cook a decent meal. It’s whatever, really.”

To say I’m impressed would be an understatement. I’m impressed, shocked, surprised and flooded with joy that my sister has finally decided to start maturing. “Cooking course, huh? When did you decide living off of takeout isn’t a nice way to live?”

She rolls her eyes at me, “Oh no I still go full weeks with only takeout and cereal, I just needed a distraction because...well...” she trails off, her gaze dropping awkwardly as she fishes for words or perhaps already has them found but doesn’t want to spit them out.

Abbey huffs, taking Y/N’s hand and lifting it to show off her wrist where I catch sight of a batch of colorful handmade bracelets, “Because these aren’t gonna earn themselves.”

I raise an eyebrow, puzzled as to what exactly she’s referring to.

Y/N sighs, taking one of the bracelets, playing with it nervously, “I have one for every month I’ve spent without getting drunk - Abbey made them for me. I need a distraction to stay sober so...I took up cooking.“

I can’t remember a moment I haven’t felt proud of my sister. Y/N’s always been on top of her shit, drunk or sober she knows what she’s doing. She’s mindful even when she’s reckless, thinks soberly even when she’s been drinking heavily. She’s always proved herself to me and to the people who think of her as a lowlife without even trying. She lets the world breeze by her without thinking too much of it and yet she still mesmerizes me and many of the people she meets - Abbey has now officially joined the club.

But, all things said and considered, I think I’ve never felt as proud of her as I do right now, seeing those six bracelets on her wrist - half a year without getting drunk. I know she wouldn’t lie to Abbey, she rarely lies to me too, so those bracelets have been earned and well-deserved and that makes me feel like the Y/N I remember is not the one standing in front of me right now. That silly girl is still in the suburbs, making a shitty-ass choice of messing up her liver. A grown woman, a responsible adult has taken her place though, and I couldn’t be more glad.

“Y/N...“ I finally manage to utter her name, making her gaze meet mine, “I’m so fucking proud of you.“

A smile slowly stretches the corners of her mouth upwards, her eyes shning in a way that has nothing to do with the lighting in this hallway. She’s not a crier though, I know those tears are gonna stay right there, stubbornly refusing to escape her eyes, “Thanks, Corpse. I’m proud of you too....” she says, nodding her head slowly, “I can overlook the untrimmed hair.”

Sigh

Y/N will always be Y/N no matter what I guess. That’s a good thing - I love her just the way she is.

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#corpse husband #corpse #corpse fanfiction #corpse fic #corpse fanfic #corpse fandom #corpse fluff #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse imagines #corpse imagine #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband imagine #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #fluff #sibling bonding #siblings #sibling fluff #requests open #request

[bigskydreaming]

If you were editor of Nightwing's book ever since at least the start of Rebirth to today and you were given free reign, what would your story mandates?

Oh no, this is dangerous. LOL. Hmm, I have no idea what to shoot for here, so I'll try to keep it to ten. That's reasonable right? Ten is good. Yeah. Is fine.

Okay, so, in no particular order:

1) Let Dick be competent 101. None of this him having to play hype man for every other character to pop up in HIS title bullshit. Nope. That's not what they're there for. He's the lead man, LET HIM BE THE LEADING MAN. Like sure, everyone has their areas of expertise, he doesn't need or have to be the best at everything, blah blah blah.....but its about the nuance. All of that is kinda lip service because the thing is, you don't go into MOST comic books and NEED to be reminded of that because the lead characters of those books are all constantly getting saved or shown up or chastised by every guest star in their books, you know? This is a very weird, very niche phenomenon very specific to Dick's character, and I'm super over it. I'm here to read about the guy who has literally been doing this longer than most superheroes twice his age. The guy who's been doing this since before he hit double digits. The born acrobat. The destined ultimate warrior or whatever of Gotham's Ornithological Society Of Murder and Pretentiousness. Gimme that guy. And that guy doesn't need to be 'humbled' every other page, because the thing is, he's not some egomaniac to begin with so the everpresent need to humble him doesn't actually come off as humbling! It just comes off as pandering and not even to actual fans of the actual character, so its like.....wyd DC.

2) Let other people take responsibility for their own crap with Dick rather than always just expecting a mea culpa from him. I'm so unbelievably tired of the words I'm sorry from Dick. I love personal accountability, so I never thought I'd have to say this about a character, but enoooooough. They have made it completely in character for this dude to apologize to everyone ELSE for being brainwashed, getting amnesia, being KILLED, like.....the amount of things he's groveled for forgiveness for when he didn't actually do a damn thing wrong or worse yet, was the ACTUAL victim of is like....pretty damn staggering. And meanwhile, there's nary a peep of apology from the people who regularly insult or belittle him, get physically violent with him, take advantage of him or take him for granted, etc, etc, etc. Its entirely too one-sided and imbalanced, and the pendulum needs to swing the other direction, like YESTERDAY, and in a fairly big way, IMO.

3) None of this Baby's First Social Justice Awakening 101 crap. I'm sorry, but no. Especially not when you go out of your way to acknowledge that Dick is Romani, only to then turn around and act like he's only JUST had his eyes opened to an awareness of like, classism and poverty and the real struggles people face day to day? Sorry not sorry, but especially for other white writers out there, do not use people of color as self-inserts for dipping a toe into Learning To See Past Privilege. And especially when talking about a character who has a history of being actively abused and hurt by the system and institutions of power, or hell, even leaving out that particular origin story, who has still been out on the streets helping people since he was a literal child. You can not tell me that this is his first face to face experience with social issues, or the first time he's had the inclination to try and address those head on. (And its also particularly egregious that the people second-guessing Dick in his own title and giving him reality checks or acting like they have more of an awareness of all this than he does like, happen to all be white? OPTICS. LEARN ABOUT THEM. COMMON SENSE. GET SOME.)

Know what would actually be a better way to approach this? Flashbacks. Show us Dick running into situations that make him think back to a case when he was still Robin, when he and Batman had started fighting over their approaches to things, actually SHOW us those conflicts and how their viewpoints had started diverging, and how much of that was due to Dick not having the same experiences as Bruce, or the same standing in society, no matter what house he lived in. THEN you can jump BACK to the present, with the reminder/awareness that this is something that isn't NEWS to Dick, but that he in the past felt he was forced to make his peace with as something he wasn't in a position to do that much about....only NOW, he's in a very DIFFERENT position, and suddenly it just hits him how he's still acting like he did when he was limited in resources or in having to be part of a chain in command or having to factor other responsibilities into things....now he ACTUALLY has the power and the resources to make meaningful change in the ways he ALWAYS wanted to, but maybe just needed time to figure out HOW.

Like you know what would have made Shawn Tsang's story arc so much better? If Dick didn't just remember her as the Pigeon's one time teenage sidekick he'd briefly fought as a kid, but like.....if he remembered her as someone he and Bruce had FOUGHT about. Because he didn't agree with sending someone to juvie for defacing public property as a form of political protest, when it was someone's LIFE who was going to be irrevocably damaged by that while the damage to the city could be fixed with a check, and what made Dick any more deserving of Bruce's leniency and faith in his potential or underlying goodness than Shawn?

But he was still a kid himself back then, and when Bruce responded with his usual conviction, talking about the importance about rule of law and etc etc, Dick just didn't have the words to get through to him then, to get him to understand that this wasn't just Dick not getting it because he was too young, it was BRUCE not getting it, that Dick was literally just saying well he wasn't too young to have been in juvie himself, and of the two of them, he's the one who has experience there so why was Bruce's opinion on whether this was the punishment that fit the crime the one that got to hold more weight here? When Dick's the one who knows what that punishment actually LOOKS like beyond the abstract, for whom it was a reality that still haunts him in ways that even defacing a few statues of some rich old fucks doesn't deserve?

Or hell, go back FURTHER than when he was Robin. Idk where any of those posts are, but I've always wanted to see something where Dick maybe runs into someone he remembers from his time in juvie, maybe a guard who is like, the source of the reasons Dick mistrusts figures of authority and is so hung up on independence and not being under anyone's thumb, or maybe someone who was in there with him, another kid who looked out for him when he didn't have to, etc. Gimme Dick tackling head-on his firsthand awareness that there's no rehabilitation to be found in a jail for kids, when most of those kids don't even need rehabilitation in the first place and only did what they did in order to survive or escape from worse situations or like, were there purely because of racist cops, etc. Let him go after THAT system, driven by personal experiences and memories that maybe only hit him in full after recovering his memories from the Ric Grayson arc, like they're things that he put in a box in his mind a long, long time ago because he didn't have the spoons or reserves to deal with them when he was a kid still so traumatized in so many ways, like, something had to give and so he put all those memories away for another day and just....never got back to them because life kept hitting him with new and fresh trauma every week.

But now something has him thinking back to those early days in Gotham, and reminding him that not everyone had a Bruce Wayne willing and able to give them an out from that place or acrobatic skills to escape it on their own, and like. You want to do something about the cycles of violence in Gotham and Bludhaven? Why not start with the places that literally MANUFACTURE cruelty on an institutional level, that teach kids that no matter what they did to get put there, even if that was nothing at all, they're all going to be treated the same way and given no reason NOT to do whatever it took to be top dog in a dog eat dog world by the time they got out.

There's SO many better approaches to social awareness in the Batbooks than what we're seeing, and like. Sheesh. The bar is way too low.

4) On a related note, if I'm editor of the Nightwing book, the FIRST thing I'm doing is making it a priority to find a writer of color for that book, ideally someone of Rom descent. Its waaaaay past time to let a Romani writer take the reins on Dick, Wanda, Pietro or Doom, aka some of the only prominent Romani characters out there? You can't tell me that there aren't talented writers who identify as Roma who would be more than willing to add their perspective to Dick's archive of narratives, and if an editor's gotta go looking for them? Go fucking look. DC and its fans have milked a lot of mileage out of the idea of Dick being Romani with very little in the way of nuanced storytelling to show for it in the past twenty years, and if DC wants to trot out little reminders that Dick is Romani every couple years, like in the form of a freaking line that has no follow up or expansion to any degree and is offset by an internal monologue that otherwise reads as incredibly privileged, the least they can do is TRY to expand on that with the narrative perspective of someone they claim to be representing via that character.

And no, this isn't gatekeeping, this is prioritizing. Its not about preventing other writers from writing this character, like just for the hell of it, its about being proactive about finding a writer who can write specific aspects of this character that have long gone unaddressed or poorly represented. And like. Okay. Its not easy breaking into the comics industry for anyone, but its particularly not easy for marginalized writers. Most every major comic book company just recites 'make your own stuff first and then show us that' but when you're a writer specifically, finding a compatible artist to partner with on creator-owned indie stuff first, when those artists are in the same position as you are and apologetically and understandably tend to have to take paying work over yours if you can't pay except on the back end, like....there are a lot of hurdles to getting your start in comic books, and while there are more and more marginalized writers in comics these days, DC and Marvel kinda fucked up, because you know what?

After being told 'make your own first, then we'll talk,' writers DID do just that....but then found out that well, due to the ease of online distribution and access these days, for any writers who CAN find an artist to partner with, its a hell of a lot easier to get their content out there these days WITHOUT a major publisher behind them.....and for a lot of marginalized writers in particular, its worth it to keep full creative control in exchange for smaller circulation. Especially when they don't have to deal with editors 'softening' their work to make it more palatable for audiences that quite frankly aren't necessarily their primary target. So yeah, marginalized voices are becoming more and more present in comics, but Marvel and DC for the most part are keeping the same voices centered they always have, and what these voices have to say is becoming less and less relevant and outdated. Because much like this arc from Taylor, even when they DO dip their toes into story matter that's of interest to wider audiences, they're doing so to a degree that still puts them years behind the conversations everyone else is having.

5) The same holds true of disability representation. I stopped reading Taylor's run for a lot of reasons but his way of responding to people unhappy with his depiction of Babs was a key one. If I'm editor on a book, and someone tweets at one of my writers that their depiction of a disabled character was hurtful because it feels like they're doubling back on everything Babs has ever said about not being defined by or ashamed of her disability and now its being treated like a dirty little secret, and that writer's response is essentially to just laugh at them and say there's nothing wrong or ableist about their writing of a disabled person, TO a concerned disabled person? That writer's ass is getting fired. Full stop.

Either you give a shit about this stuff or you don't. Don't pay your readers lip service about how important social issues are to you and how much you care about using superhero narratives to inspire people on these matters if you're gonna turn around and show your ass the second you don't feel comfortable and prioritized by the conversation, like it wouldn't exist without your oh so valuable contributions. ESPECIALLY if you don't identify as sharing the same identity of the marginalized character you're writing. You are a guest in someone else's lived experiences at that point, and you think you've got the right to belittle and talk down to the people who LIVE THERE? Fuck off, my dude.

6) Re-center Dick as someone who the superhero community RESPECTS. I love seeing Dick depicted as someone who has an awareness of his own limitations and an appreciation for what others bring to the table, and so I'm not opposed to him calling on others when he needs to.....but I also would like to see more of the opposite. But not in the way we usually see it these days, where he's asked to come help with a crisis and then usually second-guessed the whole way, and then sent back home without so much as a thank you when its done. Yawn. Sorry. I've read that story by now.

You know what story arc I freaking LOVED as a kid, back in the 90s? In Green Lantern, when Kyle Rayner first became the sole GL, one of his very early arcs, before he ever joined the JLA or anything....was him realizing how little he knew about being a superhero. He was like, my predecessors all had a full fledged CORPS to teach them everything they needed to know, but I had a few lines of exposition from a funny little blue guy in a red pillowcase and then I was off to the races. That's not good enough. There's so much I don't know about being a hero, I don't even KNOW what I still need to know.

So he went on kinda a superhero training roadtrip. He went to Metropolis to ask Superman for advice, he went to Batman to learn from Batman and Robin (Tim at the time). He went to Wonder Woman, Sentinel (Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern), etc, etc. And in the end, Kyle very much became his own kind of hero who wasn't just a pastiche of all those other heroes and the advice they gave him, but like....this put him on the road to that.

And I'd love to see something like that happen in Dick's solo title. We've seen him train in a team setting, we've seen him train the other Robins.....I'd love to see like, young superheroes from OTHER books, not ones created by the title, but like names people actually recognize from other franchises, like, guest star in Nightwing's book to learn from HIM, specifically. I wanna see something where Wally looks at the latest speedster and is like, you know what, if you really wanna be the best hero you can possibly be, then Nightwing's who you gotta go to, because there's no one I trust to make a better hero out of someone than him. I want the newest kid on the JLA block to worry that people aren't taking him seriously because of his age or experience, and he's always hearing them talk about Nightwing and how young he was when he started and so if anyone knows something about how to gain the respect of your older superhero peers, that's the guy to talk to.

Gimme Dick's couch being crashed on at various times by a half dozen new or upcoming young superheroes who all heard or figured out that if they really want to up their superhero game, Nightwing's the guy to see.

7) Bring back Bea. There's no long paragraph expansion on this, its really simply. Bring back Bea. She was one of the freshest breaths of air in Dick's supporting cast in ages, most of the current run is based off her character direction in the first place, she's literally the best suited TO help Dick in this venture, and the reasons they gave for writing her out of Dick's life were all bullshit and they just wanted to focus on his previous relationships, which would be fine if they didn't fall into the same two endless cycles of bring back up, go nowhere with, awkwardly avoid each other for years, rinse and repeat. Like. Bring back Bea, please and thank you, the end.

8) Focus on new villains. Heartless is meh, but the idea of new villains is still better IMO than rehashing Blockbuster, Zucco, etc. Like, nostaglia ain't it. If I want to read Blockbuster fucking up Dick's life, I can do that. They're called back issues. The thing is, love it or hate it, the Blockbuster arc WAS iconic. It left its mark. And anything that doesn't leave just as much of a mark, if they're going to bring him up again, is just gonna be a waste of time, you know? It'll just dilute his overall presence when like, what he was - worked fine as is. We don't need Round Two.

The trick to good villains, IMO, is they have to speak to a fight that needs fighting.

What I mean by that is....the best villains are those who resonate on a more instinctive level because they embody something that already exists in a reader's mind as a conflict that needs fighting. Like, if superheroes exist, if the embodiment of larger than life presences and forces devoted to protecting the world from various things are real....then their villains need to embody the kinds of fights or conflicts that NEED larger than life figures to combat them, at least on a one to one level.

Look at Superman and Lex Luthor. Superman at his core embodies the strength of community. He's the ultimate hero of the people, his essence is that he was the last survivor of a doomed race who was raised by two honest, hard working people to see the beauty in just being ONE of them, in using what he had on behalf of all of them and not just himself. In contrast, Lex Luthor is basically the embodiment of capitalist greed, of excess, of the entitlement of being able to have anything with a snap of your fingers and thus assuming that gives you divine mandate to make the kinds of choices that he sees as only his right to make.

He hates Superman, ultimately, because Superman is the WRONG savior of the people. He wants their only savior to be HIM, half the time he honestly believes he's saving the world FROM Superman, but just as often he's perfectly content to be the villain and not shy about it....because Lex Luthor's ultimate motivation is he wants everyone to know when he's dead and gone that LEX LUTHOR WAS HERE. He genuinely doesn't care WHAT his impact or legacy is at the end of the day, just that it exists and it overshadows most everything else...because all that really matters to him is the irrefutable proof that HE mattered. And thus at their cores, Superman and Lex are perfectly opposed. Ideally situated to eternally be in conflict, their own forever war, because their core natures are incompatible. They CAN'T compromise, without compromising themselves and essentially ending up as someone totally other than who and what they are already.

And you can go down the list. The Joker is the chaos to Batman's order, while Mr. Freeze is the stagnancy of that order taken too far, he's what you get when you freeze everything in your grief and refuse to let anything go on, anything new grow, because that would mean having to admit once and for all that what you're mourning is really gone. Two-Face is the ultimate embodiment of Man vs Self, a once good man at war with his own worse nature, and reminding everyone who looks at him how easily they could fall to the same fate.

And so on and so on. What Dick needs, is more of the same. Like, as much as I'm not a huge fan of Talon stories, I maintain that the Court of Owls were a great foil for him - just they tend to be poorly used in canon as well. But I also think how poorly they come off in canon has a lot to do with canon not really touching on WHY they're such a perfect foil for Dick....and that's Dick's history with being outside the system, mistreated and even exploited by the system. Because the Court, their core concept, is they ARE the system. They are entrenched, enfranchised, institutional power, passed down through generations, dynastic control that is a perfect counterpart to the dynastic power of the Wayne family, embodied in its youngest generation in the form of Bruce's FOUND family, the children he adopted regardless of whether or not his peers found them deserving of that honor. The Court, and their entire....thing...about the Gray Son, is the entitled fury of those denied something they deem theirs simply because they WANT it, and who will burn the whole world down rather than admit defeat or let someone else have it instead.

And that resonates. It could resonate a lot MORE if DC would actually lean into those concepts and allow Dick to explore how the Court are nothing he's not used to, they're literally made up of the same people who have looked down on him ever since he came to Gotham, but now they're actually a face and a name put to all those attitudes, something he can literally FIGHT BACK AGAINST. The Court are literally human-sized embodiments of everything and everyone who's tried to confine Dick since his parents' deaths, tried to define him without his permission, tried to make him other or lesser than who and what he is.....and who thus now exist in a form that Dick can literally BATTLE. So that he doesn't HAVE to just take this stuff lying down.

Thanks to the Court, he doesn't HAVE to just passively accept it, that this is just how life is, that some people are going to view him this way and think this about him and there's nothing he can do about it. He CAN do something about it, in superhero stories. He can kick its ASS, in the form of the Court of Owls and everything its members think about him and intend for him. He can refuse to bow down to them, to accept their mark on him. He can say lol, no, and then blow their shit sky high, ideally with a little help from his family. He can BEAT them, in this incarnated form, and in doing so, even though he can't beat everything they stand for and represent, that victory still matters, still means something symbolic to readers it resonates with.

And that's what we need more of. Villains created specifically to embody concepts that are diametrically opposed to Dick and what he represents. The system, yes, but also villains who embody the kind of tyranny and control he fights back against in his constant battles for autonomy and self control. Villains who embody the 'new hopes' of a second generation just like Dick himself is the focal point of the hopes embodied by the second generation of heroes. I'm actually not the hugest fan of multiversal constant Dick Grayson, but I might like it more if he had an opposite number there, someone he was specifically contrasted with. Idk.

But you get it.

9) Dick having a social life. Gimme the Titans and his siblings showing up JUST to show up. We have room enough for at least a couple pages every other issue where we just get to see these characters having some breathing room, taking a beat to stop and be something other than just a superhero, to be human as well. There's more to life than 24/7 fighting, even for them, and that's largely been lost in modern superhero comics, which kinda sucks, because that was what made most of the more iconic and lasting dynamics between various characters like, STAND the test of time. The larger than life battles between good and evil might be what many of us come to superhero comics FOR, but the relatable back-and-forths and ups and downs of their private lives spent with friends and family tends to be what keeps most of us coming BACK. And lately its all just mission, mission, mission, and I'm like blah, blah, blah and its like, meh, meh, meh. Y'know? Give the guy some down time, and let his friends come spend it with him.

10) Boone. This is purely self-indulgent, but if you know anything about me, you know my obsession with Robin: Year One, Dick's brief time at Vengeance Academy, and the hate/hate relationship he has with his brief frenemy from that period, Boone aka Shrike. This character has SOOOOO much potential to be Dick's true archnemesis and rival, and like. *Sobs* I can't get into it all again. Its too much. I can't do it.

Okay, I absolutely can. And will, probably. But like. Later.

BONUS ROUND:

Other thing I would absolutely insist upon if I were Nightwing editor....

GET THAT FUCKING MEME SHIRT ABOUT BRUCE SLAPPING DICK THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.

Like. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL. Why would you double down on THAT? Why is Babs STILL wearing it? (Last I checked, like I think I saw it in a scan from last issue? I'm pretty sure its still there? If not, forget this entire rant, and I am very embarrassed. Okay not that embarrassed. I don't really care if I'm wrong here but like, in case I'm not)...

WHY. Who thought that was funny? No, seriously, on behalf of any other abuse survivors who like me are SERIOUSLY not amused, who the FUCK thinks its FUNNY to have one of Dick's best friends sporting a shirt that no matter what it represents IN universe, to readers OUT of universe, is always going to call to mind the fact that this meme only freaking EXISTS because of all the times DC has obliviously and without acknowledgment written Bruce abusing his children, including the BFF that Babs is literally wearing that right in front of.

Like omg do you hate her, DC? What other possible reason could you have for thinking that would be a cute, funny thing for her to wear around the guy getting SLAPPED, by his DAD, in your shirt's iconography.

Okay I'm done.

LOL.

Sorry, that last one was brewing for awhile. Deep breaths. Woo.

[where-dreamers-go]

Heyo! May I have Eragon's reaction to reader saying "I've loved you from the very start! I love you, but you don't love me! So why am I even confessing?" because I love drama and I do need a lot of fluff rn.

“The Many Questions And A Confession” Eragon x Modern!Reader

(A/N: How about a continuation to the one Modern!Reader slipping and telling Eragon how they know about him telling Arya about his true name?? I shall give the drama this day. It shall be a journey towards the fluff. Looks like this turned into an insert reader type deal. Needs a title now? Oops?

Drama time! Because Reader is really frustrated with Eragon in this one. Woo! How’s Eragon handle it? Spoiler: He doesn’t stop talking.

Continuation of this one: https://where-dreamers-go.tumblr.com/post/647030131496534016/if-modernreader-has-read-the-books-and-knows

Warnings: Angst! Fluff. Mild language.

Word Count: 1,703 words)

Hiding in your room’s bathroom, you remained silent. It was not so much that Eragon could not find you, it was that you did not want to be seen at least. So what if you had locked doors and were sitting in a dry tub? The worst that could happen would be if he decided to invade your mind.

“(Y/N)?” Eragon’s voice echoed throughout the chamber as the door to your room opened.

Of course he opened it. At least I didn’t barricade it, you thought. Can’t have thirty seconds to myself.

“Are you going to talk to me?” He asked quietly from the other side of the bathroom door. Apparently locating you was not an issue.

You narrowed your eyes at the door as you sunk further into the empty tub.

A barely audible sigh reached your ears.

“I’m not angry with you for knowing,” he said. “I just don’t understand why you’re running off.”

You glanced up to the ceiling. Did you forget your last guess?

“Then…you do have feelings for me?” Eragon asked. “Or you think I’m foolish for having feelings for Arya.” His voice softened, more speaking to himself than asking you another question.

You sighed and muttered, “Not so much that your feelings were foolish….just some of your actions.”

“You still haven’t answered my questions.”

“Because…wait for it….I don’t have to.”

“(Y/N),” Eragon’s tone lowered. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks and it could not be for you knowing what I’ve done. If that were true…then you would have avoided me much sooner.”

“Brave of you to assume that I wasn’t avoiding you then.”

“We spoke more often then.”

“You asked me at least twenty questions a day. It’s hard to avoid that kind of persistence.” Kind of like now.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I had just met you! I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I would never do that.”

“So please stop avoiding me. I promise to be less foolish if that will help.”

“It won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Stop asking so many darn questions.”

“No. Just tell me.”

“No.”

“Why—?”

“I’ve loved you from the very start! I love you, but you don’t love me! So why am I even confessing?” You threw your hands out in a wide gesture. “Why do I bother? What does it even matter? …why am I even still talking?” You huffed. “Are we finished now?”

Silence.

You heard nothing else. Nothing in the bathroom you were hiding in nor anything out in the bedroom.

He has to be still out there. You thought. But I swear to all that is good, if he so much as tries to enter my mind, I will loose it. I’ll probably scream, cry, or…whatever. You crossed your arms and tried to ignore the uncomfortable position you were in. Physically, emotionally, and mentally.

The lock on the door clicked and the door opened. Walking in with an unreadable expression, Eragon made his way to you.

“No.” You said shortly, but he made no move of stopping. “What are you—?”

Eragon stepped into the dry tub.

“What are you doing?” You sat up straight as he sat down in front of you.

Settling in, Eragon folded his hands in his lap.

You shook your head at him.

What in the world? If someone thought he couldn’t get stranger…he did.

“What the blazes are you doing?” You asked, too bewildered to kick him as the opportunity was brought up in your mind.

“I’m sitting.”

You rolled your eyes so far that you were staring at the ceiling. If there was one place you did not want to look, it was straight ahead.

Wanting to hit someone upside the head and still wanting to kiss their face can not be good right now, you thought.

“Why are you even in here?” You asked through clenched teeth.

“You have been avoiding me and I haven’t seen you,” Eragon said simply before his voice softened. “I’ve missed you.”

Keeping your gaze up or up to the side, you avoided eye contact.

“Can we skip to the part where you say ‘I’m sorry, but you’re right, I don’t feel the same way about you’?” You asked. “Not going to lie…right now…you’re kind of making this worse.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was a murmur that tore through your heart.

“Alright.” Finally tearing your sights away from the ceiling, you hoisted yourself up and out of the tub.

“Where—I wasn’t finished.”

“Save your pity. I want to be alone.” You walked out of the bathroom and headed straight for your bed. There was an extremely low probability that he would follow you there too. Some lines weren’t crossed.

“I know you want to be alone.” Eragon was trailing after you.

I’m going to die from being not surprised, you thought of a quote.

“Please let me speak.”

“You’ve been speaking this whole time.” You yanked off your shoes. “What possibly could you have to say now?”

“I never said that I still loved Arya.”

You paused for a moment before saying, “Well…you don’t really need to. I’d be really surprised if you didn’t.” Tossing a pillow towards the middle of the bed, you kept your back to him.

“I don’t love her.”

Face scrunched up in confusion, you took a glance over your shoulder.

“Bull crap.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m calling you out for lying.” You explained and crossed your arms under your chest.

“I’m not lying.” A smile slowly spread across the Rider’s face.

You rose your eyebrows, challenging him.

“Sure. And what changed your strong feelings for Arya? Cold soup?”

“You.”

“What?” The word hardly reached your own ears.

Eragon walked up to you, albeit cautiously, with a full smile on his lips. His brown eyes were lit with a happiness you were not comprehending.

“What are you talking about?” You whispered. “Why are you smiling like that?”

A chuckle rang out into the room as he stopped to stand in front of you. “How am I suppose to keep a stoic face after you confessed that you love me?” His smile only stayed on his lips when he did not receive any verbal response from you, locked into his happy moment. “I know you would never lie about your feelings. Not something as strong as love.”

You watched on, cautious.

What is he trying to say, that he likes the idea of me loving him? Uh. Is this normal? You thought.

“Perhaps I should have stated my feelings for you much earlier. Clearly you have been worn down with your heart and for that I apologize.”

“Feelings?”

“Yes,” he wet his lips briefly and straightened his posture. “I do care for you deeply, (Y/N). My feelings were already growing before I even recognized them.” His smile turned sheepish, but he persisted onwards. “I didn’t think I could have those feelings for anyone else, but….it’s different somehow. I’m not sure how to explain it. I feel better when I’m around you. We’re honest with each other and you’ve taught me so much already. I’ll make this as much like home as I can for you. I really want you in my life.”

It took a moment before you breathed in a small breath.

You knew that you were probably looking at him as if he had lost his ever-loving mind. Who could blame you at that point? You were in a completely different world. And one you knew of, mind you. It was bound time for a round of unpredictability.

Eyes the color of enriched soil underneath the blooming flowers in light of a summer sky watched you with surging hope.

Were you hallucinating? Lucid dreaming? No, you couldn’t be. There were far too many moments that would have had a timeskip or objects from back home. The only way you would have this much time with Eragon would be if it was real.

He’s serious? He’s serious.

Your chest tightened and somewhere inside all of your tension released. In its place there was a warmth that brought tears to your eyes.

Frustration rapidly melting away, you carefully turned to sit on the edge of the bed to compose yourself.

“Are you alright?” Eragon asked, kneeling down to look upon your face.

“I’m…,” you swallowed. “I’m still processing what you said.”

“Processing?”

“Just…uh… Can you give me a second?” You waved a gentle hand in his direction.

“Take as much time as you need,” Eragon said as he delicately took your hand in his own.

You internally groaned at how sweet he was even after you verbally rampaged him about leaving you alone.

Seeing as you did not retract your hand, the Rider held your hand against his chest. The position allowed you the rare opportunity to feel his heartbeat. A rapid beating of his heart as he awaited any sort of verbal response from you. Anything that would tell him if he should indeed pursue the strong feelings he had.

You snuck a peek at his face; clear of any imperfections of the sun and brown eyes lit up in hope.

“You’ve been interested in me this whole time?” You asked. “And I didn’t know it?”

After reviewing your choice in words, Eragon nodded.

“What the actually hell?” You laughed. “You develop feelings quick, sir.”

A lopsided smile appeared on his face. Your light teasing of his actions always did surprise him in the most satisfying ways.

“You’re not upset with me?” He asked. “About earlier.”

“A little.”

His smile dropped a fraction.

“But I’ll find it in myself to forgive you.” You smirked.

“Then I should be grateful.” Eragon held his head high. “I would rather face your affections than your wrath.”

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes. “That was smooth, but cutting it close.” You tugged on his hands. “Get over here.”

Before Eragon could stand, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace.

“You’re a bit of an odd one, you know that?”

Eragon nudged his head against your own. “I will gladly be odd if it means I can be with you.”

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Inheritance Cycle Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @emburbaguette

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#Eragon reaction #Eragon x Reader #Eragon x Modern! Reader #Modern!Reader #Erica answers #where dreamers go #inheritance cycle #I finally finished it! I did it! #Eragon being a little sassy #Eragon fluff

[itsclydebitches]

Why do people get hung up on whether a gay person in media is a good or bad representation of them? I'm gay and I can tell you we aren't all the same? Being gay is our 1 common trait. So as long as they're gay then you've done it. Gay people can be kind, mean, racist, open, kinky, reserved, shy, outgoing, sexist, and literally anything else under the human experience.

Because I am perpetually hungry, let's tell a story about cookies.

You are a bright-eyed, optimistic, baker in the making. Your goal is to wow the world with your culinary skills, so of course you head to The Best Baking School for your degree. Over the course of your studies you learn how to perfect a thousand different cakes, an equal number of pies, and more versions of brownies than most would even assume exist. But cookies... oh, cookies are your passion! You can't wait to learn about the wealth of cookies you can make too. Then, sure enough, that part of your education finally arrives.

Funny thing is though, it's just chocolate chip.

Surely there's been some mistake? The cookie experience is vast and nuanced! Why in the world are your instructors — supposedly the best in the world — reducing cookies to a single class about baking chocolate chip and chocolate chip alone? Hell, why are cookies so sparse in the curriculum as a whole? You're never asked to bake them as a demonstration, or practice with them, and they're definitely not a given across everyone else's baking experience. Cakes, pies, and brownies... they're the default. Cookies are comparatively rare and when you do get to study them, everyone is super focused on the chocolate chip.

Then you graduate and head out into the world, only to find that pretty much everyone is as cookie-blind as your school. A few years back you never would have found cookies in the average grocery store and yeah, the fact that there's a cookie section now is great, but it's, uh... all chocolate chip! Many bakeries still don't carry cookies at all, but when they do it's - again - chocolate chip. Chocolate chip out in restaurants. Chocolate chip at the bake sale. Your friend invites you over and proudly presents a massive sweets tray that includes a single, sad looking, chocolate chip cookie. They beam at you in pride. Isn't it so great?

"Uh..." you say. "Well..."

Every once in a while someone will switch out milk chocolate for dark chocolate, or add nuts alongside chocolate chips. One bakery was even crazy enough to exclude chocolate chips entirely! Crazy according to the press, anyway. Because for years now you've been shaking your head, wondering what exactly is so progressive about realizing that sugar cookies exist. You've found other bakers interested in cookies and, by god, there are thousands. So many flavors! Gluten free and allergy conscious! Someone even made a sweets tray that was predominantly cookies, can you believe it? The problem is, almost none of them are mainstream. Your friend baking cookies out of their personal kitchen is doing fantastic work, but their baking doesn't have the impact that those grocery chains and established bakeries do. Their work isn't going to fix your school's curriculum. Too many people still think that cookies are exotic somehow. They're not the default. And when they do acknowledge their existence, it's chocolate chip over and over. Until one of them adds those nuts and suddenly the whole country is losing its mind about how inspired, creative, progressive their baking is. Meanwhile, you're ready to scream because that baker doesn't even know that something as "exotic" as a gingersnaps exist!

The worst part? Most of these cookies are... bad. Like they exist, yeah, but good god most don't taste good. And that's the whole point of a cookie?? What is the point of buying cookies if the cookies themselves are awful? You go to these bakeries, these restaurants, your friend's house, and you try the very limited cookies on offer, only to find that they've been sloppily baked. Doesn't anyone care that the baker burned their cookies to a crisp? That another straight up forgot to add sugar? This one dropped his on the floor and still tried to serve it to you! But the overall sense is that you should be grateful for getting any cookies at all. "That cookie is an offense to my taste buds," you say and people shake their head at you, disappointed. "I liked the taste of it," one says. "If you don't like it, go buy a different cookie!" Well... easier said than done. "It's not that bad," another says, shrugging in defeat. "I mean yeah, I don't really like it, and the baker stopped making them two years ago... but I'm just happy to have had any cookie at all, you know?" You do know, but that doesn't mean it's any less frustrating. You look at the hundreds of cakes available, these bakers spending decades perfecting their recipes, and wish cookies had even a fraction of that work put into them. You find people who agree with you, absolutely, but there's this this prevailing sense that a cookie is a cookie. Any cookie will do. Supposedly.

Except go long enough and you feel like you're ready to lose your mind. You take some poor person by the shoulders and go, "Doesn't this bother you? Doesn't this make you furious? There is more to the cookie world than these three flavors, 90% of which is chocolate chip! And we deserve well-made cookies, not the crap they've been upholding as the next culinary masterpiece!"

But this person just shakes their head. "Well of course there's more to cookies than three flavors. There's a huge variety of cookies! I know that."

"Yes, but the world isn't selling that variety."

"Of course they are! Just last week I had an oatmeal raisin. That's amazing!"

"Yeah and how many years did it take you to find that?"

"Well..."

"And how did that oatmeal raisin cookie taste?"

Your prisoner pulls a face. "Ugh, not good. Oatmeal raisin is definitely not for me. It's hard as a rock! I really don't understand why someone would want to eat that on a regular basis."

"But it's not supposed to be hard as a rock!" you cry, waving your arms. "That's the problem! Oatmeal raisin is so goddamn rare and then the one time we get it, it was badly baked. Of course people are turned off by it. Everyone who already loves oatmeal raisin is getting pissed because their favorite cookie is misrepresented, they're unlikely to see more of them now, and everyone is still serving the most tasteless chocolate chip cookies I've ever had, acting like this is the pinnacle of cookie baking! Do you even know that a macron exists?"

The person pats your hand consolingly. "Of course I do. My roommate's sister's boyfriend used to bake macrons, you know. I don't know why you're so hung up on this. Cookies can be whatever the baker wants them to be. Provided they're a flat-ish sweet cake, they're still a cookie!"

You hang your head, giving up. "Yes, they can be so many things, but they're not. Let me know if you ever find a bakery actually making the variety you keep acknowledging exists. Bonus points if those cookies are edible. My soul if they're delicious, as a cookie should be."

"You know," they say, still patting your hand. "There's a bakery making chocolate chip with dark chocolate next year. Everyone is talking about it. You should think about buying one before they take it off the menu!"

You contemplate just walking into the ocean.

Now, incredibly long metaphor concluded... switch out "cookies" for "queer rep"! The representation matters because no, just making them gay isn't enough right now. You're right that queer people can be anything under the sun, but right now media isn't providing us with that variety. It's not enough to acknowledge that such variety exists, it actually has to make it into our books and onto our screen. Taking just characters who identify as gay and putting aside the HUGE variety of other identities for a moment (of which we are mostly lacking in terms of rep), where are the gay asexuals? The gay people of color? The disabled gays? Trans gays? Did your gay character appear for just a handful of episodes? Were they killed off? Are they nothing more than a stereotype or comic relief? Is this the only gay character in your entire story? We need to ask questions like this because though gay people can be anything under the sun, our media landscape has only shown a miniscule portion of that variety.

Today, even in 2021, our representation of gay people is still pretty limited to:

You are only coded as gay and evil

You are only coded as gay and queerbaited

You are canonically gay, but a cis, ablebodied, white person

You are canonically gay, but were written terribly/killed off/punished by the narrative/generally making the real gay people watching you feel awful about their identity

You are canonically gay, but you're not human. Gotta other the queerness by making you an alien/robot/fantasy being

You are canonically gay and that's your entire existence. There is one (1) narrative of how you knew by the time you were four, never questioned your identity after that, suffered through a family that rejected you, and now all your major arcs revolve around being gay. You are gay and that is it.

Despite being a list of six, that's still incredibly limiting. Are there exceptions to such a list? Always, but that doesn't mean the list isn't still dominating. We can look at any individual gay character and say, "Of course they can be evil/white/killed off/a joke/etc. because gay people can be anything at all," but when we look at the trends, when we look at ALL the media together, we see that gay people aren't actually depicted as being anything... they're depicted as being these handful of things, severely limiting how gayness is represented. Bad rep. If you hit up the bakery and question why there's only versions of chocolate chip available yeah, the baker can go, "But cookies can be any flavor! Including chocolate chip!" They are not, technically, wrong. The problem is not that chocolate chip exists, but that chocolate chip dominates and other flavors are rare, ignored entirely, or baked so badly it's actively damaging to that flavor as a whole. Yeah, your gay character can be mean. Or kinky. Or murdered by the story. But when so many gay characters are mean and kinky and murdered by their stories — when you're not getting other versions to balance that out and gay characters are still rare enough that it's just 1-2 characters trying to carry representation for an entire franchise — you start realizing that the claim of "Gay people can be anything else under the human experience" is an easy way to shut down the conversation of whether that variety actually exists in our storytelling yet.

It's not enough for the baker to acknowledge that yeah, of course there are hundreds of cookie flavors and of course cookies taste great! They've actually got to learn how to bake them properly and fill up their store with them.

#queer #mymetas

[mintymiknow]

Trust Fall - ch. 1 | Lee Minho

summary | character profiles | masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader

Summary: When you walk away from something that essentially ruined you, you don’t expect to have anything to do with it anymore. But it would seem like the universe had other plans for you, and you find yourself with no choice but to face the nightmare again. 

Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action

Word count: Approx. 5.6k

Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of blood, implied human experimentation in labs, descriptions of said experimentations, descriptions of medical operations, implied trauma 

A/N: My new series is here! I don’t think it’s going to be as good or as hit has Scintilla, but I’m writing this ‘cause I want to, and I am excited! Please note that I’m not fully knowledgeable in the area of secret agent stuff and medical/science fields, but I hope you still enjoy reading this series. I can’t wait for everything to take place! Hehe as usual, I’d appreciate feedback, and if you have any comments, questions, etc., feel free to send in an ask!

“Yeah, so don’t forget to eat your meals and take your medicine when the nurses tell you to,” you laugh, looking at a patient with a playfully stern expression, “especially if you want to get better sooner.”

The elder patient laughs, leaning back on the hospital bed, “Yes, Doc, you got it. I promise to.”

“Good.” you grin, nodding your head approvingly, “I believe Dr. Kang will be checking up on you in the next few hours. Rest well, Mr. Lim.”

The elder nods with an airy chuckle before turning his attention back to the drama currently playing on TV. You bow politely before grabbing your clipboard and quietly exiting the patient’s room. While walking down the hospital hallway of this particular wing, you hear a familiar voice call out to you.

“Hey, y/n!”

You turn around with an amused grin, shaking your head, “Dr. Kang, aren’t we prohibited from shouting in the hospital?”

The male doctor makes an “oops” face before chuckling softly, hands in his medical coat’s pocket, “Right, sorry about that, Dr. Song.”

“So, how can I help you? I have another appointment in a bit.” you smile.

Dr. Kang - or Hyunbin as you call him - grins likewise, waving his hand in a carefree manner, “Nothing, just wanted to say hi since I bumped into you after like...weeks of both of us being busy. Go along now...wouldn’t want your patient getting angry over your late arrival.”

“You’re clingy.” you joke before laughing, “I’ll get going then. See you around, Hyunbin.”

The male playfully scoffs before waving his hand dismissively just as a nurse calls for his attention over some medical records. “See ya, y/n.” he hums, turning on his heel to walk away.

You smile before going about your way as well, hearing your heels click on the glossy floors as you walk to another department of the hospital to meet with a consulting patient.

And after that, you are called in for an emergency operation, so you end up running in said heels, pretty much aware that you’d probably end up with sore feet afterwards.

Hours pass by until you complete a very stressful yet successful operation. Your crisp, white shirt was replaced by the hospital’s mint green scrubs, stained with blood and bodily fluids. Your heels left somewhere in the locker room as your white clogs are essentially red now. Your neck feels like it’s about to break from leaning and craning it to focus on the operation, eyes strained like they would seal shut any second now.

But you knew that.

You knew that it was part of the job. Was it bothersome? Maybe, but that was just one slight inconvenience in the process of saving lives. That was why you became a professional in the medical and science field in the first place - to save lives. No, you definitely could not save every single person you came across. But you would definitely do your utmost best.

Especially when there were certain...blood stains you needed to wash off from your hands.

The more people you saved in Gongjak Medical Hospital, the more the blood on your hands washed off, little by little. Hopefully.

Unconsciously, you stare down at your gloved hands, eyes taking in the way the blood either dries or swirls into a distorted pattern. You see blood everyday - you’re a doctor, of course you would. And it was nothing new or something to be disgusted about because you were used to it. But right now, you felt like throwing up, the metallic scent and gruesome color clinging to your own hands too much to bear. This has never happened before, so you aren’t sure why it was happening today. You feel like the empty operation room spins around, ready to make you collapse until a nurse’s voice catches your attention.

“Dr. Song, the patient has been moved to a room and Dr. Choi is overseeing right now. We’ll have this room cleaned, so you may take it easy. Thank you for today’s operation.”

“I see, thank you too.” you nod, faking a calm smile despite the shaking of your hands, “I’ll get going then.”

And so you spend the next few hours rotating around consultation appointments and check-ups on patients. By the time it’s past 12 midnight, you prepare to head back to your home.

You drive in silence, eyes exhausted as they keep focused on the driveway that leads to a house that is not too large but not that small either. That’s one thing you were thankful for; your parents chose to live in a house surrounded by trees in a more private area of the city with only so much residents and houses. Some say it was for the rich - and maybe it was true - but it was definitely more peaceful and safe. Peace and quiet was what you needed after tedious days.

And safe was what you needed when you felt like something or someone haunts you every single day.

You drag yourself across the living room, dumping your bag on the couch as you make your way to the kitchen. An eerie and somewhat unsettling aura mixes in the air, but you choose to ignore it in favor of drinking a glass of cold water. You place the glass down on the counter before leaning on the table’s surface, head craning down as you get lost in your dark thoughts once again. It was always lonely at home without your parents, and you weren’t going to lie; admittedly, there were times you felt afraid to even step foot into any inch in this lonesome household.

But again, a different air filled the place right now, and it somehow sent shivers down your spine. Maybe you needed a bath, so you slowly make your way to your bedroom. However, as you reach the second floor, you notice that the door to your study room was left slightly open - you always made it a point to leave it shut.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you tiptoe and stop in front of the door, grabbing the knob and slowly pulling it closed. However, just before it can click, a deep voice breaks the silence.

“Dr. Song y/n.”

You freeze, your blood running cold as a voice is heard in the dark study room.

“Dr. Song, we aren’t here to harm you. Come inside.”

We?

Your body moves on its own, pushing the door back to reveal your study, illuminated by nothing but the moonlight seeping in through the curtains. Once the door is fully opened, you vaguely register three figures standing by your desk. Most people would scream or scramble to call the cops. You? Nope. You didn’t know why either. Maybe these strangers were the cause of you feeling like someone was always watching you.

With crossed arms, you nod your head towards the stranger’s direction, “What is it? How do you know me? Who are you?”

One of the figures switches your lamp on, revealing his face - sharp eyes and a sharp jaw but an overall youthful and young disposition. He then speaks up, “We need you to come with us.”

“Clearly, strangers telling me to go with them is the most normal thing to happen.” you say, eyebrows furrowed.

Another figure notes your displeasure as he tilts his head to the side. Long, beautiful hair and plump lips - a beautiful man who could be mistaken as a model. “We know, but we’ve been ordered to come and talk to you about it.” he says calmly, his confident smile quite difficult to decipher.

You stand, arms still crossed and face still stern as the three figures observe you. The third figure takes one step forward. He’s more buff and definitely looks scarier, dark eyes cast in shadows with the cap he wears. “I’ll cut to the chase, Dr. Song. We’re agents from SKZ, and I don’t think I need to explain what SKZ is. Am I right?”

As soon as those words leave the male’s lips, you visibly tense, jaw clenched and eyes sharpened. You glare at the three agents, gritting your teeth, “Tell Jung Hyunseo to leave me out of whatever affairs SKZ has.”

The sharp-eyed male shakes his head, “I’m afraid Jung Hyunseo himself wants you to come with us, Dr. Song. He particularly said it was to be you no matter what.”

“What does SKZ want now?” you hiss, “I left for a reason, and I’m not going back. I think I made that quite clear to your authorities.”

The buff agent sighs, “I don’t know what bad blood you have with SKZ, and I can’t tell you exactly why we need you back right now, but everything will be explained if you just come with us.”

“Cut the crap.” you scoff with a belittling smile, “I’m not going anywhere. Case closed.”

“It’s a matter of life and death, Dr. Song.” the buff male says firmly, “It’s for a cause that could save many.”

“Hmm.” you snarkily laugh, “Now, I’ve heard that one before. Sorry, agents. I’m not going. Give Jung Hyunseo my regards.”

The agent who switched on the lights tries to step forward, opening his mouth to speak, but the buff one holds him back. With one look, the sharp-eyed agent nods his head in understanding, stepping back. The buff agent turns to the long haired one with the same look in his eyes.

The long haired male then walks towards you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Best you come with us now, Dr. Song. Mr. Jung won’t take no for an answer on this matter, and I’m afraid he’ll send that agent for you.”

You gently push him back with your hand on his chest, “He can try. Now, leave.”

The buff agent sighs and gestures for the two to follow him. As they walk past you, the buff agent whispers into your ear, “Try not to be too feisty when the next agent comes. He doesn’t play that nicely.”

“Neither do I,” you start, levelling his sharp gaze, “especially if he pushes it.”

The male smirks in the most subtle way so it’s barely noticeable, “I see.”

With that, the agents leave. You don’t even know how they got in, so you don’t know how they’d leave. Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when the adrenaline fades away and your hands are now shaking.

Seconds later, you briskly walk to your bathroom, locking the door as you ready your bathtub in a frenzied hurry. You lower yourself into the water, allowing the warm liquid to envelope your body in an attempt to relax. Dead silence fills the room with the faint sloshing of water with your minimal movements.

SKZ.

You squeeze your eyes shut as if the name of that organization would be erased from your mind forever. But it does the opposite, taking you back to a time you never wanted to remember.

The sounds of agonizing screams and groans filled your ears as if you were witnessing a horror movie come to life. The smell of rotten corpses and smoke filled your nose, clouding your senses like pollution dirtying the world. You can only stare as a person slammed his hand onto the glass wall, desperately wailing and screaming for you to help him.

The pure horror that filled your veins caused you to freeze in place, bile building up within. The person’s skin started to melt and rot away, revealing things you’d see in your medical classes back then - except this was in a much more gruesome and violent context.

As the person let out one last cry, his eyes rolled back with foam frothing in his mouth. You hated how you’re only able to look away just as it finished. Every inch of your skin was covered in goosebumps, hands shaking and heart pounding. The sounds of other scientists and doctors discussing things were mere whispers despite being next to you.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Write that observation down so we can do something about it.”

“This effect is quite interesting and may prove to be useful.”

You cleared your throat and faced the group of scientists with angry eyes. “You need to stop these experiments now!” you yelled, “You are taking too many lives!”

One scientist rolled his eyes, “Dr. Song, have you forgotten your place? Why you’re here?”

You slammed your hand on the table, “I’m here because I’ve been forced to! I didn’t want this!”

With that, you turn on your heel, keen on talking to the authorities about what you’ve witnessed for the past week. However, as soon as your hand is hovering above the lab’s door access, one scientist grabbed your wrist and twisted harshly, throwing you to the marbled floor. You grimaced at the pain in your ankle and leg, glaring at the scientist as a result.

The scientist threatened to hit you before smirking and laughing, “If you so much as say a word about this to anyone outside this lab, you and your family are joining the test subjects. Got it?”

“And don’t bother being sneaky.” another scientist laughed, “We’ll find out one way or another. Now get up and run some tests on the vials over there. No results within the day, we test on another subject. Quickly now.”

You swallowed the anger bubbling inside you, forcing yourself to get up to grab the said vials. As the group of scientists continue to murmur amongst themselves, you went to the other side of the lab to run whatever tests on the greenish-blue liquid inside the vials. You realized that your hands were still a bit shaky, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

You became a doctor to save lives, not take them.

So when it all became too much - when all you could hear at night was the screams and cries of suffering, you knew you had to do something. It was all still a bit of a blur - or perhaps you just did not want to recall the details - but you somehow remember the day you decided to speak up.

The day gunshots were fired in the lab, explosions here and there. Fighting and more unnecessary death. Some scientists captured and some escaped. You sitting on the lab floor with an empty expression, blood dripping down your face and black smoky soot smudging your skin. An agent you didn’t know or have never seen holding you in his arms, whispering that it was going to be ok as Jung Hyunseo angrily ordered the others to search for the escaped “traitors”.

Days later, you resigned. Jung Hyunseo felt sorry and allowed you to do so, helping you go back to a more “normal life” outside SKZ. He spoke to Gongjak Medical Hospital’s director, using his authority and status as a government agency’s head to give his recommendation for you to work there. Seoul’s top hospital instantly welcomed you as a doctor there, and you prayed it stayed that way.

No matter what, you were never going to so much as glance at SKZ headquarters or even speak about the secret organization.

Your phone, sitting on a small stool next to the bathtub, rang with a text notification, successfully snapping you out of your trip down memory lane. You glance at it, vaguely reading the text from Hyunbin saying “I forgot to text you earlier but...Mr. Lim ate all his food for dinner. Did you scold him again? Hahaha”.

You ignore the text, hugging your legs to your chest as you rest your head on your knees. The water in the tub is no longer warm, and you aren’t sure if it’s water from your hair or tears that are trickling down, but you let your sobs echo across the bathroom either way. Maybe you’d forget everything if you did.

You knew the answer to that.

Meanwhile, back in SKZ’s headquarters, the three agents return and head to one of the lounge areas, plopping onto the couch with heavy sighs. A dimpled agent looks up from his book and smiles sympathetically, “How bad was it?”

“Chan,” the buff agent starts, “it wasn’t bad...she’s just...difficult. I would have used force if it were up to me, but Mr. Jung didn’t want that.”

“What Changbin said. And she’s a bit hostile. Like Minho on his bad days?” the long haired agent whines.

“Hwang Hyunjin.” Minho glares, shaking his head before returning to the book in his hands.

The sharp-eyed agent shrugs, “Either way, she was really adamant on not coming with us. It’s either she’s scared, suspicious or hates SKZ so much...and I wouldn’t know why. Maybe it’s all of the above.”

A freckled agent - Felix - laughs and speaks, “Jeongin, why didn’t you use your charms?”

“Charms? I’m not the seducer, Hyunjin is.” Jeongin states.

“I don’t think Dr. Song is the type to get seduced…” Hyunjin thinks to himself, trailing off.

Another agent with dark brown hair - Seungmin - hums as he leans back on another couch, “Does Mr. Jung know?”

“Yeah, we told him.” Changbin explains, “He...he’s going to send Minho next.”

Minho grimaces, the irritation on his face evident, “Shouldn’t Chan go first or something? Maybe someone nice and sweet and calm would work.”

Chan slings an arm around the other male, laughing, “Or maybe some force needs to be used.”

Minho looks at him with an eyebrow raised, and Chan sighs with a smile, “Ok, not violent force but...someone strong and stubborn.”

“Bang Chan, are you calling me stubborn?” Minho fake gasps.

“You kinda are.” Seungmin points out with a laugh.

The agent with a sharp nose and sparkly eyes groans and leans his head back on the couch, “I am not a babysitter, I’m a field agent. I don’t have the time to deal with a whiney woman who doesn’t want to be here in the first place.”

An agent with round cheeks shrugs, “Mr. Jung seems to know Dr. Song very well and has her in high regard. We must really need her here.”

Jeongin agrees, nodding his head, “Jisung has a point. And we need her soon.”

“Maybe she’ll come if she finally sees Minho’s face. He is handsome and sexy. Who would say no to him?”

“Damn it, Hyunjin - ”

“Anyway,” Changbin interrupts, “I warned Dr. Song to just...comply; not to push Minho’s buttons because we know what he’s capable of and all.”

“I’m not going to kill her.” Minho sighs, rubbing his temples.

Changbin laughs, “No, no. I mean...your whole ‘cut the crap’ attitude. We know you’re most probably going to get irritated with her and might end up fighting or something.”

Minho hums as if he was agreeing, pouting his bottom lip in thought. Chan chuckles, shaking his head, “Maybe you should try being a gentleman with her.”

Minho shakes his head as well. “That isn’t going to work with her, if Changbin, Hyunjin and Jeongin’s encounter is anything to go by.” the agent states, “Might just irritate her more. Look at Seungmin. He’s cranky a lot. Maybe doctors are like that.”

“Minho…” Seungmin sighs, but Jisung and Felix only laugh.

“Well, Minho doesn’t take mission or task failures too well, so I’m sure Dr. Song will be here in no time!” Chan pipes in, earning a chorus of agreements from the other agents.

Minho makes a small nod before sighing. He prays you actually listen and come with him without much trouble.

The next day, you drive yourself to the hospital for another day of work. Things go on normally, and you put on a smile when meeting with your patients. You even laugh and crack jokes with other patients while you visit them in their rooms. You give the little children hugs whenever their parents ask them to thank you for your time; a nice contrast to what happened last night.

But once it’s your lunch break, you sit at one of the hospital’s cafeteria tables, blankly staring into space as you eat your lunch. You don’t even notice the person sitting in front of you until he laughs and says, “You don’t look so good, y/n.”

You snap your eyes up and nearly choke on your food. Swallowing and clearing your throat, you softly chuckle and say, “What makes you say that?”

Hyunbin smiles, leaning forward with a playfully serious expression, “Your face just looks way more exhausted today. And I don’t know...I just feel like something’s bothering you. Didn’t sleep well last night?”

“As expected from one of Gongjak’s best doctors.” you tease, looking at your food with a melancholic expression, “But we’re always going to be exhausted. Part of being a doctor, right?”

The male doctor nods, “I know, but...you are ok, aren’t you?”

You nod, offering a slightly wider smile, “Perfectly.”

The male grins in satisfaction with your answer, leaning back on his chair to talk about his “cute little patients” running around and laughing when they get lollipops after their check-ups. You listen to him share stories, but somewhere along the line, your mind drifts off. To where, you aren’t sure, but it’s definitely not as cute and happy as Hyunbin’s stories.

When the day ends, you’re more than relieved to come home without mysterious agents appearing anywhere in your house. Maybe they’d leave you alone now.

And the next day also goes by smoothly as you work in the hospital. Sure, you had two operations to handle - and one of them nearly went south, but thankfully it didn’t - but nonetheless, it was a smooth and average day for you, and it was as if you forgot all about what happened with the agents the other night.

You wave to Hyunbin before leaving the hospital, laughing as he jokes with a “don’t fall asleep while driving!”. And thankfully, you don’t do that, making it back home quickly and safely.

The stillness that welcomes you once you enter the house is a bit eerie, but it doesn’t seem to bother you that much; after all, it was a bit chilly-weathered recently. You take a nice, quick warm bath before deciding you wanted a midnight snack since you didn’t get to eat dinner courtesy of the two back-to-back emergency operations you had to perform. After slipping into your nightgown and a fluffy robe to keep you warm, you go down to the kitchen.

While preparing a cup of coffee and preparing a quick sandwich, you hear faint rustling somewhere in the house. You don’t own any pets, and your neighbors hardly visited, so the first thought that enters your mind is that the agents are back. It isn’t dread or fear that fills your veins - it’s anger and frustration. You scoff angrily, glancing at the coffee maker and sandwich on the plate before making quick steps towards your study room. Harshly pushing the door open and switching on the lights, you scan the room.

But no one is there.

You look behind your desk and shelves, but still no sign of people. Maybe Hyunbin was right and you were just more tired than usual; maybe your mind was playing tricks. Sighing, you shut the door and resume your business in the kitchen, needing that cup of coffee much more now.

Once the coffee is done brewing, you take the mug and plate in your hands, making your way to your bedroom. Coming home at midnight or past midnight was always accompanied by a cold silence that resulted from all your other neighbors being asleep. But that was probably better than a bustling city filled with horns and drunk people shouting after a night in the club.

You sit on your bed, letting yourself release a deep breath as soon as your body comes into contact with the soft sheets. You munch into your sandwich, absentmindedly letting your gaze drift to the window. The sky is a beautiful shade of blue-violet mixed with inky black, silvery-white stars twinkling here and there. You find yourself smiling at the view; when was the last time you actually stopped to admire something? To actually feel safe and calm? To feel like you were finally free?

You take a sip of coffee and muse on about everything that has happened since you left SKZ; it’s been two years, and you were more than satisfied with working on Gongjak Medical Hospital. Surely, the things that happened in SKZ made you less trusting, but you had one or two friends - including Hyunbin - that you deeply trusted.

But despite that, the trauma still lingered. And you knew more than anyone that you truly would never be free.

You put your coffee cup down on the bedside table, getting up to bring the sandwich plate to the kitchen. However, as soon as your eyes are set on the door, you see a figure leaning against it, arms crossed as he stares - or glares - at you. You sigh, tugging on your robe tighter, “Did Jung Hyunseo send you?”

The figure doesn’t make any sign of expression unlike the previous agents; instead, he remains stone-faced as he pushes himself off the door. “Agent Seo said you’d be difficult. Can we not do that tonight? Things like these aren’t exactly in my job description.” he sighs.

“Then maybe Agent Seo made it clear that I don’t want to comply.” you say sharply.

The male’s eyes narrow in the slightest, and you don’t miss the darkness in them. He has a different aura compared to the other three. With the dim light of your lamp, you can see that he had sharp features - handsome, if you would, but definitely had a sharper and more daunting presence. Cold and steely.

“Yes, he did.” the male starts, putting on a bored act as he adjusts the buttons on his dress shirt’s sleeves, “But I’m here to make sure you don’t say ‘no’ again.”

“SKZ can’t force me against my will, even if they are some organization or agency.” you point out, irritation rising once more, “I have my rights.”

The agent huffs, crossing his arms again, “Listen, Dr. Song. I don’t want to be here, yet here I am. Mr. Jung personally requested your presence. You seem like a smart person, judging by how he holds you with such high regard, so can you at least hear him out?”

You roll your eyes, picking the plate from your bedside table. You slip your slippers on and ignore the agent, opting to head for the door yourself. You reach past him to hold onto the door knob, twisting it and pulling the door open as best as you can. Unlike Changbin, this agent refused to budge or leave. In fact, he grabs your wrist quite strongly and slams the door shut; the loud bang startles you in the slightest, causing your eyes to widen despite your urge not to. No, you refuse to show any sign of uneasiness.

The agent grabs the plate from you while still holding onto your wrist tightly. “Please do not test me, Dr. Song. My colleagues wanted to make sure I don’t hurt you, and I personally don’t do such things, so please, don’t push it.”

“Would you hurt me?” you challenge, levelling the male’s glare with sharp eyes, “Because I’m not as weak as you think.”

A lie. A complete and utter lie. Yes, you were strong-willed, but emotionally, mentally and physically strong? No. You were smart, but you were anything but strong. You believed you were weak. You refuse to face the past and move on from it. That’s what makes you weak, you thought.

“Wow.” the agent smirks, “Dr. Song, I don’t want to hurt you if I don’t need to. You aren’t a target; you’re the mission.”

With the last sentence, he grips your wrist just a bit tighter. Infuriated, you grit your teeth and harshly yank your arm away from him, quickly turning on your heel to run and grab your phone from the bed. Who were you going to call? Hyunbin? The hospital director? The police? You didn’t know, but you surely wanted this agent out of your sight.

You grabbed your phone to dial whoever’s number, but just as your finger is about to press the contacts app, the agent is in front of you, taking the phone in his hand and tossing it to the carpeted floor with a dull thud. You stare at him in mixed anger and disbelief, opening your mouth to shout some insult. However, a yelp is what comes out of your mouth instead because the agent tangles one of his legs with yours, tugging at your ankle to trip you.

With the momentum, you fall to your bed behind, back landing on the mattress with the agent above you, one hand still gripping your wrist. You have no fighting experience, and clearly engaging in a fight with someone who was trained seemed like the worst possible choice of action. Yet you did.

Without hesitation, you swing your free arm in a sorry attempt to slap the agent, but he easily catches your wrist with his other hand, now pinning your own hands above your head. You look up at the agent with a gaze burning with anger. “What fucked up crap has SKZ gotten themselves into this time?” you hiss, on the verge of raising your voice, “Why do they need me?”

Despite your outburst, the agent remains emotionless, disposition composed and collected much to your dismay. “You’ll find out if you come with me, Dr. Song.” he responds calmly, raising an eyebrow, “I don’t want to knock you out to do that.”

You try to wriggle your hands out of his grip and kick with your legs, but the agent holds your wrists tighter and pins your hips down with his own. His facial expression is still quite blank, but the furrow in his eyebrows tells you he is mildly - or maybe very - exasperated already. “Knock me out? Enlighten me how.” you spit out.

“You’re the doctor, Dr. Song. I’m sure you’re knowledgeable on gases that could do that. Or…” the agent remains expressionless, but there’s a haughty color in his eyes as he brings a hand to your cheek, gently caressing with his knuckles, “...I could hit you, which is what I do to our targets, but as I’ve said, I personally don’t want to do that.”

You can only stare at the male, eyebrows knit together in an upset manner as all the fight and anger in your body dissolves, tensed muscles weakening as the unfavorable position you’re in finally registers in your mind. When the agent blinks, you vaguely take note of his long eyelashes, a delicate contrast to his sharp and strong features.

“What will it be, Dr. Song?” he whispers, breath mingling with yours.

You shut your eyes, deflating as you sigh, “Fine. But if I hear what Jung Hyunseo has to say and I don’t like it, I have the right to refuse to assist SKZ.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid not.” the agent finally lets go of your wrists and clambers off of you, fixing and tucking in his dress shirt into his slacks, “If you refuse or run away, Mr. Jung will persistently send agent after agent for you until you fully return or help SKZ.”

“And once I help? Once I’m finished? Will SKZ finally and genuinely let me go and live?”

“Yes, Dr. Song.”

“Shit, fine. This is the last, I swear.”

You could have kept saying “no” in all honesty, but the prospect of an agent coming into your house - or worse, directly kidnapping or abducting you by force - was not something you wanted to think about; that would just make your life more miserable.

The agent lets you get dressed in your bathroom for privacy, but he waits in your room to make sure you don’t sneak out or run from him. Afterwards, he tells you to quickly follow him, which you do because you don’t really have a choice. Once in the black car with tinted windows, you sink into the passenger’s seat, a very big frown on your face as you look outside at the city lights. The agent himself is quiet as well, focused on driving rather quickly.

The buzzing silence in the car is then interrupted when his phone rings; he accepts the call with the speakers on so you could technically hear the voice of the person speaking: Jung Hyunseo, no doubt.

“Agent Lee, what’s the update?”

The male agent doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he answers, “She’s with me, sir.”

“I knew I could count on you.” Hyunseo chuckles lightly, “Thank you, Minho. See you back in HQ.”

When the call ends, and Minho stops the car as the traffic light turns red, he cranes his neck to face you, expression still annoyingly vague and basically emotionless. “Please do behave once we’re in HQ.” he says, “You may hate SKZ, but we all expect you to adhere to the rules, alright, doctor?”

You don’t even have the desire to respond, rolling your eyes as Minho breaks eye contact to focus on the road as the traffic light turns green.

Two years away from SKZ, and here you were, being dragged back into the place you desperately wanted to get away from.

Lee Minho.

You’d remember that agent’s name. Whether you went willingly or not, you had a feeling Lee Minho, on Jung Hyunseo’s command, would find one way or another to bring you back, and that was what affected you the most.

It was going to be his fault you were back.

#stayhavennet #lee know #lee know scenario #lee know imagine #minho #stray kids minho #minho scenario #minho imagine #stray kids minho imagine #stray kids minho scenario #stray kids #skz #imagine #scenario #lee know x reader #minho x reader #secret agent au #spy au #spy #secret agent #au #series: trust fall #s: trust fall

[midnightlee25]

Yandere ABC: Worick arcangelo

A Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He is very affectionate and can be very handsy.

B Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

It's already messy with the work he does but it will get even messier depending about what they did.

C Cruelty : How would they treat their darling  

He can be a bit cruel at times however he's cruel in that he will show you what happens to the people who get on his bad side and not really to you. It's more getting a point across than anything else.

D Delusional : How aware are they?

Not really delusional per say but he does have his moments.

E Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

It will take a pretty long time (especially if you fight him) but slowly over time he will become vulnerable although it will only be when you two are alone.

F Fight : How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Maybe a bit irritated at times but he knows if his charm didn't work then you would so he mostly just rolls with it knowing at some point you'll give up.

H Hell :What would be their darling’s worst experience?

There was this one time when he got super pissed there was someone trying to help you and it worked when worick came back (already having a crap day) to find you gone. He nearly tore the city apart looking for you when he did finally find you. He was dead silent tying you to a pipe before taking care of the one that helped all while you watched in horror after he was done, he draped you back to Benriya. You've never seen him like that and lucky haven't since then so now you try to still be on his good side.

I Ideals : What is their plan for the future?

Just to have a peaceful life with you in his (older) age not having to worry about much.

J Jealousy : How jealous are they when it comes to their darling?

He can be fairly jealous when it comes to anyone getting too close for his liking.

K Knowledgeable : How much would they try to learn about their darling?

Base stuff at first than whatever else he needs when the time comes.  

L Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He would be his usual flirty self, flowers, complements the whole nine yards.

M Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really maybe a bit bloodier but pretty much the same.

N Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

With intimidation or scaring you with what he can really do.

O Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You can go wherever you want as long as he's around unless you've been fighting him then it's locked in a room.

P Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He can be patient (unless he had a bad day than all bets are off but he will make up for it.)

Q Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Numb at this point numb even if he were to find another it wouldn't be the same.

R Regret : Would they feel guilty? Would they let go?

Only if you get hurt (even by accident.) he will feel bad but other than that no.

S Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc.)?

It's always been lurking; he knows that if he ever found ‘the one’ he would do anything to keep them.

T Tears : How do they feel about their darling crying, screaming, and/or throwing a tantrum

If he sees you cry, he’ll hold you close until you stop. Throwing a tantrum on the other hand he'll wait it out not really doing anything as well as irritated but know it had to stop at some point.

U Unique : Does anything make them different from the classic yandere?

You can say he's a bit more dangerous than most as well as not being that delusional but other than that not really anything makes him stand out that much.

V Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

It's very hard to trick him and even more so to use something against him so your best bet would be just to leave Ergastulum and never look back.

W Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

no, at least not intentionally (but accidents happen).

X Xoanon : How much would they worship their darling?

He would treat you better than most but not like a god/goddess.

Y Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Depends on what you do for work or if you're in a relationship (he doesn't want anyone else touching you but him) but since he will use his charm first then he can wait but like a wolf in sheep's clothing he will snap at some point.

Z Zeal : How passionate would they be? Would they be passionate enough to break their darling?

He is very passionate so it isn't so far out there that could be the thing that breaks you but it's not the only thing.

#yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere gangsta #yandere worick #gangsta worick #worick arcangelo #worick #worick headcanons #yandere worick headcanons

[marshmallow-phd]

Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary:  This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

                                        ********

The bright sun felt warm against Gwen’s skin. Chae Ryung half-heartedly chastised her about burning her face, but Gwen hardly gave a listen. It felt like it had been years since she’d simply stopped and took in the light. All she ever did was go to work, do her schoolwork, and watch dramas. She never really took much time for simply… being. After a minute or so, Chase Ryung convinced her to keep walking through the courtyard, but she still went slow, taking in everything.  

The other servants would stop in the middle of their work and glance at Gwen in a fashion they might have thought was sneaky, but was, in fact, fairly obvious. Some gave looks of concern, others, it felt like, of awe. Gwen ran her fingers through her hair, the red catching in the sunlight. She stuck out more here than she ever did back home and it made her stomach queasy. 

“So, Chae Ryung,” Gwen finally said, “what is it that I usually do during the day?”

“All day?” she echoed. She pursed her lips side to side as she thought. “Mostly you keep Lady Hae company. She’s a bit lonely as Prince Suho’s wife. You’re the closest to her station here.”

Suho. An interesting name for a prince. I remembered Papa inquiring after the pale but beautiful woman in ornate clothing. “And she’s sick?”

Chae Ryung nodded sorrowfully. After looking over her shoulder, she lowered her voice as she leaned in. “Some are worried that she doesn’t have much longer and the prince still doesn’t have an heir.”

“Is it that bad?” 

Chae Ryung nodded again. Gwen’s heart went out to the beautifully tragic woman. In the single moment she’d met the Lady of the household, Gwen could tell that she had a kind heart. The look of worry and concern was etched in her mind, not a single twitch giving away possible deception. Spending her days with Lady Hae didn’t seem like too terribly a time. Perhaps she could be another person to lean on, to help Gwen when she stumbled. Because she would certainly be stumbling every other step in this place. 

Gwen and Chae Ryung wandered around the grounds for hours, the latter filling Gwen in on what she couldn’t put together for herself. 

Apparently, this Gwen had had a tendency to be a bit rambunctious, taking liking to archery just as much as needlework. Often, she would be caught joining in the servant boys in whatever rough game they were playing that day. Not exactly a good look for the daughter of a wealthy merchant. It had to be a comical sight, the horrified looks this girl must have produced from the other women around the household as a child. But over the last few years, she’d calmed to be a bit more demure. Chae Ryung went into explaining the wide gray area Gwen was given as an outsider. Though this girl knew the rules of society, she was able to bend them ever so slightly. 

Excellent. 

Coming up on the path was a pond, round and expanding, the edges lined with tall grass and fresh flowers that gave off calming scents. A family of little ducks floated on top of the clear water. Fish in bright colors of oranges and yellows swam freely, their tails creating the slightest ripples on the surface. As they walked around the water, Chae Ryung described a beautiful gazebo that this Gwen apparently loved to hide away in when she wanted to be alone. Disappointingly, though, the gazebo was already occupied by the Prince and Lady Hae. 

Looking like a happy but conservative couple, they drank tea together and spoke softly. Prince Suho smiled at his wife as he brought the teacup to his lips, but as his eyes drifted over to the spot where Gwen stood, the smile changed. 

It deepened, almost. An uncomfortable feeling settled in Gwen’s stomach. She smiled back, though, and waved, to remain polite. She was probably reading into things or misunderstanding them. Prince Suho held back a laugh before turning back to his wife. She still didn’t fully understand the dynamics of this world and could easily misinterpret his actions. And her head still slightly throbbed, so that could be clouding her thoughts as well. 

“It’s inappropriate to stare at a married couple’s private moments,” a high voice snipped. 

Confused, Gwen turned to find an elegantly dressed girl close to her age. Or, rather, this body’s age since this Gwen was a few years younger than the body she’d left behind. 

This new girl’s face was pretty, but it was destroyed by the snobbish and self-satisfied look she wore. Chae Ryung bowed deeply, but Gwen stayed erect. Bowing was not something that came as second nature to her and she didn’t want to do it for just anyone. Not surprisingly, this defiance deepened the annoyance on the girl’s face even more. Sensing danger, Chae Ryung forced Gwen into a bow.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” Chae Ryung said with a shaky voice. She gave Gwen a pointed glance that was ignored. 

“Apparently, not only have you forgotten your memories, but the few manners you ever had as well,” her highness sniffed. “I would be happy to be your teacher. Maybe we can make you a more respectful person this time around.” 

“Perhaps we have two different definitions of respect.”

It was subtle, but the girl’s smile strained, stiffening and tightening in the corners. Gwen knew that irritated look all too well from high school. The girls of the popular crowd would often shift into this body language whenever Gwen ignored their insults or countered them with a response they weren’t expecting. It had made her extremely unpopular, but that was never important to her. All she ever cared about was getting out and graduating. It was sad that mean girls had existed back in this time as well.  

“How dare you speak to me that way,” the girl hissed. “You think because you’re a freak of nature you can do and say as you please?”

“Just because I look different from you doesn’t mean that I’m a freak of nature!” Gwen shouted. Her nails dug into her palms as she tried to reign in the urge to respond physically. That particular subject had always been a sore spot for her. She didn’t think she was ugly, per se, but she wasn’t a beauty. Society’s standards, as ever changing as they were, always felt too far out of her reach. “Pretty” was not something she ever saw in the mirror. And, unfortunately, this body held the same face. 

“What is going on here?”

Gwen stiffened at the Prince’s voice behind her. Slowly, she turned around and bowed deeply. Prince Suho had abandoned his wife at the gazebo to investigate. She hadn’t meant to ruin his date, especially since they probably didn’t get many moments like this. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, Your Highness.”

Prince Suho looked past her to the girl and then back at Gwen. “Perhaps, it’s best for you to go back inside, Lady Gwen. I don’t want you to tire yourself out and I fear it might get colder. ”

Nodding, Gwen bowed again and walked away. There was no point in arguing. Besides, she didn’t want to hang around this self-important girl, who she didn’t dare give a passing glance to and give her the satisfaction of besting her. Once out of sight, however, Gwen’s bravado deflated. 

“Who was that girl?” She bit her bottom lip in a very unladylike manner as she slouched against the outer wall of a red-painted building. 

Chae Ryung tutted nervously. “That was Princess Yeon Hwa. You’re lucky that her brother stepped in.”

That girl was Prince Suho’s sister? Gwen shuddered, feeling sorry for Suho since he had to be related to her. “Mom always said I was too spiteful. But I wasn’t being disrespectful by looking for five seconds. They just looked like a scene out of a movie.”

“A movie?”

Oh, crap. There you go again. “A novel. I meant a novel. They looked like a scene from a book.”

“Oh!” Chae Ryung nodded, though she wore an expression of confusion. “Still it would have been better to apologize and walk away.”

Gwen shrugged. “Maybe next time.” 

Looking up at the blue sky, Gwen wanted to pout. It was such a nice day. Even with these layers of clothes, she wasn’t too hot and a nice breeze played with her hair. But Prince Suho had told her to go inside. He must have figured she would cause less trouble there. He also said it might get colder. Gwen hated being cold. 

“When I have to stay inside, where do I like to go?” she asked as she looked ot her friend. 

Chae Ryung grinned from ear to ear. She seemed excited as she took hold of Gwen’s wrist and pulled her along to a building near the middle of the compound. It wasn’t a large building, with spaces barely able to be called rooms. That hardly deterred the excitement bubbling up in Gwen’s chest. 

Inside were wooden shelves, thin and easily seen through. But unlike the thick, hardbound novels Gwen was used to, the books stacked here were thinner, flimsy and held together with twine. Another servant girl shuffled up before they stepped into the room. Chae Ryung was needed elsewhere. She urged Gwen to go on ahead and stay at the library for a few hours. 

Within the shelves, she lost herself. 

Reading was always a comfort to Gwen, but she tended to lean towards adventurous fiction filled with romance and challenge. She doubted she would find such stories in the Prince’s library. If she could even read these manuscripts. 

Gwen blinked, reflecting on her presence here. Somehow, she was able to communicate with the others despite the fact that they weren’t speaking English. The real Gwen’s knowledge - at least, with speaking and reading - somehow had remained behind. As her eyes drifted over the Chinese characters written on the spines, she understood what they said. A small laugh escaped her lips. She’d always wanted to know more than one language. All it took was being transported back in time to a different body. 

From what Gwen could make out of the titles of the volumes, they were mostly science based - medical treatments and catalogs of animals and plants - along with a few recorded histories. There were no fictional stories to be found, so Gwen went for the next best thing and grabbed a book that recounted the story of how King Taejo founded Goryeo. 

The wording was a bit dry and straight forward, the author giving only the occasional flourish here and there. Still, like any written word, it absorbed her attention. To receive a recount of history from a source so close to the time that it happened was not to be taken lightly. Gwen walked through the aisles as she read, unaware that another visitor had arrived. In the middle of a sentence about a deciding battle, her pacing was stopped by a soft wall. She looked up and sucked in her breath. 

Prince Suho.

She bowed, thinking that her back would start aching from all this bending over. “I’m sorry, again, for earlier,” she whispered. It was a sincere apology. Though it wasn’t her fault, she’d egged it on and caused the Prince trouble, which in turn could cause trouble for this Gwen’s father. Both men had been kind to her since she woke up and she didn’t want to repay that kindness by being a burden. 

Instead of acknowledging her apology, Prince Suho asked, “Do you really not remember anything?”

Gwen shook her head, unable to meet his eye. She could feel his gaze seering onto her face, however. Warmth tickled at her cheeks and she hoped that it wasn’t a visible heat. The Prince was handsome, with a strong chin and kind eyes. He spoke softly.

“Do you remember why you were at the bathhouse?”

Gwen snapped her head up, confused. Why would he be asking her about a bathhouse? “The bathhouse?” She knew nothing about a bathhouse or what this Gwen would be doing there. 

He sighed. “Truly?” Did he not believe her? Did he think she was faking it to avoid getting into trouble? 

“I-” she stopped. Would she be punished for something she didn’t even do? She tried to be as sincere and honest as possible. She didn’t know what could be done to her if he didn’t believe her. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Prince Suho didn’t look receptive to her answer, but he backtracked anyway as he looked away. “Perhaps I was merely seeing things,” he murmured to himself. Regaining eye contact, he took a step to shorten the space between them. “When I invited you and your father to stay here, I took it upon myself to look after you, knowing your foreignness would make you a target. I’m afraid I’ve neglected on that duty. It has caused Lady Hae great worry.”

Gwen took a step back, her hands behind her back. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I think I’m causing you more trouble than I’m worth. I promise, I’ll watch my steps from now on. The last thing I want is to be in the way. If you need anything, I’ll do it. I want to be a help, not a burden.” He nodded, the expression on his face softening slightly. Feeling the conversation was over with that last declaration, she bowed and scurried out of the library after replacing the historical text. 

With that haven now compromised, Gwen concluded the best place for her to go was back to her room until dinner. 

                                                    ********

After a few days of managing to stay out of trouble, Gwen ran into Lady Hae on one of her leg-stretching walks. She didn’t seem to be upset about the incident at the gazebo, though she was disappointed that Gwen hadn’t come to see her. Gwen stumbled through an apology, not realizing that she would be so missed. In fact, she thought she was doing everyone a favor by staying out of the way. 

Accepting the apology, Lady Hae asked if Gwen would like to learn how to make lotus lanterns for the upcoming festival. Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise. Thinking it would be fun and distracting, she agreed and followed Lady Hae to one of the buildings with open walls that allowed a gentle breeze to keep them cool. The temperature hadn’t dropped like Prince Suho had predicted. When Gwen saw who was already at work in the building, she instantly regretted her decision to join. A groan was barely suppressed as she sat down beside Lady Hae.

“Lady Hae, I see you brought a friend,” Yeon Hwa sneered cheerfully. 

It took willpower, but Gwen managed to ignore the princess’s snide remark, instead focusing on Lady Hae’s explanation of how to put the lanterns together. The glue had a potent smell that stung at Gwen’s nose. No wonder they were in a building that allowed the air to drift in and out. It took a few poor looking lanterns for her to get the hang of it, but finally they looked worthy of being hung up for other people to see. Glancing over at Yeon Hwa’s, Gwen huffed internally. Though they were the same design, the princess’ were begrudgingly far superior.

“Lady Gwen,” Yeon Hwa called out. A faux-sweet smile stretched across her lips. “Why don’t you go take the dry lanterns and put them in the Moon building for storage until the festival?” 

Gwen returned a smile just as fake. “Of course.” 

Chae Ryung, who had joined the group soon after Gwen’s arrival, stepped forward. “I can take them, my lady.”

 “Lady Gwen is perfectly capable of carrying them herself,” Yeon Hwa snapped. The evil look gleamed in her eyes, as if she were punishing Gwen with such menial labor. 

Little did she know the request didn’t bother Gwen in the slightest. She was giving the perfect excuse to leave her presence. While making the lanterns, Gwen’s mind had wandered towards the village beyond the walls and - with everyone occupied here – sneaking out on her own should be easy enough. She wanted to see more of this world that she now resided in. 

Filling up her arms with as much as they could carry, Gwen shuffled up the hill, following the directions Chae Ryung had given to the Moon building. 

“Gwen, you’re out of your room.”

Papa walked up, a smile on his face causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. He seemed out of place in the Goryeo fashion he donned, yet comfortable as the shiny fabric swayed around his legs. He wore the hanbok with dignity and ease. Back home, Gwen prefered less complicated clothing and was still adjusting to the multilayered dresses that needed an extra pair of hands to put on.

“Yes,” Gwen said. “I was helping Lady Hae make lanterns for the festival.” She held them up proudly for him to see.

“Those are very beautiful,” he complimented. Gwen’s smile stretched farther across her lips at the praise. “I’m happy to see that you’re getting back to your old self.”

The joy in his eyes was almost too overwhelming. Gwen thought back to her own father, with whom she was close. They seemed so much alike. Tears threatened to brim her eyes. Within the last few days, she’d grown an affection for this man. He was patient with her and caring. And, as an outsider himself, a small connection that she clung to. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Papa.”

“I have some business to oversee at the house. Please, stay out of trouble.” He gave her a kiss on the head and resumed in the direction he was headed before.

Continuing on her own way, Gwen barely reached the steps of the Moon building before a man in brown clothes ran, bowed, and took the lanterns to store them. He must have been a servant in the Prince’s household. She hadn’t seen him before but she gladly handed the lanterns over. Thankful that her task was now over, she waited and watched as the servant hung the lanterns up on a long string inside the open doors. Now it was time to explore. Taking a different path, she headed for the gate.  

This place was certainly different. Monarchies weren't as widespread in her own time, most nations having moved on to people-elected governments instead of blood-appointed kings. Though it was different, Gwen appreciated the underlining respect that drove this culture. The differences in formal and informal speech and the hierarchy of that respect ran deep within the people. The mutual heritage they all shared made her a bit jealous. She was from a place that didn’t have that. 

The sound of drums broke through her thoughts. They were deep, rhythmic, calling out to anyone who wanted to listen. Answering the call, Gwen followed them. 

In a giant dirt courtyard near the palace stood about six figures, some dressed in red, others in black. They were spaced equally apart in a square structure. Gwen hid among the archways, too fascinated to walk away like she should have. The figures danced in unison and with power – except one of the men in red, who was lacking enthusiasm and proper rhythm. The others noticed and stopped their dance, the drums fading out as well. They all stared at the one who had finished incorrectly as he flopped down to the ground. Gwen covered her mouth to soften the giggled. He was throwing a fit. A grown man by the looks of him, he was acting like a spoiled child. Among the figures was Prince Suho, who seemed exasperated at the situation.

So, those must be the other princes. 

This festival must be important, if royalty was performing. Gwen made a mental note to have Chae Ryung explain it in more detail when she went back to the compound.

A few of the princes ganged up on the one on the ground, criticizing him for still getting the moves wrong after such a long practice. Huffing, the one on the ground jumped up. He pointed a long finger and accused another brother of making a mistake as well. Gwen laughed loudly at their altercation, the noise pushing through her fingers. Prince Suho glanced up in her direction. She took off, scared to be caught. 

Once among the common people, Gwen’s mind eased. She wandered around the city, trying to ignore the whispers and stares that followed. The market was abundant with people. Men gossiped with their friends while the women picked over the vegetables and meats, inspecting for any impurities. Children played loudly and ran through the streets, uncaring if their feet were covered in mud. Different stalls caught Gwen’s attention, some selling soaps and bath grains, others selling intricate hairpins that sparkled under the sun. She made a mental note to ask Papa to come with her next time to buy a few wares. Maybe Chae Ryung could teach her how to place the pins in her hair. 

Leaving behind the market, Gwen came to a small bridge over a shallow river. The water flowed steadily, uninterrupted. She stared down at her blurry reflection, wondering how she could still look so much like herself. There was no railing to obstruct the view, so she bent down for a closer look. 

The face looking back was still round and pale, the soft jaw line giving a youthful appeal. Red hair fell natural, gentle waves that never liked to obey. Not even the multiple hairpins keeping it out of her face could tame it completely. Sea green eyes sat in hooded sockets on either side of a thin nose and average lips. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose and apples of her large cheeks from years of sun exposure. Forced to come back to a time that wasn’t hers, the least magic could have done was improve her looks. 

The cries of the villagers reached her ears too late. Searching for the source of the hysterics, Gwen stood and turned as the villagers ducked out of sight. A mad man on a black horse galloped through the market. The rider didn’t care about others around him. He didn’t look back behind him or stop to check on those who dived out of his path. A villager with a traveling pack hanging from his shoulders scurried across the bridge to run away from the rider. In his haste, he knocked into Gwen. She lost her balance, flailing her arms worthlessly, and began to fall into the river that had served as my mirror just moments ago. She closed her eyes and braced for impact with the surly cold water. But it didn’t come.

A steadfast grip snatched her by her waist. When she opened her eyes to see who had saved her from the water, she was face to face with the rider.

#exo #exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #scarlet heart au #exo time travel au #exo fantasy au #exo fantasy!au #exo angst #exo series #exo x oc #exo x original character #exo ot9 #kim minseok #xiumin #kim junmyeon #suho #zhang yixing #lay #byun baekhyun #kim jongdae #chen #park chanyeol #d.o. #do kyungsoo #kim jongin #kai #oh sehun #Scarlet Moon

[dizzydancingdreamer]

What Am I? | Kol Mikaelson

Hello my lovelies! Am I back doing my thing where I write for three days straight and then go missing for three weeks? Probably! But I’m not one to complain so I’m going to ride out this streak of inspiration for as long as I can! I’m not sure if any of you had the joy to read any of the chaos between @activist-af and I but if you did than you know exactly how I feel about Kol. Perhaps this can be my ode to him. Until next time, all my love <3

Description: Kol finally breaks from all the years of feeling like the bad guy

Pairing: Female!Reader x Kol Mikaelson

Warnings: It’s angsty at the beginning but it’s fine

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Angst, Fluff

P.S. I strongly recommend listening to Paralyzed by NF while you read this because I had it on a loop the whole time and it really sets the mood

(Pics not mine but mood board is :) )

“Kol, stop!” your lungs are burning, your legs numb from trying to keep up with him.

He storms across the compound, not quite at full speed but fast enough to ensure you have to run to keep up with him. His shoulders are tense, his eyes locked in front of him. You can feel the anger rolling off of him in thick, hot waves. You’re not a vampire by any means but you don’t need super senses to understand how dangerous he is at this moment. Whatever, you don’t care. He’s not going to ignore you, you won’t let him.

“Fuck, Kol!” you grab his arm, tugging with all your strength, “god damnit, stop walking! Talk to me!”

He yanks his arm forward but you don’t let go. Instead your body swings forward with his movements, bringing you closer to him than you’ve been able to get all day. You shake your head. All week would be more accurate. Your best friend has been avoiding you all damn week and you have no idea why. You’re done waiting for him to tell you. If you have to rip away every layer of him to get to the bottom of this, you will.

“Let go of me, y/n,” he continues to stare forward, his jaw tight, “I don’t have time for this.”

You scoff, trying to ignore the way your chest stings, “no time for what, Kol? Me? What on earth is going on?”

He just clenches his jaw tighter, looking to the side. This time your chest feels like it’s being cracked open. You let go of his hand, taking a few steps away from him. You don’t know what the fuck has gotten into him but you don’t like it, not one bit. This isn’t your Kol. Your Kol is sweet. This is a monster. You haven’t ever dared to think of him as such but today, you suppose, his true colors are showing. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

The silence after your words is deafening but it doesn’t last long, seconds at the most. It’s like a dam breaks in Kol. No, that’s not strong enough. It’s like the tectonic plates inside him shift and it sends a tsunami storming to the surface. He whirls around, a myriad of emotions swirling through his eyes. He takes a step towards you, a darkness you’ve never seen hanging over his features. You take a step back, you're not completely stupid. You have no misconceptions about what’s happening. You’re the beach in this situation, and you’re about to get destroyed. 

“You really want to know who I am?” He takes another step towards you, a tiger on the prowl. 

You raise your chin but still step further away from him. He’s never hurt you before. Hell, he’s never even yelled at you. But today there’s something in his eyes, something dangerous, and you’re only a human. You grit your teeth, feeling much weaker than the front you’re putting on. 

“I know who you are and this isn’t it!” you spit the words at him, hoping they’ll break through the storm that’s clouding his features.

He laughs but it’s dry; humorless. Your heart zaps again. He’s still moving towards you and you’re still moving away from him.  This game of cat and mouse is slowly becoming lethal.

“No, darling, you don’t,” despite the circumstances you can’t stop the way your body sings at his term of endearment, “you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

You take another step back and freeze, your back colliding with the wall. Crap. You hold your arms out towards him but he doesn’t stop, closing the space between you and him even when your hands land on his chest. You can feel the heat rolling off of him through the shirt he’s wearing. He’s like a furnace, lulling you despite the clear threat he poses. You dig your nails into his chest, pushing back with as much fire as you can muster.

“Kol, please, you know that’s not true,” you back your head against the wall, biting your lip at the slight pain, “just talk to me. Please. You’re scaring me.”

You’ve never had to say those words before and you hate them but not as much as you hate the way Kol flinches, like he’s taken a bullet, and backs away from you. He drags a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes squeezed shut. Your breath hitches, your blood running cold. When he opens his eyes they’re glassy. If your chest felt like it was being ripped open before, now it feels like someone reached inside the crack and tore out your heart. 

“I-,” Kol stares into your eyes for a moment before turning away from you, “you need to go. Now. Don’t come back.”

You can’t breathe, you're just stuck, glued to the wall while all the oxygen is sucked from the room. You’re helpless, watching him walk away. Your heart is in his hands but you can’t get it back. You can’t move. You don’t want it back anyway. It means nothing without him. You slide down the wall, your eyes glued to his retreating figure. 

No. You furrow your eyebrows. No, he doesn’t get to walk away from you, not after this long. Who does he think he is? You push yourself up, a wave of red hot something flooding your entire being. It laces your blood with fire, one you’re pretty sure can only be quelled by the man walking away from you. You don’t think, you just go. 

You clear the space between the two of you in seconds, your hands once more wrapping around his arm, “No, you don’t get to walk away like that. You don’t get to leave me, Kol Mikaelson! I won’t let you!” 

He freezes, his body going tense. He doesn’t try and yank his arm out of your grasp again. You stare at him, refusing to look away, afraid that if you do he’ll disappear. He sucks in a breath, swallowing harshly. You watch his adam's apple bob and fight the agonoy eating at your core. Come on Kol, turn around. 

As if hearing your thoughts he spins around, his arm breaking from your grasp. You don’t have time to feel anything from it, though, before he grabs your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. When you do you gasp, a chill running down your spine. His eyes are pitch black, nothing near their usual honey shade, and the skin around them is a sickly purple, dark blue veins running towards his cheeks. 

He sucks in another harsh breath, his nostrils flaring and his chest brushing yours, “do you honestly think that I could ever leave you?” he laughs bitterly, his eyes flitting over your face, “I couldn’t leave you if I tried. But I need to. Don’t you fucking get it? I’m a monster!”

This time it’s you who flinches. You wrap your hands around his arm, clinging to him as his words pour over you. You can’t breathe again but this time it’s a little different. It’s less agony and more breathlessness. You tighten your fingers, trying with everything you have to anchor yourself to him. 

“No you’re not,” you grit your teeth, meeting his harsh stare head on, “you’re not a monster, Kol! You’re so many things but you’re not a monster. You can’t be.”

His grip on your jaw lessens, his shoulders sagging. The black in his eyes begins fading, the veins receding and leaving nothing but his usual dark circles. Your heart clenches at the sight. He clearly hasn’t been sleeping. 

“Yes I am,” he mutters, his voice rough, “all I do is hurt people. Fuck, I’m hurting you right now!” 

You shake your head, trying to push back the flood of tears that suddenly blurs your vision, “No, Kol, you’re not,” your voice is thick, the lump in your throat a mountain, “you could never hurt me. Not in the way you’re thinking. You only hurt me by leaving me. Please, don’t leave me.” 

His hand fully loosens as he slumps to the floor, your words the final push to his crumbling will. He buries his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking. He’s crying. You are too, your heart in pieces at the sight of your best friend. The man you love. The best thing you’ve ever had now reduced to his knees. Pain explodes in your chest and your palms sting, an icy burn running up your arms and hitting your heart dead on. 

He lifts his head, revealing bloodshot eyes laced through with hell itself, “I don’t even know who I am anymore. I can’t separate anything in my head. The anger and the hurt, all of it! I can’t remember where I stop and everyone else starts. Who the fuck am I?” His voice cracks and, with it, your heart, “I’m just this fuck up to everyone but I haven’t even had the chance fuck up!” 

Your chest aches desperately for the man at your feet. You know what he’s talking about. A thousand years of life and yet only awake for a fraction of it. That would make any reasonable being crumble and it would take significantly less than a thousand years for most. You don’t know how the hell he does it. You haven’t died once. You’re only supposed to die once. He’s died a hundred times. Oh, Kol. You drop to your knees and pull him against you, crushing him to your chest to the best of your abilities.

“You don’t have to know who you are. I know who you are, Kol, and I’ve always known. You’re the strongest person I know. You’re my best friend. You’ve fought off death, and hunger, and your family. You don’t have to fight me off too!” you run your hands through his hair, pulling his face to meet yours, “you can rest now. You’re mine, Kol Mikaelson, that’s all you need to know.”

It’s surreal, to say the least, telling a vampire who he is. He should know better than anyone. After all, he’s supposed to have had a thousand years to figure out. Your chest squeezes painfully when you think of the years that were stolen from him. You run your fingers over his cheek, your thumb swiping some stray tears. 

He leans his face into your hand and you sag against him, cool relief fighting the fire in your veins. It’s the sweetest feeling you’ve ever experienced. Kol wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him. Even when kneeling he towers over you, curling around you. You can’t stop the sobs from coming and you don’t want to, gripping his shirt painfully. A week's worth of fear and worry pours out of you and he takes it like the rock he is. Maybe you’re the tsunami and he’s the beach after all.

He slips a hand into your hair, tugging gently to make you look at him, “I’m yours?”

His eyes are red rimmed and full of something that makes you ache. His lips swollen and red. His hair, mussed from your hands and his, sticks up at all angles. It doesn’t make him look bad, though. No, it makes him look like a fallen angel. His skin catches the light, a golden hue painting his features, pooling in the circles under his eyes. Your hands tighten on his button down, if that’s possible, and you swallow hard. He’s yours and you aren’t letting him go, not for the next thousand years. 

“Yes,” you nod your head hard, trying to drill into him how , “yes, you are. All mine. Just like me to you. I’m all yours Kol. Every part of me.”

His eyes darken again and the ache intensifies, curling around each nerve in your body and setting everything on fire. He’s no longer an angel. Who are you kidding, he was never one in the first place. He’s always been your demon, the one who crawled straight from hell to be with you. Looking into his eyes, you bite your lip, power surging through your veins. He survived a thousand years only to end up in your arms. His chest rumbles against yours, his hands finding your hips and hauling you into his lap. 

He takes your face in his hand again, a little rougher than before but you don’t care, “all mine. Always mine, do you hear me? I’m not just some short term fling. You’re mine until the end.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, your stomach a ball of white hot need. It’s final, there’s no allusions now, not that there ever was any. You love him. With every fibre of your being you love Kol Mikaelson.

You move your hands to his face, bringing his face down to yours, “Until the end, Kol.”

You smash your lips against his as soon as the words pass your lips, your fingers dragging through his hair. It’s like silk under your fingers and you can’t resist pulling at it. He moans into your mouth, the sexiest sound you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, and squeezes your hip with his hand, bolts of lightning zapping straight to your core. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard. He meets each nip with one of his own, running his tongue over your bottom lip. His mouth is like magic, spreading a warmth through each of your bones, one that melds with the inferno raging through your being.

“Darling,” he moans into your mouth again, his arms wrapping around your waist, “fuck, I need you.”

You tie your arms around his neck and cross your ankles around his hips, pressing yourself as close to him as you can get. You can feel the hard plains of his stomach against yours, the heat from his chest seeping against your blazing skin. You crash your lips against his harder, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling incoherent muses from your mouth. You can’t get enough of him, he’s like water. Like oxygen. Without him you would most certainly die. 

 “Then take me, Kol, I’m yours. Please.” 

His answer is a growl, one that sends more of the endless heat pooling in your core. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now. You can smell you. He must be fucking bathing in how much your want him. How much you need him. You run your fingers down his back, clawing at his shirt. He stands suddenly, jostling you against him deliciously. Before you can blink you’re in his bedroom, bouncing against his deep blue comforter. His room smells like him, like nutmeg and cloves, and it hits you hard, intoxicating you with everything Kol. 

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it quickly to the side before settling over you. You run your fingers up his back, admiring the way his muscles tense under your fingers before pulling him against you. You wrap your legs around his hips, rolling against him hungrily. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his heaving chest. His nose brushes your cheek and you sigh, his lips finding your ear. 

When he speaks his words whisper against your skin, sending toe curling shivers down your spine, “I love you. You hear me? I love you, darling. It’s you and me.”

You arch your chest against him, digging your fingers into his hair and pulling his lips to graze yours, “I love you, Kol Mikaelson. If you ever need to know who you are just remember this. No matter what else, you’re mine,” you press your mouth against his, using your tongue to punctuate the most important words you’ve ever said, “that’s all that matters. Mine.” 

“All fucking yours.”

#Kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson x reader #kol #mikaelson #tvd #to #the originals #the vampire diaries #fluff #angst #reader insert #y/n #imagine #tvd imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #to imagine

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Heya!! Kip here! The @memorabiliazine preorders have just shipped, which means we can share our pieces now! I wrote this piece back in February, after theorizing about the presence of Robbie's Telescope being present in the Royal Tech Lab in Age of Calamity. So without further a do, here be my little essay/fic on some old ruins, or more specifically, its:

Cause of Destruction

The storm had come too late. Thankfully, it was all devastated.

She continued to run from the screaming.

The Sheikah woman headed for the hills, brittle trees littering the eastern side of the Lindor mountain side. If she hurried, she could meet up with the others who had—

A distant crack of thunder melded with the collapse of stone; she makes the mistake of glancing back.

In the greater horizon, the shadow of Hyrule Castle looms over a conquered dusk. A shrill cry—something between a roar and a whine—escapes from the cloudy malice beast that enshrouds the Hylian monument. But that was just the backdrop, the canvas for contrast. Closer still, in the billowing grass of North Hyrule Plain, the stormy winds cut through fog and smoke like a dagger.

In the opened wound, the faint silhouette of a building glows.

Blue.

Blue.

Blue.

She keeps running.

The color might have at one point been appealing—the symbol of the Royals, the pleasant hue that cloaked a perfect morning. But tonight it just haunted her...chased her...reminded her of the terrible deed that was done.

A horse came over the hills.

“HEY!” a man shouted, mounted on a grey horse. “MA’AM! HALT, PLEASE!”

Crap. She sucked in a breath through her teeth, clutched her limp, burned arm, and kept moving. I just need to reach the trees.

But the chase seemed over before it had even started. When she had first started running from the blue, some wandering captain had stopped her to ask what was wrong. There was a strange kindness in his striking eyes, a forgein concept in this land now stricken with grief, death, and paranoia. In her haste—and possibly shame of what she had done—she had just pushed the captain away and fled. Very inconspicuous…good job me.

Now it seems he had found her again. Any other day she might have commended him for his kindness in checking with some random Sheikah, during the end of the world no less.

But tonight, well...there’s a sliver of her that might have preferred death.

The woman tripped on a divet in the earth, crashing down on one of her badly burned legs, and hissed at the pain. The rain had muddied the path, and was staining her once white clothes a disgusting marron. The pounding of hooves grew closer, until they halted right next to her ears.

A pair of leather boots crashed into the mud.

“Ma’am, don’t get up. You’re injured. Please.”

The clang of metal armour accompanies the voice. Oh he was a captain alright, equipped well for the apocalypse. His metalspear and armour adorned in—

She looks up.

Blue.

A slight frown.

The man tries to help her to her feet, watching to not clutch on the wounds on her right side. “Whatcha doing all the way out here? The nearest settlement is a ways away.” The captain lifts up one of her arms, and his eyes widen just a bit. “Dammit...those burns look bad. We might getcha some aid...there’s a laboratory place nearby that I’m heading by, just due east and—”

“...Lab?” The woman can’t help but wonder aloud. No...you idiot, you can’t be serious.

The captain smiles again. “See now, that’s why I was so eager to catch your attention. You’re running in the wrong direction.” He points in the direction she was running towards. “Up where you’re going is just mountains. There’s a fancy smancy lab a bit south that could help patch you up better than—”

“If you head to that lab, you’ll die.” She lets the words linger for a moment. “Unless, of course, that was the desired plan for the evening.” The woman laughs to herself, but the sound is empty and dry.

He frowns. “...What?”

She’s silent, gears turning in her head. Goddess...how do I say this without—

She points east, the rain pattering on her outstretched sleeve. “Tell me, Captain. What do you see over there?”

The man pauses, his face contort with confusion. He follows her hand and stares at the blue.

“...North Hyrule Plain. Some building glowing blue over there…I’m assuming that’s the techno-wizz from the L—”

“Lab, yes. That would be the Royal Ancient Lab. Though I’m afraid it’s not glowing from ‘techno-wizz’ or anything of that sort, dear captain.”

She crosses her arms, turning to look away from the blue and hugging her knees. “It’s currently burning to the ground.”

An ugly pause, as the man seems to take a moment to digest this. He flickers his gaze between the Sheikah and the distant blue building.

“I-It’s...It’s raining though—”

“Blue flame, I’m afraid, is a bit more resistant. Plus, it’s been burning long before the storm came through.”

“What...I…” The captain sits next to her, plopping into the mud in disbelief. “I was really thinking that...why would…”

He turns to her, his eyes are stormy grey, with faint specks of blue, like embers. The captain’s tone is gravely serious. “Miss, why was that lab destroyed?”

The question catches her off guard. Her jaw’s clenched, but she breaks their staring contest and hides her surprise with a shrug. “Same reason as every other disaster today. Calamity Ganon destroyed it.”

There’s a crack of thunder, and the ground shudders at her lie.

“...No.” the man mumbles.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to process—”

“No, I mean,” he stands, hand reaching for his back, “that’s not what actually happened, is it ma’am?”

Crap. The Sheikah holds her hands in the air. “If this is about me shoving you earlier, I was just a bit—”

“Aw now don’tcha worry about that, I took no personal offense.” He scratches the blond stubble on his chin.

“Now the thing that I do find some mighty fine offense to, is the fact that there’s a good lick of a chance that I’m currently speaking to an arsonist traitor.”

There’s a BOOM, and in the distance, another large piece of the Royal Lab collapses into the earth. The blue grows brighter.

“Me? What in the name of Hylia are you—”

“Let’s not play dumb, ma’am. Trust me, I’m a sucker for some pleasantries and small talk, though I’m afraid addressing the fact that you burned down the nearest safe haven for miles is gonna take priority here.”

The Sheikah woman just fumes, attempting to get up in the captain’s face. “How DARE you accuse me of—”

She’s cut off by the shing of metal cutting through air. The captain twirls the spear on his back and points the end right at her neck, resting just below her chin. She scowls, but puts her hands in the air.

“You just don’t understan—”

“That’s a mighty fine torch you got there…” He clicks his tongue.

Both hands grip his spear steady, ready to pierce flesh at any moment. The captain gestures with a wink to the torch attached to her waist. It seems to still smolder slightly with faint blue embers.

The captain looks between the torch, and the blue fire in the horizon.

“Yes, a mighty fine torch indeed.” He presses the spear tip a bit further forward.

“And it’s glowing a familiar color.”

Cause of Destruction

An Analysis of the Destruction of the Royal Ancient Lab

By Dr. J Kippers

(But please, Kippers was my father, call me Kip)

So heroes are a thing, huh? Who’da thunk it! One minute, I’m continuing my travels, studying some cool rocks and bricks in Hyrule Field. Then the next, a giant malice pig appears and fights some teenage boy wielding a glowing stick. I definitely wasn’t cowering behind the ruins of a garrison bathroom while that all happened, and I definitely was doing some cool badass fighting moves with my...pen, to help that knight and save the world and stuff. Makes for a pretty cool story, yeah? HA, Traysi would kill for it…

But enough of my daring, slightly exaggerated, exploits. It’s been a few weeks since the world’s settled down from the Calamity’s defeat, which means I had prime time to settle back into my hometown, and put my years of travel and research to paper!

I spent the majority of my life studying the history of Hyrule as it fell to the Calamity 100 years ago...and with the world now revitalizing, it’s just prime time to get myself out there! Research wise, that is!

At first, I didn’t really know what to write, cause WOW there’s just so many topics to choose from. Plus there’s a lot on the line here, gotta make a good impression for whatever new kingdom that Princess Zelda’s got planned. She seems the scholarly type, yeah? I’m thinking I could snag some Hyrule history teach’ position at a rebuilt university or something… Princess has got an awful lot of focus on the reconstruction of different village ruins. Which is fair, cause who better to know how to rebuild these places than the people who were alive to see them in their prime!

And you see, that’s where my journey of knowledge began! People with first hand knowledge of the events of distant past are alive? OH a historian’s dream…my soul swells in happiness. Plus, I also got my researcher brain a-tingling. My dad’s friend’s cousin’s neighbor’s grandma’s dog’s breeder knew Dr. Robbie back in the day, so Sheikah tech is basically in my blood.

With these passions rejuvenated I had my goal! Publish some revolutionary new theory that combined my awesome knowledge for history, archeology, and tech! And what better place to see that than, (duh) the Royal Ancient Lab Ruins.

Now, there doesn’t seem to be much in these ruins…it’s absolutely barren. No weapons or treasures to be seen. Just your run-of-the-mill ruined ruins, destroyed long ago by the Calamity. And that was the end of the story.

At least that’s what I thought until I did a little more digging. See, as I was doing some additional research, I stumbled upon this old history/research book stored in the Kakariko archive. I have no idea where it came from...it’s titled...C-Caa...Creation? Creating? Creating a...Cham...it’s kinda faded and hard to read. But anyhow, this weird little history book was written by some guy named “Nine-tendons.” If someone out there has a copy feel free to hit me up, but for today’s sake title and author don’t really matter. The point is, one of the quotes in that book describes the ruins like this:

Royal Ancient Lab Ruins

It is thought that these ruins represent the ancient relic research facility that was under the direct rule of Hyrule Castle, but only the outer walls remain. There is no trace of the building’s interior, let alone any research materials.

The thoroughness of its destruction feels intentional. [Page 396, Cr_ating a Champ___, Nint__do.]

Now I’m not too familiar with the work of whoever Mr. Nin-Ten-doves is, but I strangely trust their word on the topic wholeheartedly. Call it a feeling from the divine if you must, but they’re right! It seems so much more obvious in hindsight.

My adventures into the other various ruins across Hyrule always gave me something to work with. The world is just crafted for exploration. Old treasure chests, weird rocks with a tiny talking tree fairy underneath. Hell, even a monster or two was always happy to inhabit even the smallest of ruins I’ve entered. Yet, there is absolutely nothing of prominence to be seen at the ruins of the Royal Ancient Lab. And I’ve double, triple, and quintuple-checked!

Why are there no rusted weapons...or treasures...or any records or evidence of anything, other than some crude stone walls and a rock? That kind of destruction is just unnecessarily absolute, even for the Calamity.

According to detailed drawings/notes I have in my records of Historical Works during the Age of Calamity (HW AOC for short), the Royal Ancient Lab was nearly three stories tall, with a royal blue ceiling, complete with a basement level, and an upper telescope! With even the smallest of structures (like simple ranch and village ruins) still standing today with plenty of artifacts, why is as great a structure as the Royal Lab so desolate?

Intentional, intentional, intentional...that word ran through my head for days, weeks, months even. Why would the Royal Ancient Lab be destroyed intentionally? Did the Calamity see it as that major a threat? No, that wouldn’t make sense, the movements of Calamity Ganon that day clearly show his intention to use the Sheikah power against the people of Hyrule. An Ancient Lab would be a major benefit, if anything…

So, surprising as it may be, the current prime suspect for the destruction of this lab would actually be…

The Sheikah just glares. “Well...what gave it away?

He shrugged his shoulders with a half smile. “Deductive reasoning, with a hint of some good ol’ luck perhaps.”

“Listen, I know this looks bad, but you have to understand—”

“Oh I understand quite well alright.” The captain gives a wink. “I try to be humble, but Mama always did say I was the smartest cookie she knew.”

He rests the end of his spear on her collarbone, the threat clearly still present, but it gives him the freedom to pace and wipe rain for his soaked blonde hair.

“See I know that Calamity Ganon’s corrupted every bit of Sheikah tech from here to Lurelin. I know that he’s been targeting Hylian settlements. ‘Seen it myself when some monsters and Guardians destroyed my regiment and post at Maritta Exchange, just a bit north from here. I know that the only reason the other settlements, like the Rito and Zora, are still standing is because Ganon’s focusing all his forces on finding and killing the Hylian Champion and the princess. And finally I know that because of that, there is not a Guardian or monster around for many a mile. I mean, just lookie over there.”

The woman turns her head, and sure enough, the plains are barren of all life. No movement of machine or beast or person.

“And now my assumption was—and do pardon me if my monologue is redundant to your traitor ears—that the nearest place of safety would be this royal laboratory of technology. It’s Sheikah run, so it wouldn’t be immediately targeted. Plus the last thing the Calamity would want is for his personal army of destruction to be...well, destroyed. Ifs I was them evil cloud demon thing, I woulda wanted the lab with all my corrupted techno babble soldiers to be kept in peak condition. However…”

The captain turns to the right, staring at the blazing blue building in the distance. “...That does not seem to be the case.”

The Sheikah opens her mouth to speak, but he holds up the spear again. “Now I’m thinking, the only reason someone would go about destroying that lab, would perhaps be to kill some people, no?”

“We didn’t—”

“Getting rid of the people who could possibly reverse the Guardian corruption...now I suppose that might be a good evil plan.”

“It was for the be—”

“Ma’am I’m all about looking on the bright side of things, but,” the captain flicks his head in the direction of the blue, “This ain’t exactly the light a’ hope I was wanting.”

“Maybe not, but—”

“So,who are ya? Yiga?”

“No, it’s—”

“Solo treason then. You getting revenge on someone ‘round here? A noble? The King? Or perhaps you’re just the sadistic type with the whole—”

“NO!”

The outburst surprises the both of them, and he hold the spear to ner neck firmly. Another crack of thunder reminds them of the silence that’s endured. The Sheikah finally sighs.

“Perhaps by definition I am an arsonist and a traitor, but for one thing, I wasn’t alone.”

The man’s eyes shine curiously, but she continues.

“I will gladly die alongside them, as my actions have only been for the benefit of Hyrule.”

The rain’s tempo quickens as she gets on her feet, but the captain doesn’t strike. She stares him down, eyes hidden behind strands of white hair.

“My name is Atsuko, a devoted researcher at the Royal Lab, and you may kill me if you think it just.”

Ok, now I know what you’re all thinking. You’re thinking “Kip! Why are you writing this official research paper like some drunken bar rant? How the hell are you gonna get noticed at this rate?” or “Kip! The hell are you thinking?? Sheikah destroying the Ancient Lab makes absolutely no sense?!”

So to that I say, firstly, uhhh you’re welcome for not being a boring posh, snobby lecturer.(Learned to value a personality over fancy words; lessons my granddad).

As for the latter, you are quite wrong my dear friend, quite wrong indeed. It makes an absolute butt-load of sense, and I’m gonna prove it was them, here and now! I mean that’s...kinda the whole point of an essay, yeah?

My fellow archeology, history, and tech lovers, not only do I know who is responsible for the Royal Lab’s destruction, but I know the true reason why and how! Let us start at the beginning!

What exactly is the lab, and what was its purpose? Well, as the name implies, it was a Sheikah-run laboratory under the hand of the royal family that researched and experimented with Ancient technology. Again, looking at references in HW AOC, I can place not only Guardian models and Ancient weaponry at the lab, but also the existence of blue flame lamps that seemingly powered the facility.

As we all know, it’s tough to mess around with Ancient parts without blue flame, which is the prime energy source for the Ancient Sheikah. Such are the existence of today’s Hateno and Akkala tech labs, located near blue flame furnaces. However! This brings into question exactly why the Royal Lab was constructed where it was…

There are only three places in all of Hyrule with natural blue flame deposits, or otherwise called “Ancient Furnaces.” That would be in Hateno, Akkala, and within Hyrule Castle itself. So why is the Royal Tech Lab so far from these Ancient Furnaces?

To answer this question, might I direct your attention towards explosions. That’s right folks, I’m talking bombs! (Please take this moment to imagine me creating an accompanying explosive sound effect with my mouth)

Some time ago, as I was analyzing the blue flame lamps in Deep Akkala, I ran into that hero of legend face to face! Nice guy, quiet and charming type. Smelled strangely like apples and burnt guts.

Long story short, I traded my entire supply of Hot-Footed Frogs and arrows for a chance to mess with his Sheikah Slate for a bit.

So during that brief period of research, I discovered that while Sheikah tech is usually well controlled—with bomb runes only going off on command by the push of a button—there is an exception! Bomb runes instantly react with blue flame, just one touch and they’ll instantly explode! Try it out yourself! Er, well. Ok, maybe not. Don’t do that, legally I’m not responsible. Plus, it’s not like any of you folk out there have access to bomb runes or a Sheikah Slate that you can play around and test it out for yourself like it’s some virtual game that you can switch around in your hands.

Bomb runes are giant bundles of compact Sheikah tech. When in contact with a pure blue flame, they go boom. The process with the Sheikah Slate must simplify this process with a remote button, but as I’ve discovered, the process can be hastened by chucking a torch around.

I call this phenomenon of blue flame reacting destructively with Sheikah technology a “blue combustion!” I’m creative, I know.

I imagine, any experimentation with weapons that harness, compress, or just generally mess with Sheikah tech and lasers, must be conducted in an environment that prevents blue combustion. You don’t want pure blue flame touching stuff. Otherwise you go kaboom.

Now I couldn’t get a hold of Dr. Robbie or Director Purah myself, something about how they “don’t know who the heck” I am, and “you’re trespassing please get off it’s private property,” or something of the sort, I’m not really sure. But even without their testimonies, you’ll notice that their large tech labs are constructed a distance away from the actual Ancient Furnace. They aren’t right beside it. If they were, you risk losing a limb to a blue combustion. That is also why blue flame lamps exist: to stagger the distance between the flames. And thus is why the Royal Lab isn’t nearby an Ancient Furnace.

Yet even so, the distance the Royal Lab has from an Ancient Furnace might still stump you, because even compared to the Akkala and Hateno labs, it is very very far. But here’s the kicker, my dear curious readers and poor editor, the reason for this extreme distance is because during its prime, the Royal Ancient Lab housed a large portion of the Guardian army and weaponry. It needed more distance because its contents accumulated a much larger space. I can prove this not only by descriptions shown in HW AOC, but also by notes/drawings shown in the archive called the Backgrounds of Technological Wonders, or BOTW for short.

Both these sources show that while Guardians were tested and stationed in Hyrule Castle, the number of Guardians at the castle was probably only in the one hundred mark or less. Now that may seem like a lot, but remember, hundreds of Guardians were dug up, as especially shown in the famous Sheikah tapestry of 10,000 years ago. Arguably even thousands, considering that tapestry is a simplification.

So if we can only account for only a portion of the Guardian population at Hyrule Castle, where are the rest? Scattered across different garrisons perhaps, sure. But they’d mainly be in the facility where each of the Guardians were constructed and given power, the place full of the most talented Sheikah researchers, a location that would still be in decent proximity, but still a safe distance from the castle should an emergency arise: the Royal Ancient Tech Lab. That’s where most of Guardians are.

Now, why is this important? Why did I just spend a few paragraphs talking about blue flames and Guardians and locations when this is about the lab’s destruction and demise?

It’s because this is my sure fire way to prove to you that the Calamity did not destroy the Royal Lab.

The Royal Ancient Lab was constructed specifically to create the best Guardians and technology to beat the Calamity with.

It would have been constructed specifically to avoid any fatal blue combustion accidents.

And it sure as hell wouldn’t have been purposefully destroyed by the Calamity, the one entity who would benefit from its existence.

The lab was decimated by a blue combustion, no question. There isn’t anything as powerful as it that could destroy a place so completely. And now knowing the factors surrounding the lab itself, we know that if it was destroyed by a combustion, it was not because of an accident.

It could only have been done purposefully, by the only people who would know the Royal Lab’s weaknesses.

It could only have been brought down by the Sheikah researchers.

So now, the questions of exactly how and why remain.

The captain just stands and ponders.

“Ma’am, I must confess that I don’t find the science of the destruction nearly as interesting as exactly what made you decide to do it.”

“It’s like I said,” Atsuko clutches her burned arm, “It wasn’t just me. Really, now, you’re too kind to give me so much credit.”

The spear end moves closer to her neck. “Alright alright alright, sorry, pal. Look I have no idea if you’re even believing all this right now, but you have to trust me that our actions were of the best intentions.”

The captain smirks. “Do tell?”

According to BOTW, the Ancient Arrow was developed by Dr. Robbie as one of the most powerful means of combating the Calamity itself. In fact, according to research I’ve found in that CAC book by Mint-en-do, I can place the exact time for the development of this weapon, which I can use to glean information about it’s properties.

Ancient Arrow

Perhaps forty or fifty years after the day of the Great Calamity Robbie, the lead Guardian researcher, created the first weapon that was effective against the mechanical monsters: the ancient arrow... Flames come out from the burner like bit [of the Ancient Arrow] and form a blade. [Page 388 and 178, Cr_ating a Champ___, Nint__do.]

The arrow instantly vaporizes whatever it comes into contact with, tearing apart the subject by the molecule, and sending them to non-existence. The description of the weapon implies that it is the pure energy of a blue flame, and built quite differently than other Sheikah weapons.

And the difference definitely shows. I’ve handled a few of these puppies myself, and let me tell you, they get the job done. While an Ancient sword or axe will certainly do some damage, a single Ancient Arrow can take out a Guardian, or even a Lynel in one hit. I heard that they could even do major damage to Dark Beast Ganon itself!

Now, why do I bring this up? Because this Ancient Arrow proves that the Sheikah 100 years ago knew about the dangers of blue combustion.

An Ancient Arrow is clearly the result of intensive research into blue combustion, it is literally a pure blue flame on a stick pumped up with some Ancient Tech. It vaporizes whatever matter it touches and it ceases to exist.

Hmm...would be a fine explanation as to why the nearly three stories worth of stone and ceiling in the Royal Lab no longer can be found.

And why wasn’t the Ancient Arrow developed sooner? It’s because no one thought to purposefully cause an event that would destroy everything until they were forced to on the actual day of the Calamity. It’s because it took even the most brilliant of scientists half a century to even contain a feat of destruction into a single arrowtip? Yes...when you lay out the facts like that, it seems to make sense on the timeline.

Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Back to the question of “why?” Let me rewind to an earlier point. Where are the thousands of Guardians in Hyrule?

Yes, a good hundred or so could be found in Hyrule Castle, and the majority were in the Royal Ancient Lab. But today, where are they? Records in BOTW cite only 157 Guardian remains in all of Hyrule. 157. How? That’s impossible. Witnesses and notes in HW AOC prove that much, much more existed. And what’s more is that we know that the majority of those Guardians were at the Royal Lab, but there are no Guardians, active or otherwise, to be found there. There is nothing.

It’s almost as if all those Guardians were vaporized, they ceased to exist one day.

And you know what.

They did.

(Please take this time to imagine me winking)

There’s some theme or metaphor here about the Royal Ancient Lab, constructed in the blues of the Royal family, ironically being destroyed by the blue combustion—but what do I look like, a writer? Find your own secret to life, here’s the blunt of it.

The Sheikah knew about the dangers a blue combustion could do, but on the day of the Calamity, they used that knowledge for the better. Seeing the corrupted Guardians in the distant castle, it is my belief that the researchers there purposefully brought the blue flames—that they had so carefully separated outside in the lanterns—in contact with Ancient Technology. Things not only went kaboom, but the actual matter ceased to exist. A giant Ancient Arrow.

Thousands of Guardians, hundreds of blades and weapons, and honestly, probably even lives, were gone in an instant. The only remains of the carnage would be the aftermath of blue flames that spread across the remains of the outer walls.

The Sheikah did this because it would save the most lives. That’s hundreds and thousands of Guardians and machines that wouldn’t fall into Ganon’s clutches, hundreds of souls saved. Did you know that today Hyrule Ridge, the home of the Royal Lab, has zero Guardians? Did you know that the lands near it, Hebra and Tabantha, have the lowest Guardian sightings in all of Hyrule? Even less than the Gerudo Desert. And I cite this all based on my hours of research and facts laid out by BOTW, HW AOC, and the divine work by Mr. Nin-ten-do

But even beyond that, how do I know, in absolute 600% certainty that the Sheikah were in complete control of this destruction? How am I so sure that the Sheikah that day had fully planned the intentional obliviation of their lab?

It’s because...I lied earlier.

There is actually one relic that survived. One little monument of the Royal Ancient Lab Ruins. One object giving physical proof of this theory.

One artifact that would have been impossible to preserve if the Sheikah hadn’t planned it all. I mentioned it briefly before, if you paid attention. Yes! This object is present in both the Royal Lab, and a tech lab of today. You could see it for yourself, if you pay a visit to my dad’s friend’s cousin’s neighbor’s grandma’s dog’s breeder’s Sheikah researcher pal...

“Dr. Robbie’s telescope.” Atsuko pointed to the scattered trees in upper Lindor, “Some other scientists took it up there to preserve it. It’s the only reason we were able to see the initial Guardian corrupting in the distant castle, and how we were able to adapt to the situation and act so quickly.”

The captain glanced at the western mountain. “So you were running up there to meet with them?”

“The wilderness is pretty safe at the moment. And we’re hoping eventually we could take the telescope to another lab where we could possibly continue research. I mean just today from the combustion, Dr. Robbie had this idea for some fancy Sheikah dagger to kill Guardians.”

Silence.

“OK listen, that’s...that’s all I’ve got. You can head up there and confirm the story, or just kill me now, take your pick. Waiting for judgement here.”

More silence. The rain falls harder.

“...I’m—”

“You can call me Cian.” The captain does a little bow. “Captain Cian Kippers, at your leisure.”

Atsuko raises an eyebrow. “Like the color—?”

“Sp-Spelled differently! There’s an “i” in there, and perhaps it’s ironic to the situation, but I figured if we’re gonna be traveling up there together you should have the courtesy of knowing my name.”

She just sputters for a moment. “So...you—”

“I trust your heart—I like to think I’m good with character—and I believe you’re a good person doing your best in the world. As unfortunate as circumstances may have been.” He twirls his spear before fitting it on his back. Cian extends a hand to her which she takes. “People like that are getting rarer by the hour, so I don’t think I should be adding to the death count.”

“So…” she gets on her feet, cocking her head, “You...you believe me then?”

He chuckles. “Well, I didn’t kill you did I?”

Atsuko laughs quietly. “Your mistake…”

“...No.” Cian places a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiles, as if to say that somehow everything was gonna be alright.

“My intention.”

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