#helmet hair my beloved <3

[caroandcats]

Buddie + ao3 tags || 4x06

#911hiatus2023 #911edit #buddieedit #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 fox #911 abc #*mine #buddie ao3 series #helmet hair my beloved <3 #so much flirting and for what!!

[belovedvenom]

jason todd as a lover <3

sfw

a real lover boy. he's obsessed with you and everything about you, doesn't even try to hide it. everyone can see and feel how much love he has for you. physical touch is definitely one of his love languages —he always has to be touching you, whether it's a grip on your waist or a hand resting on your neck. why look for a chair when he has a perfectly good lap right there? he just wants to feel on you at all times.

rarely calls you by your first name unless he's upset. it's always beloved, baby, habib albi, rouhi, hayati, etc (i will be making a post about all the things he calls you in arabic)

quality time! yes jason loves books and you'd definitely have moments reading together but he also canonically likes punk rock and heavy metal. you two would absolutely have your own concerts in your room listening to joy division, the chameleons, killing joke, and black sabbath etc..

he will teach you arabic. he loves flirting with you in the language, watching with a smirk as you get flustered (and annoyed) cause he knows you don't understand.

(speaking of i do want to expand more on that and even do that "surprising my lover by speaking their language" trend)

c l i n g y. personal space is not in his vocabulary. he can't help that he's addicted to you.

he's one possessive mf!! (so are you) do i even need to say more? but let's not get it twisted. he's not the type to control what you wear or who you talk to or what you do —you're your own person. you can do whatever you want. he knows your his and he's yours so he's not all that worried. besides...... he can fight (and he's strapped)

spoils you to no end. will definitely just give you his card with a kiss on the cheek and tell you to treat yourself to whatever. staring at something a little too long at the store? liked an item on social media? he's already ordering it, he doesn't gaf. if you want something its yours.

late night drives on his motorcycle. you're upset? had a bad day? he's already strapping a helmet on your head, putting you on the back of his bike. “tanks all full, we can drive for as long as you want”

nsfw:

loves every position. he just wants to be with you but missionary and cowgirl are his top favorites. missionary —he loves to look your eyes as he whispers sweet and dirty words to you. watching every expression you make as he hits it deep. cowgirl —that's when its your turn. holding him close, tugging his hair, whispering whatever in his ear as you grind down, forehead touching his.

free use!! but him wanting you to use him whenever you want. sad? just want to be close to him? youre just in the mood? use him, he wants you to. whenever you're hesitant, he just reminds you that “baby im yours. whenever you want, alright. i got you. whenever or wherever you need me"

he is a certified munch. gets off just getting you off. loves when you tug his hair pulling him closer. doesn't even want anything in return, he just wants to taste you. he's a messy eater

praise kink praise kink!!! both ways. wants you tell him how good it feels, will also tell you how good you make him feel.

loves when you act bratty cause he knows you just want him to be rough and fuck the attitude out of you.

a moaner and a talker! will talk in arabic without realizing it sometimes. "take it so well baby" "look at me baby, that's it" "pussy feels so fucking good"

#jason todd x reader #jason todd prompt #red hood x reader #red hood smut #jason todd smut

[serevena]

Gf!Ellie on Halloween

a.n - Happy Halloween everyone!! Needed to post this because Halloween is my fav ever..hope your Halloween is good!! Enjoy <3 🎃

warnings - provocative language, fluff, Ellie being a dork and scared of everything, kissing.

; I

Ellie was never the type to celebrate holidays. Her peers would be lucky if she accepted a cake on her birthday.

But you changed that, persistent that Ellie get dressed up and went out with you for Halloween. You went all out and made her close her eyes, grabbing a costume you bought for her a few days prior and holding it in front her.

“You can open ‘em.”

“Holy shit!” Ellie muttered, her brows raising as her hands went to her knees, rubbing them over her jeans lightly. And you could slowly see her crack a smile on her chapped lips.

“Do you like it?” You asked, already knowing the answer. The helmet; which was admittedly the best part to the beloved astronaut costume was still in the closet, and you smiled at the thought of Ellie’s reaction to that. Ellie nodded and felt the fabric of the costume before kissing you, quickly pulling away to look at it again.

“It’s fuckin’ sick!”

; II

Throughout the month of October, you’d been practically forcing Ellie to partake in any Halloween events. Haunted houses, pumpkin carving, pumpkin patches, you name it, the two of you did it.

She most definitely did not agree to the haunted house at first, scared shitless but she’d never admit it.

And god, it was like hell on actual earth when the two of you arrived. Ellie let out something of a scream-groan when the two of you were waiting In line, a man sliding over to the two of you. You laughed, not only finding it cool but also at Ellie’s reaction. She covered her face and squeezed her sweaty palm onto yours.

And let’s not get started on when the two of you actually went inside. She insisted you go first so the scare wouldn’t be as bad for her, but she somehow ended up in the front halfway through. She jumped and practically squealed every time someone popped out, a gush of wind hit the two of you, or a light would make a weird noise.

By the time you and Ellie left the haunted house, she was out of breath, sweaty, and half dead.

“Never. Fucking. Again.”

; III

“That’s for like, five year olds.” Ellie muttered.

“Right, because parents trust a five year old with a sharp object.” You laughed, wielding a carving tool in your hand with two pumpkins on the counter in front of the both of you.

“You never know.”

“What’re you gonna make?” You questioned with almost a devilish grin, knowing Ellie did not wanna do this. “I don’t know yet..”

…

She turned her pumpkin around with a tiny smile on her face, and you glanced down at it, caught off guard. She made a portrait of Joel, and god was it good.

“You should make that into a profession..” you mumbled, glancing down at your pumpkin. It was a stick-figure Ellie that you knew she’d make of you for. Onto to the next one.

; IV

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” You asked, throwing a piece of popcorn into your mouth. Ellie shrugged from the corner of your eye and sat up. “I thought we were watching interstellar.”

“Ellie, we’ve seen that movie like 10 times..plus it’s Halloween, we should have like, a marathon or something.”

She immediately sat back, defeated. She let out a long sigh which caused you to smile and roll your eyes. “Drama queen.”

You could see Ellie’s mouth widen at your words as her brows furrowed, but she again, was defeated. So she stood silent.

Eventually, the two of you agreed on the movie ‘Saw X’, and you glanced over at Ellie who glanced over at you a few times.

Safe to say the night ended with Ellie in your arms, half asleep, drooling on you but also refused to sleep since she was convinced she’d have a nightmare about the movie.

“It wasn’t even that scary.” You said, caressing her auburn hair.

“You’re so full of shit.” Ellie said, smiling a bit once she heard you laugh in response.

#castasplla #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie x y/n

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Nancy Kwan (The World of Suzy Wong, Flower Drum Song, Tamahine)—Nancy Kwan is my faaaaave like you don't understand!! watching her dance in her beautiful chic boudoir in flower drum song—the GRACE of it, the STUNNING BEAUTY. she is everything i've ever wanted to be and more. theeee most beautiful woman of the 60s i don't care what anyone else says! my queen my icon my legend!!

Simone Signoret (Casque D'Or, Les Diaboliques, Room at the Top)—Oscar-winning Simone Signoret! One of her signature roles was Casque d'Or (Golden Helmet), a Belle Epoque prostitute famed for her gorgeous blonde hair... but also! The jawline! The gaze that Sees through you! The steel! <3

This is round 1 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Simone Signoret:

"Sensual, intellectual, irresistible"

Nancy Kwan:

"askgdshadlg women"

"2 Golden Globes. Was in 15 movies to 1970 and many more after."

"have you seen her? she’s beautiful and love her so much. she also did ballet before acting."

"She was one of the few Asian American starlets of her time, she is graceful beautiful and she had to work a lot at making it big under the circumstances (20th century Hollywood)"

"Ok, this is super niche, but movies for Asian American girls growing up in the 80s was limited. Nancy Kwan is really freaking gorgeous and, while her character in Flower Drum Song is problematic nowadays (i heard she cried when asked to do the lingerie scenes), having an Asian American woman on screen with her own prerogative+agency was formative."

#simone signoret #nancy kwan #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman

[koostarcandy]

hold on

summary: a night where jungkook just wants to give, give and give and he wants you to realize that you can take it all.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, tw! mentions of sickness, oc is sick and koo just wants to take care of her :((

a/n: because im terribly sick and i need a koo :] okty for reading byeeeee <3 inspired by new years day :)))

jungkook squeezes your hand when you wrap your arms around him. he glances at your zoned out state in the rear view mirror, your sunken eyes visible through the helmet's protective glass. you force your eyes into crescents when you lock gazes, wrapping your arms around him even more tighter. you gesture at the bright green light, prompting him to get home as quickly as possible.

he had mentioned your voice being croakier and your frequent intake of warm fluids. you blamed it on the change of weather, ignoring the fact you were working overtime again. he pointed out your headaches overstaying their welcome, noticing the painkillers from the medicine box disappearing quickly. for instance, this morning, you stifled coughs and said your incessant sneezing was because of the temperature of the aircon. you kissed him goodbye and promised to be back on time for samgyeopsal and soju night.

there was a faint inkling of your monthly tradition not happening but jungkook pushed it aside, putting it on his never-ending worry for your vulnerability to common colds and sore throats. he expected the phone call from you to remind him to stock up on apples and bananas, not you sniffling and asking him quietly if he could pick you up. legitimately dropping everything he had at the moment, firm yet gentle voice telling you to hold on.

"feeling feverish, darling? should i get out our winnie blanket?"

you smile at him referring to your favourite childhood blanket as his own too, lifting your head to look at his concerned face. you nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. jungkook gets the big blanket in minutes, tucking you in almost immediately. after his nimble fingers finish wrapping you up, you lean your forehead to his chest, tired eyes closing at the sudden lull of warmth.

"soup, my love? it'll soothe your throat and your cold," he asks after a while of quiet cuddling. you shake your head and clear your throat, "just give me the fever reducer and i'll just sleep it off, koo."

his gentle features turn stoic slowly, miffed at the fact you're pushing away your sickness like an irritating strand of hair. jungkook reluctantly pulls away from you, kissing your forehead and promising to be back in a few. you figure he's gone to get the pill like you asked, closing your eyes to give yourself a bit of shutdown for a while.

your beloved walks back to you fast asleep, finally. you're adorable in the way you're wrapped, your overworked body getting some rest after a long time. jungkook puts the soup he made in a flask, keeping the warm water and tablet aside. he slips under the covers with you, lips brushing against your heated forehead. cradling your head to his chest, he too follows you slowly into dreamland.

"koo, it's unnecessary, i really don't-"

"shush, you're beginning to sound like a frog and not the kermit way."

jungkook doesn't understand why you're practically pushing him away when he tries to take care of you. he eventually gets you to finish the soup and the toasted bread you requested for. carefully taking the tablet out of it's plastic packaging and pouring the right amount of water, he finds your back turned towards him, suddenly interested in your wallpaper.

knowing that gentle words won't get him anywhere, he shifts you so you're facing him and sitting up, fingers swiping lazily while playing subway surfers. jungkook pauses the game, practically shoving the warm glass tumbler into your hand. silently popping the tablet and chugging the warm water, you hand the glass back, waiting until his focus is back on you again.

"its getting late, you can go back home, you know that, right?"

"i'm still not leaving," he looks at you, "no matter how many times you try to subtly hint it."

"you don't have to do this," you hold his large hands for comfort.

"but i want to," he says resolutely, "i want to make sure you get better and see that you do nothing while being this sick."

jungkook leans his forehead on yours, eyes closing and letting out a sigh of relief when he feels the decreasing heat from you. he kisses your nose, pulling you into his lap.

"i know that you had to do all this on your own but that's not happening anymore, i won't let that happen."

he lifts your chin so you're looking at his galaxy-like eyes, "let me take care of you, please. you did the same and more when i was in your place and now it's my turn. hold onto me, sweetheart." he cups your cheek, his soft lips pressing kisses on your head, "i love you so much, angel."

you want to verbalize your thoughts, tell him that it means so much to you that he's willingly taking care of you. that it's heartwarming he'd rather stay at home with you instead of going out for abit of weekend fun. you're falling deeper for him and you trust him enough to catch you.

you hope and pray that he doesn't become someone you have to walk past in a busy street, heart hurting when he's far gone. you hope you're always there when he turns to you when he's at his happiest and that your arms are always open when the path he takes becomes too long. you find it extremely hard to tell this to him so you hope it permeates into him when you say,

"i love you and i'll always hold on for you."

pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #jungkook oneshot #bts x reader #bts fluff #new years day has got me in a chokehold now #thanks taylor </3

[zoeykallus]

hello!! how are you doing? <3

I was wondering for Some HC of reader wearing the bad batch’s armor and how they would react.

Aloha! 🤔😅 uhm, okay, let me try something!

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Whose armor is this, anyway?

Fluffy/Funny(I guess)/Slightly Suggestive in parts

____________________

What's going on: Your Batcher is taking a shower and has left the armor plates of his equipment in your room. Feeling a bit silly today, you decide to have some fun with it and try some on. You forget the time and get caught by your beloved clone when he comes back from the shower.

____________________

Hunter

You can't help yourself, as soon as the bathroom door closes behind Hunter, your fingers curiously roam over the equipment he has taken off, feeling scratches, dents and burn marks. This armor could probably tell quite a few stories. You try on the helmet, it doesn't fit right, it's a little too big, but not too much. You see the handle of his knife peeking out of the armor plate he normally wears on his arm and reach for it. The vibro knife is intriguing, looks sharp and dangerous. You've seen Hunter wield it a few times and admired it. You twirl the knife around a bit randomly, and for a moment you feel really cool, until you hear Hunter clear his throat. You drop the knife, shocked, and let out a small startled yelp. The knife sticks tip-first in the hardwood floor, definitely a sharp blade. You feel your face getting hot and are glad you have his helmet on, at the moment you are ashamed of yourself. Hunter smirks at you with a half-suppressed grin. He looks gorgeous as always, and you feel like an idiot with his helmet on your head and his knife stuck in the floor next to your feet. "Do you admire me so much that you're already imitating me?" he asks, amused, pulling a shirt over his gorgeous torso and tying his still-damp hair back with his bandana. He bends down for the knife and pulls it out of the wood, tucking it back into the armor plate he normally has on his arm. "You shouldn't mess with that, you might hurt yourself," he says with gentle rebuke when you don't answer him right away. "Sorry," you say meekly, "Couldn't resist. Can you take your shirt off again?" Hunter pauses, then laughs, "What, you want to put on my shirts now too?" You shrug and say perkily, "Maybe in the morning, but mostly I just want to see your upper body naked." His smirk turns salacious. "So you want me to stay the night for the first time?"

You suddenly feel terribly hot under the helmet, but you nod. He takes off his shirt again, as you asked him to, then he comes closer and puts his hands on your hips. "Aren't you going to take the helmet off again?" he asks with raised eyebrows. "No, not yet," you say hurriedly, "It's cozy in here." Hunter laughs softly and says, "Honey, I know your pulse is racing, and you're all hot, I don't need to see your face, there is no point in hiding".

Wrecker

The man is huge, and so is his equipment. The helmet is way too big, even the chest plate you throw over yourself looks ridiculously huge on you. You look at yourself in the mirror and grin under Wrecker's helmet, it looks incredibly funny.

You realize anew how stark the physical difference is between the two of you. You also try out the gloves, but soon put them away again, because they are so big that they constantly slip.

You pose in front of the large mirror that hangs on the bedroom closet and giggle quietly to yourself.

Suddenly, you hear rumbling laughter and turn around, startled. Wrecker is standing in the doorway in his shirt and boxers, a towel at the back of his neck. For a moment your gaze hangs admiringly on his leg muscles, especially his thighs, and a soft, "Damn," passes your lips.

"What are you up to?" he asks, amused.

You laugh a little awkwardly and say, "Gettin' ready for battle."

Smiling, he says, "Then maybe you should find some armor that fits you first."

You reach for one of the many pillows on your bed and say, "It should do for this one," and throw the pillow at him.

You hit Wrecker right in the chest, who holds the pillow in confusion for the first moment. But then he realizes.

"Pillow fight!" he exclaims happily, lunging and throwing it.

He underestimates his strength and knocks you off your feet with his hit. You tumble backwards, and if it weren't for the helmet, your head would have collided directly with the dresser.

Wrecker raises his hands in fright.

"Maker!" he exclaims, "Sweetie, are you okay? I didn't mean to do that!"

He rushes to your side and pulls you back to your feet with ease.

"Wow!", you exclaim laughing, "Even with a pillow you can knock one out".

"Are you hurt?" he asks meekly.

You shake your head laughing.

"No, Wrecker, I'm fine! Your helmet protected me, like I said, ready for battle".

He carefully takes off your helmet and still checks your head for wounds. Patiently, you let him check. Finally, he kisses your cheek and mumbles an apology again. His huge hands hold your face for a moment. He still looks worried, but when you smile at him, he can't help but return the smile.

Echo

Normally, Echo showers in the barracks before coming to you. However, he came back from training quite late today and doesn't want to lose any time. So he comes straight to your house and quickly slips into your bathroom to shower off while you open a bottle of wine for you.

Your eyes fall on the bedspread on your bed, where Echo has neatly laid down his gear. Curious, you move closer. At first, only your gaze wanders over the pieces of armor, then your fingertips.

Biting your lower lip thoughtfully, you finally take the pieces in your hands one by one and look at them more closely. It's surprisingly clean and well cared for, but there are a few marks and scratches that Echo can't hide in his armor maintenance.

You wonder how many times the helmet might have saved his life, turning it over in your hands. Your eyes fall on the bathroom door, you move closer and listen with your ear to the door. The water of the shower is still running.

His helmet doesn't fit you because of the cutout. But you spot the gun belt and his Kama. Clad only in an extra-long shirt, in your underwear, you slip both on. The radio is on in the background, and you dance around your bedroom with it, swinging your hips to move the Kama like a skirt.

Then during one of your turns, you almost fall over in shock. Echo stands there, leaning casually in the doorway, arms folded in front of his chest, a smirk on his face.

When you stop and stare at him with a heated face, he says, "Looks good on you, looks cute, but the outfit is not suitable for combat, at least not in this half-naked combination. But it's definitely an eye-catcher."

"Sorry," you stammer and hastily try to take the belt off again, but it's stuck.

Echo chuckles softly and comes over to you, helping you take the belt off again, placing it on your dresser next to him. His hand gently grips your chin, his lips resting warmly, softly on yours. He gives you a languid, tender, long kiss that makes your knees go weak.

When he pulls away from the kiss, his hand is still on your chin, and he asks, "So, beautiful, what's the plan for tonight, besides dancing in my Kama?"

With heated cheeks you smile at him, you have quite a few ideas.

Crosshair

He always takes ages in the bathroom, you don't even know exactly why, you've never asked him. Crosshair has been in the shower for quite a while when your eyes fall on his equipment lying neatly on your bedroom chair next to your bed.

Cautiously, you glance toward the bathroom door. You're not sure how he'll react when you go to his equipment. Curious, you pick up the helmet and put it on. It fits surprisingly well, is almost a little tight. You browse through the other pieces of gear and aren't exactly surprised at how neat they all are. Crosshair is a pretty neat person.

Then your eyes fall on his rifle, the Firepunsher, leaning upright against your bedroom closet. Again your eyes fall on the bathroom door. You hesitate, but finally you approach the gun and carefully run your fingers over it.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You jump up hastily, letting out a small startled yelp. It felt like a second ago the bathroom door was closed, but now it's open and Crosshair is standing in the doorway, one of your towels wrapped around his hips, bare-chested.

"I was curious," you say, still a little breathless with shock.

It's not until he comes over to you, grabs your head with both hands, and pulls off the helmet that you realize you still have it on.

Crosshair puts the helmet back with the other things and says sternly, "This is not a toy. My armor is one thing, but my rifle is not for untrained people."

"I know, sorry. I just wanted to look at it"

"Looking is something you do with your eyes, not your fingers" he growls.

"Sorry, please don't be mad"

"You could have gotten hurt" he says with a sigh.

"I know," you say meekly.

No matter how scared or ashamed you just were, his appearance distracts you, practically naked, clad only in a towel at his hips.

Crosshair smirks as he notices your covetous gaze.

"Now," he says in his smoky voice, "Why don't you slip out of your clothes, hop up on the bed, and we'll talk about it."

Heat rises in your cheeks, you don't even think about it but start undressing right away.

Tech

His things are spread across your bedroom. As always, he has a thousand things to say when he comes in and while he walks through your bedroom and takes off his equipment to get ready for the shower, he leaves the individual parts lying where he just walks and stands, lost in thought.

You watch him with amusement, trying to follow his rambling as best you can, picking up the pieces of equipment and placing them all neatly on your dresser. When he finally disappears into the bathroom, your eyes fall on his equipment again.

You take his helmet, pull it on and flip down the visor. The integrated computer comes to life and a bunch of numbers and options pop up in your field of vision.

"Wow, so that's what it looks like"

Next, you put on the gun belt and the tool belt. Both are surprisingly heavy.

"How can he walk around with that all day, no wonder he has such a slouch" you mutter to yourself and look at yourself in the mirror.

You admire yourself for a while, turning back and forth.

"May I ask what you're doing?"

Tech's voice makes you spin around, startled.

"Um, well, you left your gear criss-crossed, and I was cleaning up," you say evasively.

He stands there in boxer shorts and shirt, rubbing his hair dry, and asks with an amused undertone as he takes the towel down, "And you had to put parts on to do that?"

You flip up your visor and roll your eyes.

"Okay, I was curious, I wanted to see what it felt like".

A barely noticeable smirk is on his lips.

"So, how does it feel to you?"

"Unexpectedly heavy," you admit.

Tech nods and says, "I guess that's true, I'm lugging around a lot of tools."

He puts the towel in the bathroom bucket and comes back into the bedroom, he gently takes the helmet off your head and pulls the straps off.

"As cute as this may look, my equipment is not a toy, honey".

"Hmm, okay," you say meekly, watching as he puts the gear back on the dresser with the others.

He's got the thought, the words down, you haven't been intimate with each other yet, other than a few chaste kisses and careful cuddles. But you've been together for a while, actually very familiar by now, and he wants more too, but he's having a hard time coming out of his shell. When he looks at you again, a soft blush creeps into his cheeks as he asks, "Should I get fully dressed, or maybe we'll spend the evening… cuddling?"

You smile softly and say tenderly, "Cuddling sounds great, Tech."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@starwarsnerd111

#hunter #wrecker #echo #crosshair #tech #tbb #crosshair tbb #echo tbb #hunter tbb #star wars tbb #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tbb wrecker #tbb x reader #wrecker tbb #bad batch #the bad batch #clone force 99 #tech tbb #star wars #hunter x reader #bad batch tech #fluff #suggestive

[golatcxr]

Eternity within sandstorms [Cyno x Reader]

You would often find Cyno returning home all exhausted and sandy, most likely after his missions. He was a persistant man when it comes to bringing judgement under his own name, yet there was something he desired more than justice.

Genre: Fluff, comforts, oneshot

TW: 3.1 archon quest (Dreams, Emptiness, Deception) spoiler, pet names (love, darling), short & unedited

<3

Dawn came by, with your eyes gazing over the peeking sunlight from your window. Although your hearing was nowhere near as good as your botanic fox fellow, you could already hear Cyno's footsteps getting closer to the door - it was something that was way too familiar to you. You hurried to open it and pulled Cyno inside, placing a kiss on his cheek whilst dusting away the excess sand on his helmet and attitre. It had been days since he last set off.

"I suppose you went through a sandstorm again today?" You asked.

"I did, it was not that serious though." at that, he also brought his hand up to dust his arm, worrying that the sand might get all over the place.

He usually came back home with not much energy left, as a matter of fact, the long walks had drained out his stamina throughout the previous day. You both were used to this, and unexpectedly, he told you of his cooperation with Scribe Haitham and the Traveler. It was their actions to investigate and going against the resurrection of the Scarlet King. Though you had no belief in any God, the whole thing sounded obnoxious to you. A scarab fell down from his polearm in the corner, indicating that he had unravelled some business intensely, again. You may not have seen it, but you could feel that Cyno was not feeling well.

Who knew what he had gone through actually?

You silently took off his helmet, running your fingers through his slightly damped silky hair. Cyno immediately melted to the touch. The desert had been harsh on him for years, as well as fate, the Matra, the Akademiya and many more corrupted truth about the world around him. No matter how tough he put himself up to be, those things were no small damage to his sanity.

Your hand traced along his small scars that scattered on his arm, leaning in silently to kiss his forehead.

“You have done a lot already, love.” You whispered.

His scarlet orbs looked straight into yours as if you were communicating, just without words. Normally, his gaze alone was enough to catch the eyes of a whole crowd, dominating the atmosphere around him but for you, it was a passionate one. A loving look that you lived for and that was the same for him.

He vowed to endorse the regulations of life, all in all to protect one smile that determined everything for him.

You.

Your love was a silent agreement but your actions screamed more than just a mere promise between two. Cyno loved that about you, no, more like anything that belong to you.

“Darling, this is nothing compared to what I aspire, I’ll come back, no matter what.” He spoke with a hoarse voice. “I still have a life to live with you after all.”

The sun shone brightly through your window, adorning his face before your eyes as he pulled you into his embrace.

“Well, you must be hungry by now, I’ve prepared you biryani.” you giggled, yet not letting go.

The desert was a cruel ground for any living being, however, the endearment you both shared bloomed, more lively than any other thing that could withstand the burning sand.

.

.

.

------------------------------

Author's note: Thank you my beloved bf for inspiring me to write this brainrot hehe ❤️✨ I wrote this in a momentary outburst so it wasn't very long (~550 words) :'))

#genshin cyno #cyno #cyno x reader #cyno x you #cyno x y/n #fluff #fanfiction #genshin x reader #comfort

[written-in-flowers]

Disillusionment: Hongjoong x Reader

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 16k

AU: futuristic!au, rebellion!au, lovers to enemies, enemies to lovers again.

Genre: Angst (lots of it), tiny microscopic bits of Fluff

Summary: During her career as a Lieutenant of The People's Republic, Hwang YN has witnessed things she'd rather forget and learned things about those she served. On the day of her ex-boyfriend's execution, she must decide if she really is fighting for the right side.

Warnings: disabled!reader (she is missing her left ear and eye, and has a bionic leg), PTSD, graphic depictions of violence, guns, war, descriptions of poverty, mentions of child trafficking, general injustice, corrupt people being corrupt, assassination attempt, and conspiracy.

A/N: This is my EXTREMELY LATE entry into the Outlaw: The Project collab I did with @ssaboala and several other lovely people. My entry is for our beloved leader, Kim Hongjoong. I hope you guys really enjoy this <3

***

You sat in the meadow alone. A sea of grass dotted with purple flowers should be a sight of wonder and awe, yet you found it hard to enjoy. A sight juxtaposed to the bustling, noisy city a few miles beyond, you used to find tranquility and quietness in the meadow. It’d once been a place of safety and gentleness; you could gather your thoughts here, basking in the sun and silence. But, not anymore. Silence only pushes forward things you’d rather forget. Yet, you could not think of anywhere to be but here right now. 

They’re executing him today. In a few hours, Kim Hongjoong will be led onto the scaffold in the city center, have a noose put around his neck, and a door will open from under him. You squeezed your eyes shut at the image in your head. Hongjoong, with his determined, defiant eyes glaring at the painted faces of the city people, standing proudly on the scaffold. He won’t cry. He won’t give President Yoon the satisfaction. It’d been the same back in The Academy. Whenever an instructor or commanding officer gave him a near impossible task, hoping to break him, he never let them see the strain. It was why they liked him so much; why they spoke so highly of the soldier who never backed down, who did not accept failure as a result. Hongjoong had once been Prestige Academy’s brightest star, with a shining military future ahead of him. But, one terrible act changed all of that. 

‘No, YN. I’m not going back.’

‘Hongjoong…’

‘This ‘Republic’ has gone too far. Look around you, YN. These people have done nothing to us. They’re innocent.’

‘They are aiding the rebel forces. They’re not innocent.’

‘Yes, they are! They’re hospital patients. They’re human beings. YN, I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. It’s not right.’ 

‘Hongjoong, no! Please, come back! Come back!’

You fought back the visions in your head. The thick lump in your throat slowly built up remembering that night. You remembered how the heat of the flames mingled with the crisp winter chill; the smell of burning wood and bodies still clung to your nose all these years later. No amount of lifeless corpses, exploding bombs, or screaming women could drown out the one image stuck in your head. He’d removed his helmet, so you saw his cobalt blue hair, his light skin and his eyes. His beautiful brown puppy eyes that melted your heart every time you saw them. They’d looked at you with disgust and shock. They’d torn away from yours with pain and that same determination. The last haunting image was his white uniform gradually fading into the dark night; you recall running after it before being attacked by a rebel fighter. By the time you’d put a bullet in him, Hongjoong was gone. He’d abandoned you in the midst of a raid; he’d turned his back on everything he knew and joined the rebel forces beyond the barriers. He soon enough became their leader, leading a squad dubbed ‘The Pirates’. They gained the name because of their hovercraft bombings on Republic outposts, where they’d then touch down and scavenge whatever they could from wreckage. 

He became the ‘Pirate King’, and with one single act imprinted himself in Republic history. 

The ping from your wrist broke you from the cruel memory, and you looked at the small watch face to see an incoming call. When pressing the answer button, you prepared yourself for actual conversation today. 

“Yes?”

“Lieutenant,'' said Captain Shin, “The execution will be happening in approximately six hours. Preparations for the Victory Parade are starting, and we need you to come down here.”

“What for?”

“You’re in one of the last floats, sir.” 

You exhaled deeply. The “Victory” Parade is being called ‘the beginning of the end’ by news outlets. It’ll not only make a spectacle of Hongjoong’s execution, but give the people false hope. What you hated most is that you and what’s left of your team will be “stars” of the show. You preferred to forget your “greatest triumph” and move on with your life, but it seems you won’t get that. 

Your mission to capture and subdue Captain Kim Hongjoong cost you lives. Task Force 66 had eight members. After storming the “Valiant'', Hongjoong’s base of operations, only four of you remained. Sitting in the grass, you thought of the admirable, courageous people you’d become so close to be snuffed out in President Yoon’s war against the rebels. Jax, a springy girl who loved explosives and fire power; Jisung, a sharpshooter eager to prove himself; Miyoung, an older woman whose age didn’t stop her from taking down foes twice her size, and brilliant Ryu, a guy you swore had a computer for a brain. They’d died helping you capture Hongjoong. They’d given their lives in service to The Republic. 

A Republic that did not care about them. 

“Right. Be there soon, Captain,” you replied somberly. “Over and out,” you said. 

“Over and out,” said Shin, and you both hung up. 

Gingerly, you unfolded yourself from your sitting position and stood up. You gave a small stretch as you gave the meadow one more look. You should put the whole place to the torch. Briefly, you thought of scorching this sacred place to remove all the beauty and memories it held. Memories of you and Hongjoong frolicking in the grass as children; playing and laughing until the sun went down. Memories of days spent under the trees that outlined the meadow, reading or listening to music. Everything reminded you of him. It was as if its taken pieces of him for itself. Every single blade of grass and blossom reminded you of the boy who made you feel happy when you felt like dying. You wanted to burn it all away. If the meadow didn’t exist, then neither would your memories. 

You turned away from the meadow and headed back into the small forest at the edge. Moving through thickets of bushes and trees, you let the fresh air and damp earth fill your lungs. You pushed out that night from your mind. Which night? You don’t even know anymore. The night you both met. The night he left you. The night you both met again. All the nights sharing kisses in each other’s arms, whispering words of love and promises of forever. You flushed them from your mind as you found your car waiting on the side of the road. One of the government hovercrafts painted in black with The Republic eagle and olive branches on the hood, you knew you’d be back in the city in less than an hour. The faster you could leave the meadow, the faster you’d leave those memories behind. 

Soaring high above the main road, you saw yourself in your windshield reflection. Where you once had a full, unblemished face, you now had a cybernetic eye and ear piece attached. The steel implant started at the crown of your skull and remained fitted to the left side of your face. Pieces of shrapnel and ear splitting blasts caused you to lose sight and hearing; the doctors said you were lucky. The shrapnel from the bomb could’ve lodged into your skull and you’d be dead. Instead, you suffered a ruptured eardrum and your entire left eye. Scarring from the fire stretched like rivers on a map from your eye socket and across your forehead, cheek and jawline. Not the prettiest face, but the new eye came with lots of perks. Infrared vision, night vision, and scope abilities gave you more advantages than the average soldier; you heard pins drop from several feet away with your new eardrum. If one pulled off your denim jeans, they’d find the bionic right leg. One of the few times you ran into Hongjoong after his defection left you with a grievous leg injury that not even the Republic’s medical technology could heal. 

‘Yield. Yield now and tell your men to retreat, and I’ll spare you.’

‘I’d rather die!’

‘You can’t win this, YN. We have the upperhand. We have the trains and the sectors. Please, my love, yield and surrender. Please, I beg you.’ 

‘If you have the upperhand, Pirate King…then I’ll chop it off!’

And so you did. On a field of damaged earth and bloody corpses, you’d pulled out a hatchet from a dead soldier’s head and swung it at Hongjoong. He tried blocking it with a knife, but instead your blade went deep into his wrist. It didn’t completely sever the hand; you remember his screams of pain and wish you could take them all back. You sometimes thought of what it might’ve been like if you had surrendered. Would he have accepted you back? Would you two have grown to love one another again? You don’t know. You hoped he would. He promised forever, hadn’t he? 

You snorted as you reached the city gates. Ahead of you, you saw the long line of citizen vehicles below slowly making their way in and out of the silver city beyond the tall gates. In your government issued hover car, you flew to the tops of the walls where official vehicles came and went. Flying between the two sky-high towers, you lowered your window. A guard in black and white stood in the toll booth window, holding out a gloved hand. You handed him an identification card, which he scanned on his computer. 

“Welcome back, Lieutenant,” the man said in a gruff voice, giving a stiff bow. 

“Thank you, soldier.” 

You’d cried that night. Everyone thought it was the morphine high the doctors kept you on, but it wasn’t. Not entirely. You hadn’t meant to hurt him so brutally, but your own pain overwhelmed you. He’d told you that he’d be at your side forever. You were supposed to move through the ranks together, go into military training together, and maybe settle down to have a family. You’re meant to grow old side by side. He’d said as much the first time you kissed him, sixteen and the world at your fingertips. You couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else; you never loved anyone the way you loved Hongjoong. It was supposed to be forever. 

Then, the night the Republic bombed that hospital changed everything. You regretted that particular incident; you’d been a soldier of the Republic, who followed orders regardless of the severity. The people of Sector 5 were housing and aiding groups of people charged with crimes against The Republic. You and Hongjoong were part of Squad 245, a group assigned to put down any signs of dissent in the different sectors. Like every attack, you started with a blanket of bombs that created craters in the ground, blowing up people and crumbling buildings. When the initial attack ended, you touched ground to take down the rebels hiding out there. Hongjoong saw the hospital before you did. He’d seen the fires blazing within, the stone walls collapsing to the side, and people stumbling and crawling from the ruins. Most of those in the hospital were innocent women, men, and children who’d happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. You aren’t proud of the harm done that day. 45 people died in that bombing, and more became permanently injured. Everyone around you said they deserved it; they helped rebels escape “Republic justice”. What even is the Republic’s justice? Killing innocent people with nothing to lose? Oppressing those they have deemed beneath him? People they claim need them, when really it is the other way around.

The you back then would hate the person you’ve become now. She’d call you a traitor for thinking such thoughts. But, that little girl in her white Republic uniform doesn’t know about the things she’d end up witnessing. She won’t know about the time she witnessed Republic soldiers kidnapping sector children to sell on the black market to city elites. She hadn’t witnessed the terror and fear those children showed when she stepped into a Republic truck; some of them as young as eleven-years-old. That stupid, blind fool would damn you for shooting each of those soldiers in the head, and releasing those children into the forests beyond. She’d try finding excuses; she’d try to rationalize and justify such horrors because to accept that her precious government is evil destroys everything about herself. 

She’d have to admit that Hongjoong was right, and that she should’ve followed him into the cold night. 

You flew on the sky lane, and saw the tall triangular building of the military headquarters, nicknamed ‘The Pyramid’, in the distance. You also spotted the long lines of traffic backed bumper-to-bumper. Preparations for the parade meant to precede Hongjoong’s appearance were already underway, with workers setting up streamers, lamp posts decorations, flags, and barricades up and down the street. An irritable sigh escapes your lips when you realize you’ll be in traffic forever. You had places to be. Swerving out of the line and merging into a lower lane, you parked your car in an empty spot by the sidewalk. You’d come back for it later. 

The Republic City used to be a place called ‘Seoul’, until the new regime took over decades ago. Towering buildings going high into the sky were decorated with neon lights and advertisements. People crowded the trash-riddled streets, and made it through the general smog created by the hover cars flying high between the buildings. You can’t imagine your city being anything other than what it is now. The people in the sectors beyond the wall think Republic City is a mecca of opulence and beauty; where food is plentiful and everyone is rich. It could not be farther from the truth. Ever since the war began nine years ago, the luxury of Republic City plummeted. Walking through the concrete sidewalk, hands in your jacket pockets, you saw a young man slouched against a brick wall. Seeing his ragged clothing, full shopping cart, and paper cup sitting at his feet, you wished you could show the rebels that they’re not the only ones suffering. 

You saw a street food boat sailing a foot above the street. A portly man sat at the side, turning meat skewers over on a blazing fire. Quickly, you caught up to it. 

“Hey,” you greeted him, “Can I get two of those?” 

The man’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “Hey, you’re that Lieutenant from the TV.”

“Um, yeah, I guess.”

“Wow, you’re a real hero, ma’am,” he said. “I heard about those kids you saved. I can’t believe our government was letting soldiers sell little kids like that. I was really shocked, but they were lucky you came along.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“It was to them and their parents. Here,” he picked up two fresh meat skewers, and put them on a paper plate. “Free of charge.”

“Sir, I couldn’t do that to you-”

“-I insist,” he said, pushing the plate closer to you on the counter. “You've done more for us than our own president. Don't worry about it. Besides, it’s Victory Day.”

‘Victory Day’, is what they called it. What victory? You stuck a bill into the tip jar on the counter, bought a drink, and thanked him. You walked up to the young man by the wall, and handed him the two skewers. 

“Here,” you said. 

His eyes widened at the sight of the two long meat and vegetable sticks. “Wha-Really?”

“Yeah,” you told him, “I’m not really hungry.” You gave him the food, and watched him greedily begin eating them. You noticed what he wore: threadbare clothes that might’ve been flashy and fancy at one point, and leather shoes that were worn out and fading. “What happened?”

He paused, reluctant to answer as he wiped grease from his mouth. “I used to work in the steel industry,” he said finally. “I ran the distribution before those bastard outlaws ruined supply lines and Sector 2 joined the rebellion. I…I lost everything. I can wait for this fucking war to be over,” he washed down the food with the orange drink, then said, “Maybe things will get better, right?”

“Yeah…maybe.” You fished in your pocket for a few bills, and stuck them in his cup. “For some shoes,” you said, “Winter’s gonna be coming soon.”

“Thank you,” he beamed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

“Hey, you’re Hwang YN!” a high-pitched voice said behind you. 

You turned to see three young boys standing on the other side of the sidewalk. Each of them wore the soldier play sets the toy stores sold: black “bulletproof” vests with black gloves and helmets. The one who spoke smiled excitedly at you, holding a toy machine rifle across his back. 

“You’re the one who captured the Pirate King!” he said, pushing black strands from his eyes. 

“I am.” 

“That’s so cool!” his friend, red-haired and freckled, said with a smile. “I saw the little movies they played in the theater before the real movie started. They showed you going into that big ship with your gun like this!” he pulled up his own toy gun and made shooting sounds as he waved it around, “And the rebels running away!”

“You really showed them!” the third boy, blond and blue-eyed, said. “They were really scared of you!”

“I guess they were,” you shrugged. “You kids going to the parade?”

“Heck yeah!” said the first boy. “We’re going to watch the soldiers’ march and see the tanks! I want to be a soldier like you one day!”

“Me too!”

“And me!”

You couldn’t help remembering a young Hongjoong saying the same. When you’d both see the soldiers marching on Founder’s Day, he’d excitedly tell you how he’d be one of them someday. You both would be. 

“You’ll make great soldiers,” you said, trying to keep the sadness from your voice. “Once you’re trained up at the academy.”

This made all three boys jump excitedly. You high-fived each of them as they ran along the street, pretending to shoot invisible foes down the sidewalk. Moving further down, you watched the city continue to thrive around you. You made a turn down a familiar road towards The Pyramid, trying not to recall walks to headquarters with Hongjoong. You’d both wave down one of the floating street vendors to grab snacks before going to work. Hongjoong always bought the barbeque skewers, which you’d both eat as you walked. You stopped at a crosswalk when a delivery boy waited for the green light. On the side of his trunk, you saw the local news lines running through a screen. 

‘Pirate King Captured! War’s Ending in Sight!’ 

You remembered that today is meant to be a celebration. People filled the streets below, dressed in their best and preparing for the parties they’ll be having tonight. President Yoon planned to make Hongjoong’s execution a spectacle; it’s meant to symbolize the beginning of the ending. Members of your team still searched for Hongjoong’s crew, who’ve gone underground since his capture. They will be found soon enough, and they’ll also be executed. Once the Pirates are defeated, the rest of the rebellion forces will kneel. Then the Republic could begin to thrive again. 

A ringing sound from your ear piece interrupted your thoughts once more. Answering the call, you spoke first:

“YN here.”

“Lieutenant,” it was Shin again, “Are you on the way?”

“Yeah. My ETA is ten minutes. Why?” you passed the delivery boy, feeling his eyes on you but tried not to think about it. 

“Because, well…I wanted you to know that the Containment Center contacted me a few minutes ago.”

You froze. “And?”

“It appears The Pirate King has requested to speak with you.”

Every nerve in your body froze. Suddenly, your chest tightened and you stuffed a hand in your pocket. You looked at yourself in the reflection once more, seeing the damage on your face, and asked, “Why?”

“He didn’t give a reason,” he said. “All people headed to the noose are allowed a last request, and his request is to speak with you.” Shin paused, then continued, “It wouldn’t hurt to hear him out. He might even beg you for his life like the coward he is.”

“He’s not a coward,” you heard yourself snap at him. “He might be a pathetic rebel scumbag, but he is also a great soldier.”

“Forgive me, sir, but I…” you heard his hesitation, and suddenly the formal voice broke, “He killed Jax. He shot her in the back like a coward. He wouldn’t even give her the respect of killing her face to face.”

Jax. Your heart weighed heavier thinking of the wiry, stringy girl with neon green hair who loved explosives. She joined your team when you needed a demolitions expert, and she came highly recommended. Always smiling and laughing, you’d grown to enjoy her company and Shin had taken to her immediately. They’d been an odd but cute couple, with tiny Jax pushing the tall stern Shin from his comfort zone. Then the Pirates captured a group of Republic troops, and Jax happened to be among them. You’d done everything you could to get her back, but by the time you raided the rebel hideout, Jax and the other soldiers were dead. Shot in the back of the head like livestock. You couldn’t prove Hongjoong did it, but he’d given the order. His men do nothing without his say-so. Much like your own. 

Sometimes you forgot not everyone loved Hongjoong like you. 

“I understand, Shin,” you replied. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I loved Jax too, but she didn’t die in vain. Because of her explosive lines we uncovered the rebel hideout and discovered their plans to break into The Pyramid through the underground tunnels. She…She was a good soul.” 

“She was, sir.” You heard him pause again, then he said, “I take it that you’ll oblige his request?”

You shouldn’t. You should decline it and leave Hongjoong to die without ever seeing your face. After everything that has happened between you both, you shouldn't give him the satisfaction. He left you, so why shouldn't you leave him? You knew if you met him, you'd only end up crying and you cannot be seen leaving his containment cell in tears. 

“Yeah," you finally said, “I’ll see him.” 

You didn’t know what you’d say to him, exactly, but…You wanted to see him one last time, you guessed. 

“Very well, sir. Over and out.”

“Over and out.” 

You hung up the call and finally reached headquarters. The high wired fence kept a wall between the headquarters to the citizens of the city. Having left your car behind, you walked through the citizen entrance. The guard here wore a black and white uniform, and he nodded when you gave your identification card. You noticed his short, stocky stature, and saw he wore his visor low on his face. You couldn’t recall ever seeing this guard before. 

“Where’s Private Lee?” you asked impulsively when he handed you back your card. “He normally does the morning shift.”

“He was ill, sir,” the guard answered back. You’d heard that voice before, you knew you had. “I’m filling his spot until he gets better.”

You saw his name badge, seeing the words 'Kung Shinjin’ with the ‘private’ rank insignia on it. “Private Kung, is it?”

“Yes, sir. At your service.”

“I’ve never seen you before,” you said, “When did you enlist?”

“Two months ago, sir. They transferred me from Sector 2 after training.” 

You found that odd, but you didn’t put it at the top of your list. Hongjoong took up too much space in your head. 

“Hm, alright,” you said finally. “Welcome to the Pyramid, Private Kung.”

“Thank you, sir.” 

You walked up into the white building, and noticed the lack of people inside the main lobby. You guessed everyone’s at the capitol building downtown preparing for the parade and execution. You need to pick up the pace. Shin will no doubt want to talk before the parade begins, most likely to go over itinerary and the parade routes. You told him to keep an eye on them, since Hongjoong’s crew are bound to make an appearance. They'll want to retrieve their captain, and won't hesitate to kill to do it. 

Walking into the white and beige main lobby, you noticed two workers near the elevator doors. On a trolley, they rolled tall stacks of boxes towards the steel doors. On one of the boxes you read the name “Sal’s Bakery”. You guessed it was the President’s special celebration treat. He often did this to show appreciation to the military leaders. You expect you’ll have a box waiting on your desk in your office. Walking by them to the opposite elevator, you peeked inside to see dozens of thin white boxes with the bakery logo on them. You saw one worker, a young man with black hair hanging in his face, press the elevator button. The other man with him had short dark hair; both of them wore face masks as required by the Pyramid. A small tinkling caught your enhanced ear, and you saw the second worker drop a ring of keys. 

“Oh, hey,” you picked them up, “You dropped this.”

The worker turned to you, but his face mask hid half his face. “Thanks,” he said, taking the keys. 

“No problem,” a thought then occurred to you, “Hey, how much to take one of those off your hands? I have a friend in Containment who could use some decent food.” 

The two workers shared a look, then the short-haired one said, “Fifty.”

You scoffed at the price, but you supposed that’s what breaking the rules costs. You dug into your pocket for your wallet. You tried not looking at the box or the van for too long. More memories came flooding back to you. Hongjoong chewing on another hot, fresh donut from the box, smiling at a joke you told while you walked to class; him washing it down with a coffee and telling you that you were as sweet as the donuts. He’d always leave you the chocolate frosted ones because he knew how much you liked them. It became a special place for you both before classes. It’s another thing you’d burn down to kill your memories. 

You handed the worker the money, and he handed you a box. Opening it, you saw six glazed jelly donuts, still hot and fresh. “Thanks,” you said with a nod and left the workers to their deliveries. 

Entering the elevator, you pressed the level 8 button and let the doors close. The Pyramid is twelve stories tall, with General Bok’s office at the very top. The Pyramid was the epicenter of the military base, with housing and training grounds being right behind it nearby. You’re so accustomed to seeing more soldiers here, since the Pyramid is where mostly everyone worked. But, with preparations and security details in place, nearly everyone is at the city center. You honestly preferred it this way. Less people to congratulate you, or tell you how much they admire and support you. What you did wasn’t easy and you never wanted to go through it again. Your eyes landed on the -10 button on the panel. 

The Containment Center remained underneath The Pyramid floors starting on ground level and going down ten more floors. The most dangerous or high-profile prisoners remained on levels -9 and -10, so that’s where Hongjoong is kept. You felt the steel box gradually descending, getting further and further from the low levels, and you thought of the time you and Hongjoong had an assignment in Containment.

Your instructor, Major Yoo, sent you to the jails to interrogate a Republic traitor and learn why he’d been caught sifting through a commander’s desk. After intimidating and questioning him, you learned he’d been threatened into the search by a high-ranking officer. When you both passed this information to Yoo, he asked you both what should be done next. You’d suggested arresting the officer immediately, but Hongjoong advised patience. He said they might learn who the officer is working for if they kept surveillance on him. He’d been right. He’d gotten high marks and an award for capturing the traitor, his rebel contact, and the information he’d been passing them. 

You were so proud to call him yours. 

Your watch pinged again, and you pressed your ear piece. 

“Hey Lt,” a smooth voice said over the phone. 

“Hey Boggs,” you said. “What’s up?” 

“Shin wanted me to tell you that the parade is gonna start soon,” he said, “And to hurry up. You know, because you’re the star of the show.”

You scoffed, “As if. I’m not the one getting executed today. Tell Shin I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“YN…” you heard the seriousness in his voice. Boggs rarely ever used your real name. It was always ‘Lieutenant’ or ‘LT’ or ‘Hwang’. “I know this isn’t the best time, but when this is over and done with, I…I think I’m dropping out of Task Force 66.”

You didn’t ask why or protest. “Because of Sticky?” 

“No, because of Jisung…”

Jisung. Another soul lost to Task Force 66’s hunt. The youngest of the whole squadron, he’d become everyone’s little brother. Fresh from the Academy, he had the sharpshooter skills you were looking for; a marksman to rival Jung Wooyoung, best sharpshooter in the entire force. You’d see Jisung make near impossible shots, shoot at multiple moving targets, and never miss once. Sadly, even the far distance couldn’t keep him safe. He’d wanted to impress you, you supposed. He always sought your approval and praise, which you found endearing. “How did I do, Lieutenant?” “Lieutenant, did you see that?! I got him right in the eye through his own scope!” 

‘Lieu-Li-Lieutenant, I want to g-g-go ho-home…’

Private Do Jisung died in a battle fighting rebel forces in Sector 8, an industrial area of factories and refineries supplying the capital. You’d learned Hongjoong and his crew would be there, hiding out underneath an abandoned chemical factory, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity. You couldn’t stop yourself from picturing you and Jisung moving side-by-side in the large factory.  The grenade came through one of the broken windows, rolling and stopping by a few boxes labeled ���chemical hazard’ on them. You didn’t have a chance to see who’d thrown it, but you did see Jisung dive right in front of you. The small grenade set off a chain reaction, causing barrels and boxes of flammable chemicals to explode all around you. His legs blown off in the blast, the medic couldn’t get to you because of the raging fires. You remember dragging him through the building, heat and smoke filling your lungs, until you brought him outside. You’ll never forget his ashen face going into shock. He died right there in your arms. The medic wasn’t needed. Jisung was only twenty. 

“What about Jisung?” you asked, watching the elevator numbers slowly go down. It’s slower underground. You hated it. 

“It’s the officials,” he said. “They told Jisung’s parents he died in an accident, but that couldn’t be right. The factory turned out to be a dead end, remember? Kim and his crew weren’t there, and the place was empty. I only saw one person there, and they got away before I could catch them. Why would they say it was an accident when it wasn’t?”

“They don’t really have proof that the guy you saw was there,” you explained, though something about it sat wrong with you. 

“But you saw that grenade go through the window.”

No explanation for that. You vividly recall the small black ball going through a lit up window and smacking onto the floor. You’d heard it seconds before Jisung, who then pushed you out of the way. 

"Maybe they don't want to admit we were caught off guard," you finally said. 

But you knew the opposite. Something about the entire situation bothered you, and Boggs knew it too. You wondered if Shin suspected the same thing. 

"So, you're leaving us then?" You asked, trying not to seem disappointed. "Where are you gonna go?"

"I don't know. Maybe get a security post like my dad did. We can talk about that later," he said. 

"How's Sticky?" 

Pak Sunmi. Quick thinking and tough, she joined your team with four years of service under her belt. Slight and long, Sunmi had many specialties but the biggest was getting into places others can’t. Not only with her good looks and non-threatening appearance, but with the parkour skills she picked up at a young age. You swore she flew through the sky when she ran, jumping and flipping and sliding like the wind carried here. You once joked she must have sticky hands to be able to hold onto surfaces so easily, and the nickname stuck. 

During your capture-and-detain mission on The Valiant, Sunmi crossed paths with Jeong Yunho. Him being several inches taller did not stop Sunmi from taking him one on one. You didn’t see the fight yourself, but Boggs had found her lying unconscious in the ship’s upper deck. The hospital medics told you she suffered severe cranial damage, and would need to be kept in the hospital until her surgery wounds healed. 

“She’s holding up,” he answered. “Her head hurts like a bitch, and she’s trying to get used to the metal plates in her skull, but she’s good. She convinced the doctors to let her see the parade."

"Is that safe?"

"I don't think so, but I'm not a doctor." He then added, "She said she wanted to talk to you too. Something wasn't right about what happened to Jisung, and she mentioned what happened to her too."

"What do you mean-

‘-Level -7: Containment Center Administration Offices and Directory.’

“I gotta go,” you told him, “I’ll see you later.”

“Alright, Lt. Over and out.”

“Over and out.”

You stepped out of the elevator and walked over to a receptionist desk where a young woman with orange corkscrew curls sat typing. 

“Excuse me,” you said, “I’m-”

“-Lieutenant Hwang,” she smiled, “Yes, I was told you’d be on your way here. He’s in cell 03 on level 10.” She punched in a few numbers, and a label popped out of a printer on the desk. “Here, scan that in the elevator and it’ll take you further down.”

“Thanks.” 

You turned to leave when her voice stopped you. "Um, Lieutenant?"

"Yeah."

She nervously rolled her pencil between her fingers and said, "I just wanted to say…I think you're a real hero."

Her words didn't shock you like they should. "For capturing a well known rebel outlaw, yeah-"

"-No, for what you did for those people in the lower sectors," she corrected. "I had no idea people outside the city suffered so much until I saw them on television. Those poor children…they must've been so scared, and those women…It makes me sick thinking about it. You were so brave to go into that town and do what you did. I don't think I could've done that."

The border town. That's what she's talking about, you realize. You and your squad rode out to a town on a border to refuel and stock up supplies. When you arrived, it was chaos. Women were rounded up like livestock in a pig pen; dead men hung from posts and roof tops, naked and burned. You first thought it'd been outlaws who raided the village, but to your horror, you learned it was a Republic squadron. You confronted their commander, who you discovered initiated the attack. He claimed they'd been harboring rebel soldiers. You saw right through his lie. 

And shot him point blank. Just like the other three. 

A young journalist hiding in a crate captured the "heroic moment" on camera and survivors of the raid told him their stories. Their suffering at the hands of the Republic opened up the eyes of city citizens, who'd been kept ignorant to the plight of those outside. The news started a string of charity events and fundraisers for the poor, homeless people in the sectors. Being charitable became trendy, and you kept being invited to gala after gala as a speaker. You hated it. You've never been good at speeches. But, the money went to the people who needed it the most. Seeing the sunken faces of starving children curl into smiles as they carried home sacks of oil, grain, and water made the "trend" worth it. 

You thought you and the crew would be imprisoned for killing the commander and his men but it never came. In fact, they awarded your squad medals of honor and heroism. General Bok declared the offending squadron as war criminals and deserters of the Republic; a bullet is what they deserved. He proclaimed your squadron personified everything the Republic stood for. 

You knew that wasn’t true. 

"It was the right thing to do," you shrugged. "Those people weren't the enemy. They were innocent." Much like the people in that hospital. You felt sick all over again. 

"I'm glad that at least there are some good soldiers still out there," she said. "Hopefully with The Pirate King dead, the war will end and everything will be alright."

You didn't have the heart to tell her how the war ending meant nothing. 

"Hopefully. Have a good day."

"You too."

You went back to the elevator down to the tenth level, pressing your label against the scanner until the doors closed. The government did a good job convincing people that the world will be as it was when the war ends. All their problems will be solved and things will return to normal. You didn’t see how that could be possible. Both sides have gone too far to ever be what they once were.  

When the doors opened again, the chill of the underground levels pinched your cheeks. White walls, linoleum floors and fluorescent lighting gave the holding cells a sterilized look. Walking down them, your footsteps made almost no sound, as if the walls absorbed the soft taps instead of bouncing them back. No wonder people went insane down there. You walked past several guards posted at doors or coming around corners, all of them nodding at you when you passed.

High-profile prisoners of the state had large cells locked behind two sets of doors. The first room you entered had a guard sitting behind a desk and another standing ready by the door. With a show of your label, the desk guard let you through. The door guard opened the main door into another small room with a thick, steel door on the other side. He opened this for you, then let you walk into the antechamber. 

“Fifteen minutes, Lieutenant,” the guard said, voice muffled by his mask. 

“Don't worry. It won't be long. Thank you, soldier.” 

He popped open the steel door, and you walked inside. In a room of white, he stood out like a sore thumb. Dressed in an orange jumpsuit, The Pirate King looked vastly different from the boy in your memories. Hongjoong’s cyan hair hung over his eyes and undercut on the sides

 He had more ear piercings, indicated by the small holes your bionic eye picked up instantly. He wasn't taller, but he'd gotten buff for sure. Years of being on the run and fighting Republic soldiers certainly took their abuse on his body. However, what caught your attention instantly was his left hand. Made of steel plates, you saw the thin wiring between them every time he moved his hand. Since he kept his sleeves rolled up, you saw it went well past where your hatchet cut him. When he turned at your footsteps, he paused. He kept his eyes on your face, stunned and unable to look away. He'd once looked at you that way. At the Prestige Academy Winter Ball, where he told you that you outshone every girl there. 

"I know," you said. "Not as pretty as I was at the winter dance."

"You'll always be beautiful to me," he replied, and you didn't see a trace of a lie. Not even when your sensors checked his vitals and pupils. "I didn't do that to you, did I?"

"No. One of Song’s bombs did," you replied. You then lifted your pant leg to show him your metal leg, "You did this." You then looked at his hand again. His screams from that fight echoed in your ears; the blood that spewed and gushed from the wound and his pained cries churned your stomach. "They couldn't fix it?"

"No. Yeosang said you'd cut it almost in two," he said. "Thankfully, he and Mingi made this for me. It's not a shiny Republic model, but it works." He stared at your leg, "You didn't upgrade?"

"I didn't want to."

"Long pants at training?"

"Shorts still. I wanted to inspire my men."

"Like a true Republic Lieutenant." You hated hearing that. Hongjoong noticed this change in you, and said, “Are you not a Lieutenant?”

“I am,” you straightened up. 

He eyed you closely, not speaking. You hated it when he did that. It was the look he gave when he interrogated a prisoner, and wanted to read them. You squirm underneath his stare. He didn’t say anything at first, but you knew he would soon. He walked forward and sat a foot away from the glass. You did the same, pushing the plastic chair aside. Leaning forward, you pressed your label to a scanner, and a flap opened. 

"I got donuts," you said, pushing the box through the hole to him. 

Hongjoong hesitated. He looked between you and the donut box, and you saw his jaw clench. “I thought you might be hungry,” you instantly explained. “If you don’t want them, you don’t have to eat them.”

“No, it’s good,” his expression instantly changed back to a casual one, which threw you off, “Thanks.” 

Gingerly, he opened the box and stared inside before picking out a donut. You watched him eat the first once, shutting his eyes and taking in the sweet treat. Your hands curled up into fists as you bit back the lump in your throat again. A vision of a blue-haired boy eating a donut, wearing his white academy uniform, and smiling at you crossed your mind. It plunged a knife into your chest, and you regretted coming here. 

“Why did you ask for me?" You asked him, not masking your discomfort at all. 

"I wanted to see you."

"Why?" 

"Because I'm going to be dead in a few hours, and I wanted to see your face," he admitted openly. 

"Why?"

"Because I still care about you."

"I was sent to capture you," you said. "I was assigned an entire task force to hunt you down, subdue you and bring you here to your death. I haven’t seen you in three years. The last time I did see you, I nearly chopped off your hand and you severed my leg." Anger festered in your stomach and couldn’t stop it from surging hotly. You leaned in closer to the glass, glaring at him. Why did he do this to you? Why does he still have this effect? You hated the uncertainty. You hated the ‘not-knowing’. "Why did you ask me to come?"

Hongjoong hesitated over his donut, then said, "I wanted to know exactly when a loyalist, a servant of the Republic, lost her faith."

You knew what he meant, but didn't respond. 

"The YN I remember would blindly follow any order her superiors gave her," he said. "She did whatever they asked, no matter how morally wrong it was. You…you're not her anymore. I’ve heard about the things you’ve done out there in the field. People I’ve met always mention a Republic woman with one eye saved them, or came to their side when they needed it. A true Republic soldier would sooner shoot a person than offer her hand. So, when did it happen?"

You'd avoided talking too much about it. If you went too deeply, it'd open up things you wanted locked away. You stared at him, arms crossed, and couldn't stop thinking of the little boy who you met at a fancy dinner party years and years ago. 

"The kids," you heard yourself say. "I was on patrol with my crew when we came across a supply outpost. We'd finished sweeping out rebel hideouts along sectors 4 and 5, and decided to regroup with others in the area there. The plan was to refuel, restock our supplies, then head back to the camp. I'm there giving cover as my team started refueling when I noticed a black truck near one of the fuel spouts. It had the Republic seal on the side, but it didn't look like any truck I recognized. It reminded me of those supply trucks that come in and out of bases." You took a second, picturing the large truck sitting at the edge of the small camp site. There'd only been one other group there at the time, so it could only have been theirs. "I was walking by it when I…" you gulped thickly, "Heard someone inside." You held yourself tightly. It'd been sweltering hot that day. The humid heat stuck your clothes to your skin, and you thought you might die from the heat. "I saw some soldiers not paying attention, so I used my baton to open the back. They…I saw…I…they looked so small, and so scared."

"The kids?"

"It was boiling in that truck, and the air smelled horrible," you said, gulping the lump in your throat. "They had these water jugs attached to their cages and I saw candy wrappers and chip bags on the floor. They were dirty, tired and hot. One boy looked like he might pass out. I gave him my water, and asked who they were and why they were there. A girl told me soldiers went into their town and killed everyone…and took the kids…I…I couldn't believe they were Republic. I thought the soldiers might be outlaws pretending to be soldiers to get through barricades easier." You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the tears back. Too many things threatened to make you cry, and you wouldn't leave here crying. "I confronted the driver. He didn't even seem scared or bothered. He said that a commander ordered them to round up some kids for an indoctrination process. I had no idea what that meant, and he said I didn't need to know…"

"Indoctrination?"

"It was a lie," you waved it away. "One of his comrades came up to us next, recognized me from the Academy, and told me the truth. He said some big commanding officer gave him and his squad money to smuggle kids into the city. I was…it was sick. I couldn't believe him. I thought he was making it up. I," you squeezed your eye shut as you remembered what you did next. "I shot him. No questions. No comments or concerns. I pulled my side arm out and shot him point blank. I did the same to the driver and the third person on their team."

"Then you freed the kids."

"Then I let them out, yeah. I want to say that this was a one time thing and I didn't dig into it deeper, but I did. I contacted Internal Affairs and they did an investigation. Do you want to know what they found?" 

"What?"

"That there was an entire child ring going through our government," you spat in disgust. "Elite officials would contact someone within the patrol squads to go into active rebel areas, kill everyone, and take the children. Then they'd…it was horrible. I thought those responsible would see justice and be imprisoned, but nobody was. The lower level guys were jailed, but not the ones above them. Those people received no consequence at all. Not even after the news came out about it. Nobody was punished. They were let go."

"Republic Justice only applies to the poor," Hongjoong said, "Not the ones meant to uphold it." 

"I was disgusted. I'd sworn an oath to uphold and defend the laws put in place by the Republic," you replied. "I swore to protect and serve the people of this country. I bled, I fought, and I killed for this nation, and then to turn around and see the people who made those same oaths breaking them. It made me question myself, and I hate that." 

"I know what you mean," he said. "That's how I felt when I saw Republic soldiers shooting wounded people coming out of a burning hospital.”

Your eyes glanced at the clock in the room. It’d been ten minutes already. 

“You’re not a bad person, YN,” he said. “Even I know what you did in that little border town. You saved those people-”

“-I didn’t,” you cut him off. “I came way too late to do anything meaningful-”

“-Your little heroic act opened up people’s eyes to what’s going on outside the walls,” he said. 

“People only know about it because a journalist happened to capture it live.” 

“The things you’ve done since then prove you’re not a bad person,” he said. “The people of the Republic respect and admire you because you genuinely care about them. You see injustice being done and stop it, rather than leave it be. How many of your comrades will say they would’ve done what you did? Not many.” He let your words hang between you, and he finished his donut. “Did they punish you for shooting the guy?”

“No,” you said. “They gave me a medal.”

He snorted, “For killing one of your own?”

“They deemed the squad who did it as war criminals, and said that’s the Republic’s justice at work,” you sighed, shaking your head. “The Republic’s Justice…What the fuck does that even mean?”

“It means killing people who don’t comply with their rules or make them look bad,” he said. "It means covering up their tracks, inventing stories and intimidating people into silence."

“I should’ve gon-” 

You stopped yourself before the words fully came out. Hongjoong and you both stared at one another. You wouldn’t tell him about all the nights you envisioned having followed him, and being together. “I wish you had too,” he said softly, “But then we’d both be dying and I don’t want that.”

“Even after everything?”

“I never wanted you dead, YN. I still don’t, even if you want me dead-”

“-I was only following orders-”

“Then why didn’t you kill me?”

You hesitated. 

“When you found me in the lower deck of my ship-”

“-Is it really a ‘ship’ if it’s on land?-

“-You could’ve shot me on sight,” he pressed on. “You could’ve put a rain of bullets through me, and made up a story afterwards. I wasn’t armed. I wasn’t threatening you. I didn’t put up a fight. Killing me right then would’ve been the easiest part of your day, but when you burst into that room with your rifle trained on me, you didn’t pull the trigger.”

“They ordered me to bring you in alive, and despite my own morals, I follow instructions,” you excused, though this wasn’t true and he knew it. 

“It’s pointless to lie to a dead man,” he told you. “If you were only following orders, why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance? Hm? You know that there's the high possibility I'll escape or that my public execution could stir up more trouble outside. You can tell anyone who would listen that you’re just doing your job, and you can pretend you’re a loyalist all you want, but you and I both know the real reason you didn’t shoot me.” He pushed the donut box aside and came right up to the glass. The hostility and animosity of the previous minutes softened, making you fall into his big brown eyes like you used to. “And they know it too,” he whispered. “Don’t go to the parade.” 

His sudden warning threw you off. “What?” 

“Don’t go," he pleaded. "Please. Promi-”

“-Time’s up, Lieutenant.” 

“I love y-”

A large hand gripped your arm to pull you up. Your eyes remained focused on Hongjoong. What did he mean? Sudden dread and fear filled your bones. Hongjoong didn’t say anything else, but you saw the tears pooling in his eyes as the soldier pulled you through the chamber door. What was going to happen at the parade? A possible jailbreak could be the only explanation. Perhaps Hongjoong coordinated his capture so that he’d be in the Pyramid, where his forces could strike an assault on the city. He doesn’t want you to be there when the fighting starts, but if he thinks you’ll sit by while it happens, he’s clearly forgotten a lot about you. The soldier roughly pushed you from the main room and back out into the hallway. You gave him one last glare before heading back to the elevator. If Hongjoong’s crew intended to sabotage the parade in any way, people needed to be warned. You tapped the ‘call’ button on your watch, which linked to your ear implant right away. 

“Lieutenant,” Shin’s voice came over the line, “The parade is gonna start soon, and I'd like to go over routes before-"

"-How many men do we have on the street?"

"Pardon?"

"How many men are currently on patrol?"

"A hundred or so," he said. "Why?"

"The Pirates are going to be there," you said, punching the ground level button with your fist. Anxiousness sparked the nerves already wiring your body. You watched the numbers begin to climb slowly. "Kim just as good as told me himself. I don't know where they're going to be or what their plan is, but I want those men armed and ready."

"Hold on," it was Boggs, "We're fighting?"

"-Boggs!-"

"-I'm not sure," you continued, impatiently watching the elevator rise from the ground. “I don’t know anything for certain, but I want firepower on the ground.”

“The General said he didn’t want any guns,” Shin managed to gain control of the communicator again. You heard Bogg’s deep voice somewhere in the background, “We’d be defying direct orders.”

“He’ll understand once I explain it,” you said.

Your mind began moving a million miles a minute. You addressed your wrist band and scanned around for the map application. A map of the city projected from the small screen. You saw red lines going through the parade route, lines you yourself drew up. “Captain,” you called Shin, “I want squads one through five scanning the rooftops, and squads six through nine sweeping the buildings. Ten, eleven, and twelve can stick to the city center, and thirteen can surround The President’s car.” 

“I’ll get right on it, sir,” Shin replied. 

You heard a bit of commotion and grunting before Bogg’s voice came through. “Lieutenant, what do you need from me?”

“Contact the armory and get on the radio channel,” you said, “Tell everyone the news and start getting them geared up.” 

“-Damnit, Boggs! Give me my communicator!-

“-And then I want you and Shin to meet me here at the Pyramid,” you told him. “If The Pirates are in the city,” the elevator finally reached the ground floor, “One or two of them are likely to be on the route from here to the city center.” 

“You got it, sir,” Boggs confirmed. “Want me to alert Sunmi?” 

“She's not in fighting condition. Get moving.”

“Yes, sir.” 

You both hung up and pressed the top floor button. Dialing another number in your wristband, you waited until the person answered. 

“General Bok Kyungmin’s office, Jalissa speaking,” said a melodic woman’s voice. 

“Jalissa, this is Lieutenant Hwang YN,” you told her, “Is General Bok still there?”

“He is, Lieutenant. Would you like me to patch you through to him?”

“As soon as you can, please.”

“One minute, please.” 

You curled your hand into a fist to stop it from shaking. Hongjoong's warning rang in your head. If it was an attack, his warning sounded odd. The pitch. The inflection. The way his eyes watered when he whispered it to you. It didn't sound like a threat or an amused warning. He didn't want you to go there. Hongjoong protected you, of course, but he never tried stopping you. He'd go with you. He’d strap on his own weapon to give you cover. Hongjoong, this time, did not want you in the way. 

"Lieutenant Hwang," General Bok's raspy voice sounded in your ear, "I just heard your man Boggs over the radio. Is this threat legitimate?"

"I'm afraid it is, sir."

You explained to him that you'd obliged Hongjoong’s last request for a meeting and what he'd told you. Bok listened without interrupting, but you sensed the apprehension on the other end. You told him the plans you put into motion, and your suspicions. 

"I figure it is better to be safe than sorry, sir," you finished, standing outside and scanning the area for Boggs and Shin. "If The Pirates are here, whatever plans they have could impact hundreds. I say we issue an evacuation plan."

"No," he said abruptly. "To evacuate at this stage will let them know we're onto them. This might be our best chance at capturing the rest of them."

"Sir, there will be civilians on the street," you said, stunned by his words. "I think we should be trying to avoid as few casualties as we can. If they have bombs, sir, they will kill hundreds."

"And send everyone into a panic?" He said. "There will be hysteria in the streets if we start an evacuation. Keep this news as down low as possible. We don’t want a riot on our hands. Stay at Kim’s side and don’t take your eyes off him.”

“But, sir-”

“-That’s an order, Lieutenant.”

And you always follow orders. “Yes, sir,” you said defeatedly. 

“You and the rest of your team go to the Containment exit and escort Kim to the city center,” he said next. “I will meet you there.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He hung up without another word, and you moved into action. The exit for Containment was located behind The Pyramid, in a closed off section that required special permission to pass through. You pressed your badge to the gate, and walked through into a garage of black armored vans and trucks. You relaid the General's instructions to Shin as you found the Containment garage entrance; you told them you'd meet them at the city center instead. Going to an emergency cage, you unlocked the gate and pulled out one of the automatic rifles lined up. Clicking on the magazine, you double checked the safety button, and then slung it over your shoulder. You kept your side arm attached to your thigh, so you only checked the clip for bullets. Your foot tapped as you waited for Hongjoong’s truck; his warning came back to you. Coupled with the General's odd orders, you couldn't stop the unsettlement poking at your nerves. 

The elevator doors from the Containment Center opened, and you saw Hongjoong, wrists and ankles chained together, surrounded by four soldiers dressed in black uniforms. You would've thought they were twins with their long bodies and height. They kept their visors down, and guns to their chests. They must've been ordered to shoot-to-kill if Hongjoong tried escaping. Turning around, you faced the two soldiers from earlier. They gave each other a glance at the sight of you, looked at Hongjoong behind them, and then back at you. 

"At ease, soldiers," you told them, "General Bok has instructed me to accompany your escort team."

"That isn't necessary, Lieutenant," one of them said. "We can handle him from here."

"I'm not asking," you said a bit firmly. "Let's get him loaded in and move out." When they didn't react, you glared, "I said 'move out', soldiers."

They all exited the elevator and you walked beside Hongjoong. 

"What are you doing here?" He asked, unbothered by the soldiers around you both. 

"What a Lieutenant is supposed to do when a rebel terrorist warns them of an attack," you answered. "I informed my superiors and put safety precautions in place." 

You reached the Containment truck. The President had this truck especially made for prisoners heading for their execution. The size of the usual large vans, the back of the truck is made of shatter-proof glass lined with steel borders. Only the prisoner is meant to be loaded in there with two guards. You intended on being one of them. His men will come for him, and you'd be ready if they did. The two soldiers went to the front seats, while you loaded Hongjoong into the glass cage. Sitting across from one another, your back to the front driver's seat and his to the back doors, you two were once again alone. 

"You shouldn't be here," Hongjoong said. "I told you not to come."

"If you think I'm going to let your little pirate friends attack this city," you said, "You've clearly forgotten things about me."

"That's not what I was talking about," he leaned in closer to you. “They’re planning to kill you.” 

Once upon a time, you would’ve scoffed and brushed him off. Yet, after seeing how the Republic handles ‘problems’, you hesitated before speaking. “You’re lying,” you decided. “You’re trying to throw me off, and it’s not going to work.”

“When have I ever lied to you, YN?” he asked you, eyes pleading with you. “Your friend, Jisung? The one who died in that factory explosion?” 

You glared, “What about him?”

“The intel you received about that place wasn’t real,” he said. “We were never there. They told you to go there because they hoped you’d die in the explosion they set up.”

You thought back to the factory, a building made of stone and wood, full of plastic and wooden crates and barrels of hazardous chemicals. Back then, you simply thought whoever owned the factory left behind the materials. Yet, truly digging into your mind, you never heard of a business not completely gutting out their factories or warehouses. They might have abandoned equipment, but not materials, especially expensive and rare ones. Then, you recalled the little click and thump that happened seconds before the explosions. You remembered Boggs telling you about the person he’d seen. 

“You blew up that factory,” you said, frozen in place in your seat. You hardly noticed the truck reaching the gates. 

“You really think I did that?” he sneered at you. “My crew might be known for blowing stuff up, but we don’t do it pointlessly. If I bomb a place, it’s for a specific reason. It’s to make a statement. We had no reason to light up that factory. It was in the middle of nowhere, abandoned, and useless to anyone but the homeless. We would’ve wasted our resources blowing it up.” He paused, “He wasn’t the target. The building wasn’t the target. You were.”

He let the words hang between you for a few seconds before the truck stopped at the main gate. He must be lying. 

“I’m sure they didn’t mean for your comrade to die, but these things happen in war.” 

He never lied to you. Not a single time. No matter which side you move to, Hongjoong never lies. Meanwhile, your government lied countless times. You didn’t want to show him any uncertainty. The clear truck finally made its way onto the streets where people lined the sidewalks. Several of them saw Hongjoong, and you saw the hard glares and the objects they threw at him as it passed. You heard muffled jeers through the glass, people thankful that he is going to the noose. Yet you couldn’t help notice the few people who recognized you sitting in there with him. They waved their Republic flags, beamed brightly at you and called out your name. Students from Prestige Academy still in their crisp white uniforms, jumped up and down to get a tiny nod from you. Your heart fell into your stomach. They had no idea. 

“They love you more than they hate me,” Hongjoong smiled slyly. “I wonder why that is?”

“Shut up,” you said quietly. 

“Could it be that they see you as a hero?-”

“-I said ‘shut up’, inmate-”

“-That they see you as someone who gets things done?-”

“-What part of ‘shut up’ do you not understand?-”

“-Unlike our president who sits back and does nothing to help his suffering people? The same president who sat by as officers violated and abused innocent children? The same man who did nothing to punish those responsible for dozens of raids on border towns where innocent women, children and men were slaughtered like animals?” He leaned forward, eyes locked on you. “The person whose reputation you tarnished when you shot those soldiers?”

It made sense. You hated to admit what Hongjoong said could be plausible. You’ve seen what happens to those deemed enemies of the state. You watched several executions of people who may have shed a bad light on the president specifically. A lieutenant who uncovered disturbing, disgusting truths about him and his officials could very much be next. But why didn’t he simply have you arrested? The answer came to you through the people on the street. A woman on the street holding a magazine with your whole face on it told you why. She held your face. Not Yoon’s. You thought of the vendor from this morning. 

‘You’ve done a lot more for people than Yoon for sure.’ 

“He’s in his mansion,” Hongjoong continued, “Gorging himself on delicacies that people could only dream of eating. He throws these grand parties at his home while people all around him struggle to put shoes on their kids’ feet. He could stop this war at any point; he could call a cease-fire and discuss negotiations with the leaders, but no. He lets it continue because he’s secretly being paid by war profiteers who are reaping the benefits of this ongoing war. He doesn’t care about the poor. He only cares about the rich,” he then said, “The people saw you defend those who needed you, and they saw that their leaders wouldn’t do the same. You wouldn’t use their hard earned tax money to have all this fan fare over an execution. You’d put a bullet in my head and call it a day.”

“It’d be cheaper, for sure.” 

“Do you read the papers at all?” he asked. 

“I’m not always near a newsstand.”

“President Yoon’s public approval went down by 15-points when the news about the kids came out, and when people saw nothing was being done,” he said. “It went down even further when people learned what was going on in the sectors outside of here. People saw him doing nothing about it, and lost trust in him.” He gazed over your face, eyes landing on your lips before going to your eyes, “They saw you at those border towns, giving food to starving kids, and saw someone who can be a leader.”

“I’m not a leader.”

“Yes, you are, and they don’t like that.” 

“I don’t believe you,” you said. “You’re trying to get me off my game. You’re using this to distract me so when your men show up, I’m not fully aware of it.” 

“You know I’m telling the truth,” he said. 

“Where did you even get this information?” you asked irritably. 

“Yeosang came upon it a few weeks ago,” he replied. “When he hacked into the intelligence main frame in hopes of finding plans for the new bombs your people are building. He found a locked file, and being nosey, he broke into it to find a list of people labeled as ‘person of interest’. He found that the Intelligence Division had been tasked with keeping surveillance on certain people: politicians who spoke out against the Republic, billionaires who they’d bribed into supporting the cause, and people suspected of working for the rebellion. He cross checked that list with the names of people who died under ‘mysterious circumstances’, and a good chunk of them are dead now. Poisonings, accidents, and unsolved murders were a common theme.” He paused, looking over your face once more, “Your name was on there, YN. It’s why I came here. You have shown your distaste at the Republic, and there’s a strong likelihood you’ll join the rebel cause. If you do, you’ll have all the information we’d need to defeat them.” He saw your hesitation, and said, “You know they’re corrupt enough to do it.”

It sounded too coincidental. It sounded like the sort of thing an enemy would come up with to distract you. Yet, was Hongjoong truly an enemy? A real enemy wouldn’t give away his own jailbreak. Had you captured any other rebel leader, they wouldn’t be with you right now. As the truck went up the street, you considered his words again. 

Boggs mentioned seeing someone throwing the grenade into a window seconds before the explosion. If they wanted to go unnoticed, they’d wear all black to blend in with the night. You remembered the factory again. Most rebel hideouts showed signs of someone having lived there: sleeping bags, empty food cans, tables and chalkboards with photos and maps taped on them. The factory really looked empty with old cobwebs and dusty floors. Only chemical barrels remained behind in the rusty factory. But, were they really abandoned there or did someone place them there? You’re not sure. 

“You’re not a stupid woman, YN,” Hongjoong said. “They would’ve asked you to escort me to the platform, so then they can shoot you and blame me for it.” You saw his face become hard, holding back whatever emotions swelled up inside him. “That’s what they told you when you radioed in, right?”

And you always follow orders. 

Except the times you did not; the two times where you broke your oaths to The Republic and shot your ‘brothers in arms’. You’d indirectly and unintentionally exposed the corruption and perversion infecting your government. By releasing those children and liberating that town, you showed that you took your oath to ‘protect and serve’ seriously, while those above you did not. You turned back to the street where more people jeered at Hongjoong and cheered for you. 

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because they can’t hear us here. They think you won’t believe me, which is why you're here.”

Because you always follow orders. 

Your superiors believe you’re a blissfully ignorant soldier who does what they say without question. Yet, lately you’ve been proving them wrong and they can’t have that. You tried thinking of all the ways that he could be lying, but another fact always contradicted the first. 

“Be vigilant when we step out of this truck,” he said. “Wooyoung isn’t the only sniper up high.”

“How do I know he won’t shoot me and let someone else take the blame?”

“Because he isn’t a snake like them. He has his reasons for joining us, and for wanting to help rescue you.”

“Like what?”

“It’s not my story to tell.” 

The truck drove through into the city center. A large roundabout circling a golden fountain, you leaned against the window to see three beautiful statues: one was a woman with a blindfold holding two scales to signify The Republic’s blind justice; the third was a soldier crossing two swords over his head to signify the Republic’s strength and force, and the third was an androgynous figure holding a dove on their finger which signified the Republic's peace and prosperity. Three things that the Republic no longer had: peace, justice or strength. At the end of the motorcade stood Republic Hall, the courthouse and city hall combined. Standing up tall and made of white marble, you remembered you and Hongjoong receiving your graduation papers on the front steps. You’d both made your vows there like every other official did. Only difference is that you both upheld your promises. 

“I solemnly swear to uphold the justice, peace and strength of The People’s Republic,” Hongjoong said softly. “I wonder which one of us actually meant that when they said it: us or them?” 

The crowds here thickened throughout the morning, so people stood right up against the barricades keeping them off the street. Your chest filled with dread realizing they all stood underneath very tall stone buildings. If Hongjoong’s men have planted any explosives, they’ll be in those buildings and the people below will be casualties. You’d wanted to evacuate but The General disagreed. Why would he do that? These people have no part in his war on the rebellion. They shouldn’t be there. It didn’t matter how many uniforms carried weapons now; they’ll all be caught in the crossfires. The people standing on their balconies and hanging out of their windows will get the worst of it, since they’ll likely be closest to the explosions. You noticed, though, the amount of unoccupied windows. Their curtains drawn, they showed no signs of life behind their frames. People watching on television? Why watch on the television when it’s  happening right outside their window? You envisioned Jung Wooyoung, a member of the sniper division, sitting behind one of them with his rifle trained right on you. But, right behind that came the vision of a faceless, nameless Republic sniper who is also only obeying his orders. 

These pictures made every nerve in your body sink into adrenaline. Fight mode. No flight. Always fight. 

The truck eventually stopped right at the steps of the building. Standing in front of them was a wooden platform a crew constructed overnight. A basic gallows with the Republic flag hanging behind it, a singular noose hung from the rafters above a trap door. The young girl still in love wanted to reach for him. She wanted to hug and kiss him deeply one last time. She wanted to confess everything she felt, and how sorry and stupid she was. Your eyes met his as the truck came to a complete stop. 

“I don’t want you to die,” you said quietly, as if the universe might hear you and hasten his end. 

“I don’t want you to die either,” he said solemnly. “I love you, YN. I always have. I still do. I don’t think I’m incapable of loving you, even if you chop off my hand.”

“To be fair, you blew up half my face and crippled my leg.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you either. I thought I was…” the words died in your throat. “I…” you squeezed your good eye shut, “You shouldn’t love me.” 

“But I do.”

“Why?”

You saw the two soldiers climb out of the truck. “Because even when we both went for blood, grappling and fighting one another, I still missed you. I missed you in my bones, love.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.”

“But you shouldn’t,” you said through gritted teeth, your mouth going dry and throat closing up. 

“You’re not a bad person, YN. You just work for bad people. You’re still that girl who used to feed stray cats, give money to the homeless, and always tried to do the right thing despite what other people said. You’re a good person.” 

You saw them rounding to the back of the truck.

“I’m not that person anymore.”

“She’s in there. I know she is.”

“And she’s a fool,” you spat back at him, tears burning your eyes. No, you can’t cry now. “A fool who believed in the goodness of people; who believed that at the end of the day, justice prevailed. She thought she was fighting for the right side. The good side. There is no good side in a war-” they reached the back doors and stood to open them, “-Just a lesser of two evils.”

The roaring crowd finally reached your ears as the doors opened. You jumped out before anyone noticed your face, and stood aside for Hongjoong to be guided onto the pavement. You didn’t want to think anymore about what Kim Hongjoong feels for you. It only made your job harder. You couldn’t be distracted right now. Tapping your earpiece, the normal vision on your bionic eye changed to the infrared vision. It picked up the yellows, reds and orange heat of the people on the ground, but your eye swiveled away from them to the buildings above. You saw more figures blocking the view, but your eye stayed on the empty ones. Your good eyes searched for Shin and Boggs, who’d you’d told to meet you here. Perhaps they’d been held up. 

Or worse. 

Once the soldiers cuffed him again, doing their best not to tighten around his metal hand, you all began walking to the platform. There, you saw three people seated behind a podium to the left of the noose right by a set of stairs. General Bok sat farthest from the stairs, whipping his head away when he spotted you approaching; Vice President Han, a portly man with a shiny bald head and small thin-rimmed glasses on his long nose, and President Yoon. President Yoon was a tall, narrow man with thinning black hair and tight tanned skin. The plastic surgery often popular in the city showed in his thin nose bridge and puffy lips. You realized then that you hated him. Innocent children were trafficked and sold into sex slavery, and he didn’t seek justice because they were not Republic children. If anything, he benefited from it or took part in it. To him, the people in the sectors are not human, and should be treated as such. They are not important. They do not matter. What kind of president does that? Like Hongjoong said, he could stop the war at any time, yet insists it’s important that it continues. It is destroying his country, and he doesn’t care because it is not affecting him personally. The idea of this man having a hit list didn’t sound entirely off base. The two men with her were no better. 

You took your position at the bottom of the staircase, gun at your chest and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Your squadmates still remained missing. Shin told you they’d been around the city center. Your infrared vision did not pick up anyone in the buildings or roofs above. Then, someone called out to you:

“Lieutenant Hwang, please come up here and join us.”

Yoon had spoken, and he stared at you with a friendly smile. It felt as if someone filled your insides with snow. 

“Me, sir?”

“Yes,” he nodded, beckoning you up the steps. When you shakily reached the landing, he said, “I’d like you to be here with us,” he said, “You are responsible for The Pirate King’s capture and incarceration. I think it’s only right that you share some of the spotlight.”

“I was only doing my job, sir. I didn’t do it for any glory or-”

“-Like Bok said,” he laughed, “Modest until the end. Come. Don’t be shy.” 

He guided you to a spot a few feet behind him. You glanced over to Bok, who did not meet your eyes. Coward. If he is in on this assassination attempt, the least he can do is look at you. 

The soldiers walked Hongjoong across the stage, and your eyes met his. You noticed his watered with tears, even if he kept his composure and defiance up to the very end. Your own eye teared up again. Every laugh, every cry, every success and failure together flashed before you. The boy who loved glazed donuts and coffee, who wrote songs and loved music, was walking to his death because of you. You brought him here. You hunted him like a dog because the men around you said so. And how trustworthy are they? You watched them walk him right underneath the hanging noose. Your eyes stayed on him. You wanted to put every piece of him to memory before you lose it forever: the blue hair he genetically implanted to look cool, the perfect proportions of his body, the several piercings he had, and his bionic hand. Yeosang and Mingi did quite a job on it. You saw blinking lights right around the vital signs to keep track of his heartbeat which remained steady. 

“Welcome, citizens of The Republic,” Yoon began his speech, his voice booming over the cheering crowd. “I thank you all for being here with us as we celebrate this triumphant day. This day will be marked in history as the beginning of the end of our struggles-”

You remember when those hands used to expertly disassemble and assemble rifles in record time. They were capable of pain and pleasure in equal amounts. You missed them. You missed him. Perhaps you’ll join Boggs and resign from command. You don’t want to do this anymore. You don’t want to live in anguish forever. You then noticed his middle finger bouncing in his palm. Your bionic eye is still searching the buildings, your good eye focused on the finger. What was he doing?

“-The outlaw you see standing before you is a man who has-”

A blue light began blinking in a series of spaces and dots. Morse code. Your wristband went off in your ear, and you chanced a glance at the screen. A message from Unknown came through. Without tapping it, the message opened on its own. 

‘Apartment building on your left, fourth floor, third window from the corner.’ 

Infrared vision showed nobody there. You should’ve known. They’d wear reflective gear to conceal themselves. Zooming in on the window in question, you spotted a shadow behind the frilly white curtains. The incoming breeze made them billow inwards and the sniper had trouble hiding behind the window sill. You saw them. They wore the skull cap and mask of a sniper. You couldn’t let them know you’d seen them, otherwise they’ll abort the mission. 

“-Kim Hongjoong, you stand convicted of high treason,” said Yoon, “Piracy, destruction of Republic property, murder-”

Staring into the crowd, you saw him. Short and slight, a young delivery man kept his bike parked on the sidewalk against a brick wall. You recognized him from earlier in the day, the delivery boy who had the newspaper printed on the side of his bike. Though now he’d removed his helmet to show a mop of black hair curtaining a pale, handsome face. Kang Yeosang’s apologetic eyes met yours as you spotted something in his hand. You recalled the man from his days serving the Republic. He’d been part of the squad who defected at the hospital bombing. His skills with technology were only outmatched by Shin, who helped build the Pyramid’s firewalls and security systems. Your eye zoomed in on his hand, which you just made out through the crowd of people. You realized what it was right away. You shook your head at him. 

But, the blast did not happen in the street. The explosions came from far off in this distance. One large one that shook the very ground you stood on, followed by several more. Right at the same time, you saw several people in the crowd withdraw weapons from under shirts and jackets, and aimed fire at the officers on the ground. Your body swung into action. Pushing Yoon aside, you fired at the fighters on the sidewalks, using your eye as a scope to hit the right targets. Bullets punctured through the wooden stilts holding up the stage, blowing past you and the others on stage. 

“Evacuate the street!” you shouted, finding cover behind the President’s podium, “Set evacuation plans in order-”

“-That’s not my order, Lieutenant-” said General Bok, who’d taken out his own pistol to fire back, “-Negate tha-”

“-Get as many people down the street as you can,” you said over the radio, “We need to reduce the civilian casualties-”

“-Lieutenant,” Bok gave you a stern warning, and you glared back. 

You started giving orders through your earpiece, and watched all of them moving into action right away.  More explosions came from your left, and you realized they’d blown up the Pyramid.  But how? The two delivery men at the elevator. They had several long boxes with them that you thought to be donuts. You remembered Hongjoong’s reluctance to eat them you gave him, and it clicked instantly. The Pirates just destroyed communications, ammunition, artillery, and any support the Republic had left. You tapped your earpiece multiple times, hoping to get a radio through, but you were met with dead silence. 

“YN!” 

Hongjoong and the bullet reached you at the same time. Your enhanced ear caught the whizz of the bullet that would’ve struck your face had Hongjoong not pushed you down. It’d come from the direction of the apartment building. You don’t know how you know, but deep down you did. Using both hands, Hongjoong pulled down the wooden podium to shield you both from more gunfire. In the midst of the chaos, he must’ve broken free of his bonds. His face inches from yours, he said:

“Do you trust me?” 

Your brain couldn’t process his words. It could only comprehend your racing heart and need to get away and find your squadmates. 

“YN,” he said more forcefully, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” 

It came out in a single breath. You said it without thinking, and this time you didn’t take it back. The rush of wind came through next as a whooshing sound came overhead. Yoon and the other officials might not recognize the Valiant, but you and Hongjoong did. A metal hovercraft built with the fragments of wrecked Republic ships, the Valiant was various shades of black, white and gray. Hongjoong and his crew truly leaned into their ‘pirate’ nickname by molding their aircraft like the old pirate ships. The engine caused surges of hot air to blow through the streets, blowing people back onto the street. It lowered down above the gallows, and the hull opened to reveal two people standing there: Choi San and Choi Jongho. San still wore the delivery man uniform, while Jongho wore a Republic guard uniform. Officer Kwang. You should’ve known when you didn’t recognize him. They threw down a rope ladder, and Hongjoong took your hand. 

“I can’t,” you told him. “Not without my crew.”

“You can contact them later,” he said, quickly grabbing the ladder and bringing you over to it. “Start climbing. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Hongjoong-”

“-Go!” 

He took your rifle from you, aiming it towards the guards coming up the stairs. You put your foot on the first ring and started to climb. That’s when the second bullet went past you. Then a third. Then a fourth. The sniper clearly planned to carry out their mission regardless. A cold sweat went over your whole body, causing your hands to slip on the slim rope, but you kept climbing. The wavering ladder made you a moving target, and the sniper isn’t that good. You looked down at the halfway point to see Hongjoong still on the ground. You called out to him, but he didn’t hear you over the wind and gunfire. It’d been at that moment that a deep pain shot through your body from your leg. The sniper’s tenth bullet found home in your shin, having broken the skin and lodged into the bone. You thought your entire leg went numb, only feeling the searing pain every time you lifted your leg. You gritted through the pain, continuing your climb. You need to get to the top, to safety, to where you can defend Hongjoong the best. 

Another bullet sailed through the air into the back of your right shoulder. A lucky shot that burned in every pull upwards. You kept going. You did not stop or look around. The rushing winds made you deaf to anything anyone said to you. Your left ear picked up muffled sounds and static, which irritated what little bit of eardrum left inside. Then a third bullet caught you right when you reached the ramp several feet above the stage. 

“Fuck!” 

You screamed in agony as a bullet grazed your earpiece. Thick streams of blood wet the side of your face, and white noise filled your damaged ear before going silent completely. You felt the cartilage of your left ear as Jongho dragged you away from the edge; your finger went right through the split skin and it burned further. Your good ear-now truthfully good-only picked up the howling winds coming from ahead of you. The newest wound paralyzed the whole left side of your face. You could feel the mechanical ear malfunctioning still, clicking and shooting pain into your brain. The pain spread quickly to your eye, which started seeing static. Both enhancements connected together, one began malfunctioning once the other cut off. You felt blood atarting to seep from under the eye piece, and your chest tightened again. 

“Hongjoong,” you huffed, doing your best to hold back the agonizing pain in your ear. You felt shocks of pain spark every time you opened your mouth, and you couldn’t help pressing a hand to stop it. “Hongjoong….”

“He’s on his way,” Jongho said. “Sit down. Let me see your ear.” He checked your severed ear and he winced, “Damn, that looks bad. Here, put this there and hold it. Yeosang could fix you up really quick.” 

You took the rag from nearby and pressed it to your ear. However, the pain didn’t mask your concern for Hongjoong. One by one, his crew began appearing from the ladder: tall black-haired Jeong Yunho, who immediately rushed for the cockpit at the front of the ship; handsome Park Seonghwa, who grabbed a weapon from the rack and started firing down below; slender Jung Wooyoung who put down his tripod bag and knelt down to aim his sniper rifle into the buildings around the center; pink-haired Song Mingi, the one likely responsible for the explosions, who still wore his delivery man uniform, and Kang Yeosang in his delivery boy jacket. He spotted you grunting and doubled over in pain, and rushed over to you. 

“My…ear,” you growled, not wanting to remove the rag from the wound but also not wanting to press down. “It’s…broken….I think.”

“Come on,” he took you by the arm, “Let’s get you to the medical bay-”

“-But…Hongjoong-”

“-Hongjoong would want you to think about your damaged ear,” he said, ignoring your request and pulling you further into the ship. 

Your wounds made it hard to walk. You stumbled and fell into a wall before someone came up on your left side. Hongjoong. You knew it from the flash of blue you saw in a reflection. He said something, but you couldn’t hear him. Every muscle in your body went limp as your brain registered the sterile, silent infirmary in the ship’s second level. Yeosang and Hongjoong rested you on a metal slab, the bright light above you stinging your eyes and the hard metal being hard on your aching bones. 

“Just relax, Lieutenant,” said Yeosang, who went to work with a bottle and syringe, “You’ll be fine in a few seconds.”

“Hon-Hong-Jo-oo-ng-” you forced yourself to say through a loosening jaw. Any mechanics keeping your jaw straight now malfuctioned, making it nearly impossible to speak. 

“I’m right here, YN. I’m right here,” he shielded you from the bright lights above. His eyes full of panic and concern, he cupped your face and pecked your lips. “I’m right here. You’re safe now.”

“Hon-” 

A sharp pinch to your vein interrupted you. Morphine. Ulta-Morphine from the look of the aquamarine liquid filling the tube and going into your arm. The needle’s sting did not even register with the rest of the pain you felt. You took deep breaths, trying to steady your heart. You kept your eye on Hongjoong, unable to care or think about anything else. 

“I-I…” 

The right side of your jaw slackened, and you lost the ability to speak at all. “It’s okay,” Hongjoong said, “You don’t have to talk. Just rest, okay? Yeosang is going to fix it.”

He didn’t understand. You lifted a hand to his face, despite the burning pain in your shoulder, and he pressed it to his cheek. A sharp metallic taste filled your mouth, and you turned your head to spit it out. Everything hurts, but you needed him to know. You needed to tell him before it all ended. 

“Lo-Lov-ve-e yo-o-”

“I know,” he sniffed, kissing the top of your head. “I know.”

He did it all for you. He risked his life to save you. Even when you both fought and maimed each other, your love never waivered. The morphine finally hit your body, and all pain alleviated at once. Slowly, Hongjoong’s face faded to black. 

 ****

“Will you be able to fix it, Yeosang? It’s gonna heal, right?”

“I fixed the eye with no real problems, but the ear is lost. The bullet went right through the cybernetic pieces around it when it slashed her ear, so the whole piece short circuited and bursted in the canal. She’s lucky we got to it in time. It could’ve made her brain dead.” 

“Alright, but will she be okay, Yeosang?” 

“She’s stable now, but the ear will take time to heal completely. Once that’s happened, I can refit her with a new enhancement. I don’t feel safe doing it until it’s healed.” 

Hongjoong stayed beside the medical bed, watching a medical droid carefully changing the bandage around your head. It took a few hours for Yeosang and his assistant droid to patch you up, but you made it. They had to shave half of it to access the pieces attached to your skull. Yeosang and the medical droid managed to remove and patch up your bullet wounds, but your bionic pieces concerned him the most. He held your hand gently in his, kissing your knuckles. It’d been so long since he touched you this way. He remembered the days when he took any chance he could to touch you, whether hand holding or brushing hair from your face. He always had this need to feel some part of you; as if he needed to be sure he hadn't dreamed of you. Now, he had to wait until you’d become unconscious to hold your hand. 

"You must love her a lot," he heard Yeosang say, fixing up an IV next to your bed. "To risk getting executed for her."

"I do."

Yeosang didn't question his feelings for you like some of his crew members. He understood it better, perhaps, seeing as he'd defected like Hongjoong did. He'd been one of the physicians in his unit, and Hongjoong recalled him saving people from the hospital fire. Yeosang dragged them to safety, bringing them to a camp where rebel physicians worked on them without interference. He had people on the Republic side whom he loved, and would do anything to get back, if he could. 

"They'll blame it on her," he said to Hongjoong next. "They'll say she helped you and brand her a traitor."

"I know." He paused, "But they already thought that when she killed those men."

He'd heard about your heroic deeds through the channels. When he heard a loyalist lieutenant open fire on her fellow soldiers, he never thought it'd be you. He shouldn't have been surprised though. The Republic kept their citizens ignorant to the corruption and crime going on behind the scenes. They didn't know that their president was in the pockets of war profiteers and millionaires looking to cash in. They didn't know the things soldiers did to the people in the sectors, and how those people struggled to survive. They didn't know the fear, intimidation and pain with which the government used to hold power over them. You hadn't known, and you reacted far differently than he'd expected. When Kyungmin told Wooyoung a lady with one eye saved him and several other children, he questioned the boy further. When Jisoo tearfully explained to Seonghwa that a female soldier shot her captors at point blank, he needed to know more. 

It seemed he wasn't the only one who solved problems with bullets. 

Quick, heavy thumps made him turn around, and he saw Seonghwa standing in the doorway. He'd taken off his stolen Republic uniform, and wore a gray t-shirt over black pants and boots. Hongjoong noticed him panting and clutching the door frame. Soon, more footsteps came and Wooyoung and San appeared behind him.

"You need to turn on the TV," Seonghwa breathed, rushing to the monitor on the wall. "You need to see this. I can't believe it. They just announced it."

"Announced what?"

He turned on a monitor in the room where he saw the Republic news station covering the story. Lee Seojoon sat at her usual anchor desk, a solemn face despite her professional tone. 

"-At precisely two-forty-two this afternoon, President Yoon Byungho was pronounced dead. The fearless leader of the People's Republic received several severe gunshot wounds during the Victory Parade this morning. Republic law enforcements cannot say whether Kim Hongjoong, the rebel Pirate King, fired those fatal shots, but it is being investigated-"

"He's dead?" 

Hongjoong found this hard to believe. He knew he'd put a few bullets into the old man's back, but he hadn't seen him fall. His personal guards must've rushed him out of the battle and into the hospital. Hongjoong sat there imagining the man taking his final breaths and knowing he'd lost. The rebel leaders will soon hear of it, and plan an attack. The Vice president will no doubt take power, but he is weak compared to Yoon. They'd blown up their main command base and military center, and there is little resistance left in The Republic. It will fall and so will anyone who helped uphold it. 

He looked back at you, sleeping soundlessly in Ultra-Morphine Land. He had you back. He had you here with him again. He could protect you. You might not love him right away again, and things will never be how they once were, but you were in his life again.

That was the real victory. 

#outlawtheproject #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez san #ateez jongho #ateez yeosang #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #song mingi #choi san #kang yeosang #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

[stars-n-spice]

Thoughts on s3 ep 13!

fucking hell ya'll,, we're almost at the end of this and I simply can't believe it and don't want to believe it simply because I don't want it to end and I don't see how the fuck they're going to tie up all the loose ends in just the next two episodes.

This time around I recorded my reactions to it and it was a lot of yelling and making really weird noises,, but uh, y'know the drill!

Incoherent screaming (this time for real) and spoilers under the cut!

Click here for the audio recording of my initial reaction

WAAAAAH I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE OMEGA IN PRISON UNIFORMS AGAIN!!!

i forgot they had that baby up in there,, omg

FUCKIN' WAAGHHh why didn't omega try to like access that hatch thing at night?? wouldn't that have been less risky??

this episode stressed me the fuck out,, I have a headache rn holy fuck

EMERIE I'M ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PLEASE DO SOMETHING

wait how the fuck are they going to get that baby through the chute thingy??

Eva is so precious :( I love her so much

Omega has been in there for like probably a day or something and is already making plans to escape, I love her so much

"That's okay, I like a challenge" AAAAA WRECKER WOULD BE SO PROUD!!

Question: why the fuck do they keep taking samples if they know her blood is compatible??

PHEE COME BACK D:

I better see more of Phee somewhere, anywhere, please, I love her so much your honor

ALSDKF;A I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT RAMPART LMAOOO

Echo!!!! FUCKING HELL!!!! ECHO <3!!!!!

I missed Echo so much,, this episode really just showed that they couldn't have him in it because he would've gotten things done like five episodes ago because he's just that good

Them keeping Rampart is so funny to me idk

He was such a throw away character to me in the other seasons so I this is so hilarious to me, what a silly, pathetic man I need to see him get chewed up by a space animal or something idk

after all this time it was strange to see Crosshair in the background of things but he was still shoving Rampart around and I loved it

I SWEAR TO GO IF I SEE. Y'ALL THIRSTING FOR RAMPART!!! THAT MAN BOMBED KAMINO Y'ALL BEST REMEMBER WHO THE REAL ENEMY IS!!!

Rampart is basically Walmart Kallus

I swear to god, Hunter is getting shorter

Also looks like Crosshair is filling out :( He's finally getting to eat now :((

THEIR ARMOR ALL BLACKENED OUT??? WHAT A LOOK!!

Crosshair's helmet ESPECIALLY, it looks super cool

RAHHHHHH THAT SUPER LONG SHOT OF HUNTER LOOKING AT HIS BLACKENED OUT HELMET AGGUUGGHHHHH

Felt like I was watching an episode of Rebels due to how they were infiltrating the place

How the FUCK did nobody like,, notice?? insane. imperials are so fucking stupid I love that so much.

"Oh I don't think so" FUCKING AAAAA WOW THAT WAS HOT ECHO I LOVE YOU

WHEN WRECKER WAS JUST CHILLING ON HIS PHONE???? STOP. I'M ALREADY IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN!!!! FUCKING RAAGHHHHH

"Where is your captain?" - "Uh, captaining?" WRECKER MI VIDA!!!!

I've said it 100 times and I'll keep fucking saying it,, everything Wrecker does in this season is pure just,, everything he does is amazing, I love him so much, even in the background, him simply breathing?? Iconic. He better stay breathing.

WHEN HE WAS WEARING THE HAT OF THE GUY HE KNOCKED OUT?!?!? MARRY ME.

I know Rampart is stressed out of his mind LMAO bro is getting out of this with gray hair

"It's the only chance we have of finding Omega and freeing those clone prisoners" WHHHATTTTT HUNTER FINALLY THINKING ABOUT SOMETHING OTHER THAN OMEGA??? NO FUCKING WAY!!!

THE WAY CROSSHAIR WENT "he can't go alone" AFTER ECHO VOLUNTEERED TO SNEAK ABOARD THE SCIENCE VESSEL AAAAHHH i'm going to be sick,,

Crosshair and Echo dynamic my beloved

ECHO SLAY

OH MY BELOVED ARC TROOPER!!!!!!

last stretch of the episode had me so fucking stressed

i'm not ready for the next ones

"Negative" and all the Hunter girlies fell to their fucking knees

that was HOT

and stressful as FUCK

losing my mind

Music was insane, omg loved it

WAAAAAAAAAH I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S ALMOST THE END

AND FUCKING NOT A SIGN OF TECH???? WHAT THE FUCK

THAT'S NOT FAIR THAT THIS SHOW GETS ONLY 3 SEASONS AND FOR MOST OF IT CROSSHAIR, ECHO, AND TECH ARE BARELY IN IT!!! LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THAT TECH IS ABSENT THE WHOLE FUCKING THIRD SEASON ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?????

makes me fucking sick

they need to give us a whole ass season of all of them together being happy on Pabu I swear to god

this episode made me fucking sick ugh

everything sucks man oh my god

#cannot believe this is the third to last episode #i refuse to believe it #tbb #tbb s3 #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb omega #emerie karr #edmon rampart #max's musings

[serxinns]

Yandere mha x Scarlet witch reader extras 3 : Big sister eri!

(This is mostly a Platonic yandere eri and reader time)

Context: Mei wanted to test one of her inventions in you but it went wrong so while mei distracts the class big sister eri will take care of ya!)

"Are you sure this is gonna work?" you said while carefully sitting down and wincing at your broken arm "Yep! I've made sure the machine is safe and harmless without any harmful side effects!" Mei said determined to try on her machine while she got everything ready "Now all you gotta do is go wear this helmet and attach that arm band on the injured arm and hold very still that's it!" Mei explained putting on her goggles when she noticed how you were still a bit nervous but you trusted Mei you knew she wouldn't hurt you

"Ready?" Mei said "Ready," You said and took a deep breath Mei typed some codes and pressed a button and the machine started to shake a bit and suddenly ur broken arm started to hurt less but your body began to change as well you noticed how you're clothes were getting oversized "Uh Mei?!" you called in a panic by when she looked back it was too late in front of her was a toddler version of her beloved darling all still under your UA uniform "Ba?" you babble out confused of where you are "Y/n?!?" Mei said in shocked she picked you up to get a better look of you and yep it was you

"You're so cute!" She squealed while she cooed at you and tickled you making you giggle and make funny faces until she realized that your classmates were prob looking for you she scolded at the thought of it she wanted to spend time with you especially when you were this adorable and giggly! She tried making up a plan of how to hide you when suddenly She heard a familiar voice

"Excuse me Mei" Eri Came into the lab twiddling her fingers and looking around "Yes eri how may I help you?" Mei said while coaching down to Eric's level "Have you seen y/n recovery girl say that they were with you they promised that I could draw on their cast" Eri replied "Uhmmm. Well, they're right there...." Mei pointed at the toddler shoving their first in their mouth while cooing,

"Y/N?!?" Erik said with eyes wide open "What happened to them?!?" "Well I was working on a rewind machine so the injuries would rewind and heal but it worked a bit too well," Mei said nervously while scratching her head "But since you're here I got a job for you!" "What is it?" Eri looked at the pink-haired girl confusedly "You're gonna hi- I Mean watch y/n for a while so I can make an antidote on them" Mei lied doing a fake bright smile "But I don't know how to watch them what if I hurt them" Eri frowned looking down on the floor "You won't I promise you plus just imagine yourself being the Big sister!"

"Big Sister..?" Eri questioned "Yea you can protect y/n from bad guys!" Mei said punching her fist in the air meanwhile Eri was deep into her thoughts her being a big sister to you?!? It was a dream come true she can teach you things you taught her make you watch all her favorite shows and teach you how to be the greatest hero! Oh man, she can't wait "YAY! IM GONNA BE A BIG SISTER" Eri clapped her hands excitedly picked you up ran towards her room her room had a big toybox and her bed was a all might themed she had a bunch of plushies on the bed as well and a tv

"So y/n what do you wanna do!?" the toddler tilted their head and looked at her confusedly "You wanna have a tear party" "Ba!" you babbled exciting clapping ur hands "Great lemme go get the tea supplies"

Eri: and when I said "Mirio you can't have any of my candies their mine!" he said I had to SHARE

Baby y/n: *bangs hands on table and spits bubbles*

Eri: RIGHT?!

During your time with Eri she would make you play with a lot of her toys but had to stop when u kept chewing on one of her Barbie heads eri decided to show u a jack in a box but you ended up crying because of the jack looked scary so the 2 of you decided to watch cartoons suddenly Mirio, tamaki, and neijire came in

Miro: Hi Eri! Hows i- whos little baby is this

Eri: This is y/n!

Mirio: oh that's n- wait what

Eri explained how y/n got turned into a baby

"ahhhhh! Y/n San is so cute!" niejire was squealing and cooing at you while Tamaki tried to calm her down so she wouldn't scare you but she didn't blame her tho you were so small and adorable like a small little kitten "Eri can I hold them for a sec please?" Mario politely asked "Sure but hold her gently," Eri said sternly while Mirio chuckled "I will" When he reached his hands trying to wrap you around you did a grabbing position Mirio wanted to squeal right there but kept his cool and gentle demeanor not wanting to startle you

when he picked you up it was like holding a kitten you were so small and so cute! And the way you looked up and giggled at him he could just die right there "No fair Mirio let me hold them!" Neijire whined while trying to reach to you "But y/n promised me to play with me" Eri had a grumpy face while having her hands on her hips "Why dont we all play together and watch y/n while Mei makes the antidote" They all frown but reluctantly agreed

During those hours the miri, eri tamaki, and neijire, we're all trying to have their little time with you, Mirio was pretending to know what you said making dramatic fate expression making u giggle Tamaki had an I sea of watching cartoon together so you all watch your favorite cartoon as a child (Mines was baby estein) and somehow fall asleep then it was neijire turn she was putting you in all sorts of cute closes taking pictures for herself and the shrine she has did your hair in many cute hair styles with hair pins and bows and eri's idea was to play tea parties together

"I GOT THE ANTIDOTE" Mei yelled but was quickly shushed by the group because Mei saw you asleep in tamakis arms they took you to the lab and made you wear the helmet the machine Started to shake and your body started to grow back as your original self

"Y/n! Your back"

"wtf just happened.."

Safe to say mei explained to you what happened and at this point, you were just tired of them all "Remind me to never be a lab rat to Mei" "Hey I said they were no side effects" yea no BAD side effects "I still kept my promise!" "Don't be so dramatic you were so cute as a baby" Neijire ruffled your head mirio and neijire chimed in as well as eri "You all are not helping.."

#yandere ua #yandere bnha #tw yandere #yandere x reader #Yandere eri #bnha fluff #platonic yandere #Child yandere

[court-jobi]

Can I ask about two things? Blue Mando-Paz Feels and The Touch Barrier? Feel free to only answer one! This is @newpathwrites btw.

Hekk yeah I'll answer both, @newpathwrites!!! Let's goooo~

The Touch Barrier | Ver. 1 under the cut

Ah my lovely fic headcanons with no real name... The Google Doc I have my drabbles about Paz Viszla are on just a funny sheet called quite literally Blue Mando Paz Feels. We had so little Paz content at the time I began writing these in 2019, but when I tell you my mind went wild...

Big blue boi Mando had my heart from the get go, and I quickly envisioned a nameless little OC (that I have yet to get onto paper). I paired him with a gentle soul who has a heart bigger than her head, and shakes the moment a gun is put into her hands-- but I think that brand of softness may be just what he needed in this harsh lonely world Mandalorians are so used to. He's big, he's blue, and it's cuffing season.. all I gotta say on that.

Now that I've seen more of Viszla in Season 3 I HAVE NEW SOURCE MATERIAL MUAHAHAHA but (ach-hem) I really do think the newest episodes helped me figure out his 'voice' so I might pick these little stories back up!

//psst my favorite of these is one where oc/reader's helping him clean up after a yucky, muggy recon mission, seeing him scrub himself really hard and she fusses over how rough he's being-even with himself. I go into how to care for your beskar, some Din Djarin rivalry-ish backstory, and how SWEET Paz can be when he's treated gently... Perhaps I'll flesh this one out if there's interest?

But also... my beloved:

I answered a bit on my different directions on The Touch Barrier here... But I imagine you'll be most interested in the first iteration of it, so here's a snippet!!

"Are we ok?"

The helmet straightened up, fixed to you again from its nervous evasion. "What?"

"You look like a caged lothcat right now.." you shared, unable to hold back a smile. "And here I thought we were on hugging terms~"

Inside the beskar suit, Mando’s neck flared with heat. And before he could silence himself,

"..we are?"

You hummed noncommittally- betraying your whole-hearted desire.

"I hoped so. At least I thought we might be, based on how you boarded the other day. Unless you didn't necessarily want me there. After all, I know you were kinda having a hard time staying upright."

Only then did Mando's beskar curves slide more naturally into place. No longer bolted to the wall but angled catty corner to you. 

He recalled the 'hug' referenced, but he also remembered how he'd cupped your head to him after you'd brought him up to the cockpit-- that one was for comfort. Not stability.

"I was. But that's not why I .."

–but before he fully finished his train of thought, the baby in the hold let out a frustrated garble of calls as a rolling ball clinked out of his reach. Each plunk echoed down the rungs until it rolled off to parts unknown. You snorted, wondering what on earth he was getting into up there.

"Gosh, that little guy. Sorry, what were you saying?" you recentered from your distraction.

With a lag in his shoulders, the Mandalorian thought the truth to be the best answer. But still wanting to answer to the Child, he nodded his head on for you to continue down to the hull, and he'd follow,

"I was just going to say," he answered, "I didn't do that because I couldn't stand on my own. i-i mean I couldn't, true, but the thing is, I 'wanted to'..." 

His heart was thundering, some cracks in his words were audible,

"I was bleeding out all over the floor. But really, l I could think of was just how grateful I was that you hadn't been hurt. You were safe, and seeing you? I was relieved."

Now side by side in the open air cargo space you smiled, feeling a bit like the silly girls in the holonovels when they pushed their hair behind their ears.

"Well... For one, I'm glad you're not bleeding all over the floor."

That earned you a breathy laugh, "Thank you."

"And for two, I'm- glad you wanted to. Because I may or may not have been wanting to, myself.." 

Mando paused in his strides. which you matched. Even though you were unable to read his expression, you gave a satisfied little smile with your answer, 

"So… it sounds like we're on the same page."

"Sounds like we are."

The Child whined again, making both tip their head off to the side, perfectly in sync.

"I can go get him-- meet you back up top?"

"Okay." He nodded and they split.

Back in the cockpit, you wrangled the bouncing little potato sack. Mando turned when you came in, hearing you corral the kid trying to jump out of your arms to get a better view from his pram.

"Ok ok kiddo, good grief– your seat's but going anywhere!" You shrilled. Planted into his blankets, he sat back in content, swaying side to side, taking in the stars and clusters they were passing in awe.

"Handful?"

"More like tryin'a be a hand-empty, the little wiggle worm." you sassed. His playfighting was all in good fun.

The Mandalorian spun to meet you. First and foremost, you know he'd set the locks on the overhead panels on the side wall, but then he surprised you when he faced fully after you readjusted your clothes the kid had tugged every which way.

"You're good with him. He seems happy to have someone else around." He complimented, stepping into your space. 

Then- finally- meeting your sparkling eyes with all their silent anticipation of his arms, he wrapped around you to pull you in. You locked him in by the waist. 

Then, slightly softer, he nearly whispered, "and.. he's not the only one."

Smushed slightly into his flight suit padding above his chest plate, you smiled. The pats you gave him back passed assurance and as much comfort as you could manage in this relatively tiny hunk of metal in the vast black dust of space. 

"Feeling's mutual, hon."

Hope you liked it!! More of this may come one day...

...dangit.. now I wanna finish this. (le sigh)

#paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizsla x oc #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #paz viszla #din djarin #just a couple of armored bois who gotta fight it out #this is the way #my work #my headcanons #my masterlist #fanfic asks #ask game

[count-alucard-tepes]

Killer x fem Lunarian reader! Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

It took him a moment to understand what was being told to him.

“I’m pregnant, Kil”

He had to snap out of it, what did he think was going to happen with how intimate they were when they were together? It was obvious and Killer was not an irresponsible person, he always knew there was a consequence for all his actions.

He loved her…with all his heart, he had never felt this kind of love that was reciprocated before and now it resulted in them having a baby.

He pulled her close to him and nuzzled her lovingly, “…we’re having a baby”, he said gently with a smile, “…our baby”.

Y/N knew there was a lot going on in his head, she could see it written all over his face and it made her really nervous with each passing moment….until he finally spoke.

She smiled and buried her face into his chest before whimpering a little, “…yeah, our baby…”.

He didn’t know how this was going to work…he didn’t even care…all he knew was that he was going to make this work for his beloved and their child no matter the cost…he would protect them with his life.

“Everything will work out, pretty lady…now it’s all overwhelming but we will have everything ready before the baby arrives…I promise you that”, he said gently as he placed a kiss on her head as she whimpered into his chest.

They would sit on the beach for a couple of hours, just talking and reminiscing before he would take her to their room in a nearby inn and let her rest for a little while.

He’d go down to the bar where his crew was enjoying him and ordered himself a pint of beer, he was lost in thought the entire time.

“…if you stare at it anymore, it might turn into water”, his captain said as he took a seat next to him and motioned to the bartender to get him another beer.

Killer snapped out of it and drank some of his beer, “…nah…it’s still beer”, he said with a small smile.

Kidd looked at his friend a little curiously, “…we’re not at sea…your girl is here with us…we’re having a blast…so what’s your fucking problem?”.

Killer almost choked on his drink as he tried to contain his laughter and beat on his chest, “…well…we should talk, Kidd…it’s important”.

“We are fucking talking! Just spit it out!”, he huffed.

“…I’m gonna be a dad”, he said as he looked over at his friend and captain.

Kidd raised his brows in surprise, “No fucking way! You got her knocked up!?”, he said before chuckling.

Killer just glared at him through the holes of his mask before sighing and drinking his beer again.

Kidd finally stopped laughing and wiped a tear from his eye, “…oh man, Kil…you’ll be the best dad ever”.

He looked back at his friend, “…think so, Kidd? You know I never had a dad…we basically raised ourselves…I feel so many things right now, I don’t even know how to express it….I’m just trying to be supportive towards her…”.

“Alright, alright…I never said pour out your heart to me…you’re getting soft…you sure you not crying under there?”, he asked teasingly.

“…you’re so fucking lucky you’re my friend and captain or I’d kick your ass”, Killer huffed as he finished his beer and he stood up, “…I’m going to bed…”.

“Okay, dad…see you at breakfast”, he teased again as Killer just grumbled and headed off to his and Y/N’s room.

Y/N woke up when the door opened and rubbed her eyes, “…Kil…”, she said lazily as she stretched in their bed.

He smiled a little and slipped off his helmet and shirt before kicking off his shoes and pants, “…yeah it’s me, babe”, he said softly before slipping into bed with her and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her lovingly.

“I should have been with you downstairs but I was just so tired…”, she said softly as she cuddled into his chest.

“It’s alright, babe…you need to rest for you and the baby”, he said gently as he placed his hand on her stomach and gently rubbed before leaned down to kiss her belly.

Y/N smiled when he did this and ran her fingers through his hair, “…I hope they have your hair…”, she whispered as she watched him in the dimly lit room.

“…and I hope they look just like you…you’re so beautiful”, Killer said gently as he looked up at his beloved and smiled.

Y/N nuzzled his jaw lazily, "...we'll just have to wait and see".

He kissed her gently and nodded before relaxing with her on his chest, stroking her back slowly so that she could fall asleep easier.

_________________________________________

A few weeks later, Killer had been looking for a secluded island where he and Y/N could stay before and after she gave birth to the baby and found a safe one. He knew a doctor there thanks to previously interacting with the Mugiwara pirates, he asked Y/N to meet there so that they could see the doctor and potentially look for a home as well.

Upon reaching Spinx island. Killer waited at the waterfall like he was told to by the doctor, he wondered how far away Y/N was and looked up at the sky to see if he could spot her.

“…careful, you don’t want to miss step near a waterfall”, Marco would say as he appeared behind Killer and smiled as he pushed his glasses back.

Killer gasped and then scratched his mask, “Ah yeah, that would terrible…we’ve briefly met before in Wano…”, he said gently, “…I know you’re a good doctor and…”.

“…I know about your situation, Killer…Y/N has been writing and communicating with me often…”, Marco said with a smile.

Of course she was already talking to the doctor

He thought to himself and sighed softly as he would see his beloved fly down to meet them at the waterfall.

“…sorry I’m late…turbulence”, Y/N said with a smile before she went to Killer’s side and hugged him gently.

He was quick to hold her close and his hand instinctively going to her growing baby bump that was now pretty obvious but she still wore a loose shirt to mask it.

“You must be Marco…thank you for meeting with us”, she said gently.

Marco smiled in response, “…never thought I’d see a Lunarian in the flesh but here we are…it’s my pleasure…shall we head in?”.

Y/N looked at Killer and smiled before nodding.

They both would follow Marco inside to reveal the truth nature of the island.

“…its so beautiful ", Y/N said as she looked at the view and then smiled.

"Yeah it's pretty something alright...", Marco said with his hands on his hips as he too admired the beauty of the island, "...first, let's go have some tea and if you're comfortable, I can examine you to see how the baby is doing".

Killer looked at his beloved for her confirm that she was okay with it before heading down to Marco's surgery. He was pretty excited as he had never been present for her doctor's visits and it would be his first time to hear what the doctor would say about their baby.

"...does your crew know about the baby?", Marco asked curiously as he handed them some tea.

"No, I wouldn't be allowed on any missions if my commander knew...", Y/N said with a slight pout.

"...you're the risking the wellbeing of the baby by being that careless, Y/N...you are strong but you never know with an enemy what could happen...my suggestion is to leave completely or take a very long maternity leave...", Marco said calmly.

Killer frowned a little, he didn't want her out and about while being pregnant but she was so damn strong-willed!

"...I agree with Marco...its time, Y/N...we've been lucky so far...but we shouldn't be gambling with our child's life", Killer said gently.

"I am curious as to why you both just didn't have the baby on the Kidd pirate ship...why is that?", Marco asked out of curiosity as he had seen children be born and growing on the Mobydick.

"...I wanted to not be a nuisance to everyone while being pregnant and having a baby on board...that could just complicate things...I think it's better for our child to be born off a ship too", Y/N said gently.

Killer did want her to be on ship with him and the Kidd pirates but he could understand why she wasn’t comfortable. It was tough being second in command and then trying to please his beloved too especially during this delicate time.

Kidd was understanding and so were the crew, Killer was extremely grateful for this.

Marco looked at them both and nodded, “…I have a cottage that is almost finished not too far away but there still is privacy…it’s a simple design and more than enough to raise a child…you’re welcome to stay there for as long as you like”.

Y/N smiled and looked at Killer, “…what do you think, love?”.

“You’re the boss, pretty lady…”, Killer said gently as he finished his tea, as long as his kid and beloved were safe, that’s all that mattered to him.

“Then we will take your offer, Marco…we appreciate this so much!”, she said happily.

Marco chuckled in response, “…great, now if you’re ready…shall we check on the baby?”.

“Yes, we’re ready!”, Killer said excitedly before Y/N could even respond, earning a laugh from her.

He gently examined Y/N and took down several notes before doing an ultrasound for the baby, “…and there’s the little one…the heart beat is strong too”, he said gently.

At this point, Killer was already crying his eyes out under his helmet and squeezed Y/N’s hand tightly.

Marco gave them a scan of the baby and Y/N told Killer to keep it, “…you can show the crew and keep it in your quarters until we actually have photos of the baby…”, she said gently as she rubbed her belly.

“…yeah…they’ll be pretty excited”, he said gently as he helped her off the bed and gave her belly a kiss.

“…want to walk around for a bit, love? Need to stretch my legs”, she asked gently.

He nodded, “…thank you, Marco…we’ll see you in a bit”, he said as Marco smiled and nodded.

Y/N walked out with Killer at her side, looking around curiously, “…I’d imagine I would have to move here in a week or two…can’t hide my belly as well as I used to…it would be pretty nice to just set up the nursery”.

Killer beamed at the thought of setting up the nursery for the baby, “…I want to be involved in doing all of that like a real dad”.

“You are a real dad, Kil…”, she said with a little laugh.

“…you know what I mean…I just want to be there for all those special moments before and after the baby is born”, he said blushing a little.

“I know but I also know you’re second in command and you’ve got to be with your crew…we have to be realistic even before the baby comes…”, she said gently.

He sighed softly but nodded in agreement as much as he wanted to be the perfect dad…he was a pirate and life was not going to be simple or easy. He would try his best to make it all work one way or another. He did not want to an absent father or partner.

That made him think for a bit, “…do you want to get married before the baby comes?”, he asked out of curiosity.

Y/N looked thoughtful for a moment, “…I feel like we already are married, just signing a piece of paper makes no difference to me…you’re already my husband in my mind”.

He gulped at this but she was right! She was already like his wife in every way possible! Why didn’t he think about that soon!?

“…well…I still wanted you to have this”, he said gently as he pulled out a simple gold band and took her left hand before slipping the ring on.

She smiled a little at this gesture, “…had that for a while?”, she asked as she leaned down to kiss him.

“…from the moment you stole my heart”, he whispered into the kiss.

(Yay, baby Kil will be here in the next part! Oh man this is my favorite Fanfiction to write in forever!!!)

#ooc #one piece #killer one piece #kidd pirates #one piece killer #killer x reader #lunarian #fanfic

[orbdotexe]

They’ve been like this for a while now. The Guardian gets hurt, Ghost scolds them, and they feel guilty for burdening him; for dragging him down with them, and being why he can never go home. They won’t listen when he says they’re his home.

bonk bonk bonk. this is my apology for taking so long on... literally everything else. The Cayde short is actually done now, but wasn't at the time of me finishing this one (which has been done for a few days, I'm just. too lazy lmao) so someone bully me into posting Cayde Hug please

Anyway here is a nice Young Wolf and Ghost short! angst with a side of some beloved bickering <3 they are so stubborn but they are soulmates (platonic), your honor.

[ao3 link]

The statues, twice their size, are caught in poses of combat-ready or investigative, some having tried to run farther down the hall. The blizzard swells and dies out farther down the corridor, leaving the blanket of wisp-soft Void swirling around their steps as mist continues bleeding through the cracks in what was once a battalion of Cabal.

Their arm sways at their side, cold blood squeezing out of shrapnel wounds down the side of their body, the other hand tightly gripping Howl. Ghost materializes to their left, but they stumble forward, stepping towards the frosted over parts of their helmet. There’s a shard of a frag launch splitting down through the eye of it; the orange glow dead. 

They plant the tip of the sword on the ground to hold steady as they lower themself over their helmet, Ghost trilling worriedly behind them. The streams of blood begin to reheat, numbness leaving the limb in favor of a boiling pain, and they can feel the soothing chill of Ghost scanning their injuries. 

Shakily setting Howl down beside them, they move to pick up the tattered helmet, to be met with an irritated strumming through the Bond. “Guardian, at least hold still long enough for me to heal that arm before you make the bleeding worse,” Ghost sighs out. The Guardian only grumbles, before holding the arm out for a proper scan.

The movement itself makes them tense, resisting the urge to screw their eyes shut against the pins and needles and the accidental twisting of metal scraps still in some wounds. They hiss at the cold air, partially regretting the choice of Void as they all but pour heat out through the shredded armor and skin.

They trace the broken edges of their helmet with their spare hand, rather than watch Ghost knit the skin back together. The feeling of the metal shards being pushed out from the inside as the torn muscle pulls back together makes them nauseous. 

No matter how many times they’ve felt it, or woken up from a death to their insides still being patched together, or had to pull themself off of spikes for it to even happen—The nausea always comes back. The frustration of never getting used to something so common in their non-life always comes back.

“Guardian.” Their fingers are bleeding, cut on the broken metal. The edges of their vision swims in and out, and they're not sure if it’s blood loss or the hallucinations again. “Guardian? You’re doing it again.”

They blink, and lower the outstretched arm. The burning feels distant, and the skin is stiff with dried blood, but the wounds feel closed, and the repaired parts of their armor are thinner than the parts that hadn’t been damaged.

He sighs, more irritated—exhausted?—this time. “We’ll need to see Drifter again if we want to repair your armor properly. There’s only so much I can do.” It feels as if he’s scanning them, but the blue glow never comes. “Still with me?”

As a soothing pulse pushes through stiff barriers of Light, they feel some sense return to their body and their face soften. Turning their head away from Ghost, the Guardian gives a small nod. A part of them wants to cradle him; say they’re sorry for putting him through this. He should’ve had someone better. 

They settle instead for a soft rippling in the Light; the feeling of tucking a sleeping other’s hair away. He knows what they mean.

Ghost shoves his shell into the side of their head, making them lose the thought and duck away. “We’re not doing this again, Guardian! If the Traveler itself gave me a chance to pick someone else, you know I’d refuse every time.” His voice softens as he speaks, and he must have seen the small wince that crosses their face.

“I mean it, Guardian,” he chimes, firm but soft. Wholly faithful. “When I told you, through Light or Dark, I meant it. Even if it’s just you and me against the world, I wouldn’t change a thing so long as I had you.” 

They know Ghost means it; they’ve never doubted it—But that’s the problem. He deserves so much better than a monster for a partner. The crumbling, now barely recognizable statues of Stasis prove them, if not a monster, a force of chaos. Both unstoppable, and immovable. Even with the explosives and traps, there was never a chance. 

The shared turmoil strains the Bond with impressions of spirals, and Ghost lowers himself to hover just over their shoulder as they hold their other hand up for him. “Monster or not—and I’m not saying you are, but you never believe me—” He rambles, “You’re still my partner. My Guardian.” 

And he’s their Ghost. But it changes nothing. The blood is half dried, dripping sluggishly, as he closes the cuts in the pads of their fingers. They rub them together, the nerves still knitting together feeling like pins and needles. 

Nudging him with their shoulder draws a huff out of Ghost. “Yes, I’m done. But this conversation isn’t over.”

It’s their turn to sulk—The conversation is never over. Who’s the monster, who’s to blame, who should suffer: Ghost’s answer is always the same—They scoop the parts of their helmet up, moving it to one arm, before sheathing Howl on their back. 

They could clean it later. Ghost gives a puff of discontent.

As they stand, the sound of the last remnants of Stasis crackling out of existence drags their eyes up. The remaining wisps of Void smoke are quickly phasing out of the air, and they take a moment to watch the last evidence of their destruction crumble into nothing. Only the damage of weaponry to the building and their spilt blood remain.

“I’d say that’s progress, wouldn’t you?” Ghost murmurs, tone light, and they can’t help but give him a weird look. This quiet destruction– progress? They get a puff of indignity in exchange. “Well, I did get the data Drifter needed, so yes– But not what I’m talking about.” 

The look he gives them is… cheeky. They don’t like it. “What I meant was…” There’s an audible smile creeping into his voice—victoriously smug—as he bumps their head. “Youuu didn’t fight me on healing this time.”

Scars. He’s smug about the scars. 

They give a thin-lipped grimace at his priorities, and he just beams brighter. “It’s not much, but you don’t make personal progress very easy, Guardian.” They huff and turn away from him, walking down the hall to the back exit. 

Ghost rests his shell in the junction of their hood as they pull it back up, both of them knowing the Guardian will walk slower so he won’t fall out.

“I’ll take any win I can get with you,” he chimes to himself, quiet.

#destiny 2 #the forsaken exile #Howl is literally just The Young Wolf's Howl. just to be clear #also GOD they are so soft. Wolf pleeeease what do you MEAN ''the feeling of tucking a sleeping other's hair away'' #no i dont care that im the one who wrote it. absolutely insane about how much they care about each other #(sorry if the format is a bit clunky. it looks a lot better in docs and ao3--) #also also obsessed with The Bond between Guardians and Ghosts. literally the only thing i remember in canon about it #is Ghost talking about how far their bond has progressed but that he still cant read their thoughts #i love canon dearly. but im too unwell about the potential of Wolf using him as a translator lmao #it has much comedy potential. #but i also like treating the bond kind of like... the way psions are described as communicating #obsessed with that one loretab where a psion tells Misraaks their ''name'' and its a bunch of feelings... ough #so. here's my elaboration on my beloved Light Bond. even though the last Ghost snippet talked about it #but thats the bond from *his* POV. this time its Wolf!! love Wolf sm #(<incapable of shutting up about either of them)

[koostarcandy]

sweet thing

summary: a night where jungkook comes back to your sweet self, paired with long hugs and silencing kisses.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, there's nothing else you can expect here in star candy land ^^ slight mention of smut, should i mention jaykay has a bike here?

a/n: im putting out everything i can before i get busy again :// inspired by those eyes by new west :3 this is the same universe as the hold on couple but can be read as a stand-alone! oktybyeeee ilyyyyy <3!

sweetheart: found the bell peppers! we're making that pasta tonight 😤 see you tonight, love you ♡

jungkook re-reads your text, smiling wider each time. he shuts down his gadgets and grabs his helmet, rushing out so he could reach you faster. today was nothing short of long and draining, from half awake coffee making to zoning out at the big computer screen, it was all equally taxing, a routine he was slowly losing himself to.

he impatiently waits at a red light, looking out at pedestrians waddling on the rain soaked road infront of him. he sees worried mothers running after hyperactive children, teenagers sharing earphones and vibing, the elderly holding each other's hands to make sure they cross the road safely. these small things make him believe there's still hope in this world but his biggest reason for persisting will always be you.

you, with your fond smile and shimmery eyes when you see him at the end of a day.

with you all but jumping on him, trusting him to catch you. you try to hold him impossibly closer, landing kisses on every bit of skin of showing. you over him, bare chest to bare chest, heaving in breathlessness, stroking his tattoos and kissing your favourite ones. he gets ticklish when you do that, so you make it a point to kiss him all over, down to his fingers with boxing bruises. you sit up, scold him lightly for being too hard on his poor hands but sending him a proud gaze for progressing in his hobby.

jungkook plays his favourite memories of you in his head over like a broken record. times of you getting drunk and giggly over a bottle of peach soju and dragging him to every karaoke bar in sight. or when you made spicy cheese tteokbokki for 2 weeks straight, amazed that you never got bored of it. it could even be you snuggled into him at the crack of daylight, arms wrapping around him like the prettiest vines. you always press kisses on his chest, hands intertwining with his.

when he misses you deeply, like now, you are the only thing, the sweetest and most precious thing, on his mind.

"wow, immersion blenders are pretty fucking cool, huh?"

jungkook chuckles into your neck at your child-like enthusiasm, strong arms wrapping around you even tighter. the smell of roasted peppers, garlic and tomatoes are all over in your kitchen and the most distinct one in his sensitive nose, is you. his favourite jasmine lulls him into a sense of calm, ears tuned to your mid-cooking commentary and occasional humming.

"are we done yet? i wanna eat and sleep and watch wednesday with you," jungkook whines for the nth time into your neck, suddenly feeling the full effects of yesterday's leg day. you turn and kiss him, effectively shutting him up. your hands settle on the back of his neck, playing with the nape of his hair. he steadies himself with his hands on your hips, recognizing your foolproof tactic of keeping him quiet.

"patience, my dearest," you smile into his lips, "good things come to those who wait, you know that better than anyone else, koo."

"this pasta better be really freaking good, sweetheart."

"oh my god, this is the best thing that has ever been in my mouth."

"ugh, stop moaning, koo, your cute lil eyebrows are more than enough and are you sure about that? it's high praise."

"oh, my bad. you'll always be the number one when it comes to-"

"shut up and eat, there's a child here!"

jungkook laughs his elmo laugh, eyes immediately shifting to his beloved doberman. said child is half asleep, tired from playing around with his appa. your pink cheeks are full from the pasta you've made, your eyes becoming happy crescents when it falls on him. he keeps his empty plate aside, scooting closer to you. you take the hint and keep everything aside, sipping your soju-yakult-soda drink for a palate cleanse.

"oh, my big baby," you coo, cupping jungkook's cheeks and rubbing the apples of them. you place kisses on his head, recognizing your favourite vanilla shampoo on him. he curls into you, burying his face in your neck. you wrap him up with the fluffy blanket you've kept on the sofa for nights like these.

bunched up and tensed shoulders finally go down, breathing becoming even and scrunched forehead smoothing over. the jaunty music from the show you're both watching fade into the background, holding your lover as close as possible.

you love the fact that you're one of the first people in jungkook's mind to turn to for comfort because you'd give it to him anytime and any day. this is one of your favourite parts of your late nights together, wrapped in each other and drifting to dreamland and mind full of sweet things.

pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook #bts fluff #bts x reader

[squirreltastrophe]

SO I WROTE A SILLY SHORT STORY HEHE!!!! :3

OK SO UHHHH. REALLY NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS BUT I GOTTA WORK ON PUTTING STUFF I MAKE OUT THERE SO!!!!

I wrote this little short story for a class and it;s silly and I kinda like how it came out so I went "hmm why don't I post it!" it's about my silly ocs that I post about a lot :3. oh also it has illustrations! oh and disclaimer I'm not the greatest writer ever I just like to get silly with it. I have fun :D.

BUT UH anyway I'm proctrastingating now oops story time

 Even the most mundane tasks are so different when you’re dead. Jinny knew this all too well. Sometimes it was convenient; no more need for doors when you can phase through walls! But other times, being dead was extremely lonely. Like when 99% of the human race can’t see (let alone understand) your ghostly form.

But Jinny would never in a million years admit she was “lonely”. How could she be lonely when she had such awesome living friends? Jinny thought about her best friends, Ophelia and Albert, a lot. The three of them were always acting on Jinny’s stupidest ideas and going on adventures. Or, more accurately, Jinny and Ophelia would act on an adventure and drag a begrudging Albert along.

The awesome friendship adventure plan today was to take Albert’s beloved bike to the largest hill they could find and ride down it without using the breaks. At all! When Jinny brought this idea up with her friends, Ophelia had enthusiastically volunteered to be the one on the bike. This was surprising, given how Ophelia had the courage and mind of a field mouse. Jinny figured she was trying to prove something to herself. She tended to do that sort of thing.

Jinny fidgeted with her hair in excitement. Sure she wasn’t actually the one riding the bike, it’d take her too much energy to not phase through the dang thing, but as long as Jinny’s friends were having fun, so was she!

After a walk through the winding streets of suburbia, the three friends arrived at a large hill. Jinny could see Ophelia tense up as they walked to the crest.

“What’s wrong?” Jinny asked, her voice startling Ophelia a bit.

“Uh, I’m fine.” Ophelia replied. “Just a bit nervous. Are you sure I can ride a bike down this hill without breaking my neck?”

“I’m sure whatever happens, it’ll turn out fine. And if you did break your neck, we could be ghost buddies! Pal-tergiests!” Jinny said. Her favorite coping strategy was bad death-related puns. Despite the eyeroll, Jinny could see Ophelia smile a little and relax her shoulders.

The helmet Ophelia was wearing (at Albert’s insistence) cast a shadow over her face, making it sorta hard to see her expressions, but that wasn’t the biggest issue. Jinny could read Ophelia very well— Which made sense, given that Jinny’d known Ophelia for pretty much her entire afterlife! They’d grown up together in the Underworld because of Ophelia’ unique kidnapped-by-demons-when-she-was-a-baby situation. Jinny and Ophelia had run away and come up to the living world for the first time recently. Ophelia’d been positively giddy with all the new creatures and plants they’d found. Before she could zone out even more, Jinny was pulled out of her thoughts by Albert’s reedy voice.

“I still think this seems like a horrible idea.” He said. Albert had a way of doubting Jinny’s plans, though she didn’t see why.

“Even if my impeccable idea ends badly, at least we got to see this view!” Jinny chimed.

The breeze had a tinge of Autumn sweetness to it. The steep hill they were on overlooked the small forest-surrounded town. Jinny could see tiny people and cars on the streets, all living their lives. The town reminded her of an ant colony, always moving and changing. 

The Underworld wasn’t like that. Sure, it was full of activity, but ghosts or imps didn’t change in the same way actual living people did. The bustle up here felt… different.

Jinny shook her melancholy away and turned to Ophelia, who was climbing on the bike now. 

“Are you ready?” Jinny asked, grinning. Ophelia nodded, her lips pursed together. On the count of three, Albert and Jinny pushed the bike with a heave! Ophelia bolted forward, letting out a squeak. Jinny watched as Ophelia barreled down the hill, the bike bouncing every which way.

“This was probably a terrible idea, huh?” Jinny said.

“Definitely.”

As if on cue, the bike crashed into a crag on the hill and Ophelia flew over the rock like a candy wrapper. Jinny yelped and sped down the hill after Albert. 

Ophelia sat at the bottom of the hill, holding a scraped knee, tears rolling down her face. Jinny felt a pit of guilt form in her stomach. She floated next to Ophelia, asking her if she was okay. Ophelia shook her head and blubbered in the same manner as a sopping wet cat. Without speaking, Albert whipped a small first aid kit out of his backpack and started to put some sort of ointment on Ophelia’s nasty-looking cut. 

How the heck is he prepared for everything? What does he keep in that backpack? Jinny thought. One time, Ophelia had needed something to dig with, and Albert offered an egg beater he’d had on hand. Not a hand shovel. An egg beater. It also seemed that Albert had a never-ending library of his favorite comics in his backpack. Jinny thought about Albert more than what was considered normal. Or completely platonic. But Jinny was getting lost in her thoughts again. 

Ophelia was still sniffling when Albert pulled her to her feet. They were all in agreement that Ophelia should never get on a bike again. And that they should all go home.

That night, the house was still and quiet. Too still and quiet. The house felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for everyone to come back to life in the morning. 

Jinny laid on the living room floor, turning the events of the day around in her head. Jinny hated silence. It unsettled her. The quiet drone of the tv— still on even though Ophelia was asleep on the couch— mingled with her self-deprecating thoughts.

I shouldn’t have even made Ophelia get on that stupid bike, Jinny thought. She got hurt because of me. Jinny’s thoughts continued to spiral like this until she realized she kept coming back to one thing: Ophelia bled when she scraped her knee. Jinny couldn’t do that.

Sure, it was trivial to mull over the fact that Jinny couldn’t bleed, being a ghost and all, but this fact just felt like yet another barrier between Jinny and her friends. Another piece of evidence that Jinny was only a paranormal puppet, pretending to be like everyone else. Jinny smiled as she came up with yet another immaculate idea. 

I can make myself like them.

 -   -   -

As soon as Jinny saw the morning light stream through the window, she popped up and started to poke Ophelia awake. 

“Rise and shine!” Jinny said in a sing-songy, overly-peppy tone. Ophelia simply responded with a series of grumbles and rolled over. Jinny shrugged off Ophelia’s less-than-friendly greeting. “I’m gonna go out! Be back soon!” 

Jinny had originally planned to bring her friends on her people watching/mimicking mission too; that was, until she realized they’d probably question why she was taking notes on everyone she saw. It’d be better for everyone if Jinny did this particular activity alone.

Jinny bounced out the front door, notepad in hand. She’d already planned out her entire day, from the places she’d go to the weather she’d expect (lacking the ability to sleep well will do that to you). The main place Jinny had planned to go to was the local park. She floated down the street in that direction, passing through the occasional person. 

Jinny arrived at the playground as the sun was approaching its climax. The park was very nice today! The forest encircling the park had a rusty fall time hue. People chattered and wandered like absent-minded mice. Jinny found a bench under a shaded tree and sat. Her leg bounced up and down as she forced herself to focus on the people passing by. 

She noticed a woman in a blue coat, leading an eager child to the swingset. She observed the way the sun’s rays bounced off of the fleshy faces surrounding her. She took note of how the people mingled with each other. How they all seemed to effortlessly fit together.

Jinny heard a mischievous laugh from behind her and whipped around. She saw a group of three older kids, plotting together. 

“We can’t explore the forest now! My sister’s still watching!” The smallest of them squeaked. 

“Oh c’mon! We won’t ever get a chance if we keep stalling! It’s not like she’s paying attention anyway.” The third child ignored the first two, simply reading a book off to the side. 

These kids striked Jinny as eerily like her friends. She wished they were with her right now. As the group ran into the forest, Jinny felt inclined to follow. It wasn’t too creepy if she was looking out for them, right?

Jinny followed the kids through clearings and thickets, dandelions and thistles. The forest was teeming with life and sound. Birds sang disjointed songs, creatures skittered everywhere, and ferns swayed with the gentle breeze. Jinny knew the kids couldn’t see her, but she found herself occasionally hiding behind  trees anyway. I guess I’m more tense than I thought. Every once in a while, Jinny smiled or giggled to herself when the kids would start bantering with each other.

Jinny found herself distracted by the canopy above her as she floated along. There wasn’t a sun in the Underworld (obviously), so Jinny was endlessly fascinated with how the sunlight danced through different things. Ophelia actually helped her notice this— Ophelia was always realizing little beautiful things around her.

Just as Jinny pulled her thoughts back to reality, she noticed that the quietest of the children was staring straight at her. Or, more accurately, through her. 

“Have you guys been hearing that?” The small girl squeaked, turning around to face her friends. “That rustling sound behind us.”

Jinny looked down and realized she had walked right into the middle of a bush while she was lost in her thoughts. Of course the kids could hear her now!

“Now that you mention it, I’ve been hearing it too.” The adventurous one replied.

Jinny felt an alarm begin to blare in her head. It’d be extremely embarrassing if she was caught by  5th graders! And it’d be even more embarrassing if she had to admit she’d been taking notes on socialization from these 5th graders!

Jinny bolted away from the little adventurers. She knew she was causing a ruckus, but at this point she couldn’t care less.

-   -   -

Jinny phased through the front door, walking in on Ophelia and Albert playing a video game. Ophelia was losing repeatedly, as usual. Jinny felt the shame and embarrassment set in as she approached her friends. She’d definitely have to tell them what she’d been up to now. And Jinny hated talking about stupid sappy emotions!

Albert greeted Jinny as Ophelia threw down her controller in frustration. 

“What the heck have you been up to all day?” He asked with a chuckle. Jinny’s face got uncomfortably warm. With a sigh, she plopped herself down between her friends. No way she could get out of explaining herself now.

“I… I was observing living people because I thought I could be more like you guys.” Jinny fiddled with her fingers. “I know it’s stupid and it wouldn’t work anyway but-”

“What? Why would you do that?” Ophelia asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

“I dunno!”

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out so blunt. I was just wondering why you’d do something like that when you’re so awesome already!” Ophelia continued. Jinny further shrinked into herself with the praise.

“I, for one, think being a ghost is cool and sick and tubular.” Albert said. “Tubular” was an… odd choice of words. But the meaning came across the same.

Jinny smiled a little. Now she just felt silly for worrying so much before. Jinny felt love swell up inside her and pulled her friends in for a hug. She thought back on the experiences she’d had with her pals: watching ice cream drip onto the sidewalk, laughing through badly made rom coms, attempting to befriend stray cats. Jinny realized how warm she felt right now. Not temperature wise (Jinny wasn’t even sure she could feel temperature), but warm in an emotional way. 

Jinny had been too wrapped up in mimicry and expectations to realize who she was. But she knew when she found herself, her friends would be waiting with open arms and unending warmth.

YIPEE YAHOO THATS IT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THAT A LIL BIT :3 this is one of the first writing things I've finished in a hot minute so it's very close to my heart!!!! writing is so silly I wanna get better at it hehe

#squirrel scrawls #<- writing tag in case I post my writing more :3 #be nice to me please I am a snivelling pathetic forest creature with an anxiety disorder #ocs #Jinny #Albert #Ophelia #tombmates

[mathiwrites]

courting the apocalypse // acotar x pacrim - chapter 3

Read on AO3.

chapter 3 - pan-pacific dead corpse program

Everything the PPDC touches dies.

Whether it’s their beloved rangers or the continents they’re sworn to guard, it’s only a matter of time—it’s only a matter of how. Either you die on the ground, crushed, burned or a thousand other helpless ways (and none of them of your choosing), or you die in Jaeger pretending that you had a semblance of control.

Feyre wants nothing to do with them, so she struggles against her bonds the entire way. She glares at her captors, debating how severe her punishment will be if she spat on one of them. She starts to hack up some spittle, glaring at that shining PPDC badge. It’s her target and she rarely misses.

The truck pulls to a halt before she can do anything, and she’s herded out of it with a graceless shove.

“Don’t touch me!” She snarls, but the soldiers are larger than she is, and she needs to tip her head upwards to meet his eyes. Not very effective when it comes to making an impact.

“Move,” the man counters.

“Hey! Hey, cool it, Okoro,” another PPDC officer holds his hand out to calm her guard. Feyre recognizes his clothes as a pilot’s jumpsuit. His silver hair is tied behind his head in a messy bun, half-squished from a helmet’s embrace. “She’s with me. Can you get the zipties off her? C’mon, those suck.”

When she’s freed, he seems to forget about the others and focuses on her.

“My name’s Andras. Please don’t run, all my friends are watching,” he pleads, apparently trying to make a joke. He holds his hand out to her, and Feyre stares at it. She has no interest in making friends with a PPDC crony.

“This looks a lot worse than it is. You’re really talented, and well, we need your help.”

“Too bad. How the hell do I get out of here?” Feyre has no interest in the kind facade. Anything to get her ass in a Jaeger, right?

Her answer comes in the form of large hanger doors thundering open. A small company approaches her, each person in uniform. On their shoulders and their lapels, a littring of badges gleam at her. Beside the obvious Vice-Marshall, Feyre’s gaze lands on a familiar face, and she openly rolls her eyes.

Great, just great.

“Miss Feyre Archeron,” greets Vice-Marshall Eris Vanserra. His smile is far too cunning and conniving for a government peon. He’d look better off as a Kaiju profiteer, the kind who uses real gold to furnish his Kaiju bunker. Then again, that’s the name of this game isn’t? The Pan-Pacific Defense Corps gives anyone a chance to be a hero, as long as they can pilot a jaeger.

Feyre says nothing, glaring at the woman beside him.

“Hello, sister. It’s about time you came around,” Nesta Archeron smiles at her youngest sister. It has been years since the two of them last saw one another; she’s a spitting image of Feyre, but the features of her face more refined and mature. Prettier, too, but in a severe way.

Feyre has always thought of herself as the ugly duckling in the family.

“Fuck you,” she snarls, but it does nothing to deter her sister or the Vice-Marshall. The red-haired commander simply cocks a slender brow in her direction.

What is up with these people, Feyre remarks bitterly. They look more like models than they do soldiers.

“As you know, it’s illegal to commandeer a Jaeger against PPDC sanction. I’ll save you the details of the law,” Vice-Marshall Vanserra waves his hand, uninterested in his own duty. “You have two options. You can serve your sentence at the wall—”

“The wall isn’t going to work.” It escapes her before she can help herself. Feyre has lived by the wall at her father’s decree. He thought it would be safe, but they couldn’t afford to live inland. The two of them have been struggling near the shore, where animals no longer tread, and where the Wall has yet to be completed. The safest places are the most expensive. With just the two of them, and his injury, Feyre has no choice but to take care of them. She refuses to spend the rest of her life fighting for a lost cause.

Vanserra laughs. “Or your can join our Academy. We need more rangers every day, and as you know, not anyone is deserving of the role. Major Archeron has created an expedited curriculum for you.”

“You left,” Feyre accuses. A lot of information is being thrown in her direction, so she latches onto the loudest thoughts in her mind, and the strongest emotions.

“What did you want me to do? Mother died. I wasn’t going to wait around for my turn.” So, she chose to fight.

“You abandoned us.”

“No, father did and you could have followed once you came of age, but you chose to stay. Actions and consequences,” she says smoothly.

Nesta’s unbothered expression makes Feyre angrier. It’s like she didn’t matter to her sister, as if she didn’t care what happened to her or their father—whether they starved or died, it’s no matter to Nesta because she got out.

“Feyre will be joining the PPDC program,” the Major tells her Vice-Marshall.

“The hell I am!”

“You’d rather the wall? Come on, Feyre. I saw the footage. You really don’t want to do that again? It’s in your blood. Nothing else will give you a high like that. Being in a Jaeger is standing on top of the world.” Nesta hands her a manila folder. “Obviously, you could use some improvement. Here are my notes. I can turn you into the best Jaeger pilot that’s come out of the Academy since the program’s inception.” The confidence radiating from her is palpable.

Nesta glances at Vice-Marshall Vanserra, catching the look he gives her.

“You don’t have much of a choice, Feyre. Come on, I’ll give you a tour. If you still hate it, you’re free to leave.” Nesta waits for no one, turning on her heel, and the small crowd of officers parts for her.

It takes a long moment to decide, but in the end, Feyre decides to take a chance on this insane idea. She jogs after Nesta through the massive hangar doors, and the first thing she notices are the hundreds of eyes on her.

I’ve made a mistake.

#im lazy to do my graphics today #pacific rim au #pacific rim #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #feyre archeron #eris vanserra #nesta archeron #my fics #acotar #acotar fic