#hes mad because the man had the audacity to pass a death sentence to a child.

[tobiasdrake]

And speaking of this scene being a mess, we come to... I want to call it the worst thing in No Way Home but there's actually something just as bad coming down the pipe much later, and it's hard to decide which is the bigger black mark on the film.

Yeah, that's right. It's time to talk about Aunt May's fridging. May dies to prove how much of a Very Serious Bad Guy the Green Goblin is. So much manlier and bad guyier than those other villains in those other movies!

But she doesn't die just for that. Her death is more insidious than that. See. There's this Fix Fic quality to her death that drives me up the wall.

See. People had, at this point, been complaining for years about Uncle Ben. The MCU movies decided not to rehash Ben's death. They didn't think we needed to see him bleed out from a gunshot and say The Words for a third time, so they skipped over it.

The reasonable takeaway from here is that Uncle Ben was a person who existed, and he did die, and he did say The Words, and the movie just didn't think we needed to see Ben die over and over and over again in every single piece of Spider-Man media. But that's not what happened.

Civil War had Peter sit with Tony and talk about his motive, and he didn't say The Words. They had him say a different thing. And the fandom has never forgiven the MCU for the audacity of using different words. It's the BIGGEST CONTROVERSY IN SPIDER-HISTORY.

I mean. Not really. The biggest controversy in Spider-history is the comic that this film's an adaptation of, ironically enough. But the point is, people have been mad for so long. Because we didn't see Ben die, and didn't hear him say The Words.

So here we are. Moments before passing away from her injuries, Aunt May fills Ben's spot. We get to watch her die, and she says The Words. It's fixed! Spider-Man is no longer ruined forever! Because someone died and they said The Words, and that's all Spider-Man is!

And this? This infuriates me. It infuriates me that they took a torch to an entire character because they were mad about how a sentence was phrased. Tore down a significant supporting character and guiding influence in Spider-Man's life, because a line of dialogue in a Captain America movie was written differently than they wanted.

May is dead now because someone decided that nine words of spoken dialogue are more valuable to the Spider-Man mythos than Aunt May's entire existence. And because they couldn't think of any better way to make the Green Goblin look scary.

#marvel #marvel cinematic universe #spider-man #spider-man: no way home #may parker #peter parker #norman osborn #green goblin

[brassbounded]

Soldiers keep marching on.

One fight and right onto another. He’s so tired. Was he complicit when the fingers of his masters dug deep into his brain. Leaving their imprint on him like they know if they do not so now. The golden opportunity would slip from their fingers before he would be put back into storage. A flicker of pride, something human and yet not human as he soak up the praise like a job well down. He was...so very tired. When one of his handler ushered him to get up and fight a man who was also enhanced. Part of him, the deepest part of him wondered if he would be finally be granted rest... a bullet between the eyes, put down a weary hound not from a sudden onslaught of madness but tired of its own continued existence. He’s not sure if his earlier years, HYDRA kept putting him onto the chair when he fought tooth and nail to escape their clutches. It was ...all a blur. Even when his old masters fell, and was given a freedom he had not tasted in years. Finally, but confused. Without a lead or an identity, least was until he remember that man on the bridge. He would wake from the horrid nightmares, drenched in blood, unfeeling, a blank and defeated gaze stared back at him.

Shock, as he stared at the brunt out cinders of wires, smoke and the cooked flesh of what used to be his arm for nearly seventy years. He kept fighting, for what reason? This is what he wanted for awhile? An excuse to fade, to finally get some rest he was forgo from being a prisoner of war. Perhaps dying in a bunker where he was kept and woken up was the last place he wanted to haunt if he were to close his eyes and never wake. Or maybe he did not want someone else be responsible for his death, to carry that burden like he had for nearly seventy years was something he did not want another to have. Reason, it was never noble, he only fought for his survival. When it all comes down to it, he was above all human. Too human.

Peace, then he was called out for stating such a thing. As if he had the audacity to say that. Indignant, sure that was an emotion he felt. A denial as if he had already failed some test he was suppose to pass so easily.

There’s not much in there he could tell. It was a leap from living in the Depression to the 22nd century where there are many technological advances today and research that now is just as accessible as a click of a button. He himself is one of them, a medical and mechanical marvel. Yet, he never asked for it. Never asked for anything. Then again, he never know what he wanted. He gone through the motion, what was expected of him hoping maybe he would find it. A purpose.

He gone too far to just give his captors the satisfaction of him losing because he couldn’t remember where he lives. On good days, he would use what money he has or joy he still feel. Every time the day ends like that he would swear and curse like a sailor in the docks. Telling his ghosts that he is going to have fucking ice cream for dinner and nothing is going to stop him. Least, he is above thankful of the serum of taking care of the possibility of a stomach ache.

Other...kind of days. He wouldn’t be able to muster the energy nor motivation to get up from the floor. He would lose himself, to the sensations of the ambiance of Brooklyn outside his apartment. He would feel the tremble of the floor where he is sure someone moving in their furniture. It would be night finally falls where the ex-assassin would get off the floor and slip into his shoes and walk outside his apartment. He would go one and wander aimlessly not pausing until he was able to resurface and find himself on the other side of town. Who was he again? Why does it feel like he’s waiting for something...someone? The shadow would return to his apartment only to find his landlord had scold him again for not locking the door and wondering if he had forgotten to close the window too because it’s absolutely fre--

“Sorry I’ll...be careful nex--” Before he can finish his sentence, his landlord which he is sure is more or less fed up with him turned away with a huff and retreated to his apartment after handing him a new set of keys to the lock. He wouldn’t be surprised if not for the paychecks were being paid on time the landlord wouldn’t give him a time of day. Maybe kick him out. He sighs and went back to his quiet apartment, other than the ringing and buzzing noise he’s sure is only coming from his head.

He is so very tired...

#muse: j.barnes;; #writing prompt;;

[aldoodles]

Really rough doodles- but I imagine it wouldn’t go over so well with Serizawa the first time Roshuuto decides to show his face in the Spirits and Such office again 

#reigen manga #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #roshuuto douzen #my art #al chatters #dudes idk im sorry this is so sketchy but i dont feel like cleaning it up and its been sitting around for like a week #seri doesnt care about the concussion he got #he's taken his share of hits from people with bad intentions #hes mad because the man had the audacity to pass a death sentence to a child. #and that it almost ended up killing reigen #reigen's just trying to maintain the cool and 'ive dealt with worse hahaha' kind of businessy shell but then he's gotta tell seri to tap #the breaks a little before they end up having to pay a contractor to fix the hole that roshuutos head made in the ceiling #also i just realized that Reigen has dealt with so many reformed bad-guys that his reaction to seeing them (in my mind) is just like: #'oh have you calmed down now ? decided to stop being a little baby now? is that what we're doing? ' #(so sorry for the sketch quality yall) #these men are really hard to draw #serirei

[demerso3]

Regarding Vehicles, Pedestrians, and the “Right of Way”

Last Monday, I was sitting in the front passenger seat of a car at a Chick-Fil-A parking lot in Kentucky.  The vehicle was parked facing towards a busy road, such that I could see passing traffic.  Both the Chick-Fil-A parking lot and road were located at an intersection.  The road had no sidewalks running alongside it, nor did the road contain a bike lane or anything like that.  There was, however, a strip of grass available to walk on.  Despite the lack of safety nets for pedestrians, two people (a man and a woman, who I presume to be a couple, and will discuss later on) were walking directly in the road, on the Chick-Fil-A side, at what could not even be described as a brisk pace.  

Most vehicles continuing through the intersection and down the road were very accommodating towards these two individuals.  Almost everyone slowed down, and some even moved out of the way as best they could.  Mind you, traffic was travelling down both sides of the road, so some cars couldn’t give too much space to the pedestrians without possibly crashing into vehicles travelling in the opposite direction.  Although the pedestrians were putting themselves in an unnecessarily dangerous situation, traffic was willing to compromise with the decision these pedestrians had made.  

One vehicle, however (a red truck driven by a man of approximately the same age as the pedestrians) slowed down, honked, and glared at the walkers.  He raised one arm up as he drove by the pedestrians, as if to ask, “what the hell are you doing?”  

Of course, the pedestrians could not have this.  The male pedestrian flipped the driver off as he accelerated away, while the woman cried, “asshole!”  The man embraced the woman, grabbing her lower back and pulling her in, letting the woman know that he was there to protect her.  This is entirely ironic, considering not letting your girlfriend walk in the street would have been better protection.    

It is difficult for me to articulate the frustration I have not so much for their decision to walk in the road, but for their audacity in getting mad at the driver of the truck.  And I’ve seen similar situations throughout my life, in various parts of the United States and abroad.

One could justifiably argue that roads need to be more pedestrian-friendly.  However, such an argument is independent from the empirical fact that the road in question (and many like it) aren’t.  Given that, it is best to avoid walking near busy roads without sidewalks whenever possible.  If impossible, stick to the side of the road and watch vigorously for traffic - but certainly, never walk in a busy street as if you own the place.  And yet, that’s exactly what this couple decided to do.    

The lack of self-awareness, frankly, is astonishing.  If anything, the driver should have been saying that the pedestrians were the buttholes, not only for slowing down traffic, but for disregarding their personal safety, as well as the safety of those around them.  People seem to forget that automobiles are not self-aware machines capable of making precise, life-saving decisions on a whim (at least, not yet).  Cars, trucks, SUV’s, etc. are all operated by humans, who are imperfect creatures, and have bad judgment at times.  Moreover, people also appear to forget that automobiles weigh multiple tons, and can travel in excess of 100mph.  In other words, things can go south quickly for both a driver and pedestrian, even when defensive driving practices are utilized.    

This leads me to my next point, in that people too often use their “right of way” as an excuse to let their guard down in the face of danger.  In the aforementioned example, the pedestrians had no right of way - that is, they had no legal ground for being in the street; no recognized process or “rule of the road” to abide by.  Therefore, their behavior can be considered particularly egregious.  However, even when pedestrians are completely in the right, they can still be dumb.  

Put simply, one cannot argue his “right of way” when dead.  This is why it always puts me on edge when a friend begins to cross the street before a car begins to slow down, or when somebody is confident the driver of a vehicle knows what they’re doing.  In the past, when a good friend or relative has almost been hit by a car despite having the right of way, they act surprised.  “Hey, he can’t do that!”  Well, the car can, and did, because of its size, in conjunction with the (hopefully momentary) stupidity of the driver.  Why would anyone trust that the driver of a vehicle is going to make all the right decisions?       

We have yet to address the possibility of impaired drivers, perhaps the #1 reason to take one’s “right of way” with a grain of salt.  On a personal note, during my senior year of high school, my cross country coach died in an auto-pedestrian accident.  The driver was drunk, and is currently serving an 18 year prison sentence for the crime.  Initially, I was reluctant to include this detail here, as the context for the accident was vastly different from the anecdote described at the beginning of this blog post.  Nonetheless, I think it serves to show the inherent danger of a world where pedestrians and vehicles coexist.  Despite the tragic events surrounding my coach’s death, alongside many others like his, many people, in my estimation, do not take moving vehicles seriously enough.  It is the classic “that will never/can never happen to me,” until it does.    

Regardless, if you’re a driver, look out for pedestrians.  If you’re a pedestrian, look out for cars, and never walk/stand in the street where cars are passing by.  Be smart, not selfish, about the way you conduct yourself near streets.               

#pedestrian #roads #traffic #driving

[howlnikiforov]

Trespass

Chapter Twenty-One: Blue Moon

Pairing: Hyungwon x Reader

Word Count: 2236

Summary: You would think that one would be able to trust their soulmate, be able to love them unconditionally, and know them better than yourself. But that isn’t always the case. Who was H.One, and why did the universe think you could be soulmates?

WARNINGS: Abuse/torture, swearing, mentions of dying

Trespass Masterlist

Hyungwon’s been on edge ever since he could only see black and white. The colors have come back since then, so he knew you weren’t dead. But with every passing day the colors became darker, more dull, and he was in constant pain. The throbbing never stopped, it only grew exponentially worse.

He had a lead, finally. It only took three months, but Changkyun was able to locate where Youngjae sent all those texts to you. He and a band of fifteen people were on the way there. Maybe they could find something more. It was unlikely they’d find you, but if they found another lead they’d be one step closer.

The men they had captured wouldn’t talk, and when they did, they had no idea what they were saying. Most were driven mad and killed, completely useless to the cause. It came as no surprise really, because these were men who had been captured before the kidnapping took place. YG stopped trying to stir trouble the day he took you.

Jooheon’s men weren’t very successful either. It was like he said, they all died. It didn’t take long for them to be caught, something to be expected from amateurs desperate for money. The money loss wasn’t a big deal because Jooheon got most of it back within a week after their death. It was interesting, their deaths. YG had the audacity to send their bodies back with a note. It was always something like ‘Quit trying to stir trouble’ or ‘Look how bad your men are’ and ‘I don’t have what you think I have.’ It was all bullshit.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a normal house in a normal  neighborhood. It seemed too innocent for the sins that were committed.

The three vans carrying everyone stopped in front of the house, and everyone piled out onto the street. It was the dead of night, and since no one was awake to see them, they didn’t care how messy they currently were. The only thing they might have had trouble with was the CCTV, but Changkyun would take care of that.

Hyungwon led the group, wasting no time in picking the lock of the front door. Once it was open, he signalled for half the men to stay with him, while the other half follow Shownu to the back.

He entered the house, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He was disappointed it was so normal. There had to be a basement, or an attic, or a secret room that had something in it. Two of his men began rummaging through the living room, while another went to let in the other half. He took the remaining three upstairs, letting them branch off into separate rooms.

He was just entering the master bedroom when Changkyun spoke in his earpiece, “Boss we’ve got trouble. The NIS is coming down the street.”

“Fuck,” Hyungwon cursed, immediately leaving the room. “It doesn’t happen to be our guys, does it?” He asked, hoping that on the off chance it was. He rounded up his men, getting them all to gather in the living room.

“No. It’s Red Rose’s dad.” Changkyun mumbled.

Hyungwon was about to lead them out through the back, but the front door burst open and in came Hyungwon’s only lawful enemy.

It took two seconds for the detective inspector to recognize who was in the room, and another second to command arrests. He walked up to Hyungwon, pointing his finger. “I’ve been chasing you for years, and of course I find you here.” He ground out.

Hyungwon didn’t say anything. In fact, he was waiting to be arrested, so he could play his trump card.

“Of course, this is where texts from my daughters stalker originated from too. I should’ve known it was you. It makes sense that you’d take her from me.” Your father accused, taking handcuffs out of his pocket. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you around her neighborhood. I’ve reviewed all the CCTV videos leading up to her disappearance, you’ve been there.”

Hyungwon had to laugh at his accusations. To him, they were so ridiculous because he knew the truth. He knew what he was doing in your neighborhood, and not once was he there to hurt you. It would seem your father was blinded by his passion to enforce the law to realize that. “How’d you find this place?” He questioned, deciding to play guilty a little longer.

“What? Did you think your texts would be untraceable?” Your father mocked.

“Yes. In fact, I know they’re untraceable.” He replied, rolling his eyes.

“Clearly they weren’t.”

“Clearly they still are. What? Do you think I’m Youngjae?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

Your father pushed him into the wall and put his hands behind his back, putting the cuffs on him.

“Evidence shows you are.”

“There is no evidence showing who I am. Although, there is a copious amount of evidence pointing to your daughter being my soulmate.” Hyungwon replied nonchalantly.

“Bullshit.” The detective replied, “Don’t think that for one second I’ll believe you.”

“If you arrest me, you won’t find her alive.” Hyungwon warned, “She’s dying, at this very second, and if you lock me up, I won’t be able to find her in time.” His voice cracked at the end. The thought of you dying...no, he wouldn’t let himself think like that. He’d get to you. He still had

time.

“Give up your attempts to trick me now. You don’t want me to add to your slew of charges.” Your dad spat, pulling Hyungwon off the wall and pushing him toward the door. “And for the record, she would’ve told us if she’s met her soulmate. When I last talked to her, she was upset because she hadn’t.”

Hyungwon through his head back in laughter, though there was no humor in it. “She didn’t tell you beca-” He stopped mid sentence, his knees buckling beneath him as his entire convulsed. The pain in his arm magnified, spreading throughout his entire body. His head throbbed while his limbs cramped. Shownu broke free of the grasp the agent had on him, one wrist cuffed while the other remained free. He ran in front of Hyungwon, blocking him from everyone’s view.

“They’re torturing her right now.” Shownu met your father’s eyes, “When he opens his eyes again, the world will be darker, and Red Rose will be one step closer to death.”

Hyungwon whimpered on the floor, unable to curl up or do anything to attempt to alleviate the pain. He was a pathetic sight to behold. Here he was, a strong leader of the mafia, on the floor crying from a pain that no one could understand.

It could’ve been funny, had the situation not been so dire. He was a powerful man -someone who didn’t let anything ruin him. That is, until he met you. You were his kryptonite; the one thing in the world that could completely destroy him. To the world, he was callous. He was cold and ruthless, incapable of showing emotions (with the exception of malice). But to you, he was soft. He was gentle and nurturing. He was able to communicate his feelings and show just how much he loved you.

“Okay, maybe he is missing his soulmate, but it ain’t my daughter,” Your father clearly did not want to accept that he really was your soulmate. He watched as Shownu reached into Hyungwon’s pocket, taking out his cell phone. “The universe wouldn’t pair my angel with such a monster, with-”

His voice cut off when Shownu showed him Hyungwon’s lockscreen, a picture of you smiling freely as you stared up at the night sky. Shownu then unlocked the phone, and showed what the home screen was, a picture of you and him sharing a kiss. There was no denying it now. No doubt he was your soulmate, and any argument that Hyungwon didn’t love you was quickly demolished.

“You mean to tell me, that he is like that, because something is happening to my daughter? Right now?” It seemed as though your father had the wind knocked out of him.

“Yes, and H.One is the only one capable of saving her.” Shownu pocketed his friend’s phone.

“What makes him the only one capable?”

“They’re bonded. It’s as simple as that.”

Hyungwon stopped his wriggling, breathing heavily. He was terrified he’d open his eyes and see black and white. Deep down, he knew he wouldn’t, because there was still a great amount of pain in his arm, but the prospect of not seeing colors kept him from coming back into the world. 

He felt himself being freed of handcuffs and sighed in relief. It was about time. He  knew he had to get up now, so he slowly stood up and chanced opening his eyes. It was dark enough in the house that he couldn’t tell if there was a change in the colors or not. He was grateful for that.

“I want you to know,” Your father started, “that if it wasn’t for my daughter, you’d be dead right now.”

“I would’ve already been dead by now if it weren’t for her.” Hyungwon replied breathlessly, wiping sweat off his brow.

“We’ll need to work together on this, so in the meantime, you can refer to me as J.” Your dad held his hand out to Hyungwon.

He grasped it firmly and shook it, “I’m sure you already know, but H.One.” This night marked an alliance, however temporary, between the two of them. Their goal was to find you, alive preferably. Together they would get closer.

A week later, Wonho came home with a package for Hyungwon.

“Hey Boss!” He called out as he walked through the front door, “You got a package! Don’t worry, I already checked if it was poisoned, or if it was an explosive.”

Hyungwon came down the stairs, confusion written all over him. “Where’d you get it?” He asked, coming to take the package out of his friend’s hands.

“Someone left it at the bar in one of the clubs.” He answered, “Don’t worry, we’re already checking the security footage to see who it was.”

“How strange…” He had a bad feeling about whatever was in this package. It didn’t seem heavy, in fact it was very lightweight, especially for the size of the box. He gently shook the box, listening to hear the contents move around. It didn’t sound terribly fragile. “I’ll open this, then let you all know what it is. Something tells me I’ll need to be alone for this.” Wonho nodded, clapping his friend on the back before walking towards the kitchen.

Hyungwon stared at the package as he walked back upstairs to his room. The only lettering on it was his code name. There was no return address, no hint as to who it was from. Once in his room, he shut the door and went about trying to find something to open the box with. He ended up finding a set of keys to use to open the package.

He took a deep breath before slowly running the key along the tape. Dread filled his stomach as the tape ripped open. Inside was a CD, sitting in the bottom left corner. He took the disk out and looked at it. Written on the disk was a date, 20180705. That was a month ago...now Hyungwon was even more hesitant to see the contents.

Still, he pulled out his laptop and slid the disk into the DVD player. It took a second for the computer to read and load the contents. Before he pressed play, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what was on the CD. When he let the video play, his nightmares came true.

There you were, nearly naked and strapped to a table, screaming and crying. You looked so pale, so skinny, so disregarded. Even in the dim lighting he could tell you had been beaten, that you were suffering. What made it all worse was that they were using your fear of thunderstorms against you.

He watched, stunned, as you flinched and panicked at every crash of thunder, every flash of light. He ached to reach through the screen and hold onto you, to whisper reassurances and sing you songs, to rock you in his arms and kiss you so you could forget the world around you. His heart constricted, his breaths becoming shallow; he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see.

The video was two and a half hours long...they made you suffer for two and a half hours. Were they at least providing you proper medical care? Surely after being exposed to so much water nonstop you’d be susceptible to many diseases. They were caring for you. They had to be. Deep down, though, he knew that wasn’t the case. He knew they were neglecting your health. That’s why you were so skinny, why he could barely tell the difference between colors now. He had to get to you. He had to find you now. He couldn’t waste anymore time.

He slammed the laptop shut, throwing it across the room. He heard something crack, but that was the last thing on his list of concerns. He stormed out of his room, and began to form a plan. He’ll find you. Just watch.

#kpopwonderlandtag #kloversnet #mxnetwork #thekpopnetwork #monsta x #hyungwon #chae hyungwon #hyungwon x reader #changkyun #i.m #jooheon #kihyun #kpop fanfiction #minhyuk #kpop #kpop fanfic #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfiction #trespass #hyungwon fanfic #hyungwon fanfiction #monsta x mafia au #monsta x soulmate au #mafia au #soulmate au #hyungwon angst #angst #hyungwon fluff #fluff #monsta x angst

[reignsrkive]

𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡.

 [𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩/𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔵 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔲]

Jung Hoseok x female reader

Genre: Angst, Smut.

Word Count: 7k

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Strong language, graphic gore, sexual descriptions.

Description: Bloodstained wings, bloodstained hands, and bloodstained memories. The triad of misery, infamy, and death. Little did they know that even if the two sides were considered polar opposites, they weren’t that much different after all. It was until the two met, the sharp edge of wood almost penetrating her heart, that the truth got out and keeping secrets wasn’t just a tactic anymore. It was vital.

                                      •• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ The wind flirted with her jet black hair, swaying between her short wavy locks that fell only a little past her heavy shoulders. Her hips moved along with her feet, her height not that great, but her dominance and confidence could be felt within even a bigger distance. Everyone’s eyes were always on her, wherever she passed from. People would look at her in admiration, infatuation but fear and hatred as well, as she came back from her missions to report to Azazer.

She gave people confident glares, reaching the area in which her uncle sat at this time of day- at night. She threw the man in all black that she held from his wrists in front of Azazer, the stranger already marked by her, blood dripping from his lips and under his eye from a cut she had made herself with her boot. “Angel. All yours” She replied harshly.

“Well, what do we have here?” Azazer stood up from his seat to inspect the wounded angel. He kneeled down in front of him and made him look at his eyes by tilting his head up with his index fingers, as his eyes turned a bright yellow, making the angel reveal its white wings. “Where did you find him?”

“He was inside. One of your incapable guards apparently didn’t notice a man in all black come in, sometime in the day. Maybe you should be careful who you assign jobs to. You’re already bad at your own job, at least hire people that will create a good image for you” You said, your tone cold and monotone as you felt no shame at the way you talked to your own relative. At the end of the day, he deserved it and it was nothing new to anyone, nothing the other demons didn’t know already. Nevertheless, in comparison to you, they felt too much fear to go against him.

You didn’t. There was nothing he could do to stop you. Sure, he could kill you just like he did to your parents for being “insurgents”. But he knew better than to ruin his legacy. You were that. After him, you would be the one to take his place. He knew nobody could do a better job than him, besides you. If he killed you, hell would literally become hell in all of its glory and anarchy would be the only word known between the demons, devils and every other demonic creature there was. “I found him ready to inject some kind of drug to one of your trusted- angels thinking that all of us dress in all black is ridiculous. Thought they were smarter than this”

“He was a spy” You added. “I got him to confess. So go ahead and kill him, just like you do to every one of the angels we find, instead of getting them to confess shit” You said ironically with a cold smile and watched him slaughter the spy with his sharp nails, cutting his throat with one swift move. The lifeless body fell to the ground with a thud and the white wings got stained with the crimson red blood, their whiteness getting less and less bright as the power they held faded away entirely. You turned around expressionless, ready to move on before he stopped you.

“Y/n,” He said. “Good job. You’re making me proud. Come to my office tomorrow morning. There’s something we need to talk about”

You rolled your eyes and walked away, your steps barely audible. You walked towards your den- as they liked to call them just for show-, which was a simple apartment. They did everything for show. You shook your head and noticed the presence of a taller figure walking beside you all of a sudden, but you felt at ease at him beside you. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble”

“So? What will he do? Torture me is all he can do or take away my rights- but he knows he can’t do that because it will be no use. He can torture me and mark me as much as he wants, I don’t give a shit” I shrugged. “He’s already marked my insides, the rest is nothing”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at your stubbornness and nudged your shoulder, trying to lighten up the mood and get the tension out of you. “You should get a boyfriend, a girlfriend, something. Hell, let it be a human. Again”

“You’re really going to bring that up? It’s not my fault they fall in love with me! And in my defense, he was hot. So was the girl I had to taunt a couple of months ago” You said with a small laugh as you opened the door to your apartment and let Yoongi inside before locking twice. “It’s just humans- they forget. You know they were just flings if I want a human I get deported and my power is taken away. The human life is not for me”

Yoongi laughed and nodded. “My girlfriend is great. I suggest you get someone to calm you down because I can’t be that person anymore”

“I don’t need anyone. I need to get Azazer to realize he’s ruining each and every one of our statutes, along with our moral values. This is why demons have been misunderstood and looked at as entirely evil. Our job is to keep the evil in the world at a level that it doesn’t get out of hand. We are assigned to taunt people and test them, to be their devils for a period of time in order to give them experiences that actually help them go on with their lives. But no- Azazer thinks just because the myths humans have written about us make us look evil and as lovers of death, we should be that. Just because he is a psychopath, doesn’t mean we all have to be” You ranted, completely in rage.

“Can’t we just kill him?” Yoongi groaned.

“We both know that if it was that simple, my parents would have done it already,” You said. “But sure, god forbid being actually fair. Sure- my dad shouldn’t have fallen in love with an angel, but she wasn’t an enemy. She actually wanted to help!”

“Hey, I need to go- Azazer has me on some new person tomorrow. We’ll talk? In the meantime, don’t burn anyone alive just because you’re mad” He said with an amused smile.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure, idiot. I can’t believe this is my best friend. Go get laid, we both know these are excuses”

“We gotta do what we gotta do to survive” He shrugged with a smirk and with a snap of his fingers, he disappeared from your apartment.

The air felt chillier than usual, tingles running down your spine as you got out of the scorching shower and let fresh clothes slip on your tan skin. You brushed your hair in the mirror, your blue eyes reflecting with a shine from your anger, a slight red hue to them from your raging emotions. For a single second, you spotted a small dot of light behind you, as if your eyes twitched and played games with you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion but shook your head anyway. 

The atmosphere seemed different than usual; even if your door and windows were locked just like always, there was some sort of energy emitting into the room that was both friendly and lethal at the same time. You scanned your bedroom, your eyes turning grey as you did so, but there was no sign of anything or anyone hidden around you. You gulped down some water, trying to forget it- It’s probably the built up rage that is tripping you out.

                                      •• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ You barged into Azazer’s office as if it was no big deal, your audacity as big as your ego, but also your right to act as you wanted towards him. “What do you want now?”

He laughed lightly and gestured to his trusted assistant to leave the office, letting you have your peace- if there was any left. “Good morning to you too, dear niece”

“It’s future Mistress to you, but whatever floats your boat before you say your last words I guess” You faked a smile and it dropped immediately as soon as he laughed. “It’s funny to you?”

“Yes, it is actually. How a little girl like you thinks she can take me down. Ah, just like your father. I must admit my brother was capable and strong- though too emotionally driven. You on the other hand; you’re heartless. We all know by now, but you lack evil in you” He said.

You raised an eyebrow at him and clapped your hands together, making him start choking. He tried to breathe but failed as you applied pressure onto his throat. He reached out for his glass of water, but you clapped twice and made it stop. “Be careful who you underestimate Azazer. Now tell me who you need me to kill so that I don’t have to breathe the same filthy air as you”

“I want you to be sent into Heaven and-”

“Not a chance” You laughed before he could even finish his sentence.

“You’ll be sent to Heaven as a messenger from one of their departments from Earth. You will be sent as one of their trusted humans. All I want you to do is bring me Ion, alive and well” He said. “Since you believe you’re all mighty and brave, it should be easy for you. I’m giving you three days”

“You want me to act human? Seriously? If I’m going to go in, I’ll probably be monitored by someone” I said.

“Exactly. You know you’re the best for this job. So, be useful for once” He shrugged and sat down on his seat. “Three days. Chris will be with you”

You shook your head and groaned. “Fine. Three days you say? Three days it is” You got out of the office and walked to your apartment, well aware that Chris was walking behind you, monitoring every movement of yours, knowing he had to be cautious and report you the moment you do anything suspicious. You opened the door and got inside, turning around to him as soon as you closed it. “Have anything for me?”

“Clothes are on your bed,” He said firmly. 

You knew for a fact that the moment you stepped inside to change, he would come with you since Azazer was that much of a dick- thinking you might pull an act in there alone. So you did, and the motherfucking creep kept eyeing you up and down. As soon as you were disguised, wearing all brighter colors of clothing, your makeup way different, just like your perfume, you started your way towards the gates, a long journey ahead. 

You weren’t going to just sit in a car with this asshole, but you knew exactly how to take him down. As you were a few minutes away from reaching the gates, you cleared your throat and let out a flirty sigh. “Chris...”

“What?” He asked harshly.

“We should take a break before we go. I’m kind of nervous- in need of a distraction. You and I used to work together. Remember all those parties we had fun at too? You always wanted something from me, but I never gave it to you... Maybe I should give you a chance. You know, for courage” You said.

He raised an eyebrow and pulled over, turning around to look at you. “If this is your way of going against Azazer again I-”

You stopped him by having your hand sneak its way on his thigh and on his crotch, starting to stroke on it, your lips next to his ear, your hot breath fanning his face. “Oh come on... You’ve even told me once when you were drunk, that you wanted to fuck me so much I forget the dominance I put on as a show, right? Let’s see if it’s all an act, Chris. You know you want this”

He cursed under his breath and turned around to kiss you. You felt your body tense up at the awful feel of his dirty lips onto yours but had to do it anyway. You knew all of the high-class demons by heart and manipulating them was just a piece of cake. You pulled away from the kiss and kissed him behind his ear, making him moan from how you touched him, only to take all of that pleasure away in one move. Your teeth got sharper at your command and you opened your mouth, taking his ear in and biting it off entirely. The blood trickled down his head, some of it on your own clothes as he screamed in pain.

You opened the window and spat his ear to the ground, spitting the blood out as well, as you let your claws come out of your usual nail length. You forced them into his chest, piercing into his heart, the darkness in his eyes fading away fast. You took your hand out and cringed at the almost black color of his blood, in comparison to the crimson red hue of an angel’s. You took the water bottle from the middle of the car and cleaned your mouth, spitting the water out. You quickly got out of the car and snapped your fingers, knowing it now must be on fire in some dessert. You rolled your eyes at how easy it was for you to get what you wanted- maybe this was your chance to win.

                                      •• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ You had changed into a better set of clothes as you had already passed your security check from the guards. You were quickly sent to the office of Ion, your target. Ion was just like Azazer. He was what Azazer was for Hell. A leader, a representative and he who decided how things happened. It was a fact that he was a way better one than Azazer, but from your countless missions, you knew that he wasn’t as good as everyone thought. Angels were always shown as good, as those who brought light, happiness, peace. The truth is, their white wings were in fact red. Stained from the blood they had shed of others, trying to get their way. They were just as manipulative as demons and devils, if not even more.

You smiled as a blonde secretary in a white dress took you to Ion, his stance dominant just like yours was. Nevertheless, you were careful at how much confidence you showed. You needed to show the good part of it, the part of it that would, in fact, show him he can trust you with whatever he thinks you are helping with down on earth. “Y/n,”

“Mr. Ion” You smiled back at him. “So great to finally be here with you. Was about time we met”

“Indeed. I’ve heard a lot of things about you” He said. “Since today is just bad timing and my day is busy, I’m going to skip everything that you already know and introduce you to your guide, that will be here with you. Hoseok, come on in” He said and his eyes focused behind you. 

You never thought angels truly appeared like this. As if they emitted light into a room, as if their smile could charm you the moment you saw it and their eyes made you feel warm and secure. At the same time, something was bugging you at the back of your stomach, your gut screaming at you that there was something about him that felt off. “Ah, finally. This is the Y/N”

“And you must be my guide?” You asked, holding your hand out for him to shake. He smirked lightly and shook your hand, the feeling sending small sparks onto your skin.

“Hoseok. Jung Hoseok. Your personal angel in command” He said. “Ion, they are asking for you already. You should go, I’ve got it from here on”

Ion nodded before greeting you once more and the door behind him closed. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you turned around, pressure being put onto your chest. You looked down at your chest to see a piece of wood, its point sharp and lethal, being pressed against your heart, your white dress stained with a small dot of blood, that got bigger as more pressure was put onto it. You looked up at Hoseok, hissing in pain, feeling unable to use your powers. With his face inches away from you, his eyes sparkled in a way that you have never seen before in anyone.

“Now it’s just you and me”

                                      •• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ •• 

§ You gritted your teeth and locked your jaw in place as Hoseok’s firm arm rested against your neck, blocking your airway partially, the stain of blood on your chest getting bigger as he kept applying pressure, just enough for it to hurt you. His eyes were a dark brown, so dark his irises were barely distinguished. You struggled to keep yours their normal ocean blue colour, trying to keep playing your human character. “Y/n... You think you’re really getting away with something like this?” “I don’t understand. Do I know you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure you’re trying to pierce through my heart” “Yet you’re showing no sign of pain,” He said. “You’re good at this, aren’t you? You fooled too many people already, but little do you know” “What exactly are you trying to say here, Hoseok?” “You think I wouldn’t know you? The y/n? I’m not just some angel, babe. I’m more than that. You know how you are one of the greatest in Hell? Consider me your equal in Heaven” He said. “I don’t-” “If you keep putting on the act of being human, save it for someone who will actually believe you. I’m sorry to tell you that that’s not me” He said, his voice harsh but smooth as honey at the same time. His voice brought the image of a soft hue of blue in your head- just like the colour of the morning sky, mixed with a deep fiery red- reminding you of the blood that trickled down the angel’s slaughtered neck that had intruded Heaven only yesterday, painting a purple forest of intricate flowers and broken pieces of wood, mixed with the smell of pain and blood in your own, already colourful mind. The silence lasted for mere seconds, but the way you focused on each other’s eyes, how your gazes were set trying to unravel all you were thinking of, made your skin tingle and a blaze of fire go through your body. “Who are you?” You asked. He smirked widely and all of the pressure was lifted off of your body, as he pulled away, taking the sharpened piece of wood out of your chest and making it disappear with one snap of the fingers. You gasped at the loss of the feeling and breathed out for air, your eyes never leaving him as he walked towards the chair of Ion’s desk, sitting down as if it was his. He crossed his legs and rested his arms on each side of the spinning chair, the smirk still present on his pink lips. “I am glad you finally asked. I know you’re smart, strikes me to see you get so stuck in front of me. Jung Hoseok. Angel. But also devil hunter. Specially assigned to monitor you. A high-class devil, going around and killing people, taking away their powers. Biting off ears?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“So you monitored all of my moves?” You raised an eyebrow back. “What did you expect me to do, bite his dick off? He’s like Azazer’s pet, he’d do anything he asked him to. I couldn’t come here on a mission and have him bothering me and possibly even making me fail it” 

He chuckled a little and nodded. “Right. Maybe we should go somewhere more private to talk about our intentions”

“Our intentions?” You asked crossing your arms across your chest.

“You will understand as soon as I tell you. Don’t be impatient. You might be independent and dominant, but so am I” He said. “Let’s go. We’ll have to teleport, we can’t have you walking around with a blood-stained dress, or with that evil look in your eyes. Not everyone is as smart as I am, but you can’t even hide your lack of emotion”

                                      •• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ •• 

§ You looked around, knowing he has taken you to what seemed to be his apartment. It looked clean, but also very fun. Interesting. Besides how intriguing he seemed to you, his apartment felt warm, almost welcoming even to you. If these were going to be your last days here, you might as well make them count. You didn’t know what exactly his intentions were yet. “So are you going to tell me if you want to kill me or not?”

He let out a chuckle and walked to his kitchen, but you stayed there. “I’m not going to follow you”

“If you want to know, I advise you to come with me. Your choice” He said.

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms in front of your chest. You waited for him to come back with an annoyed expression on your face. You weren’t going to do as he told you, you would stand your ground and show him that you can fight back, whatever he wanted from you. He came back with a laugh and shook his head at you as he stood in front of you. his height hovering over you. “If that’s what you want”

“How long have you been stalking me for?” You asked him.

“The proper name is monitoring, but call it what you want. Not that long, but long enough to know your ways. You really are something else, aren’t you? People are not that wrong about how you are one of the most heartless devils there are. But somehow even if heartless, you spare lives and you’re fair. Strikes me. You’re just like your father. Your mother was more feeling dominated” He said, crossing his own arms in front of his chest.

“Do you really think you have the right to talk about my parents?” You asked him. “You want something from me. If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already, you wouldn’t have brought me here. Aren’t you breaking rules if you were assigned to kill me? You’re a devil hunter, you kill us”

“You weren’t assigned to me by a superior,” He said, putting his hands in his pockets. “I assigned you to myself. And you’re right, I do want something from you. I don’t like you but, you could be a lot of help”

“Good to know that feelings are mutual,” You said, coldly. “How could I help? You’re planning to kill Ion or something?”

“Not just Ion. Azazer too” He said.

You raised your eyebrows at him, thinking he was dumb to make thoughts like those and let out a hearty laugh. “Ah, good one Hoseok. Your expectations are really high, but I guess we can all dream. And who are you even to be able to do that and seek for my help?”

“I’m the leader of a very strong group of people,” He said. “Including some of yours. It might come off as a surprise, but most demons and devils hate Azazer’s guts. It’s the group your own parents had made”

“The what?” You asked, your lips parted. “My parents didn’t-”

“Your parents had a group. You were just too young for them to tell you. They assigned it to my family and my mother eventually gave the leadership to me, thinking I was fitting for the position more than she is. The group had died down and was forgotten until a few months ago when I brought it back. It’s going great, but we need more than just half of our populations combined to kill both of them. We need you” He looked into your eyes, waiting for a response at his words.

You took in a deep breath and nodded. “And what makes you think I believe all you said? You could be pulling all of that crap right out of your ass for all I know, and using my parents against me” You pointed out.

“Because you wouldn’t care if it was your parents’ plan or not. You hate both of them, you want them dead and you want to take Azazer’s place. I seek peace between us and for both of our jobs to be done properly. You seek justice. That goes well together, don’t you think?” He asked you.

“Sure they do. But do you have any plans? Because you act so mighty in front of me, do you actually know what it takes to kill a Hell Master? It’s not that simple. You literally need to take their heart out and burn it in the Golden Goblet” You said.

“I know” He nodded. “That’s why I need you to help me”

“You need me?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I do need you too. Not just the others. I might be strong, but having someone equally as strong beside me is vital. We both want to win. So why not just help me, y/n?” He asked, the distance between the two of you less than what you remembered it to be.

You looked up at him, keeping your stance as dominant as possible over his, which was overpowering. You felt it in your whole body, how powerful he was, how he could actually even manipulate you if you let him. “Fine. I’ll help you”

                                      •• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ “You can stay with me for these three days,” He said, walking to his kitchen again. This time, you followed behind. Without having to ask, he poured you a cold glass of water and offered it to you, leaving it on the table. “Ion wanted to get you a guest room in his mansion, but I didn’t trust that knowing you might agree to work with me. So I offered”

“I don’t need to stay here. You obviously hate my guts, so why have to deal with me more than just when we work together?” You asked him.

“I think I can take three days of you” He smirked. “I followed you around for many more than that. I know you by now, maybe better than your own best friend” He said, taking out things from his fridge. “Hungry?”

“Sure” You shrugged. “So what exactly do you know then? If you think so highly of yourself that you are knowledgeable of me”

“This Yoongi guy. What’s he to you?” He asked, his eyes not meeting yours for even a single second.

“What is that kind of information to you?” You asked him, intrigued.

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “I might know a thing or two. I’m curious. I need to start liking you if we’re going to spend time together. It’s not going to be just these three days”

“It is going to be just these days. After we’re done, you and I go off to Hell and Heaven and never meet again. Simple” You said. “He’s just a special friend of mine”

“Special” He laughed lightly. “Fucking around with someone qualifies them as a special person in your life then?”

“It’s not just that. He was there and he stayed there, in comparison to other people in my life that were ungrateful. He never left and he’s still beside me. That makes him special. The rest doesn’t matter. It was all emotionless, just a getaway. So you have no right to judge that and question it to me. You’ve never just fucked around? I bet you’re the kind to have relationships, but I also bet you have been like that” You told him.

“I’m not judging you” He shook his head, as he cut tomatoes to make a simple pasta with homemade tomato sauce. “And I haven’t had many relationships anyway. Just two and only one mattered”

“Ongoing I suppose? Does your girlfriend support you?” You asked him.

“My girlfriend is dead,” He said, his words harsh and cold as if he just closed a door in your face and shut you off from his heart.

You sat on the counter next to him, making him raise an eyebrow at you. “From what?”

“Killed. By one of yours” He said.

Your lips parted to speak, but there were no words that would be enough for him to make him like you. Although this had nothing to do with you, you felt as if he hated you for this exact reason. And somehow, a part of you wanted for him to at least find you tolerable if not pleasant. “Did she do anything?”

“Yeah,” He said. “She cheated on me on a mission in Hell. Isn’t that enough of a crime?” He laughed, his laugh dark and full of hurt. “But she failed her mission and got caught the moment she was going to steal some documents. She wasn’t exactly made for those kinds of missions. Or any missions. She was calm. Angelic in all of its meanings”

You bit your lip and got off the counter, feeling a wave of pressure and tension between your bodies and the atmosphere lingering in the air. “Would it be okay with you if I took a shower? I suppose my luggage is probably here already”

“Yeah, go ahead,” He said. “End of the hall. You’re going to be sleeping in my room. Probably one of greatest mistakes, but I might die in this plan anyway. So who’s it going to hurt if I let you in huh?”

                                      •• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ The hot water run down your skin like the clear water that runs in rivers, between harsh and sharp rocks, giving it a gentle touch between the cruel reality. Your lips parted as you let your head fall back and the drops of refreshing and calming liquid caress your face. You took in steady breaths, the thoughts in your head trying to drive you insane. What was going to happen was big and maybe the person you chose to do it with wasn’t the best. You didn’t even know the guy, so why did you even agree? Why didn’t you give it time?

You couldn’t. The truth was that you had to do something now if you wanted to win and not be a slave of your own uncle for the rest of your life- and not only you but many more innocent devils and demons. If three days passed and you didn’t bring him Ion, he would have you executed for all you knew. Everyone always thought he would never kill you because you are useful to him. You are indeed a precious belonging for him, but he has changed to the worst. He has no mercy any longer, killing people in front of huge crowds with no concern over the younger ones.

The handle screeched a little as you turned it around to stop the water from running any longer and you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a clean white towel around your naked body, the cloth hugging your curves. You put on a new set of underwear and pants, pulling a tank top over your head, to hear rustling behind you. You turned around as you pulled it down and saw Hoseok leaning on the door frame, his legs crossed just like his arms, his eyes fixated on your figure and then your captivating blue eyes. “Did you need anything?” You asked him, taking a few steps towards him.

He shook his head and looked down at his feet for a second. “No” He replied, licking his lips. “Just... The food is ready if you want to eat”

“Okay...” You said, your bodies only a few inches away, something that happened so naturally that your brain didn’t even process it happened until now, that you felt the energy emit off of him “Are you sure it’s just that, Hoseok?” You asked, your voice low and steady.

“No,” He said again, the same tone in his voice. Low. Deep. Raspy. “Somehow... there’s more that I want, but it’s not words that I want to express”

You looked at his lips for a mere moment, as they looked perfect. Their shape was sculptured a way that made you lick your own. Big enough to make them look like small pink pillows. Glossy and smooth enough to make you want to get as much of a taste of them as you can. And the thing was, it wasn’t just his lips. It was everything he was from head to toe, inside and out even if you didn’t know it all. His nose, his glass like skin, his small but piercing eyes, his silky black hair. The way his body was perfectly aligned and all it got out to you. His energy wasn’t just calm and welcoming. It was so different and intriguing that you wanted all of it, all to yourself, even for a single time.

“Do you want something?” He asked.

“We all always have a desire” You simply replied. “And it’s never enough as soon as we make it happen. And it’s more than just one”

The next few movements happened so fast that you didn’t have the time to decide if you wanted them to happen in the first place. Hoseok took a few steps towards you, making you take a step back and the door was slammed closed by his foot as he took your arms and turned you around, pushing you up against it. His palm rested on your cheek as your foreheads rested onto one another’s and he looked at your lips, brushing his own against yours. “You must be desirable to a lot of people. Can’t say I blame them”

“Same goes to you, Angel boy” You smirked at him. “Bet you’ve committed as many crimes as I have with those looks”

“You have a lot of assumptions of me too, I see,” He said, his lips pulling up at one side. “You’re not going to force me off of you? Tell me to know my place, huh? I thought you were supposed to be a dominant person, future Hell Mistress”

“Hmm... I am. But I’m not going to do it” You said. “I don’t want to” You whispered in his ear, coming back down to look at his eyes.

He crashed his lips onto yours and they molded just like sea water kisses the golden sand smoothly, perfectly. Naturally. Like puzzle pieces fit together just right. You pulled away just to look at him and raised an eyebrow. “We just met. Maybe this is your technique to get me killed”

“Did just meeting someone ever stop you?” He asked.

“Valid” You shrugged and kissed him again.

As you tasted his lips again, a small gasp escaped your lips when he pulled away this time. “Aren’t you going to say that shit about how I’m an angel and you’re a devil and that’s forbidden? You’re a fucking royal devil, y/n”

“You think I care?” You asked. “Just give me what we both need”

                                      •• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ Two of the three days passed too quickly for your liking and the angst of the situation built up around you and Hoseok, minute by minute. What happened the first night, had kept you two at an edge the whole time you were a little too close to one another. You knew it. Just like you said at the mercy of his presence, desires- even if claimed- are never enough. You were greedy; greedy for more of him and how good he tasted. Not just how his lips tasted, or your lips on his skin, but how his soul tasted, being revealed right in front of your eyes and being given to you in a single night.

One day you didn’t even know him and the next it felt as if you could have known him from the moment he was born. Just like he felt with you. You stole glances the first chance you got and even if he caught you or you caught him, your eyes lingered on each other for more than enough seconds for many more thoughts to pop into your head and chills to take over your whole entire being. 

The plan was set and so was everyone. Ion was first to be taken down, and you were more than sure it was the easier case. Hoseok could kill Ion with his eyes closed, he trusted him like the back of his hand. You were so surprised to see that almost the whole population of Heaven was on with the plan. Everyone else who wasn’t was captured, killed and made to disappear and forgotten. It was a secure plan and it happened quickly with no further demands or fuss. 

This was the difference between Devils and Angels. Angels agreed and understood one another. They knew what was vital, what was enough and when they needed to stop. Devils, on the other hand, were greedy, egotistic creatures that wanted the best they could have no matter the cost. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t a victim of that gene. Selfishly enough, in a time where everything was a life or death issue, your mind was set on what happened with Hoseok after this was hopefully over. You were greedy to get him to be beside you again, see him raw and uncensored and that was selfish- to distract yourself when you needed to protect the rights and the lives of your people, the people that trusted you.

Swift movements, barely audible steps, and loud whispers brought you to the moment you waited for, for as long as you remembered. You stood with Azazer in your hands, dark blood running down his hoarse skin as the slits in his neck were cut deep from your claws. The blood dripped down from your own hands and a laugh escaped Azazer’s mouth, his eyes tired but still as dead as he always looked inside. “What is it now, niece. You’re finally getting what you always wanted. Why are you holding back? I’m all your to see burn alive. Or have you finally changed your mind?”

Your lips parted and the sight of your parents being killed in front of your teenager eyes run through your mind, again and again, your own screams echoing in your ears. Everything stopped around you and your hands felt weak. Azazer taking advantage of your throbbing flashback balled his hands into fists and made a golden rope appear around Hoseok’s neck who was standing beside you, holding Azazer’s head down. Hoseok fell to the floor behind him, choking, trying to get a word out. “Y/n, d-do i-it,” He said, hissing in pain and coughing out small droplets of blood as his neck was crushed.

A yell escaped your mouth the same moment a tear fell down your tear duct, giving your hand the order to go through your own blood relative’s chest and take his heart out. You gasped as you saw the heartbeat in your palm, Azazer’s hand falling to the ground, the red in his eyes becoming a dull white and the colour of his skin being drained out by death. You took the heart and threw it in the Golden Goblet as soon as Hoseok was let to breathe and you cried out, seeing the organ burn to ashes.

You cried. For the first time in thirteen years, actual tears made your skin wet and sobs escaped your mouth as you covered it with your bloody hands.

The triad was completed, at that moment.

Bloodstained wings. The wings of both sides dripped in blood, the white and black feathers mixed together in the pool around Azazer’s blood. But of countless other innocents or criminals’ vital substance that used to flow in their veins, giving them extraordinary powers, rights, responsibilities and simply; life.

Bloodstained hands. The hands that were stained with red, deep or light, filling hearts and minds with guilt, pleasure, justice or sadness. Lives that were even taken with bare hands, just like this one.

Bloodstained memories. The memories of parents being slaughtered in front of a child’s eyes, its own uncle indifferent of the pain he caused. The memories of a loved one turning to a different person than the one they knew, and being caught in a lie and killed in front of him.

This might be the triad of misery, infamy, and death, but only as long as morals are set to the side. But if used with emotion and mercy, it can be the triad of peace.

Hoseok held you in his arms as you gasped for breath and his head rested on yours, his eyes closed. “It’s okay. It’s over. It’s all over”

As you watched him walk off out of the gate of Hell to go serve his duty in his own world, he looked behind him and turned around, only to have you walk up to him again and kiss his lips, the taste familiar and at this point, a reminder of what home feels like. “Don’t you dare not come back to me”

“Or else?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Or I’ll kill you” You playfully hit his shoulder, letting him walk off. Walk off away when you actually needed him, but knew you had to do your own job. When were you going to see him again? He was an angel sent to you, just like what your mother was to your father. Their story ended in death and yours started with it. All you could do was hope it would continue soon and end completed.

                                     •• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

AU: I hope you guys enjoyed this concept. I got inspired from the season greetings 2019 photoshoot because the boys looked like angels. I needed a break from requests and felt the need to do something creative to spark my productivity. I really did enjoy writing this, it’s all yours now babes!

P.S. If this does good enough, I’ll write three additional parts. The plotting of how they took down the leaders, their pasts and the aftermath.

Masterlist

#bts #bts au #au #bts scenario #scenario #bts angel au #bts devil au #angel x devil #bts x reader #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #jung hoseok au #hoseok au #jhope au #jung hoseok scenario #hoseok scenario #jhope scenario #angel hoseok #angel jhope #devil reader #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #jung hoseok x you #jung hoseok x yn #hoseok x yn #hoseok x you #jhope x you #jhope x yn

[dustneedle48-blog]

How It Ends Review

For better or worse, AMC?s zombie-smashing megahit The Walking Dead�has long become the most popular depiction of the post-apocalypse. What comes after the end of everything is a popular topic in the collective unconscious these days (can?t imagine why), and The Walking Dead�is the entertainment entity that has had the longest time to explore it.

And that?s always been the problem with The Walking Dead, it loves to explore the emotional, social, and political ramifications of society?s collapse. And my God it has tons of time to do so. The show is so in love with what it means to survive the unsurviveable that entire seasons of the show pass with thousands of bullets fired, dozens of philosophical conversations had, and absolutely nothing learned.

At first glance, Netflix?s apocalyptic action drama, How It Ends,�seems like a response to the overly ponderous zombie-filled rumination on The Nature of Man? and What It All Means�. The apocalypse hits fast-forward in How It Ends. An unknown cataclysm on the West Coast turns off the lights and shuts down the internet and cell signals worldwide in about 15 minutes. Five minutes later the entire world is Mad Max: Fury Road�with Cadillacs on I-90 instead of war rigs on an African desert path.

Hilariously implausible? Yes. A death sentence for the movie? Not necessarily. What is a death sentence, however, is how punishingly, infuriatingly boring the apocalypse turns out to be. Give How It Ends�credit for not wasting our time and getting to the end of the world within a quarter-hour. Give it absolutely no credit for then somehow making the end of the world an absolute 120-minute chore to slog through.

Theo James stars as Will, a young man living in Seattle with his beautiful and perfect wife Sam (Kat Graham). We don?t know precisely what Will does for work, but he calls it ?the firm? so undoubtedly he?s very important and cool. Will has business back in Chicago so after a work meeting, he intends to pay a visit to Sam?s father, Tom (Forest Whitaker) and mother Paula (Nicole Ari Parker) with the intent of asking Tom for his daughter?s hand in marriage. Tom is a doting father, former military man, and monstrous prick. He hates Will for having the audacity to unconditionally love his daughter for years, not making enough money (but the firm!), and moving to Seattle. It?s a rough dinner for Will and the following morning is even rougher because uh?the apocalypse suddenly happens.

For a film called How It Ends, How It Ends�is completely unconcerned with the how of anything. Bad things just kind of start to happen and Tom, type-A butthead that he is, immediately knows that he must make the 2,000-mile drive to Seattle to rescue his Sam. http://tinyurl.com/y88bjbv3 decides to tag along because there?s paternal catharsis out in them there hills.

The majority of How It Ends�takes place on Interstate 90, which despite being closed by the federal government for safety reasons, it still seems to be populated by thousands of generic redneck villainy, who look like they?ve been living off the land for 40 years. Will and Tom spend a lot of time alone in Tom?s Caddy, speeding along a mostly barren landscape and needlessly challenging each other?s manhood.

http://bit.ly/2PkrNcl ?s hard to criticize James and Whitaker?s performances because there is really nothing to perform. Will and Tom are empty archetypes and not even interesting ones at that. Tom is the typical aging badass whose military training and fierce love of family will help him overcome any adversary. Just once, I?d like to see a post-apocalyptic drama in which the most powerful and useful character is a tiny nerd with a bad thyroid and PhD in modernist avant-garde literature of the 20th century.

Will alternates between helpless and killing machine as the plot dictates. James is charismatic enough but has the wrong physicality for the role. He?s far more imposing than any of the threats the two come across, but by plot necessity can?t quite seem to accomplish anything correctly until the third act when he suddenly must.

Also the scrunched timeframe and accelerated apocalypse goes from a strength to a weakness pretty quickly when it becomes clear just how accelerated the timeline is. The movie offers helpful ?Day 2, Day 3, etc.? subtitles throughout the proceedings and each one is funnier than the last. Viewers are treated to events that wouldn?t appear out of place on The Walking Dead?s�100th episode only to then be greeted by the star text ?Day 3.? It?s like that Will Ferrell era Saturday Night Live skit where the teleprompter goes out and society collapses.

Also for men who are singularly focused on finding the woman they love, Will and Tom sure make a lot of pit stops. They stop for gas and take on a barely willing mechanic, Ricki (Grace Dove). They stop at Will?s friends house and load up on what seems to be like nine years of supplies then stop again not five minutes later for more. Will and Tom?s only consistent characteristic, and only consistent motivation, is that they are in an action movie. Any outside emotion, motivation, or stimulus that would interfere with that is ignored. Even when they reach a level of understanding, it?s because they are in an action movie and required to do so, not because the two men have found any meaningful middle ground.

Visually, How It Ends�mostly works. Director David M. Rosenthal (of the upcoming Jacob?s Ladder�remake) knows that America on fire should be bitterly pretty. The landscapes across northern I-90 blend together but Tom and Will?s little Cadillac is placed well within them. The few action set pieces are clear but clich� and under characterization from those involved robs them from any poignancy or power.

[musesofolive]

So, I keep seeing the whole like “a character realizing they’re in love but instead of being all romantic about it, they go “NO. GOD. WHY? AHHHH!” And, this fits with exactly three characters I have.

Riley:

I mean, how could anyone expect anything less from Mr. Emotional Avoidance and Trust Issues Man? Genuinely, the second he realizes he’s in love, this one just about has a heart attack. First of all, how could he have not noticed that this was happening so he could put a stop to it? Secondly, the audacity of his crush, making him actually feel things! It’s just downright rude, he’ll have you know!

I mean, this happens when he’s at a bar and he’s just swirling his drink around, staring into the amber liquid. Then, the thoughts of his crush invade and he gets this absolutely lovesick smile on his face. He starts thinking up new ways to tease him to see that adorable flustered expression, toying with the idea of stealing this pretty brooch he saw on a passing noble that would compliment his eyes. Then, Riley snaps out of it some when he sees the lovey expression he has in the reflection of his drink. That’s when it hits him.

He fell in love.

His face goes pale, he looks like he’s seen a ghost, he all but drops the drink on the table. Others near him stare like he’s gone mad, but for once he’s not paying attention to onlookers, too caught up in his own head. Suddenly, the butterflies he had in his stomach turn into bloodthirsty bats and fear grips him in it’s icy claws. This wasn’t part of the plan, the plan was to get filthy rich, have some fun, and then go out in a blaze of glory. No room for any real love, or husbands. husband. By the gods, he wasn’t actually thinking of marrying this man, was he? This feeling ran a lot deeper than he thought. How hadn’t he noticed and killed it earlier? He was slipping, and the worst part about it was that some part of his mind wasn’t even unhappy about it. This was terrible.

He... he needed to run.

Nova:

Was it any surprise that she would freak out the most when this happens? She’s only had one romantic relationship in her entire life, and given what an absolute horror story it was, it would be safe to say she was completely scarred by it. Even the idea of romantic love makes her sick, the notion has been absolutely ruined by Dorian.

But of course, time and a lot (and I do mean a lot) of self-reflecting and working on herself heals this over some. For this to even happen it has to be someone she has been friends with for a long time, someone she knows she could trust with her life. She would realize it in the moment, not thinking it over in her head later. Something will just strike her that this is so familiar as she laughs at a joke or rolls her eyes at a cheesy line.

Any joy immediately slips off her face, she looks like she’s seen a ghost. Nova looks absolutely terrified when she gets hit by the realization. And she is terrified. This only happened once and that experience was horrible, why would her brain do this to her a second time?

She starts going into a panic attack over it, and her love interest would gently cup her cheeks and ask what’s wrong and all she can respond with is “I’m in love with you...” A phrase that is normally said with so much joy, and yet she says it like it’s a death sentence.

It takes her a hot second with the help of her love interest to come back from the attack, and even longer to talk through what she just said. But she does get reminded that no matter what happens, she’s going to be okay.

Rowan:

Not a real muse I suppose, but their character is important to me nonetheless so uh, meet Isla’s older sibling, Rowan. The one who said “I have no time for romance, I am too busy supporting my family and tribe.” And then became a hypocrite and fell in love. The thing is, this is a known fact, they have said this since forever. Every time any of their family asks them about it, they respond with that pretty much. They didn’t want it to distract from the job, especially seeing as they were going to inherit the head of the trading itself. It was too important of a task and romance seemed so small. Besides, it got to place them on a high horse that they used constantly to make fun of both Isla and Torin since the both of them were hardcore romantics. Ahah, they can’t anymore.

This one, fell in love with the son of one of Bruinen (their father)’s trading partners. They had met ever since they were little as the partnership had lasted so long and were good friends. Their meetings were more frequent as Rowan saw this as a “we’re both going to inherit our parent’s businesses when they are too old, I should do my job to make sure this partnership lasts even through the change of power. It’s fine. It’s just business.” Which it was... until it wasn’t. When meetings turned into dinners that turned into half-drunken talks on the couch. When their language changed from professional to casual to bordering on flirting.

They realize they’re in love when they’re sitting in the library of their parent’s house, having just finished a book gifted to them by the son and looking over the heart-felt note he had written on one of the blank pages fondly. They trace their finger over it and then freeze. Why did their body feel so warm just thinking about his affections? They weren’t... were they? The more they look back on the time they shared and how they felt in the moment, the more they realize that they are indeed in love. The shock of it just about sends them to the floor.

This was preposterous! Preposterous and irrational, they couldn’t allow feelings to interfere with their work! Not when they had put in all of that effort to make sure it didn’t, how could it have been so effortlessly flung aside? ... Why weren’t they more upset by it?

Rowan is really just staring at the wall, a blank yet panicked look on their face as well as a deep blue flush, that Torin catches sight of when he walks in to get them. And he immediately grins because he knows that look all too well. He’s seen it on his own face every time he thinks about Dathan.

“I knew it would happen eventually! I knew it!” He exclaims with an almost maniacal laugh that knocks Rowan out of their stupor.

“I hardly know what you’re talking about,” they scoff, trying to play off their revelation.

Torin won’t have any of it as he waggles a finger at them. “Oh no, there’s no playing off this one. Face it nerd, you’re finally in love!” He laughs again as he begins to dance in victory. “You can’t make fun of me for panicking around Dathan anymore! Now you get it! Oh, just wait until dad hears about this.”

The flush on their face gets worse as they stand up, glaring daggers at Torin. “You’re not telling dad anything,” they all but growl.

Torin smirks. “Watch me.”

With that, the chase begins, Rowan yelling at their older brother to stop being so foolish and that they’ll kill him, while Torin laughs and continues shouting from the tops of his lungs that Rowan is in love.

They really hoped love wasn’t always going to be this troublesome, or else they were more doomed than they thought.

#ooc #Olive talks #musings #Riley #Nova #Rowan #ahhh this felt nice to write #not exactly a narrative work but I'll take what I can get #did I really stay up until 4 am to write this when I have school? Yes #what a shame I can't find it in myself to regret it

[eternalstereksecretsanta]

Quit Dragon Me Down

@acollectionofsterek​ - Happy Christmas!

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut as the carriage faded from view, but he could not stop the tears from leaking out and flooding down his face. Another couple, taken, and their only sin was love. In the eyes of Human law, however, “love” was another word for “heretic” when the bond was between two of the same sex.

Another couple from his clan he could not save. Another couple from his kingdom as a whole who would perish because mortals were foolish. And because he was not king, he could not do a thing about it.

And the king would not listen to this voice of his only son.

Stiles would know, because he had tried relentless. Maybe that was the reason for the steep curve of his shoulders, this weight that would cause him to crumble if he had to bear it much longer. The guilt. Too many friends, too many Clanmates, too many of his People. All because his father, the king, was too scared to oppose the Human’s council, for fear that if he made a stand, the secrets of the Dragons would be released and royal family or no, a massacre might ensue not only against the royal house, but even single Dragon in the Clan. Because the humans had no idea their royal family was comprised of dragons, or even that dragons existed. Although, why the secret of Dragons should be in danger if his father took a stand, Stiles could not figure out. Maybe his father figured it would slip out during the explanation of why same-sex love was not a crime, or bad, or disgusting, or derogatory.

Because Humans could not fucking comprehend the ability to love anyone with the same genitals. Or anyone at all, with the amount of slaughtering they did. Senselessly. Shamelessly. At great cost.

Because humans could be more monstrous, destructive, deadly, than any fictional story they had ever created for themselves to read at night.

Doyle. Doyle and Finn. Both 17, a mere 4 years younger than he. Two sweet dragons, childhood Bondmates, who got Reported. Fucking traitors. Fucking cads. Fucking scoundrels!

Stiles squeezed his fists white, because as the prince that was as much anger in his stages of grief that he was allowed to show. Maybe not even pressed fists, but concessions must be made. He was losing it. Good men and woman, disappearing. For what? Because they couldn’t reproduce? Because they “harmed” people who would rather sentence lives to death than look away?

Doyle and Finn.

Trish and Anya.

Fairchild and Alazar.

Hans and Fynnegan.

Tonya and Michelle.

Tony and Michel.

Lorna and Francie.

And [i]that [/i] was the Report toll in the last fortnight for god’s sake! At this rate, no one would be left because the population was being culled faster than could be reproduced. And his father would do nothing. He would stand by and watch his People die.

This was not the greater good, no matter what his dad tried to convince him. This was pain. This was sorrow. This was an ache.

And the worst part was that Stiles was forbidden to have his Bonded, because his Bonded was also a man. 5 years, Stiles has had to watch his beloved from the shadows. At least if he wanted to openly oogle. In close quarters, he had to act unnatural. For natural would be ravishing his mate and relishing in their bond, starting the process that would give his human mate the same long life span as his dragon mate. But no. Humans and their pea sized brains restricted him from his only. Except for Derek. Derek did not have a pea sized brain. Derek was perfect. Derek was the sun, and the moon, and quite possibly his northern star. Stars were important to dragons. Derek was definitely his northern star. Fuck it, his whole damn universe.

Which is really damn tragic because he was clumsy as hell and probably made bad impressions on the love of his life daily. But the love of his life mostly looked bemused with him and not offended or horrified so it was okay.

And it’s not like it was either or their faults that Stiles’ world revolved around Derek more steadfast than his duty to his kingdom, that’s just how the bond worked; instantly and intensely. But neither the bond nor being a prince cure him of being an awkward, hyper young man.

But what can cure him of being awkward and hyper? This shit. This shit brought out his dragon, and his dragon was a lot more composed and a lot deadlier, even when Stiles managed to restrain his dragon within his human form.

Hell hath no fury like a man forced to watch his beloved remain unclaimed and watch people he cared about die.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and jerked him out of his stare down with the long-empty gravel road.

“Your highness, we must go. It is not proper for you to be seen here.” His royal guard urged.

“Right. Let us go.” Stiles looked down at the puddle he had created and crushed the moist dirt with his boot.

The dust has settled but his rage had not.

——-

Derek paused from where his mallet hit steel and wiped his arm across his brow. He was hot, his shirt was soaked through with sweat, the drops of moisture sliding from his face sizzled as they hit hot metal, but he felt the cool pinpricks of hair standing up on the back of his neck. He was being watched, the same constant feeling he had had for the last 5 years. He knew better than to look, because the feeling-his watcher-simply went away and he never gained any answers.

The only thing he knew was that he felt The Pull. Whoever was watching him was his mate, was aware they were mates for why else would they stalk him for 5 years, and would not reveal themselves to Derek. This was either because they thought Derek was human and humans did not know about shifters, or they were a man. Both options sucked.

And Derek had no clue who his mate was because The Pull was constant, but it was also unchanging, meaning he couldn’t gauge a shift in The Pull based on physical location. Lord, that would help. But, no. It was a constant, baseline hum. And he was going mad.

Daily, he’d get female admirers-they would come in, watch him work, stroke his arm to feel his “muscles”, giggle. He’d even get males who would watch him out of the corners of their eyes. But none would initiate the bonding process. So if his mate was interacting with him, they were keeping their hormones or mental control or whatever the hell kick-started a matebond, dormant. Unaccessed. Abandoned.

That’s how Derek felt, abandoned.

Not by his family. They were always there, always noisy, always loving on him, even on his grumpiest days. But his mate did not want him for whatever reason, refused to claim him, and until a werewolf was Claimed, they could not shift. Being stuck in his human form was a slap to Derek’s pride and a prison sentence to his wolf.

He had better hearing, better smell, even claws and fangs on occasion. But no wolf could fully shift until their wolf was Released by a claim. For a werewolf, it was part of their bonding ceremony. But a good number of werewolves would always be trapped in a sole-human form, because they could no longer mate without risking their lives. Derek hoped his mate wasn’t a man, because he did not want to spend a life alone, but he also did not want a woman.

He used to, but he had been taken in by the lowest of the low and put under her spell. His mate had saved him with a warning. His mate, always watchful but never forthcoming. Rejected and yet protected. Conflicted. This was why Derek had to pause with a groan of frustration, a rumble in his chest that reached up and scratched his dry throat, as he had to toss yet another mostly-finished piece of craftsmanship away. As soothing as being a blacksmith was, it also let his demons catch up to him. And, unfortunately, his demons always decided to destress instead of appreciate his hard work.

Chucking the ruined scraps of metal into the water bucket and then a growing pile in the corner, he pulled out a new sheet of metal and started again.

Stubbornly, he ignored Boyd on the other side of the furnace, shaking his head at Derek in pity.

——-

Hauling heavy things was no problem for Derek, because he was strong. Hauling his work to the castle gave him a cold sweat because Prince Stiles lived there. Prince Stiles was an annoying younger man who made Derek feel funny. Prince Stiles tied up Derek’s tongue, much to his chagrin and Stiles’ delight.

Sure enough, as he passed through the gates with his commissioned work, just in front of the castle on the stone walls around the garden, sat Stiles, leaning back on a bricked curve, chewing an apple, reading a book, and swinging his hanging leg like there was nothing better in the world he could possibly be doing.

Except maybe annoying the stuffing out of Derek.

Derek moved past Prince Stiles, ready to do his best to ignore him, but then he caught a whiff of agony. And the smallest traces of salt. The prince had been crying. Maybe not at the moment, but recently. The wolf inside Derek made him stop, grew restless.

“Prince Stiles,” Derek announced, but it came out louder than he intended and the prince startled, yelped, and promptly fell off the side of the border wall.

He came back up rubbing his flank as he rose, a hiss clacking through his teeth. It took him a few seconds to open his eyes, trying to soothe the pain before figuring out who the blazes had the audacity to cause him injury, to find his beloved. Instantly his annoyance changed to warm, fuzzy feelings, his ire forgotten, his booboos better. For how could they not be, when he got to be this close to his Bonded.

“Are you alright?” Derek asked, stepping near him.

“Oh yes, I’m okay! Thank you Mr. Hale. Quite well, actually. My bum only hurt for a moment, no big deal!” he hurried to assure him. Derek pinked up adorably.

“Oh, well that’s good! Indeed, I’m glad to hear it. But I was referring to the tear tracks on your face. Just there.” Derek reached out and gently swiped his thumb over Stiles’ cheek, compassion in his eyes. Stiles couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed (or indignant that Derek saw) that he was doing something so unmanly as cry, because he was being touched by an angel.

His eyes slid shut, and he embraced the feeling for mere moments before he abruptly stepped back. Derek must have realized the danger too, because the move was simultaneous.

“Yes, that. I’m okay, Mr. Hale.” Stiles pressed his lips together and looked at the ground, trying to keep from blubbering anew. Patient silence followed, giving Stiles the strength to speak further. “It’s just….you remember Doyle? From the bakery? And his sweet parents?” Stiles bit his lip, losing the battle, his voice squeaking, his tears releasing. Crying was to be therapeutic, but so far it wasn’t. It just wasn’t.

Derek dropped the metal he was hauling and pulled the man to him, and then for proprieties sake, dragged him, chest to chest, inside the high walls of the garden and away from the opening. Here, he could hold the man that drove him crazy but also grounded him. The man that was now breaking down and trusting Derek to see him like this. “Shhh, yes. I remember.”

His hand went up to stroke the princes head, gently, trying to soothe. Stiles’ hands came up and grasped Derek’s tunic in a death grip. “They took him!” he wailed. “He’s gone, and so is his lover. They were my friends. I don’t have many of those. And now they’re both gone and my father will do nothing.”

Derek’s heart clenched. Not only could he not ease Stiles’ pain, but those men were good men. They were part of Stiles’ clan, if Derek was not mistaken. Both red dragons. Both childhood sweethearts, having felt their bond early in life. And now they were being punished for it.

Doyle, who had eyes only for Finn, which was more than Derek could say about most married men. And Finn, who worked opposite shifts at the Blacksmith. A real stand-up guy who Derek shared his noon meal with when Finn could not provide his own. Equally devoted to his mate Doyle.

Gone.

Derek said nothing, just clung to the weeping man in his arms that much tighter, his delivery forgotten and soiled on the ground.

And Derek felt confused, because this felt a little like love.

(read the rest on AO3 soon)

#eternalstereksecretsanta17 #esss17 #sterek #fic #submission