#I could probably still get food stamps though

[llycaons]

sometimes my mom will to try to kick us off the phone plan or try to get us to pay for our own health insurance despite the fact that we're in school fulltime and some of us have literally no savings but I ALWAYS know when my dad swoops in to pay for it himself because she'll text us immediately after like "don't worry about it" whew dodged a bullet today

#it's because she wants to save money but is also planning multiple cruises 🙄 #yeah I guess health insurance for your children with medical conditions and/or mental illnesses aren't as important #as you getting to play music with *squints* alan doyle on the rhine #anyway shoutout to my dad for not cutting us off #I'd probably be okay even so since I'm getting a job in a few months but my sister has literally no money and couldn't find a job #anyway. I don't have to change apply for or even worry about health insurance thank GOD #she REALLY wanted me to be paying for it though. ma'am its like 500 a month #I was in the process of applying for medicaid when she texted me but thanks goodness I did not want to deal with that #I could probably still get food stamps though #cor.txt

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

III ║ Edgestitch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part II: Threads | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, flirting, mention of food and drink, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7k

Notes: It's here! This one was a long and winding road as I mentioned in Behind the Seams, I'm so relieved and excited when it all finally clicked and fell into place! I'm absolutely blown away by the love you guys have shown Joel and Pin so far, thank you, there's no greater motivation for a writer ❤️ I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

‘Damnit, Lucy,’ you mutter under your breath, this close to stamping your foot and pouting at the door that refuses to lock up. 

Lucy may be your best friend, but you’re not blind to the fact that she literally cannot be trusted to get anything done around the shop. It’s been two weeks since she promised to get the locksmith to come in, but here you are on Friday evening, wrestling with the key that refuses to turn the last quarter of an inch in the faulty lock.

‘Hey, Pin!’

Glancing over your shoulder, you force a wane smile at Tommy, who has his hands full with a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Need some help?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply sheepishly.

You nod at the bottles of wine that clink delicately against one another as he sets them down. ‘Getting ready for the party on Sunday?’

Tommy steps up to the door and wriggles the key left and right experimentally. ‘Yeah, you comin’, right?’

‘Yes, with Lucy.’

‘Good, the more the merrier!’ He makes a face at the door lock, which is not cooperating with him either. ‘You should get someone to look at it. Probably time for a new one.’

‘Lucy was supposed to get Andrew to fix it, but you know Luce.’

Tommy yanks the door knob backwards hard as he twists the key. There’s a grunt of metal, and a triumphant aha! when it finally turns, the internal mechanisms of the lock sliding into place with a satisfying click. 

You nearly fall onto your knees in relief. ‘Thank you so much, Tommy. You’re a lifesaver.’

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

His brother, who was so solid and broad under you on the studio floor, just a few days ago. His brother, who you can still feel pressed between your thighs, in your bed in the dead of night. His brother, who has taken up residence in your mind, waking or otherwise, since he sauntered out of your shop with that infuriatingly attractive confidence when he asked you to to wear those jeans for him again on Sunday.

Joel has existed solely and safely in the parameters of your workspace for the past fortnight and a half, with only Lucy bearing witness to whatever it is between the two of you. Having to suddenly deal with any mention of him outside of it, especially with that knowing arch of Tommy’s eyebrow, has you completely flustered. It doesn’t help that his eyes are uncannily like Joel’s, a gorgeous deep brown, expressive and sharp, though the mischief sits a lot closer to the surface in the former’s.

Mercifully, your brain unscrambles long enough for you to reach the conclusion that of course, Joel must have told Tommy that he invited you and Lucy. It’s their party, after all. Surely, he doesn’t know anything else -

Or does he?

You’ve been quiet for too long to say anything about it now, so you clumsily change the subject, stumbling over your words. ‘I, uh - I was just wondering what I could bring on Sunday?’

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

You latch on to that gratefully. ‘I do - what kind of cake were you thinking?’

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

You perk up. ‘It’s my favourite!’

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

With a wink, Tommy bends down to pick up the wine. ‘See you in a couple of days, Pin!’

At least you have the decency to wait until he turns the corner - once he does, you sprint across the road to the Jackson Grocer’s and clear out their stock of carrots for the day.

There are many things about Jackson that throw Joel. 

The plentitude after years of rations. The safety, which comes off more jarring than comforting.

But most of all, it’s the sounds. The kettle on the boil and the pop of the toaster in the morning when Ellie gets ready for school. Friendly chatter on the high street. Laughter. It still makes him jump when he hears playful shrieks in the neighbourhood playground, blood rushing in his ears and sending him halfway across the house for his rifle before he remembers where he is.

Where he is not.

It was always loud in the QZ. Loudspeakers blaring, alarms wailing, the indistinct hum of conversation and radio through paper thin walls in the slums at all hours of the day. And he was always listening - for danger, for trouble, and everything in between.

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

Joel finds it hard to remember those first few days after leaving Boston behind. Mostly the raw cuts on his knuckles that wouldn’t heal and the ring in his right ear from the explosion, lingering like a pesky fly. 

But he knows it was Ellie who broke that silence first. And once that door was kicked down - 

‘Fuck no, dude!’

His face snaps up and he scowls across the lawn, the stern reprimand rolling off his tongue like second nature. ‘Ellie!’

She’s sitting with her friends, crowded around her most prized possession of the moment, a boombox she found in the thrift shop a couple of months ago and begged him to buy and fix up for her. 

Not that she needed to do much begging, he caved far too easily. It plays a bit wonky - the bass too heavy - still, it does the trick.

The teenagers around her cower immediately, but she defiantly stands her ground. ‘What?’

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

She rolls her eyes so hard her head falls back, and he has to press his lips together to not smile.

It helps him sleep better at night seeing Ellie fit right in - at least one of them has. She doesn’t hate going to school half as much as she pretends to, the routine of homework and chores anchoring her to small town life. She’s even volunteered to help out at the farm, spending most afternoons in the stables with the horses.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

And while Joel still hasn’t made up his mind about Jackson, its townsfolk seem to have unilaterally made theirs up about him. The wary whispers and watchful stares have given way to cautious gestures of acknowledgement, some even bold enough to throw a good morning in his general direction as he walks down the street. 

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

The expectant parents have gone all out for the occasion. Several tables are lined up end to end in the middle of the garden, filling up with potluck dishes as guests arrive. Tommy lords over the barbeque, the brisket having been smoking since dawn, with chicken, bacon and homemade sausages sizzling on the grill. Maria is in her element, flitting from well wisher to well wisher with a protective hand over her rounded belly, making sure everyone has a drink and a loaded plate in hand.

Joel hovers in no man’s land, dodging the crowds and sipping on beer that has long gone flat, trying to remember the last time he celebrated anything. 

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

A strong hand on his back jolts him forward and out of his thoughts, spilling lukewarm beer over his fingers.

‘Havin’ a good time, brother?’ asks Tommy jovially, cheeks stretched with joy.

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

Tommy grins. ‘Lighten up, man. Get drunk, be merry! You’re gonna be an uncle.’

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Thumping his chest in mock hurt, he asks, ‘What about all those times I babysat Sarah, man?’

Joel gives him a long-suffering side stare. ‘Please. You used to hire that college chick ‘cross the street to babysit whenever you were supposed to. Then you’d hit on her all night long.’

Tommy chuckles. ‘Damn, your mind’s in better shape than I give you credit for, old man.’

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

He goes quiet for a beat and takes a sip of his beer, his eyes softening. ‘I think about that girl every single day, y’know.’ 

Joel nods, staring into his own beer, and it suddenly strikes him that he’s missed the shape of her name on his lips. ‘I know.’

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

Tommy chortles just as the backdoor to the porch swings open with a loud creak.

Joel spots you easily, trailing one step behind Lucy. You’re holding onto a cake on a round wooden board like a security blanket, shoulders tense and eyes wide at the noise of the festivities. Spotting Maria, Lucy bounds down the stairs, leaving you hesitating at the landing, and -

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

Something primal swells in the cavity of his chest, between his ribs - a pride that is distinctly male.

Tommy shouts, ‘Pin! Over here!’

Joel shifts on his feet, swallowing thickly as you approach. If your shy smile is anything to go by, he’s not the only one feeling the nerves.

His brother gives you a careful hug around the cake and plants a kiss on your cheek. When he steps aside, Joel hesitates, uneasy with having an audience, his palms suddenly clammy with indecision.

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Tommy elbows him in the ribs and puts him out of his misery. ‘Why don’t you kids catch up, I think the brisket’s burnin’. Have fun tonight!’

Joel can feel the tip of his ears turning red as he stands there with his drink, one hand shoved in his back pocket, not knowing how to do this. How to entertain. Clearing his throat, he stammers, ‘Uh - can I get you a drink or somethin’?’

You give him a small smile, lips moving in an answer too quiet to reach him over the music. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he admits, ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m uh - a bit deaf in my right ear.’

You look apologetic, speaking up, ‘I’m sorry - I didn’t know.’

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

You pinch your lips, and he recoginses that face - he knows that you want to disagree with him. But you hold your tongue, skirting around him to his good ear, and he stoops to close the distance, even though he doesn’t need to.

Your breath brushes his ear. ‘I’d love a drink, but I want to put this cake away first.’

‘Yes, of course - sorry, don’t know where my manners went.’ He puts his unfinished beer away and takes the cake from you despite your protests. The potluck table is packed to the brim, so he gestures towards the house. ‘It might have to go into the kitchen for now.’

You follow him, side by side with one polite body width between you, past bands of neighbours and friends catching up, the fairy lights catching your eyes and the well-kept lawn crunching beneath your soles. Unsurprisingly, you feel the weight of curious stares on your back as you go - Joel is still very much a novelty around town. Neither of you speak until he holds open the backdoor for you to slip inside.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the muted conversation outside a low hum through the double-glazed windows. The free-standing island is already chock full of all kinds of baked goods and pudding, and Joel has to move an actual jelly castle (which wriggles precariously) to free up space for your contribution.

Dusting his hands, Joel turns to you. ‘That carrot cake?’

You nod, keeping mum.

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘I know - Tommy told me,’ you confess with a bashful half-shrug.

His warm eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Talkin’ about me behind my back, sweetheart?’

Your breath quickens at the sweetheart, and you wonder if the thrill of the nickname will ever wear thin. Emboldened, you tilt your head to one side and tease, ‘Why? You like the attention?’

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

And there you are again - with nothing more than a dozen words exchanged and even more unsaid - on the brink of something, right where you left off on the workshop floor.

‘Wanna grab a bite to eat?’

Tucked away in an intimate corner of the back porch in a wicker chair, Joel surveys the party with a seriousness that is borderline comical. 

The strategist in him clearly favours the higher ground the porch affords him so he can keep an eye on everyone and spot whoever approaches from a distance. His seat is an easy three steps to the door, an escape plan in his back pocket. For all his stillness, the intensity is unmistakable, if slightly out of place in a baby shower.

Two dirty plates licked clean are stacked on the coffee table between you, piled high with bones and leftover gravy, the delicious food sitting warm in your stomach.

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

Your shoulders quake with a chuckle. ‘I think you’re too much of a gentleman to do that, Joel Miller.’

You’re taken aback by the flash of heat in his answering glance, as if there’s something he wants to say. But then, he changes his mind and leans back in his chair, one palm resting on his spread thighs, and he nods towards a couple standing close to the barbeque.

‘Who’s that over there? He lives on my street.’

‘That’s Andrew. He owns the only hot tub in Jackson.’

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

‘To be fair, it came with his house, but he managed to connect it to the water a few months ago.’

He snorts. ‘Not very communist of him to divert public resources for a private hot tub.’

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

He arches an eyebrow at you. ‘A cynic, sweetheart?’

You reply matter-of-factly, ‘We all know how communism ended.’

Fuck. He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. A woman after his own heart.

‘You want to keep him on your good side though. He’s really handy with electrics and the like.’

He shrugs. ‘So am I.’

You turn to him, surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

He notices your attention flicker to his hands, before you catch yourself and look away bashfully. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘You need things fixed?’ he asks, and promptly wants to kick himself for sounding so hopeful to be of service.

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. You have to work on asking for things, but it’s ok - he doesn’t push you. He files that away for later.

Glancing across the yard, he catches Ellie’s eye, who’s arching an inquisitive eyebrow and pointing straight at you with all the subtlety of a flying brick. He knows he should probably introduce you at some point, but he’s not ready to share your attention with someone else just yet, let alone the nosy teenage loudmouth.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

Ignoring her for now - and knowing that he’ll pay for it later - he asks you, ‘And who’s that in the red dress?’

You crane your neck until you spot her. ‘Ah, that’s Patricia. She’s the dance teacher down at the school.’

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

You shoot him an amused grin. ‘Why, it looks like you’ve caught the fancy of our local femme fatale.’

He scoffs. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Well, she’s been married and divorced three times since she arrived,’ you answer with a straight face. ‘The last one just disappeared. Never found his body.’

Joel stares at you in stunned silence, until you let out a poorly contained giggle. He grumbles, ‘Havin’ fun pullin’ my leg, sweetheart?’

‘Just a bit,’ you tease.

‘I liked you better when you were shy,’ he ribs.

You shrug. ‘Too late. You don’t scare me anymore.’

Glancing the other way, Joel sits up in alarm at the flutter of crimson fabric. ‘Shit, I think she’s comin’ this way.’

‘Time for carrot cake?’ you prompt.

He’s out of his chair quicker than you’d expect his knees would allow him to. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

The state of the kitchen island stops you in your tracks, while Joel lets out a low whistle behind you. ‘Jackson really turned out for this party, huh?’

‘Well, your brother and sister-in-law are pretty popular around town,’ you quip.

You didn’t think it was possible, but every square inch of the kitchen island is now jam-packed with sugary confections, stacked on top of one another.

‘I can’t even find the bloody cake,’ you laugh, literally searching high and low as you skirt the parameter.

On the other side of the island, Joel tosses a dry good luck in your direction and puts the dirty plates and cutlery that he brought in into the sink with a clatter, turning on the hot water. You stutter to a stop opposite him, gawking at how his broad shoulders fill the frame of the window that sits in front of the sink, before your gaze inadvertently trails south - over the nip of his waist and the hem of his shirt skirting the back pockets of his jeans. You find yourself wishing he’d tucked the tails in.

Rooted to the spot, you watch him unbutton the cuffs on his flannel shirt and push up the sleeves to the crease of his elbows, baring his strong forearms. Your mouth goes dry despite the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening, peering at the sinewy muscles flexing and straining as he lathers the plates with an offhand familiarity, his thick fingers dwarfing the sponge in as he works the grease stains. 

Making quick but thorough work of the washing up, Joel dries the plates and then runs the tea towel over his big hands and wrists, catching you staring as he turns around. If he knows you’ve been watching all along, he lets it slide. Tossing the towel to one side, heat prickles under your cheeks when he sidles up to you with the clean plates.

The sight of this man doing something as mundane as dishes really shouldn’t get you this hot and bothered.

‘Is that cream cheese?’ he asks conversationally with a nod at your cake, which you have found sitting on top of a tall plastic caddy, a chocolate cake inside.

Having to consciously unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you’re surprised your voice doesn’t shake. ‘It’s not carrot cake without it.’

‘Where did you get the cream cheese? Never seen any ‘round town.’

Almost bashful, you admit, ‘I made it.’

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

‘And the walnuts?’ he asks.

‘Someone I know grows it,’ you say vaguely.

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Biting your bottom lip, you can pinpoint the exact moment he figures it out, brows drawing together in a frown. ‘The only ones I’ve seen are outside the walls, ‘round the north side of the gates.’

Knowing for a fact that you’re a terrible liar, you don’t even try. You choose to ignore him, idly smoothing the frosting on top with a clean knife, trying not to flinch at the weight of his gaze on you.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t go outside just to get walnuts for me.’

‘Not for you,’ you shoot back unconvincingly, flustered. ‘I made the cake for Tommy and Maria.’

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

His shoulders stiffen, the fabric of his shirt bunching with the movement. ‘You can’t just go outside like that, y’know, there could be infected ‘round -’

‘Joel, I’ve been living here for years, I know what I’m doing,’ you argue huffily, not expecting a lecture, of all things. ‘I’m not stupid.’

He shakes his head. ‘Ain’t what I’m sayin’, Pin -’

‘Just leave it, ok?’ you reply sharply and, signalling an end to the conversation, you slice into the cake with an aggressive stab - not noticing that it is hanging over the edge of the caddy below. 

You squeak when it flips unceremoniously, and on pure impulse, you pitch forward to stop its upward trajectory, meeting it mid-air with an ominous splat.

‘Fuck!’

To his credit, Joel barely skips a beat, quickly but calmly grabbing hold of the cake board and pulling it off you, setting it down on the counter, while you gape in dismay at the damage done. 

The side of the cake that made contact with you is smushed in, most of the thick frosting now painted all over your front, from your neck down to the lovely, thin cashmere top that Lucy picked out for you for the party.

You really hope there’s a big guy up there watching, because someone might as well enjoy this mortifying brand of comedy you keep dishing out around this man.

Two seconds more, and you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst into tears for lack of knowing what else to do - but without another word, Joel takes the lead, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. 

You gratefully let him.

It’s none of your business really, but it comforts you that Joel’s obviously here often enough to know his way around the house.

You glance around the dimly lit room where he deposited you on the edge of a neatly made bed, water trickling in the adjoining ensuite. When he returns, he has a small, wet towel in his hands. Towering over you, the low lights don’t quite reach his face, but you can see the way his gaze slips downwards, carefully, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

But he doesn’t - not even when he slides the crook of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up and opening up your throat.

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes you at the absurdity of the situation. ‘Must something always go wrong whenever we’re in the same room?’

The corner of his mouth teases a smile. ‘Never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

You smile back, but it falters when his eyes burn in a quiet but unmistakable smoulder. 

‘May I?’

You’re not even sure what he’s asking. But he can ask you anything in that raspy, low baritone, and there will always only be one answer.

At your nod, Joel drags the tip of his index finger down the column of your neck, and your lips part when it glides over your windpipe - pressing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure - collecting the velvety frosting as it goes. 

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

You’re sitting down, but somehow, you still feel your knees give way at how he smacks his lips at the sugary aftertaste.

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

At the prospect of those plush lips and the burn of his silvered, patchy beard on your skin, your head tilts further back invitingly. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, like he’s picking up on what you’re thinking, and his eyes dip to your mouth.

But he doesn’t.

You don’t even have time to be disappointed before Joel carefully gets down on one knee in front of you, one palm landing on the mattress next to your hip for balance. Knowing the state of his joints, you want to ask if he needs a pillow, but instead of your mouth, it’s your thighs that part to make room for him. His chest keeps them splayed open, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his ribcage with each breath through the denim. 

You try to focus on your own breathing as Joel presses the wet towel to your skin and mops up the sticky mess, his face set seriously as he cleans you up inch by inch. But all you can think about is how you can feel the imprint of his fingers through the thin fabric, and how the span of his hand can easily fit over the column of your throat -

You don’t realise you’re leaning into him until he draws back when he’s done, and you tip forward, chasing his touch. His knee groans as he stands up to his full height, and he nods towards the bathroom with a wait here in his eyes.

The water is scalding as Joel washes out the frosting from the towel, but he keeps his hands under the tap, longer than he needs to. Wringing it dry, he takes a moment, wet palms gripping the cold porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, shoulders hunched over as he tells himself to calm the fuck down.

Except, he is calm. He’s held back, even when you looked at him with such straightforward, honest want that has him grinding his teeth.

Thing is, he knows you would’ve let him nudge you backwards into the mattress and crowd you between his arms, switching places the two of you were in under your sewing desk in the workshop.

He knows you would’ve let him wrap your legs around his hips, sliding his palms up the back of your thighs in those skin tight jeans - the sight of which is enough to make his head spin - and he knows you would’ve let him nip, suck, lick the tangy buttercream off your very neck. 

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

That last realisation awakens something he’s not so sure he has a handle on. But he knows for a fact that with the whole of Jackson milling about downstairs, in the middle of his brother’s baby shower, is neither the place nor the time.

You’re where he left you when he steps back into the bedroom, your palms planted on the bed, your shoulders relaxed. The neckline of your blouse gapes loosely, teasing the soft skin of your cleavage.

Joel breaks the loaded silence with a bit of common sense. ‘You best get that top off and soak it in the bath before the stains really set in, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip hesitantly. ‘I - I don’t have anything to change into.’

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

You sit up, attention piqued, when his hands move to the top of his flannel, thick fingers sliding each button out of the holes one by one. You know he’s just taking off his shirt, but you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack, watching shamelessly, the comforter twisting in your grip as you scrabble for something to hold onto. 

Joel doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, but it’s so flattering to watch you watch him, eyes hooded and your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, like he’s giving you a fucking strip tease or something. 

Goddamn if it doesn’t go straight to his head.

A white undervest comes into view, inch by inch, as the shirt falls open, the thin fabric pulled taut at the seams over the broad stretch of his chest. When the last button is undone, he shrugs the shirt off with a smooth roll of his arms, and your jaw drops.

The undervest barely contains the bulk of him, and you’ll be damned if you know where to look first - the lean, solid line of his arms, or the effortless ripple of muscle in his shoulders - but it’s lower where your attention makes landing, and it takes you a second to realise why.

He’s not sucking in his tummy.

The swell of his abdomen sits above the top of his jeans, where the vest is neatly tucked in. You remember too well the brush of that soft strip of skin against the back of your hands when you were on your knees, cutting him out of his jeans; and then beneath you, straddling him under the sewing table. 

While there’s an undercurrent of self-consciousness in the way he holds himself, conspicuously missing is the self-deprecation that drew your ire the day he walked into your shop with a broken zipper. A tentative confidence has taken its place, which is at the same time so endearingly vulnerable, as if your reaction to the little show he gave you just now isn’t enough to assure him of what you’re thinking.

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

Or maybe, the calling southwards will win out. You’ll push him back to make room for yourself at his feet, nudging your way down his front with your nose, breathe him in, your hands finding his belt buckle and tugging it out of the loops instead. Never mind you've lost count of how many years it's been since you've wanted to do that, or if you remember how at all -

‘Pin.’

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

‘Get changed, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving your top to soak in the sink, you pad back into the bedroom in just your bra, and you stare down at his shirt laid out neatly on top of the bed.

You press your palm over where his heart would be, the flannel still warm. For one indulgent moment, you pick up the shirt and hug it to you. It smells like him - the outdoors, a crisp spring day, with a whiff of the barbeque smoke from downstairs. You bury your nose into the soft fabric, eyes closed, imagining the weight and shape of him in it. 

Even as you put your arms through the sleeves to button it up, you already know it will be hard giving it back. You leave the last three buttons undone and you’ve just tied up the too-long ends in a double knot when there’s a polite but firm knock on the door. 

‘You decent?’

‘Yes.’

You hope your face doesn’t fall too obviously at the sight of Joel wearing a shirt again, probably one borrowed from Tommy. He leaves it unbuttoned though, which is small consolation. The air hums between you with stolen glances and words unsaid.

‘You wore those jeans for me,’ he says suddenly.

The for me rolls off his tongue coated in his delectable Southern drawl and a heady satisfaction.

You decide to be brave and shrug one shoulder in a show of attitude. ‘It was the only thing I didn’t have in the wash.’

His grin makes your heart swell. Stepping out of the open doorway, his eyes trailing heat where they linger over you, he says, ‘You look good in my shirt, sweetheart. Real good.’

You bite your lower lip at the compliment, replying shyly, ‘I like this look on you too.’

‘Used to be Tommy’s uniform during our contractor days,’ he reminiscences. ‘I’m just missing the utility belt.’

Oh. You actually find it offensive that the fleeting mention of something as banal as a utility belt should get you going like this. You try to palm off a non-committal hum, but your body betrays you with a strangled choking sound that gives you away.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

Your cheeks grow hot as both his palms latch boldly onto your hips, and you swear you can feel the burn of his fingertips through the denim, a moan gargling in your throat as your ability to form words abandons you.

‘That a yes?’ he prompts, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops in your jeans and tugging your body flush against his, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive crook of your neck as he speaks into your ear.

‘Joel,’ you whine, which is the best you can do right now, grabbing onto the open flaps of his shirt just to stay upright.

You feel the rumble that goes through his chest under your palms when he purrs, smiling down at you, head cocked to one side with a playful condescension that’s going to be the end of you. ‘Yes, Pin?’

Your mouth opens, but you’ll never get to find out what you intended to say, because you hear it first - his right ear is to the door - the thunder of rubber soles on the stairs, and you're lucky you manage to stumble two steps back before a deafening (no pun intended), drawn-out call of his name follows.

‘JOOOOOOELLLL!’

Ellie crashes into the doorway with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, slightly out of breath like she’s been running all over the place searching for him, already in the middle of a sentence, as usual. 

‘- also Maria says they’re doing a speech now and you’re not getting out of -’ she breaks off abruptly when she spots you, eyes wide and brows - all one and a half of them - reaching for her hairline. ‘Oh shiiiiiit.’

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the resignation in his tone as the teenager wrinkles her nose. ‘Pin? That’s a weird name.’

‘Ellie!’

You smile. ‘It’s ok. Pin's just my nickname. I’m a seamstress at the Main Street Outfitters.’

Her face lights up excitedly, an open book if you’ve ever seen one. ‘No shit! I’ve been bugging Joel for a leather jacket for ages. Can I get one?’

‘Please,’ he interjects.

Ellie tucks in her chin and juts out her bottom lip at you. ‘Please?’

You demur. ‘Well, it depends on what you can trade in for it.’

‘My boombox!’ she volunteers without skipping a beat. 

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

‘Sorry, man, but I can’t wear a boombox can I?’ she argues.

Giving Joel an amused look, you come to his rescue. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but we only take clothes in exchange.’ At the way she deflates, you counteroffer, ‘Or, you can come work at the shop on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Lucy always needs help out front, and you get a staff discount.’

He turns to you, protesting, ‘That’s very kind, but it ain’t necessary -’

Ellie cuts in, rushing up to you to shake your hand before you can take it back. ‘Deal! When can I start?’

‘There’s no rush,’ you reply with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get back to you next week.’

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

Joel groans at the terrible pun. ‘Get outta here!’

She cackles, firing triumphant finger guns at you as she retreats. ‘What? Pin liked it, she laughed! You’re no fun old man!’ 

She then pauses by the door, her eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on something smeared on your jeans. ‘Wait - what’s that white stuff on your leg?’

‘It’s cream cheese, you little shit!’ Joel snaps as your ears burn in embarrassment. ‘Out!’

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

‘ELLIE!’

She throws her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m gone, I’m gone! See ya Pin!’

Joel is the very picture of an embarrassed dad, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. ‘Sorry, she’s a handful.’

You grin, ‘She’s just a teenager.’

‘You can say that again.’

The quiet seems louder after Ellie, and you restlessly pick at the sleeves. Lifting your eyes shyly, it seems the moment has passed - but Joel has other ideas.

‘C’mere,’ he hums, drawing you close again with one hand on your waist, peering down at you through his lashes. ‘This ok?’

At your nod, he brushes his thumb on your bottom lip, catching the soft plump skin, and your tongue darts out to taste him, his eyes darkening.

‘Can I kiss you, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice hoarse.

It’s been years. Years since anyone has cared enough to kiss you, let alone cared enough to ask if they could. And it’s as if he knows - you don’t know if you’ve somehow given it away, or maybe it’s just him. 

‘Yes, Joel.’

He coaxes you closer so that you’re pressed along the whole length of him. His big palms are warm and solid on the small of your back, holding you to him like he intends for you to have trouble standing after he’s done with you. 

The tip of his nose bumps into your cheek, nudging its way across and down, and your eyes slide shut when his shaky exhale grazes your gently parted mouth. Your breath hitches at the sweet burn of his beard on your jaw, fingers grabbing onto the scruff of his neck when he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.

For a man as hardened as Joel Miller, he sure kisses soft. He steals a whimper straight from your throat with nothing more than the clever angling of his lips, the slow drag of tongue on tongue, and a growl deep in his windpipe that you answer with your own moan.

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, beaming despite yourself.

‘You really know how to flatter a guy, sweetheart,’ he answers, his voice warming you like a smokey campfire, steadying by his hands on your hips.

‘We should probably go before Ellie comes back for us,’ you say reluctantly.

Joel huffs, ‘Ain’t gonna hear the end of it if she does.’

‘Something tells me you won’t be hearing the end of it tonight anyway,’ you tease.

He chucks you gently under the chin, his eyes soft. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

‘Had some trouble with the cake,’ you answer vaguely.

‘Sure,’ she winks at you, unconvinced. ‘If we’re calling him that.’

Right on cue, Joel strides across the lawn with three plates to join you. ‘Thought you might want some of Pin’s carrot cake.’

‘Such a gentleman, Joel Miller,’ chirps Lucy, making what can only be described as a 'thirst face' at you when his back is turned to her.

‘Thanks, Joel,’ you smile at him, letting your fingers graze his deliberately when you take the plate from him.

Saluting you with a forkful of cake, he says, ‘Thank you for bakin’, sweetheart.’

You watch as his lips close around the fork, dragging the cake clean off the slots, cream cheese smearing the corner of his mouth. He frowns, as if in deep pain as he chews, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.

‘Okay?’ you ask nervously, your slice still untouched.

‘Perfect,’ he declares, already having a second, bigger bite. Knowing he doesn’t have a superfluous bone in his body, your chest warms at his words.

‘Wait a second,’ Lucy interrupts, bringing up her plate to inspect it closely. ‘Why does the cake look all wonky?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Luce,’ you answer coolly, taking a bite yourself.

Humming around a mouthful of moist crumb, the sweet carrot balanced out by the tangy frosting, you meet Joel’s eyes in the soft glow of fairy lights, and he flashes you a conspiratorial smile that makes you grin.

More notes: On Ellie - I was so so nervous about writing our resident teenage badass. I hope I've done her justice, I certainly had a lot of fun writing her introduction to Pin! If you're interested in a detailed deep dive into my process writing this chapter, I do recommend you read the Behind the Seams for this part ❤️

I also went back and forth on the tone and style of this chapter a lot. I wasn’t happy with the way it read, probably still not 100% happy. I like the way Seams and Threads were written better, but the fact is that this chapter is a very different setting and narrative compared to the first two, so I’m trying to be too hard on myself.

So, I have some ideas for where the story will go from here, but nothing concrete. As I've mentioned, I see this fic as more of a loose-fit series, so there's no overarching plot per se, but there's definitely a lot of room for future episodes of these two - I mean, they haven't even done the deed yet 😉

Comments, asks and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so excited to hear what you guys thought of this chapter 😘

#fuckyeahseams #seams iii #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fic

[suzukiblu]

Tim?

Tim did not actually mean to kidnap an alternate reality's version of Kon.

In his defense, he'd had very limited time in that reality and everything in it had been going to shit and . . . well, everything in it had been going to shit.

Also, Lex Luthor had been a lot more heavily involved in that particular reality's Cadmus, and fuck it if Tim was ever going to leave any version of Kon with that bastard.

With any bastard who could ever look at Kon and call him "it".

"Ow," Tim grunts into the dirty pavement of what he hopes is his own Gotham as blood drips out of his mouth, and feels Kon's fingertips brush very, very tentatively against his back. He's a little too dizzy to lift his head, but he figures it doesn't matter. Like it's just . . . it's fine. They're not in Cadmus and Kon is safe and Tim is . . . conscious, at least, which means he can work with the situation.

Whatever the situation actually is, anyway.

Kon's hands flatten against his back, which is a very familiar tell, and Tim immediately feels the even more familiar embrace of TTK wrapping him up.

Less familiar is the impulse to find said embrace adorable, but in Tim's defense, this Kon is physiologically about ten years old and so far every single thing he's done has been either adorable or heartbreaking or some terrible combination of the two.

"Robin?" Kon asks anxiously. "You're okay, right?"

"M'okay," Tim mumbles blurrily, because it's more or less true. More blood drips out of his mouth and splatters on the pavement. "All okay. S'fine. You hurt?"

"No," Kon says, still sounding nervous. "Dunno where we are, though."

"Should be Gotham," Tim says, forcing himself to lift his head enough to check and nearly laughing as he recognizes their surroundings as the exact part of Crime Alley that he got interdimensionally yanked out of seventy-six hours ago. "Yeah. Gotham."

He pushes himself up enough to look over at Kon. Kon looks very small crouched down next to him with buzzed-down hair, barefoot in pristine white lab scrubs with a shiny metal cuff stamped with an identification number locked around his wrist. "13" features prominently on it.

Tim wants to melt it into slag.

"Is it your Gotham?" Kon asks.

"No clue, but I'm hoping," Tim says. He thinks about getting to his feet but he's pretty sure he'd throw up if he tried. Or fall over. Or both?

Probably both, at this point.

Oh well, he figures, and pushes himself up. He doesn't vomit, surprisingly, although he is very definitely sure that Kon's TTK is the only thing keeping him from falling over.

No reason to look that particular gift horse in the mouth, Tim decides.

"I need coffee," he says as he gives Kon's shoulder an appreciative pat, because the caffeine withdrawal is real. Also he needs medical attention, probably, but also-also he needs to come up with either a cover story for the ER or an explanation for Bruce and therefore caffeine can't hurt.

"Uh, okay," Kon says skeptically. "I don't think Starbucks or anything is gonna be open right now, though, it's pretty late."

"God, what did Cadmus teach you, kid," Tim says despairingly, making a face at the thought. "Starbucks is a punishment from God. We're going to the nearest twenty-four diner and I'm ordering roofing tar. And we're getting you a hot chocolate. Do you want a hot chocolate?"

". . . yeah," Kon says, biting his lip. "Um. I mean, I dunno if I'd like it, though."

"If you don't like it, we'll get you something else," Tim says. "But I haven't slept or eaten properly since I left my reality and I need coffee before it becomes a legitimate medical emergency."

"Shouldn't you get, like, real food, then?" Kon asks skeptically. "Not just coffee?"

"Coffee is food," Tim lies reflexively.

". . . I don't think it is," Kon says, squinting up at him suspiciously. "Are you taking advantage of me being too stupid to know if coffee's food or not?"

". . . we can get something to go," Tim says, wishing he'd blown up a bit more of Cadmus on his way out of that fucking cesspool of a reality. "You're not stupid. Luthor can choke on a fucking cactus for all the shit he kept saying to you."

"I mean, I didn't come out right," Kon says uncomfortably. "I'm not as smart as Dadd–as Lex is. Or as Superman was."

Tim pretends that Kon wasn't about to say "Daddy" for both their sakes. Just . . . yeah. At least for the moment, anyway.

Luthor was a lot more heavily involved in that Cadmus.

And horrifyingly.

Tim tries not to think about the way that Luthor had kept touching Kon. All the little too-deliberate points of contact he'd made time and again and too often.

Much too often.

Tim hadn't seen anyone else even so much as enter Kon's personal space the entire time he'd been in that godforsaken lab, and every single time that Luthor had made a gesture like he might touch him, Kon had tensed in something that couldn't decide between being fear or anticipation.

It'd made Tim want to burn the whole fucking lab and every single LexCorp-owned building he could find to the ground.

He'd settled for interdimensionally kidnapping Kon and destroying all of Cadmus's systems and DNA samples as thoroughly as possible. C-4 had been involved.

A lot of C-4 had been involved.

Possibly that had been a slight overreaction, but fuck if Tim cares. Just–Clark had still been dead, and Cassie hadn't had powers and Bart hadn't been in the time period and Tim himself hadn't even existed, for whatever reason, and apparently neither had Cissie or Greta or Anita or Slobo, and Bruce had already had his hands full with Damian and Dick had been off-planet and Jason had also still been dead and just–

Options had been limited, alright?

Options had been limited, and by that point Tim hadn't had time to go check and see what the Kents were up to or track down Lois Lane or Jimmy Olsen or even just tip off the Justice League or the Titans, because by that point he'd been in an examination room with a Lex Luthor who was stroking a frightened Kon's face with one hand while holding a syringe that was glowing kryptonite-green with the other and Tim had just . . . he'd just made some choices at that point, okay?

He'd made some very decisive choices.

And some very decisive commitments.

Or at least one very decisive commitment, anyway.

#dc robin #tim drake #superboy #kon el #conner kent #rinfic #anonymous #long post #implied molestation #implied abuse #wip: interdimensional kidnapping via robin

[idksmtms]

The Prettiest Trophy - Capitol Elite!Aegon II Targaryen x Games Winner!reader (Hunger Games AU)

Summary: You never thought you would make it out of the hunger games, but now you have another fight ahead of you. What do you do when one of the most powerful citizens of the capitol has chosen you to be his? 

Word count: 3.5k 

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, Dub-con due to power imbalance, coercion too ig (???), some angst (reader talks about survivor’s guilt from the games),  p in v s*x, unprotected s*x, oral f receiving, degradation (constantly referring to lesser status of districts), objectification and ownership,  (please let me know if I missed any) 

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :) 

AN: Aaaaa my first fic finally! Didn't mean to make it this long but I got a bit carried away! I hope you enjoy! (Side note: I was imagining his hair as the style in the black and white pic, just with Targaryen white, Side note 2: I def realise the references to the way Gollum talks about the ring, IT WAS ON PURPOSE)

You never thought you would leave the arena. Every second could have been your last and you still didn’t quite believe you had made it out, that you were standing outside the President’s mansion at a lavish party, dressed in silks and jewels. No one told you how to live after the games were over. It had taken you three days just to be able to get out of bed and move around again after leaving the arena. Being at this party? It felt like a betrayal to all the people who had died so you could live. You sipped from the sickly sweet drink that almost seemed to glow in the night, and looked around the garden. 

Most people had finally left you alone thankfully, though you could still see eyes turning your way, whispers and conversations pointed toward your presence in the garden. At least no one was trying to force you into a picture like some capitol celebrity anymore. 

People in the most lavish costumes customary of the capitol milled about, talking, whispering, cackling like witches in their modified bodies with their modified voices. It was a horror show. The gardens had been decorated with delicate yellow fairy lights strung up in the trees and over poles around the tables. You assumed they wanted to give it a warm and welcoming look with the yellow lighting but it only cast grotesque shadows on the building that was not only the backdrop to this party, but to all your nightmares. There were tables set up with stark white tablecloths draped over them, an area cleared away for a dance floor, and more noise coming from the entrance to the mansion. Avoxes walked around carrying trays of food and drink between their hands, heads bent low, and shame began to rise inside you. What were you doing here? Why were you forced to be here?

There was someone behind you. You didn’t know when you had become so aware of any presence, probably somewhere between fending off humans and wildlife alike in the arena, and you could distinctly feel someone behind you. A slight shadow fell over your shoulders. A small touch rustled the train of your dress. Someone cleared their throat. You turned around, hands quivering, and looked at the man smirking broadly at you. Your first thought, shamefully: was he even real? 

His hair was so blond it was white, cut short and combed back so perfectly he could be no less than an aristocrat. He wore a suit of dark grey over a black shirt, one of the less eccentrically dressed people at the party. But his shoes were lavish. Black and shinier than anything you had ever seen, embroidered with gold thread, gold jewellery dangling from the laces and gems stamped into the fabric. Surely this man was of the richest of the rich, because even in the capitol people were wont to have shoes so lavish. You stared at his shoes for a good minute, whole body frozen, when he cleared his throat once more. You looked at his eyes. You couldn’t tell if they were more blue or grey, like ice had formed over a stormy ocean. 

“And who might you be?” He asked, mouth still smiling, before he brought his glass up to his lips and took a drink while waiting for your answer. 

“You don’t know who I am?” You asked, almost taking a step back. That couldn’t be true. Viewing was mandatory, your face had been plastered across every screen in Panem for weeks, it couldn’t be true that he didn’t know you. And yet… for a moment… it felt so good not to be recognised. You were just some other girl, lost in the crowd at a party, who hadn’t gone through what you had gone through. 

“Well, I may know of you, but I don’t know you know you,” his smile had softened and he stepped closer until his elbow lightly brushed yours and you were both looking out at the party.

“I suppose that’s true,” you answered quietly, still watching his face. His skin was almost as dangerously pale as his hair, and sallow, like he was never quite in the best of health. Though you couldn’t deny the truth, he was a handsome man regardless of his slightly ragged appearance. 

“Aegon Targaryen the second,” he held out his hand, running his eyes over your face like he hadn’t gathered enough of it the first time, “and you?” 

“Y/n L/n,” you breathed out, reaching out an unsteady hand to limply shake his own. He gently clasped your fingers and brought your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your knuckles before releasing your hand. It was such an odd sensation, his hot breath brushing over the back of your hand, his fingertips slightly rough - but not enough to suggest any sort of manual labour - clasping the skin of your palm. Your cheeks went hot, the tips of your ears tingling, and you continued staring at this enigma. 

“How has the capitol been treating you?” He asked, chugging the rest of his drink and depositing it on the tray of an Avox as they passed by like some well-practised dance. You didn’t want to reply. “Well, I suppose you haven’t had the time to truly enjoy it. At least, not the truly fun bits anyway,” he shrugged, tilting his head and looking at you like it was a particularly amusing thing he just said. 

You couldn’t understand this at all. Who was this man? What was this interaction? What did he want with you? Why was he acting so mundane, like this was normal?! None of this was normal. 

Noticing the look on your face, Aegon chuckled and reached forward to push some hair over your shoulder. It took everything within you to hold in your shiver. 

“Ah, you must be confused about who I am! I shouldn’t have assumed you would understand the name Targaryen. We may be famous in the capitol but who knows what goes on in the districts,” you swallowed hard and nodded, trying not to flinch at the dig. “Our family works in all sorts of sectors, for example, my uncle Daemon is responsible for manufacturing arms for the state, my younger brother Aemond works under the president in some position or other - god knows he never shuts up about it - and my father currently runs the peacekeeper program. Of course I’m expected to step up to that eventually but- I won’t bore you with the details.” 

You didn’t really consider that work. You had seen the way your parents toiled in the factory every day, had seen the way every member of your family slowly became a hunchback from their work. But you weren’t going to say anything to him. 

“What does your family do?” He asked, and again you almost moved out of surprise. His face seemed so sincere as he watched you, waiting for an answer. 

“I’m from District 8, so my parents work the looms,” you answered slowly. You almost sounded condescending, like you were talking to someone who couldn’t quite understand your words, but Aegon understood it was the shock of him speaking to you. After all, it had only been a week since you had left the arena, he understood how difficult it would be to gain your confidence. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. And Aegon was a firm believer that flattery could get you anywhere, especially a girl’s bed. So he decided to change course. 

“Do you see that man over there?” He pointed discreetly to a spot just to your right and you shuffled back so you could look over without being noticed. You sipped from your glass as you noticed the man, an older gentleman wearing a full fursuit topped with a lion’s mane going around his head. Even his face had been painted with fur and whiskers to resemble a lion with the body of a human. You nodded to Aegon, turning away from the man. Something about that picture made you uncomfortable in a way you had never been before. “Well, rumour has it that he wears that entire get up, face paint and all mind you, every time he fucks.” You gasped, staring at Aegon with eyes so wide they started to hurt. 

“You can’t be serious,” you whispered sharply. 

“I am the most serious, dearest. Why would I lie to you?” He smirked, leaning closer once more. He draped his arm over your shoulder and you stiffened for a moment before continuing to listen to his next story. 

You were slowly beginning to relax in Aegon’s company as he continued to chatter to you. He no longer asked questions or expected you to speak, just pointed out people in the crowd and made colourful commentary that had you hiding your face in his shoulder and giggling against the fabric of his suit. He gazed at you with sparkling eyes full of mirth and shared his ever-full glass of whatever drink they were serving at the time. You couldn’t help but be charmed. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone in the capitol was as bad as they seemed. 

“D’you wanna go somewhere quieter?” He finally asked after completely relieving another stranger of their dignity. You took a moment to catch your breath and looked at him, at the sudden darkening of his eyes and the way his tongue poked out to lick his lips. He watched you like a tiger readying to pounce. You nodded without a second thought. Though he had made the party bearable, anywhere would be better than here. He smiled and reached down, sliding his fingers over your inner wrist, then your palm, then grasping your hand in his own. “Come on.” 

Aegon led you into the house and up the stairs, nodding at random people (who sometimes you could barely recognise as people), skilfully dodging attempts at conversation. Up and up the lavish stairs you went before walking down a large hallway and stopping in front of a wall. Aegon pushed at the wall and it gave way, revealing a spiral staircase in the dark that led up into an abyss. 

“Um, are you sure you know where you’re going?” You asked, pausing at the entrance to the rather dingy looking chamber. 

“There are some perks to having been at the president’s mansion practically since I was born. One of those being secret access to the roof, now come on!” He dragged you into the dark and shut the door behind him, before ushering you up the first steps. 

The staircase really wasn’t all that tall. In fact, you could see the top and light bled down from the opening. Your heels clanked against each step and you almost toppled back into Aegon more than once. Then you were at the top. Then you could see the whole Capitol. Oh it was breathtaking! The whole city, laid out before you like a miniature scene to play with. There were lights glimmering in houses and cars on the roads and life! There were signs of life everywhere. Oh you couldn’t believe it. You almost believed you could see to the very edges of Panem. 

 “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Aegon asked, and you turned to meet his eyes. Both of you had moved right to the edge of the rooftop so you could look out over the party, and he moved to stand directly behind you. You could feel his chest press into your back. The fabric of his shirt rubbed against the skin of your back and he was a solid pressure behind you, like the comfort of a wall at your back when you slept. “Hm?” He asked again, bending his head down to run his nose up your neck. You shivered, the light graze was just ticklish enough to start a spark inside of you. 

 “Yes,” you breathed out, clenching your hands on the concrete to stop yourself from leaning back into him. You didn’t know him. You didn’t really know him. You didn’t know him at all. 

 “You know,” he began slowly, hands going to your shoulders and turning you around to face him. “When I first saw you on the television, the day of the reaping, I knew you would win.” Your breath caught in your throat. Your mouth was so dry. You wished you hadn’t discarded that sweet drink so quickly. “And look at you now,” he leaned in closer, cupping your face to force your eyes to meet his, “you’re the winner, the greatest person in Panem, to come out of the districts anyway.” He gently kissed your right cheek, warm lips on plush skin, and when he pulled away the breeze cooled the hint of saliva he had left behind. “You’re the greatest treasure one could possess, you know?” He kissed your other cheek, firmer this time, like he was trying to leave the imprint of his lips on your skin. “Everyone knows the winner of the Hunger Games, and to say you own them? To parade them on your arm for everyone to see, saying you own the very concept of survival?” He seemed to groan in pleasure, and then everything was moving. 

His lips were on yours, slightly wet and forceful. His tongue was delving into your mouth, tasting like sugar, too much sugar, and you wanted to pull back because it was so overwhelming and everything he had just said and and and… and it felt so good too. It was warm, and desperate, like no one had ever been for you before. 

A hand moved into your hair and grasped the strands at the back of your head tight, pulling slightly to tilt your head back so you had to look up at him. He was almost leaning over you so your spine bent over the edge of the roof, and the skin of your back scratched against the unpainted concrete. He huffed against your mouth then pulled back, his other hand coming up to trace your mouth with his thumb. You stared into his eyes but he wasn’t looking back at you, not really anyway. He was watching his prize, the reward that no one but him deserved. 

You whimpered, a small and pathetic sound that only seemed to make his skin hotter, and he let go of your hair to begin pulling the straps of your dress down your arms. It was a heavy thing, and it felt good to finally be rid of the weight, but you were keenly aware of the cold night and the party in full swing just underneath you. If someone in the garden decided to look up, they would surely see you bent over the edge. 

“Wait-” you began to protest, but Aegon was past listening, past caring. He just shoved the dress under your breasts and down your legs, before grabbing your face and bringing your mouth to his own again. His hands travelled over your neck, then caressed your shoulders. He gently pressed the red indents the straps of the dress had left and you sighed into his mouth, leaning onto his chest. Your nipples rubbed against the fabric of his shirt and you gasped into the kiss before moving your chest slightly. The warm little tingles travelled all the way through your torso and you clung to his arms. 

Aegon kissed sloppily over your cheeks, your neck, pausing to bite into it until you grunted with pain and pushed at his shoulder. He licked all the way down to your chest, his tongue warm and wet, then the slick trail of spit suddenly cold. Your legs felt unsteady, and you leaned back against the barrier as he began mouthing at your breasts, little circles of warmth formed everywhere he kissed, and then his mouth closed over your nipple and you clenched. It was so… weird. A wet suction formed over your nipple and it seemed to make the inside of your breast spark, your stomach jolt, and the space between your thighs tingle and turn to mush. 

“Come on precious,” he mumbled against your skin, “you can be louder,” and he bit the flesh. It really was a live wire attached to your skin, so easy to spark, so easy to create a fire that spread all throughout your body. 

Aegon was quicker with the other nipple, licking over it like a dog with a bowl of water, before making his way down to the apex of your thighs. He seemed to be in a hurry with the way he dove his face between your legs. A cry left your lips, loud and shriek-like, at the overwhelming activity. His nose slipped between your lips and pressed to your clit, his tongue out and flat and lapping against the sticky slick that covered the puffy folds that hid your hole. He was ravenous, pressing his face in in in until you stood on your tiptoes and half your weight was balanced against his face. The contours of his face pressed at your hole, his nose rubbed at your clit, and he moved his face back and forth so his tongue could poke inside of you then slip back into his mouth. He began speaking into you, rumbling words you couldn’t understand over the rushing in your head. 

“Come on, cum on my face,” he huffed, grabbing your thighs and licking at your clit until it was puffy and swollen. “I wan’ you to cum on my face, give me what I want.” He pressed his tongue inside you. In. Out. He licked your clit. In. Out. He sucked it into his mouth, and your legs shook so much that you would’ve fallen onto the floor if you weren’t practically laying on the barrier already. It was a release. That’s all it could be called. Every muscle clenched then released. Even your mind felt like it had slowly been clenching and now it had been unravelled and was slowly dripping out of your skull. 

“Fuck, that’s right,” Aegon mumbled as he pulled away, standing to full height and pulling your hips against his own. His hair had fallen forward into his eyes and his mouth and nose glistened in the low light, but he didn’t seem to care one bit. He had leaned over your body again, pressing his face into your neck. The slick on his chin stuck to your skin and squished whenever he moved. He humped into you a few times, grunting and groaning, before hurriedly reaching down and fumbling with his belt and zipper. You could hear the clanking of metal, the rustle of fabric, and then something warm pressing to your thigh. 

There was no waiting with Aegon. His body simply didn’t contain the patience for it, and really why would you wait when the prize you had so long coveted lay bare before you, just ripe for the taking? A shift here, a push there, and he caught at your entrance. He finally pulled away from your neck and looked into your eyes. He caressed your cheek, and you could tell all he saw was a trophy he had just won. 

Then Aegon pressed into you, and his veins rubbed at your slick insides, pressing against your walls and sliding against your own textured flesh and you were leaning back to moan into the night sky, chest heaving. He kissed your breasts and pushed into you again, his lower stomach pressing your clit. Again, he moved into you and the sparks flashed and you clenched around him, onto him, and he moaned against your ear, hot breath fanning the shell. 

“Fuck yes, you’re my precious little thing aren’t you? Huh? You’re my special little prize?” His hips slapped against yours and the sound echoed over the roof. His mouth biting into your neck sent sparks through you. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and oh god it was too much! You clenched onto him and screamed into his neck, open mouth pressed to the sweaty skin. You clenched and unclenched onto him as waves passed through you, melting your flesh and your bones. It was over too soon yet it lasted too long. He pushed once more, twice more, and you could feel him quiver against you, even as you tried to push him away from the pulsing flesh of your insides. You could feel the spurts inside you, hot and gushing. You felt it trickle out of you, slide down your thighs in warm rivulets and you shuddered. 

Aegon still lay on top of you, huffing heavily into your neck. You didn’t know what to do, so you stayed still, waiting for guidance, waiting for the other shoe to fall. He slowly pushed up on his arms so his face hovered above yours, and he smiled a dazed and delirious smile. Was it always there, or had it just appeared, that insanity in his eyes? 

“Oh my precious,” he sighed, cupping your cheek, “we have so much ahead.”

#hotd x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #hotd aegon #aegon the second #aegon targaryen #team green #aegon ii fic #aegon ii x you #aegon #the greens #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #hunger games au

[evilminji]

The House of Mysteries is Arguably Sentient Right?

(O.O ) I sit here... contemplating the... WEIRD Ghosts Danny might come across. The true Haunted Houses. Planets. Theaters. Boxes bigger on the inside. Living ships and A.I.s, Etc.

All things can die. If the house of mysteries is someday utterly destroyed? Is that not death? If the Planet and Green Lantern Mogo is broken to pieces like non-sentient Krypton was, has he not perished?

Do they not stand equal chance of become Ghosts?

Are.... Are Haunts even created? Or are they a symbiotic ghost relationship? The dual fulfilling of Obsession. A house, properly haunted and taking care of someone. And a Ghost, watching TV or organizing stamps or living out the fantasy of their Perfect Life.

All behind purple doors.

Houses are demolished all the time. Or lost to war or disaster. An old enough house? Enough people living and dying in it? Could arguably start to accumulate ectoplasm. Become, not sentient, but a touch more. And in dying? Like any animal, leave behind that Idea of who they were. That ALMOST and Instinct.

Certain places though? That are alive? That have seen far too much death? They seem to carry over. Castles and long burned libraries, coliseums, and frozen hills. The places life was lost, over and over or all at once.

Floating islands from long dead planets.

I bet we could find Kryptonian flora on some of them. If we looked in the right area. It must be a strange mix. Down right bizarre. Facing just about anything and wondering if it's sentient.

With Ectoplasm? It could be.

But at the same time? Imagine the RELIEF? Of, after the stress and fear of dying, waking up CHANGED, somewhere new and alone... searching desperately for something, anything, to ground your self? The relief you'd feel... when a door seems to drift right into out of nowhere. Just? Gentle bonk.

And yeah, it's purple. Looks like every generic door that's ever been. But? It has this VIBE. Like you're staring at the door to your first shit apartment, but it's YOURS and YOU paid for it and you're... you're home now. You open it.

And it's like some crammed every inspo board you ever had and all the parts of every room you ever loved, together. Familiar, new, and best of all? NOT a vast swirling green void. You drift inside.

If you're like so many ghosts? Probably never leave. Why would you? It's spooky and loud and crazy out there. Everyone's nuts. In HERE it's nice. No fights, art and food the way you like it, time feels muted and far away...

You only really snap OUT of your happy Vibe Sesh with your House Haunt when someone intrudes.

There us probably a whole flip side of the Zone that we never really see. Haunt politics. Competition for the really GOOD Ghosts. Haunts that don't want a ghost because they are waiting for somebody who may or may not come.

Other fuckin MOGO'S. Seriously. Sentient planet. That may be rare, may even be the sole example IN THEIR UNIVERSE, but the Zone is Multiversal. Literally Infinite.

Which means there ARE at least a handful or more of SENTIENT PLANET GHOSTS. How do you?? Cope? "Oh this is my buddy, the PLANET EARTH." But possibly BIGGER.

Fuck that's a lot of Ectoplasm. Thank Zone their Obsession's are usually "Be Prosperous Planet" and "orbit and protect this Star, which is sentient and my frient".

Oh? They forgot to mention the SENTIENT FUCKING STAR? As in giant ball of fire and death? Whoops! :T

Don't worry! THEIR Obsession is their planets! It's a full circle thing. Just leave that little system alone and they won't annihilate you and everything you've ever loved! Easy.

Lookin a little pale there, your Majesty. You need to lay down?

(And to think, all this... because Pariah's Castle got into a literal land war with other castles over who gets the New King.)

(Accusations of being a Greedy Bitch were thrown. Suggestions to Get Good and stop being A Loser Crybaby were offered. Somehow, there were cannons? Danny is still unclear but has been told under NO circumstances is he to step foot in ANY ghost building until mediators can be brought in. It could be seen as declaring a preference.)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe

#dpxdc #dcxdp #ghost buildings #what ARE haunts? #haunted houses #pariahs castle is a dramtic asshole #theyre also a bitch #its why Pariah liked them #the other castles dont have to stand for this! #local observatories are suggesting maybe the king wants some nice STARS #words are being thrown #and chairs #your architectural designs are GAUDY and no one likes you! #gasp! take THIS! #cannons go brrr

[billlydear]

Billy and his rings 🫠 anything you want to say is amazing

HC - BILLY HARGROVE AND HIS RINGS (BILLY HARGROVE X READER)

W.C 1438 - INBOX (please request !) - CREDIT TO GIF OWNER

okay, so if my memory serves me he only wears the one consistently, but he's got others on his dresser, right? i'm thinking that maybe they're all special to him, that's why he has them, but the one that he wears every day is the most special.

not to make things terribly sad, but i think his mom probably gave it to him, maybe even the night before she left. she came into his room, shook him awake, slipped it around his neck on a chain, kissed his forehead, told him to keep it safe, and that she loved him a lot. he just smiled all sleepily and promised he'd keep it safe for her, he didn't know why she was taking so long to look at him and smile at him with tears in her eyes. then the next morning he woke up to neil shouting, and she was gone.

when you start dating, he probably thinks about giving you one off of his dresser, but he doesn't for a while. he's still too scared to commit, sure he's your boyfriend and you're his girlfriend but one day you could just up and leave like his mom did, and he doesn't want you taking that much of him with you, if he can help it. but then, the first time you ever come over, definitely when neil is gone, you're poking around his room, snooping in his stuff, and he's sitting back on his bed watching you amusedly. you come across his dish of rings and poke around in there, examining the bands and their patterns.

'pretty,' you murmur, brushing your finger over a silver one that's got a design stamped into it. he knows which one you're holding, and he's still somewhat cautious about you leaving, even if you've told him a thousand times you won't, but it's not the one around his neck, so he decides he'll trust you that much.

'keep it', he grunts, looking down at the one on his middle finger to avoid the eye contact he knows you're trying to make with him, "It can be, like, a couple-y thing. Just- uh.. keep it safe."

he's looking down at his hands in his lap so the only way he knows you're on the bed is when it dips, and you crawl on all-fours to pop your face below his own, peering up at him with a cheesy grin

'you sap,' you giggle, and even though he wants to retreat back into his shell at the teasing, even though he wants to be mean and brush it off, he doesn't, because you lean up to kiss him, and he doesn't have time to think before you're breaking away and turning to sit against his chest.

you maneuver between his legs, slumped down so that your head lays on his chest, and you reach for his hand, the one with the ring. yours is on your middle finger too, so when you lace your hands together, they clink against each other, slotting into place.

"There," You tip your head back so that his chin is snug against your crown, "They match now. We match now."

God, he's so glad that you're sitting with your back to him, because he bites back the biggest, sappiest, most puppy-like smile in the world.

and what's even better, you don't take yours off. He assumes you'll swap it out depending on outfits, moods, days, etc, but you don't. it's part of you now, just like his mom's ring is part of him, and he doesn't miss what that says about the way you feel about him.

he secretly adores the way your cheek is stamped with the mark of his mom’s band when you fall asleep with your face on his hand 🥹 if he notices it before you’re awake he’ll kiss the mark all soft and sweet

sometimes, he has to take his mom's ring off. during the shower it gets caught in his hair and pulls, hard, so whenever he's showering while you're around, he hands it to you instead of setting it on the counter. or when he's doing the dishes, he doesn't want it to get old food on it, so he places it in your palm, tells you to take it for a little while, and tries not to smile at the sight of it around your finger.

you always always always remember to give it back to him, though, because you know how much it means to him. except.. one night. he'd been washing your dinner plates, and he'd handed it off to you distractedly. He watched you put it on just to be sure, but then you'd had to rush home because of the time, and he didn't remember to grab it back from you, nor did you remember to take it off and slip it back to him.

it means that exactly seven minutes and twenty-three seconds after getting into bed that night, he starts getting drowsy and tucks his hand under his pillow, and in doing so, sees that it's... bare. he's instantly in a panic, stomach dropping and eyes widening. he is not sleepy anymore, he's shooting out of bed and grabbing the phone like it owes him money

he knows you have it, he's trying to tell himself that it's okay, but neil has always called him.. not so nice things.. for wearing a ring, a ladies' ring, and he can't shake the idea that maybe he'd gotten his hands on it somehow. his fingers are shaking, almost too much to dial your number. but he gets it eventually, and he hopes he’s not breathing too shakily against the receiver.

you barely get a, ‘hello?’ out before he blurts, “Y/N, you have my ring, right?”

“Oh, Billy,” you glance down at your hand, and, sure enough, it’s there, “I’m sorry! I just forgot, I-”

“It’s fine,” he audibly sighs, trying to calm his pounding heart, “It’s fine. Just- keep it safe, okay? Can I get it from you tomorrow?”

“of course,” you promise, and even though he’s anxious about not having it on his hand, he knows he can trust you with it, “See you tomorrow, Billy.”

he asks you for it first thing, he barely even hugs you before he’s staring at your hand, his ring definitely not on it, “Uh, babe, you got my ring?”

“Here,” You reach into the neckline of your shirt, pulling out a chain that his mom’s ring is strung on, “I just gotta-”

while you unclasp it, Billy watches with a funny feeling in his heart. it’s a scene from his memory, a sweet creature with his mama’s ring around their neck. All at once his mom’s words hit him, and he realizes it’s never been safer. It’s important to him, and so are you. You’re his safe place, and his mom would have loved you, he knows that. For the first time he’s sure you won’t leave, he knows you won’t.

he also thinks that maybe she was never talking about the ring in the first place. Maybe she was talking to the ring, taking a symbol of her love and asking it to keep her baby safe. And it feels right to pass it on, to make sure his mama keeps you safe too. So he reaches back to where you’re fumbling with the clasp, pulling your hands away from it.

“You can keep it.” He decides, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “Just.. keep it safe, okay?” And maybe he doesn’t know who he’s talking to either. Maybe it’s you, maybe it’s the ring, but either way, he wants it around your neck.

you’re stunned, for more reasons than one. First, of course, it’s his mom’s. He’s told you about it before, that’s why you’re always so diligent about getting it back to him safe. And second, he’s never done that to you before. Sure, he kisses your face when you’re about to sleep, maybe his lips against your cheek or your nose, but he doesn’t usually let himself get sappy enough to grab your face and kiss your forehead. You want to push back, to insist that he keeps his special ring, but this obviously means a lot to him, more than you’ll ever understand.

so you keep it, and now you have two of his rings on you at all times. He touches them a lot, he’ll fiddle with your necklace or spin the one around your finger, but he never takes them back, and that’s how you know he loves you

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove headcanons #billy hargrove hcs #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x reader fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic

[twogyuu]

hi holly ♡♡ can i please get vernon + 19 for your screenplay ask game?

also it's been a while! how are you beloved? i just saw your new header and it made me giggle out loud i love it ♡

pairing: vernon x reader

19. ""so what are we exactly?" // ". . . is there a wrong answer to this question?"

genre: fluff, angst, crack if you squint, friends-2-???, dance!au, ft. joshua! HAHAHA

wc: 792

a/n: hi hi xan! im doing alright :) been busy adulting so haven't been a whole lot of writing mood hahaha - i moved this weekend! excited, but a little nervous and exhausted. i don't have anything yet, so i've been using my boxes of kpop albums/merch as a miniature table LOL 💀😂 thank you for checking in! i hope you enjoy this and are doing well, yourself 🫶🏻 hehehehe

Please pick a SVT member and a number from this prompt list, and I'll write a drabble for you :)

. . . .

Your stomach felt hollow and your sense of smell felt stale despite the sacred aroma of food filled with grease and an extra, extra pinch of salt - the signature stamp of delicious for an all-American diner.

This was your usual post-hangover go-to after a night out, equalizing the alcohol that filled you belly last night with an extra helping of burgers made of brioche bun. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but let your food in front of you grow cold as your friends stuffed their faces and moaned out of satisfaction, even though this was probably their umpteenth time here.

The argument that ensued on the car ride home with Vernon left you with a bitter taste on your tongue - and it lingered. You have known him for the better part of your twenties when you met him through Chan so many years ago. Bright-eyed and a man of few words, he was perhaps the last person you expected to befriend from the dance studio. You were opinionated and particular. Alas, a stupid project brought the two of you together and you couldn't come a part since. Dare you admit it, your confidant, best friend, partner in crime - what have you. Somewhere along the way, the two of you started tiptoeing across the lines of friends and something more.

A performance turned into a hand for a dance at Seungcheol's wedding.

Simple brush of fingers in between class changes in the hallway turned into handholding past midnight, wandering the streets downtown.

Playful jabs and shoves turned into heart-to-hearts that lasted into the morning, over turtle chips and pop because he didn't like alcohol.

A peck on the cheek in the depths of the night when only the dinky LED lightbulb overhead lit the studio turned into a full on makeout session on Soonyoung's bedroom.

So, who could blame you when you asked him for clarity?

You felt a gentle nudge of an elbow into your left side and you turned your head slightly to acknowledge him. You didn't dare to look up for your feared the waterworks might start and you didn't need the entirety of your friends and this diner to know of your issues.

Wordlessly, Vernon held up a single fry to your lips. The tip was stained with white horseradish sauce because you didn't like ketchup and enjoyed the wasabi-like sensation that followed after.

Your eyes flickered to him quickly then back to the fry, still refusing to open your mouth.

He . . . can't be doing things like this after what he said.

He shouldn't.

But he was.

"You should eat, babe," Vernon mumbled. The nickname of affection slipping between his lips so casually and easily. It was second nature to him at this point. You weren't so sure if it was out of affection, however - maybe, it was just habit. He nudged it closer, his movements a little too fast because the sauce touched your top lip.

"Oh shit!" Vernon's eyes widened and he threw the fry down. He quickly reached for a napkin instead and began wiping your lip. "I'm so sorry."

"Vernon," you whimpered, your cheeks feeling warm. You tried to push his hand away to no avail. "You don't need to-"

"What are you guys, exactly?"

Your booth turned silent and all eyes zeroed in on you and Vernon. You were both frozen, the napkin hovering over your lips and your hand still wrapped around the latter's wrist. You gulped, straining your eyes to see who the question came from.

Joshua sat across from Vernon, a burger held up to his mouth, but his lips were pursed, brows crinkled in a similar fashion.

The booth waited for an answer; no one dared moved until they got one. You took this opportunity to move away from Vernon, shoving his hand away, ducking your head, and scooting closer to Jun on your right. Jun shuffled closer to the edge, worried.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the look of hurt that crossed Vernon's face when you moved away.

What were you supposed to say? You had the same question and no clear answer.

"Um," Vernon put the napkin down and scratched the back of his head before he looked up innocently at Joshua. "I-is there a wrong answer to this question?"

Joshua let go of his burger, plopping into a wrapper with a quiet 'thwack' as it landed. The grease and ketchup seeped into the paper, not letting it fall away. Joshua sighed and shook his head.

"There is," Joshua answered for you and your heart skipped a beat - not for Joshua, but in anticipation of an answer from Vernon finally.

"Think carefully, Chwe because it's something we've all been wondering for the past year."

#vernon x reader #vernon scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #twogyuu:writing #twogyuu:ask games #aceofvernons

[yessa-vie]

01 || HEART STRING OF GOLD || OT8! ATEEZ.

ANGEL || HEART STRING OF GOLD || OT8! ATEEZ.

→ PARING. OT8 (yeosang focus) x fem!reader.

→ GENDER. angst. tiny bit of fluff. suggesttive. ateez lore au. soulmate au.

→ WC. 28,906 (i'm sorry, i'll try to make the others smaller).

→ RATING. R (mdni!).

→ WARNINGS. mention of assault. refugee situation (not too deep into it). slight yandere behaviour. hongjoong is a little shit (but i love him). sort of a flashback, but not really. mentions of heavy torture. blood. reader's duality is explored. a little of the backstory of reader with halateez. forced kiss. suggestive (talk and acts, incluiding imply the possibility of sexual assault). yeosang is a savage. cussing, like, a fucking lot. mention of violence. sexual tension at it's peak (but no actual pinning yet). so much angst, i'm sorry. talk about character's death. i guess that's all, let me know if i forgot something (let me know if there are any horrible typos, please!).

⇦ || hsog || masterlist || ⇨

                It had been four months since the leaders of the Black Pirates had contacted you. Whether they did it again or not was still a mystery to you, especially when Eden had come to you asking to go undercover in the refugee areas on the edge of Strickland. A unit was quickly created with Eden as leader, everyone knew that you were his favorite, always being included in any type of mission led by him, but thanks to the rumors that increased regarding the Black Pirates, subunits were created with the main superiors and the main names in each area.

                This was something you liked and had adopted thanks to being with Eden, it didn't matter who you were, what mattered was your skill, your ability to exercise that skill. The rest didn't matter, just how good the person was. Fortunately, your unity was considerably good and sociable between each other. Two exactly like you and Jeongin, children of important people in the government, which ended up making it easier for you not to get completely lost, in addition to the occasional conversations with your team, more specifically: Minho, Chan and Jeongin.

                Fortunately, the mission seemed to be at an end, considering you didn't get any information about the presence or mere mention about the Black Pirates, which indicated that they were probably in another refugee camp, but that didn't stop Eden from sending you and Moonbin out for more information. Despite everything, at no point did you think about complaining, considering all your history with Moonbin, he was one of the few people who knew how close you and your brother were and how much you suffered with everything that happened.

                Like all the work that was done with Eden, you and Moonbin were a closed unit, with occasional presences from Soyeon when you weren't intending to be infiltrated, despite always feeling the girl's sharp eyes on your back regardless. Soyeon was your shadow on that team, you knew you could trust her with your life, especially given the fact that she had the blocker behind her ear.

                Her eyes roamed the open space where some of the refugees were selling what they could in exchange for something, usually food or food stamps and clothing. Since both you and Moonbin were two of the three who didn't have the blocker – not including Eden – you were the best options for such a task. There were rumors about who had or didn't have the blocker, rumors about who had removed the blockers, but nothing had ever been confirmed and Eden made a point of saying that whoever said that would be removed from the team.

                Talking about the blockers, whether they were removed or not present was akin to blasphemy within Strickland's borders, even though the only people who knew that the blocker could only be removed or turned off were people within the government – usually high-ranking people, which was one of the reasons you never got one. Your parents had trained you enough to be able to mask feelings, your brother more than your parents, however, since everything happened, your parents turned to using the blocker, making it even more difficult to process everything that had happened.

                “(y/n), Moonbin, Eden needs to see you, but he's still in a meeting with the leaders,” Soobin's voice came from your ear spot and your eyes quickly met Moonbin's who was quickly at your side, intertwining the arms of the two of you, but the smiles and looks continued on everyone you both passed. “Your team got in touch too, (y/n), I told them you would get in touch around 1900 hours.”

                “I’m starting to get tired my love, when can we go back?”

                Moonbin commented, pulling your attention, pressing the point on the bracelet you wore, knowing it was your point of connection, you doing the same with his.

                “I just want to look at a few more things, I also need to stop by a friend’s house to see how she is, so let’s go, okay?”

                “I'll pass on the information,” they could both hear the noise of Soobin's computer keyboard, returning to the path they had both started doing almost every day for the last two weeks in the hope of finally getting some information, because you could feel that you’d find something, that there were signs of the presence of the Black Pirates, although you still couldn't find any physical proof. “Minhyuk wants to talk to you, he and Niki have been planning some things, but they need some data that only you have.”

                “Okay, shall we go then?” Moonbin answered for the two of you, intertwining your fingers together, the beep that indicated there would be no more contact made you both relax a little. Both continued to walk silently, a few handshakes here and there, especially as you had endeared themselves to the group of refugees over the past four months. “This friend -”

                “She's a friend, but she occasionally gets information for me,” your voice was low amidst smiles, Moonbin also not very different from you, “I helped her on our first day here, since then she insists on meeting me and pass on any type of information possible.”

                “Does she know why we’re here?” You denied getting closer to Moonbin when they passed through a narrower area, entering the middle of the ravine that existed, that part being for the first refugees and people from the region who refused to leave through the mountains. “When you say you saved her...”

                “Gangbang,” the sigh that came from Moonbin already telling you everything you needed to know. “It was a common thing to happen here, but since we arrived, it has decreased considerably.”

                “I believe you, Soyeon and Jihyo have something to do with all of this, right?”

                “Maybe,” two smiled, stopping at one of the first stalls, finding Moonbin’s informant who walked away looking for his ‘order’, making the two of you resume the conversation. “Let’s say there was a reason for Eden to agree and stop the investigation into the bodies and body parts that appeared around the camp.”

                “That’s why Minhyuk, Niki and Kook disappeared every now and then saying they would get information?” Your nod made Moonbin laugh before finding the package that was wrapped in a bundle of clothes. “Seven, right?”

                “If it’s not too much to ask, young sir,” your eyes took in the twitching of the muscles on Moonbin’s face, you probably wouldn’t look as different as he did. You both hated it when those people considered themselves inferior to you, treating you in a formal way, “the night has gotten considerably colder, I would like to know if you could provide at least one blanket, you can take it from the coupons, if so -”

                “Seven coupons and three blankets will be left for you overnight,” Moonbin’s voice was firm, his jaw as tight as his words. “It’s the least I can do considering what you and your family do for me and mine,” his eyes fell on you, the refugee’s eyes also falling quickly before looking away, trying not to make you uncomfortable, “we’re going to be relocated soon, but I will make sure that whoever is here supervising keeps our agreement.”

                “Thank you, young sir!” The refugee's smile made you smile along with Moonbin, your heart sinking as you noticed how precarious life was in that place, but at the same time, there was nothing you could do. Your hand quickly went to the bag that fell on your side, handing over a piece of food that you had exchanged just now. The smile growing when you saw the sparkle in the eyes of the man in front of you, you felt Moonbin's hand gently caress your waist. “Your wife is as kind as you, thank you very much!”

                Neither of you denied that phrase, Moonbin just pulling you closer, because even though you weren't involved, the affection between you was genuine and, probably, he had noticed how heavy your body was. You blamed the eight men, which was the reason you were in that place, because you seemed to be affected considerably more than everyone else, everything affected yourself more than Moonbin, which was the main reason he led the initial interactions, you coming in later, normally when he believed it was ideal for the interaction to happen.

                “Thank you and let us know if you need anything.”

                His speech was genuine, even though you needed to watch yourself whenever you went out, it was the moment you could most allow yourself to react to everything, even under Soyeon's watchful eye.

                “You should keep an eye on her, young sir, she’s been turning heads around the camp.”

                Your eyes found your hands clasped in front of your body, ignoring Moonbin's comment, your mind going back to all the events of the first month you and your team arrived. No matter how much information had been collected, no matter how much people deserved it in a certain way, the bloodstains seemed always present on your hands, even though you didn't always actively participate, there was no denying that you participated in some of the sessions, that they affected you more than others.

                You had known the best and worst of human beings.

                It seemed like nothing would surprise you, but still, you found yourself affected by how cruel and vile the human being could be, even though you had gotten used to it in a certain way, the constant torture that occurred...

                “Where is your friend’s house?”

                Instead of responding, you just intertwined your fingers with his. Moonbin would occasionally squeeze your hand, a reminder that he was there. Fortunately, your informant's house was not too far from his informant's, making it easier for you two to meet them.

                “You finally brought the husband!” You squeezed Moonbin's hand, pulling him to stand beside you, both of you with a smile as you found your informant leaving her tent, the children she looked after not far behind coming to hug you, welcoming Moonbin openly, with the same energy. “I really wanted you to show up today,” the informant's arms quickly wrapped you in a hug, the whisper on the edge of your ear, making it as if ice were placed on the back of your neck, with the drops cascading down your spine, "we need to talk."

                “Can you take care of the children here?”

                Before he could say anything, the informant was quickly pulling you into the house without waiting for a response.

                “I need her inside, but the kids were wanting to play in here for a bit, can you watch over them for a bit dear? Thanks!" You held back a laugh, but the exchange of looks between you and Moonbin already informed him that there would be no problem but considering what you had told him about the relationship with the informant, it didn't take much for him to understand that staying behind was better. “Damn, I knew he was hot, but fuck, you got lucky, my friend!”

                “He really is one of the good ones,” you laughed and noticed the other girl looking over her shoulder, imitating her, soon after finding Moonbin with a child on his shoulders, two others sitting on his feet and hugging his legs while two others were hanging on each of his arms, all six of them laughing, making your heart soften a little, considering it had been a while since you had seen Moonbin smile like that. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

                “You're attracting a lot of attention lately,” your eyes widened slightly as the two of you went to a more private corner, with the view of the entrance making it clear that this was important information, the smirk that appeared on the informant's lips making you slightly nervous but looking forward to the possibility of news about the Black Pirates – finally. “Some people came here asking about you, eight men more than others...”

                Your heart stopped for a moment, a glimmer of hope emerging, pushing the memory of the last encounter with them to the back of your mind, the fact that everyone at Strickland was after them despite the incompetence of those on the Search and Capture Team, the use of the White Giants – in particular, their failure to capture any of the leaders – didn't reassure you at all, but still, it seemed like they were always a few steps ahead of everyone.

                The image of the eight seen on your computer screen four months ago, stuck in your mind, a constant reminder of their influence on your life. Thanks to Jeongin and Minho, you knew that no one had heard from the leaders in the last nine months, which means that they wanted you to find everything, that they trusted you not to say anything to anyone and that killed you inside, because you didn't want no one to catch them if you weren't close by, they had a lot of answers to give you before Strickland destroyed them for society completely.

                You owed it to your brother.

                They owed it to you.

                "How you…?"

                “They came asking everyone, until they knocked on my door, but since the first one came, all the other seven came straight to my door,” your eyes traveling over the informant's features, searching for any sign of a lie, trying to remember all the things Jisung had taught you about body language, “they know about your man too.”

                “What were they like?”

                “Do you know who they are?”

                You sighed, looking at your feet, cursing yourself for having chosen to wear sandals, the red sand from the rocks mixing with the desert sand leaving your feet reddish, the friction of the sand with the straps of the sandal bothering you slightly, but that was the first moment that you realized that, how much had you allowed the leaders of the Black Pirates to control your life?

                “I just want to know what they look like, in case I run into them.”

                Your eyes never left the floor, the words weighed heavily on your chest, the informant's eyes passing over your entire face, noticing the words hidden in the middle of your response. She sighed before starting to describe the eight men who were visiting her whenever they could, the fact that they had come to her wanting to know about you more than once, not helping to calm your heart that seemed to be beating faster and faster in your chest, the blood pulsing in your ears.

                So, they were there.

                Again, you were in the same place.

                Again, they wouldn't find you.

                Were you or them the coward for never meeting?

                Were they sorry?

                The message in Howl's handwriting came back to you, were they protecting you? But why? After all that time... Have they always taken care of you? But if they did that, then why th-.

                “Angel, are you okay?”

                Angel was what she called you, the two of you agreed not to exchange real names, despite you lying about who you really were, saying you were part of an organization that helped people in precarious regions, the relationship you developed over the few weeks after you stopped a gangbang, it said more than any words you could say, you both knew, you both protected each other.

                “Yes Flower, don’t worry,” your voice was weak, but the informant knew better than to ask, her eyes falling on you as she analyzed any hint that your face and body could tell. “Did they ever say their names?”

                “No, they never did, but they never asked mine or yours either, but they knew exactly who you were.”

                “Okay, if they come again, you can answer the questions that you know the answers, I want to know where this will lead.”

                “But what if they -”

                “I know how to protect myself,” you said quickly, her worried eyes meeting yours, “he’s not the only one I trust with my life, don’t worry.”

                Before you could continue, three of the five children appeared running inside the house, huge smiles and drops of sweat running down their temples, Moonbin not far behind with the other two children, a huge smile on your friend's face, making you smile in response.

                “They said they were hungry…”

                “We also need to go,” your words were quick, the informant just nodded and stood up soon after. “Let me know anything, okay?”

                You just exchanged glances, the informant's glances quickly going to the children, and you nodded. That was a silent agreement, if any of the boys showed up looking for you, one of the kids would come after you, the question was what you would do with that information. That was the second time in four years that they had contacted you, both less than six months apart.

                Despite saying you were going to leave, you and Moonbin remained at your informant's house for at least another two hours, the sky was already a mix of orange and pink when you both left back to your team's Command Center. Your back burned with the feeling of eyes all over you, Soyeon was probably already tired of waiting, but she hadn't contacted you at all, just like none of the others had contacted you since Soobin said that Eden, Niki and Minhyuk they wanted to talk to you and Moonbin.

                Your eyes roamed the entire space outside the ravine, looking for the eyes that burned into your skin, not long after finding Niki's eyes in the middle of some tents, your hand intertwined with Moonbin's, giving just a light squeeze to indicate that they were being watched, but you continued following all the way to the Command Center, Niki and Soyeon's eyes on you the entire way.

                This all just made you ignore the other eight looks that followed you since you appeared among the tents, five below among the people, three above the ravine, also gaining visibility of Soyeon and Niki. With a simple sign, Hongjoong signaled Yeosang and Yunho to meet the others while his eyes remained on you, Seonghwa careful not to be seen, but never too far away to lose sight of you.

                When he looked up one last time, he found Shinwoo's eyes already on him, bringing a slight fright to the ATEEZ captain. It wasn't long before footsteps were heard next to him, Mars crouching down beside him, eyes focused on you in the crowd before focusing on Seonghwa not far behind you, but curiously well camouflaged, considering neither Niki nor Soyeon acted in any way against him or any of the other four who were down there.

                “You guys need to be more careful.”

                “Yeosang was watching the entrance to the Command Center from the drone, Yunho had his eyes on the woman watching her steps,” Hongjoong sighed, finding Mars' eyes on him, already able to differentiate who was who he was talking to, noticing, along with Yunho and Seonghwa, the effect your presence had on them. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about seeing all sixteen of us in the same space?”

                Mars smiled without his teeth showing, his eyes wandering all over the space below them, the ravine was packed with people, possibly a lot more than the last eight days. He noted in his mind the need to talk to others, they needed to find out what was happening. Considering that the ATEEZ boys were more than interested in you, something he and the others had already expected, they needed to reconnect with the allies they had created over the years, Left Eye needed to be contacted and brought to the ATEEZ boys' side, at least until they can go over everything they need before starting to introduce ATEEZ to you.

                “You should be more concerned about learning about this world and about (y/n),” Mars' eyes met Hongjoong's who analyzed everything he could of the older man's face. “You should have come to us if you wanted to know more about her, not contact her informant.”

                "They are friends -"

                “They’re friends by chance, but she’s still (y/n)’s informant and considering her actions when she came out of the ravine, she knows we’re here and keeping an eye on her.”

                “And why would that be such a bad thing, considering you guys want us to meet her anyway?”

                Mars's eyes swept across Hongjoong's face as he could see the wheels turning in the older man's head, wanting more than anything to get a small glimpse into who they were, their real relationship with you. Hongjoong couldn't deny that you were beautiful, what little he and the others discovered about you in the ruins’ bunker had already piqued his curiosity, clearly that of the others as well, your rankings within the Strickland Government only helping the curiosity become a nuisance remembering how little they knew and how much he hated being left out of everything that happened.

                “Everything has its time to happen, if you show up now, it will not only ruin our plans, but it will cause a problem too big to be solved, like you visiting the main informant of the person you are watching.” Mars' harsh words were like a slap in Hongjoong's face. Despite not knowing much, they should remember that they are not in their universe, they should understand that all of this is for the greater good. “How is training with Cromer going?”

                “Don’t you guys talk?” Mars seemed not at all affected, making Hongjoong run his fingers through his hair before sitting on the rock and looking at the sky, the wind already mild at the end of the day blowing against his face. “Better than yesterday, worse than tomorrow.”

                Mars laughed awkwardly, sitting next to Hongjoong, his eyes roaming the entire space around and above them. The youngest holding back from asking since when they were in that race, the real reason for all that to happen, even if they said that the reason was you, that you were friends, some pieces didn't fit with the plot they had presented to ATEEZ four months ago.

                “We need you to trust us,” Mars' voice came out weak, drawing Hongjoong's attention, meeting the older man's eyes on his gloved hands. “We know it’s a lot to ask, but you don’t understand the -”

                “You guys talk about trust, but you left a message for her that we were in ruins,” Mars' eyes looked up in shock meeting Hongjoong's judgmental eyes before he removed the part of the paper that Jongho had torn up and kept with him, to prevent you from finding it somehow before handing it over to Mars who noted Iyaah's handwriting. “Go to the ruins to look at the stars, that’s what the whole paper said.”

                Mars' head spun trying to understand why Iyaah sent that message, even though he knew exactly why. The arid air went down his dry throat, he needed to talk to the others, the message that Howl had left for you should be the only one you received, because if any of your team members found that message, it would be extremely problematic, especially if they turned it in for you.

                “I'll talk to Iyaah about this, this shouldn't have happened...”

                “How about you also tell us the truth about your relationship?” Hongjoong's voice was harsh, his accusing eyes never meeting Mars's who continued to look at the paper, the internal conflict clear in them, making the ATEEZ captain discover a little more of the secrets kept by the others. “You wish she had found the note.”

                It wasn't a question, Mars knew as he just folded the paper and placed it in one of the pockets of his coat, his eyes never meeting Hongjoong's. What he and the others fought for so long to overcome, to get over you, seemed to crumble with the fact that you were so close and so far from them at the same time.

                “Get your team together, I’ll get mine together and we’ll meet in the bunker, we need to make some things clear about everything.”

                “I understand,” Mars stopped his movements, but didn't meet Hongjoong's analytical eyes, even though he felt them on his every movement. It didn't matter that he was younger, there was a reason he and the others were chosen, they had been through a lot that had hardened them, they managed to be what Mars and the others only pretended to be, but never for long enough, never to get the goal they wanted nor needed, never enough for you, for what you needed. “Is she really worth it?”

                Mars' eyes finally met Hongjoong's and a smirk appeared on the older man's lips, returning to his original position, catching the younger one by surprise who managed to pretend normality, increasing Mars' smile as he noticed how much they had learned from the help from Uno and Wooyeon.

                “I think you already have part of the answer,” eyes scanning every corner of Hongjoong's face before dropping down, so used to finding you among groups of people, as if they hadn't been there for the last four – almost five – years of running away from finding you, even if it destroyed them inside each time, that's why having you so close after so long made it difficult not to leave small signs. “Let’s go to the bunker, we’ll answer your questions, but you need to take this seriously,” a sigh and Mars’ eyes met Hongjoong’s eyes that had never left him, “everyone needs you to take this seriously.”

                While everything was happening at the top of the ravine that you had just left, the feeling of eyes on you did not diminish at any time, Niki was already on your side, Moonbin on the other and you could see the shine of Soyeon's hidden knives as you walked by as she met with the three of you, staying a little behind, protecting your back whenever she could.

                It was when a child ran away, splitting the four of you and your eyes followed the path they were taking, that you finally realized. A glimpse of Mars' eyes before the others blocked his view, but you could have sworn it was him. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

                “(y/n)?”

                Niki's voice was what brought you back to reality, his eyes were curious, while Moonbin's hands held your sides tightly, Soyeon was already looking in the direction your eyes had been fixed, her fingers finding one of the hidden knife butts near her hip.

                “Nothing,” you said quickly, but eyes darting across the space near where Mars was, or you believed they were. “I thought I saw someone, but...”

                "I'll check."

                “How can you check if I don’t even know exactly who I saw, Soyeon?” Your voice was hard, the usual mask returning to your features, your eyes noticed when Soyeon nodded with her hands at her sides. “Now come on, we have a meeting, if anyone looks for me, I need you to inform me.”

                “So, there is someone?”

                “Niki, you went all over this place, we met the same people,” your, eyes fell on the youngest of the team, noticing a cut on his jaw, indicating that he had fought again to get information, “if you didn't see anyone who shouldn’t be here, the likelihood of me seeing it is slim, but yes, maybe someone will come at the behest of one of my informants, so send them to me.”

                Your steps were tracked to the path you always took to return to the Command Center, which honestly wasn't as hidden as one would expect, considering it was the biggest tent of all, but hidden among everything else, there was a hidden passage to the giant bunker where everyone who didn't need to appear outside was located.

                The footsteps of the four of you were quickly heard and Jihyo opened the tent for your passage. There were some bodies stretched out on stretchers, some being cared for, others sleeping, but you continued to follow until the end of the tent, passing through a cloth stretched to the ground that blocked the view of the space that those who went outside were sleeping, but most importantly it was beyond that, it was what hid a chest at the bottom.

                Moonbin and Niki quickly lifted the trunk, Jihyo's hands going to the lever, freeing the ladder for you to be the first to pass. You were late for the meeting with Eden, as well as for the meeting with Minhyuk and Niki, but since no one had contacted you, your worry was almost nil, until you found Eden's eyes on you. They were tired and red, making you sigh to calm your reactions as everyone lined up next to each other waiting for Eden's first lines.

                While everyone was getting organized, your eyes quickly glanced at the cameras that observed the entire refugee camp, the children running, people laughing, eating, having fun as best they could, but the truth was that you were looking for the camera that allowed you a minimum vision of your informant's tent. The hope of seeing at least one of them passing through the rocks.

                “They found signs of the leaders' presence in the refugee camp to the south,” you held back the sigh that risked leaving your lips, just like the confusion that gathered in your mind.  “Considering everything, including the work we have done in the last four months, we have five to seven days to organize everything and pass on the important data to whoever will be here taking care of this area.”

                “Anything else sir?”

                Kai's voice reverberated through the space. Only you and Kai had the freedom of a direct conversation with Eden, considering you were second in command and Kai was his shadow.

                “Yes, but that’s a conversation I’ll have alone with (y/n), Kai.”

                Everyone nodded and you felt Eden's eyes watching your reactions, knowing he had seen you looking at the cameras.

                “Sir, I need to talk to my team and three more of ours, if you don’t mind.”

                “No, you can go, it’s not that urgent.”

                “Who knows, maybe you’ll rest your eyes a little in the meantime.”

                Kai's comment made you, Moonbin and Jungkook hold back a laughter, while Eden just threw a warning look at the shadow that didn't care. That was the great thing about the blocker, how unfiltered people were, how little they cared about what they said, how little they cared about anything that wasn't logical.

                “Kai is right sir,” although your face was serious, the tone of your voice informed the three who did not have the blockers behind their ears – meaning, Moonbin, Eden and Jungkook –, how much you were holding back your laughter. Eden's eyebrows arched making it even harder to hold back the laughter, but you, Moonbin and Jungkook managed it, thanks to years of training. “I don’t know how long each of the meetings will take, it’s better for you to rest in the meantime, if we can’t postpone it until tomorrow, of course.”

                Eden's eyes analyzed your features before falling on Moonbin, Soyeon and Niki. The ones who were with you outside. The cameras were still on, some movements catching Eden's attention, but not enough for him to call anyone to take care of the matter.

                “Wake me up as soon as you finish the conversations,” with a simple shake of the head, everyone began to go their separate ways to finish the day's tasks. Minhyuk quickly approaching you and Moonbin, Niki quickly staying by his side. “I hope you’re rested (y/n), you’re free for tomorrow.”

                That was the warning he gave regarding the conversations that would follow. You already knew you weren’t gonna sleep, this warning was just the confirmation you’d needed. After your nod, Eden turned to the cameras where Jungkook was already pulling up some images, while adding others that Eden had pointed out. You knew that night would be long, but honestly, you had never been as awake as you were at that moment with everything that had happened.

                Mingi held his head in his hands trying to ignore how much it throbbed, especially after analyzing the video of the Mirrors, how they reacted. His eyes went to the side, the others not unlike his own. His eyes met those of San and Seonghwa, all tired, but until they achieved mastery in reflecting the reactions of the Mirrors – at least at first –, the complete plan would not be shared with them.

                Logan's voice was heard capturing the attention of all the ATEEZ boys who held back an irritated growl, after all they had asked for this, they had agreed to what had been proposed to them, but before anyone could say anything, the digital symbol of a bird surrounded by blue light took over the screen, making everyone exchange glances.

                "But what-?"

                Before any response could come, Mars' fingers touched the bird opening the message in front of everyone, ignoring the gazes of others. He had made an agreement with Hongjoong; they would share everything with them that came since the agreement, but regarding their questions, only when they managed to mirror all the possible reactions of the others.

                “Stop trying to contact her in any way. If they do what needs to be done, the interaction will occur in the coming months. The Command Center already knows that you were in the three refugee camps two months ago, the last bait was taken at 1100 hours today, with the release of some of the members who were incarcerated. I expect a report on how the new recruits are doing by the end of the day. Deadline to start the interaction and replacement process: three months.”

                Yunho's eyes fell on the Mirrors that lowered their heads almost instantly after Mars' voice ended. Wooyoung and Yeosang exchanged confused looks, just like San and Jongho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong absorbing any clue that the Mirrors could offer, meanwhile, Mingi approached him with slow and silent steps.

                “Three months from now marks the first time we find out about her.”

                Yunho's eyes met Mingi's worried ones before focusing on the Mirrors who seemed in a dilemma big enough to ignore the presence of Yunho and the others, but before Yunho or Mingi could approach Hongjoong to tell him that detail, Mars was facing everyone, the image of the blue bird quickly disappearing from the interactive screen. His eyes were hard, but anyone could see a gap of feeling in them, even if others couldn't identify it.

                “What have you managed to memorize about what we gave you?”

                Everyone was silent for a moment, Hongjoong slowly moving towards Mars who held the younger's gaze.

                “Yeosangie,” everyone’s eyes fell on Yeosang who straightened his posture, waiting for Hongjoong to continue, “were you able to organize the drone and the data?”

                “Yes,” everyone looked at the two curiously, but no one dared to say anything. Mars and Hongjoong seemed to have an internal power struggle going on between them. Yeosang timidly went towards the central computer, everyone's eyes curious on his movement that stopped between Hongjoong and Mars, waiting to see if anyone said something. "Can I show…?"

                With a simple shake of the head from Mars and Hongjoong, everyone organized themselves to see what Yeosang had done with the drone, opening a file on the central computer, pulling out several files with different names, ages, careers, but the one that caught the most attention, it had been yours.

                The screen was divided between Team A and Team B, with your sheet in the middle. It didn't take long for everyone to realize what Hongjoong had asked Yeosang to do, especially with the requests the captain had made to Wooyoung, San and Jongho. Yeosang turned to face everyone in front of him, meeting Mingi's eyes following the numbers they had worked on for the last month.

                But it was the reaction of the Mirrors that made Hongjoong smile victoriously, but to his surprise, Mars' proud smile was thrown at him, just like the others who smiled at seeing what they had achieved with the little they were given. They had really chosen the right people to carry on the work that had been started when you turned fifteen. They knew that the ATEEZ boys could do for you, what they never did, that was the final proof they needed, the proof that Nightingale wanted to start the plan.

                In Team A you could see the names and positions of everyone you had chosen two years ago. Bang Chan, second in command; Lee Minho, head of intercom, hacker; Seo Changbin, weapons chief and physical training; Hwang Hyunjin, shadow number one; Hwang Yeji, head of strategy; Han Jisung, body language expert; Lee Felix Yongbok, light spy; Kim Seungmin, in-person spy; Yang Jeongin, wildcard, second/third in command; Shin Ryujin, shadow number two; Lee Chaeryeong, chief technology officer.

                In Team B, it involved the names of the people who were with you during the four months they had been with you, those that the ATEEZ boys had the most contact with, being able to understand more about how people who had the blockers behaved. Eden, team leader, one of the main superiors, (y/n) is his protégé; Choi Soobin, head of intercom, hacker; Kim Jongin (Kai), Eden's shadow; Jeon Soyeon, (y/n) shadow; Lee Minhyuk, head of strategy; Nishimura Riki (Niki), sneaky spy; Jeon Jungkook, head of technology and physical training; Moon Bin, in-person spy; Park Jihyo, weapons chief.

                “From the little we managed to gather of information,” Yeosang went through the slides and explained the vision he and Hongjoong arrived at, the latter's eyes never leaving the Mirrors that observed everything curiously and with a smile that irritated Hongjoong more than anything. “With this, we came to the conclusion that no one on Team A has blockers, while on Team B, only three, technically two, did not: Moonbin, Jungkook and Eden.”

                “And why are you so sure of that?”

                The question came with a challenging smile on Lucky's face, but it didn't seem to affect Yeosang in the slightest, making Howl and Shinwoo glance at Uno and Wooyeon who nodded with a smile.

                “Their behavior didn’t match anyone else’s,” Yeosang’s eyes fell on Yunho who nodded, knowing that those were the words he had said a few months before, “not to mention that they changed when they were around some, which then led us to understand what was going on, based on the little we knew about the blockers.”

                “And you think (y/n) doesn’t have blockers?”

                “We are sure.”

                Despite Iyaah's question being thrown at Yeosang, it was Jongho who answered, bringing everyone's attention to him who just exchanged glances with the others who nodded, ending with Yeosang who indicated for them to switch places.

                “How can you be so sure?”

                This time it was Mars' turn to ask, his eyes curious, especially considering that he and the others always believed that you would use the blockers after everything happened, after they found out about your parents, the idea became almost certain, but such as always, they never got too close to be sure of the details.

                “I watched Jungkook a lot while we were there,” the screen then focused on Jungkook's profile, a face that the others knew well enough to be uneasy at the idea of Jongho having been seen by him in some way, “he had moments, for so to speak, but I didn't interact with him at any point, if that was a concern considering the change in your postures," the Mirrors smiled even wider as they noticed how nonchalant Jongho was reacting, which meant everything was going better than before, as expected. “In the end, I realized that he is one of those who has the blocker, but he can turn the device on and off at will.”

                “And what makes you think she doesn’t do the same?”

                “Because she's good enough to not need a device to do that,” Jongho's eyes fell hard on Uno, almost weakening for a moment as he noticed the shine in the Mirrors' eyes, a shine he had never noticed before, “but I can't deny that I thought about it a lot during the weeks we had with her and it made me understand why you say that we need to learn to control our expressions.”

                “Okay, elaborate a little more if you can.”

                Jongho sighed exchanging glances with his friends who seemed interested in what he had to say, especially considering that he hadn't shared that final assessment with any of them, making Hongjoong rest his elbows on his knees holding his head by his chin waiting for what the youngest would have to say.

                “First, I think she saw one of us on one of the last few days,” as everyone's eyes widened, Jongho was quick to calm them down, his eyes shifting away from Seonghwa, “but I believe she didn't recognize us, more specifically, she thought who had seen, was you, Mars.”

                Seonghwa and Mars exchanged quick, worried looks, as this could be a potential problem. Especially after the paper Hongjoong had given to Mars with Iyaah's handwriting indicating that they were in the ruins.

                “How are you so sure?”

                None of them could contain surprise at Mars' question, as it contained no malice, but rather a tone of hope, especially considering the latest information that the ATEEZ boys had gathered. It meant that you still cared, that you still cared about them, as much as they still cared about you.

                “I was close to them when she saw Seonghwa, but she didn't talk and took on an authoritarian tone with the others who were with her, but I could see her and Moonbin holding hands and he was reassuring her without the others noticing, in addition to preventing of Soyeon and Niki to go after the information.”

                Seonghwa noticed when all the Mirrors let out a sigh of relief, which brought confusion to everyone else, after all they should have been irritated by the fact that Seonghwa had been seen and almost captured, but no, quite the opposite, especially by the smiles that everyone exchanged.

                “And what else do you have to say about everything that has happened in the last few months?”

                “We understand,” it was Hongjoong’s turn to respond Mars who turned his attention completely to the ATEEZ captain who was keeping a curious eye on all the Mirrors who seemed uneasy – for the first time – under his gaze, “in fact, the more I study everything, her in particular, I understand, but I can’t deny that the questions still make it difficult to fully understand what she represents in all of this.”

                “And what is the question that bothers you the most?”

                And with that simple question, the air became tense again, the power play between Hongjoong and Mars was palpable, only under everyone's curious gaze.

                “What is your real relationship with her? And don’t give me the bullshit story about you being just friends, because your reaction is not that of those who were old friends.”

                Everyone exchanged glances, especially when Mars stood up, exchanging a meaningful look with the others who quickly spread around the place. Mars' eyes were full of nostalgia, affection, and longing, which surprised all the ATEEZ boys, even if they didn't show it, which brought a smile to his lips before walking towards the central computer, waiting for some of the files that Shinwoo and Logan would get.

                “We were friends, best friends even,” Mars smiled weakly pulling out recent images and recordings of you, like Strickland's weapon. The others saw the smile fade on his lips as he looked through the files, some of the others already approaching with similar expressions, “we are in this situation because we would do anything for her.”

                Images and videos of you at different times appeared on the screen, some visions that the boys had already seen, especially during the period in the refugee camp, but what really surprised them was the subtle changes you allowed yourself to make when you believed no one was watching, as they realized that some of the footage was taken by the Black Pirates, the ones who were incarcerated, who had spent time with you.

                “This is the latest,” Lucky handed a small flash drive to Mars who quickly connected it to the computer, opening the file, “Nightingale sent it with a warning notice.”

                Everyone exchanged curious glances before the video started. Mars quickly called everyone to come closer, taking their place. Only when Mars turned on the video and the faint, hoarse voice on the other end could be heard did everyone begin to understand what was going on.

                “Lee Junyoung, Member of the Black Pirates, asking for your forgiveness, sorry for not being strong enough,” some voices are heard in the background and the camera moves. The place was still a little dark, the space entirely covered in cement, but it could still be seen reflections of light on the floor that none of those present wanted to think too much about. “She’s here, I can hear her.”

                Silence then ensues before footsteps join in with the slam of a door closing. Some murmurs can be heard, but the camera doesn't move, until your voice is heard, and it doesn't take long for your silhouette to be seen by the camera.

                “Leave us,” you say looking at Lee Junyoung from afar, two more people with you, one being Jeongin, your third in command, the other, ATEEZ couldn't identify, but the others could by the angry murmurs that came out. Boots were heard, doors opening and closing, until you spoke again. “Did you really need to disfigure him?”

                “Just because you’re soft-hearted doesn’t mean I need to be.”

                “What else did he say?” Jeongin asked seriously, looking at the stranger who just shook his head with a sneer, with a simple exchange of glances between you and Jeongin, you took a step forward while Jeongin got closer to the other. “You know everything we discover needs to be reported, the only way to not do that is to deface the informant, what did he say?”

                “Mom and Dad would be so disappointed to see you now.”

                So that was Jeongin's brother.

                Yunho's eyes fell on the Mirrors on the other side, everyone was visibly irritated, fists clenched and eyes hurting for the lack of blinking. This wasn't the first time they had seen a similar video. If there was a warning, it meant that the worst was yet to come.

                “Your mother and father barely know the difference between self-benefit and government benefit, your argument is invalid,” you commented close enough that your voice came out clearly, harshly, your movements were precise, but the movements of your fingers and hands were delicate, you didn't want to hurt that informant any longer. “What did you say for them to destroy you like that?”

                “(y/n), he is my prisoner -”

                “You let us come in and talk to him, which implies that we can also ask our questions, the camera will support our version,” Jeongin said with a smart smile at his brother who just showed his teeth irritably, but before he could say anything, Jeongin pointed at the camera with his head. “Take advantage of it and say ‘hi’ to Minho, nothing ever goes unnoticed by his eyes.”

                The brother just looked forward, muttering something that no one bothered to understand, but none of the ATEEZ questioned, possibly because you or Jeongin would say something if necessary.

                “It looks like you need to improve your work, Yang,” your mocking voice and blithe smile brought a smile to everyone's faces, despite the situation. “I'm sorry, can you open your mouth so I can take your dental arch and contact your family?”

                “After what I did, I don’t deserve this,” you had moved away enough for everyone to see your face, the kind smile that was also present in your eyes, almost like a warm hug. None of the ATEEZ boys have seen you smile like that since the refugee camp. “I informed you where the leaders will be, part of their possible plan, I don’t deserve it -”

                “Okay, so you can repeat it for me, right? So how about helping me give you something minimally worthy and telling me your name or allowing me to see your teeth?” From your smile and Jeongin's quick movements, everyone understood that you were being given permission to check his teeth, before Jeongin walked away with his eyes fixed on his brother. “Thanks, I know you didn’t need to do that.”

                “Oh please, he’s a rebel!”

                “Okay, that’s enough, you come with me.”

                Jeongin pulled his brother away, leaving you and Junyoung alone again, your kind eyes never disappearing, the smile that the boys loved to see on your lips was present, even if masked by a certain regret. Maybe you really wouldn't have followed in your parents' footsteps and put on the blocker.

                Instead of words, you walked away, taking a piece of cloth and turning on the tap, allowing the water to soak the white cloth before returning to Junyoung who moved in fright. After a while, he relaxed and you felt allowed to get closer.

                “I’ve heard about you before, but I didn’t believe what they said.”

                “Who was talking about me?”

                “The others, and... And the leaders.” With that sentence your movements stopped, they could see the blood draining from your face, but you quickly removed the scared expression, focusing again on cleaning what you could of Junyoung. The white of the cloth already pink. “Many fear you, after all, you are Strickland's weapon,” you both laughed before Junyoung started coughing, blood could be seen being spread across the front of the chair, getting some on your clothes, but you barely seemed to care. “When those who managed to escape talked about you, in moments like this, what you were like, I'm not going to lie, it was hard to believe, but the leaders were always supportive and said that if we could wish for anything if we were captured, it wasn't to be part of those who managed to escape, but rather be the ones who fell into your care.”

                “Did your leaders say that?”

                You laughed as if you couldn't believe it, but everyone could see a small sparkle in your eyes, even if it was small and momentary.

                “Whenever they go out in public there are rumors that your name is spoken by them, almost like a prayer,” your cynical laugh made a small, choked laugh come out of Junyoung, “I'm serious! We always wondered why they always said your name, but they never told us.”

                “And they won’t ever tell you, but don’t worry about it.”

                “There is a rumor that they are in love with you,” your eyes widened to the point were you able to disguise or regain the serene expression you had, Yunho noticed how uneasy the Mirrors were with that sentence and your reaction, poking Hongjoong who removed his eyes from you for the first time since the beginning of the video, a smart smile appearing as the gears in his mind worked, “it's not hard to believe that's true, considering they always say your name and when someone escapes, your name is the first one they ask, listening first to those in your care.”

                “What did you say to Yang?”

                Your voice became weak after a while, Junyoung understood that this was the moment he should remain silent and answer the questions.

                “There is a rumor that something big is going to happen, but no one other than the leaders know about it, they are going to one of the old bases to better elaborate the plan, but only they will go, in the meantime, some of our events will take place, as a way of distraction so none of you find them.”

                “And what did you say that caused you to be disfigured involves this rumor?” A pause and you sighed, the cloth in your hand already completely red before getting up and heading towards the sink, the sound of running water filling the space along with Junyoung's coughs and heavy breathing. “Can you tell me a little about this rumor?”

                “For some time now, there have been places and moments where no one is allowed entry or transit, the leaders are always cloistered, one or the other appearing, almost as if they disappear, the difference is that we know more or less where they are, so technically we can contact them, but still, we can't. It’s something they don’t want to see get away and it involves one of Strickland’s old bases.”

                Your eyes analyze every word said with every visible injury on Junyoung and a small strand of brightness appears in your eyes before you look away and focus on cleaning his arm, leg, and chest, who remains silent watching your movements.

                “I can make it quick if you want.”

                That was the only offering you could make.

                It didn't take much for others to know what you meant.

                “There’s one more thing, something I didn’t tell you before, but I think they would like you to know,” your lips formed a thin line and you just nodded, knowing that he had accepted your proposal. “Refugee camps are excellent places to get information and visibility about what is happening within the government, there are rumors that some members are being sent to different camps to get information and make the movement grow, at least one of the leaders is always there present in at least one of the places when something like this happens.”

                Your head nods gently as you absorb that information, they could see you questioning of what to do with that information before deciding to address it further. The memory of you spending four months in the refugee camps comes back to each of them, the fact that you didn't show surprise once you heard they might be there, your eyes were always more attentive than they normally are, the constancy of your presence and random visits to the informants you achieved during the period you were there.

                “I promise I will be quick and that I will make sure your family, if they are from here, know about what happened to you.”

                A small murmur was heard before they noticed you remove a knife from the boot you were wearing. Your eyes were now red, the shine of unfallen tears still present.

                “Won’t they find it suspicious if you kill me here with me tied up?”

                “I can’t ask that of you.”

                “You're not asking, I've already greatly dishonored everything I fought to achieve, give me at least this, even though I don't deserve it.”

                A small 'okay' was heard before you stabbed the knife into the arm of the wooden chair, close enough for him to reach, but not that it felt like it was on purpose, considering how close you had placed it to his arm, his reflex in the act, making everything clearer for anyone who wants to see the cameras again.

                You sighed and walked away, everyone being able to see the change in your features before your right hand was raised and the noise of it meeting Junyoung's face was the only sound heard before the resound of complaints of pain made by him.

                “You're as useless as the others, do you think I didn't already know everything you told me? That only buys you another week of cold showers followed by beatings, if you’re going to waste our time, let’s spend it on something that’s really worth it!”

                You walked away, making your expression clear to the camera before heading back to the sink, turning on the tap, letting the sound of the water be the only noise possible. Junyoung quickly moved his hand to grab the knife, using his right leg to push the handle closer, blood quickly forming on the clothes in contact with the blade.

                Once he had it, he ran the knife through the bonds quickly before staggering towards the sink. When your eyes met his, they were soft, almost like an apology before Junyoung launched himself at you, who quickly managed to pin him to the ground, sitting on his chest, your knees holding the arms of the Black Pirate who was trying to break free, even though he knew it was useless.

                Your face was a mixture of anger and regret, but everyone knew that only the latter was for the situation you found yourself in at that moment. Junyoung's groans were loud and they saw your arm stretch, indicating that your hand was either wrapping around his neck or his face, from your response of pain, Junyoung had bitten you, the sound of the door was quickly heard before you forced the arm to the side, probably your hand still trapped between Junyoung's teeth, while your other hand found the discarded knife next to you, digging the blade into the spot on your neck that you knew would be a quick and painless death – or at least it was what the studies said – causing Junyoung to stop completely.

                It was the movement of closing and opening your eyes that your expressions changed from regret to rigidity, to Strickland's weapon, your head raising and possibly finding Jeongin and the others who were participating in the interrogation previously. You looked back at Junyoung, moving closer to force his mouth open to free your hand, your voice low enough that it could have gone unnoticed if it hadn't been highlighted by whoever had access to that recording.

                “They are proud of you, don’t blame yourself for anything.” You finally backed away, pulling out the blood red knife, wiping it on Junyoung's clothes before facing the others. “I need to go to the infirmary, Jeongin and Ryujin stay here and take care of his body, let the others know that I'll be there,” your eyes ventured to another corner before a cynical smile appeared on your lips. “Oops!”

                The recording is then cut off.

                Mars' eyes fall on the ATEEZ boys who watch slightly intrigued by you. The others had their heads lowered, paying respects to what Junyoung had done. They would make a statement later, but now Mars needed to finish answering the question that Hongjoong always addressed when they were around, and he felt the urge to challenge the older man.

                “This is the new (y/n), now let's show the one we know,” Mars' hand found a flash drive that was in Shinwoo's hand. The steps were quick towards the computer, your image so close and clear that it could have been you there, but it wasn't you, it wasn't the (y/n) they had known, they had failed you, not just one or twice. That situation was one they wanted to avoid when they programmed everything all those years ago. “All the files we have on her and Strickland, are elsewhere, but if you want, we have some files here,” he pointed to the clutter of boxes the others had brought in before focusing on the computer again, “I'll also request Nightingale to delay the plan, just enough for us all to be in agreement.”

                The ATEEZ boys' eyes widened, Hongjoong watched Mars very carefully, trying to figure out if there was some kind of prank with that line, but Mars' face was as serious and true as the other times they had talked and exchanged information with each other.

                They would share the plan.

                ATEEZ would know everything.

                They were ready, even if the Black Pirates leaders weren't.

                It was the fifth time that you managed to knock Seungmin to the mat, a victorious smile danced on your lips each time it happened, but this time, he was faster, managing to trip you, making you fall on your back while he climbed on top of you, getting between your legs, Seungmin being on top, your legs wrapping around his waist while he held your wrists with one hand, the other going against your right thigh, trying to reduce the pressure you were putting on his waist. You noticed his eyes fall to the side of your body, a small sigh of relief leaving his lips when he noticed that your stitches hadn't opened.

                “It took a while, but you did it, Minnie!”

                Changbin's teasing made everyone laugh, including you, but Seungmin just brought his face closer to yours, mere centimeters away, his lighthearted smile present as his eyes roamed your face and neck.

                “If you’re going to kiss me, you better do it soon.”

                “You sure would want that, wouldn’t you boss?” Instead of moving away, he brought his face closer to the hollow of your neck, before nibbling the area, making you hold back a moan, but squeezing his waist between your legs, making him laugh against your skin. “It looks like the brat hasn’t been tamed in the last few sessions.”

                “Maybe you, Minho, Jeongin and Chan should visit me more often.”

                Your eyes met and Seungmin's lips approached yours before he bit and pulled your lower lip between his teeth, making you meet his lips and begin a real kiss, receiving some comments from the others present, bringing a laugh from both of you as his face hid in your neck again.

               “Dibs next practice so (y/n) can be my partner!”

                You heard Chaeryeong's voice loud enough to make everyone laugh before your fingers found the back of Seungmin's left hand and he quickly released you, you doing the same with his waist. The sound of a phone ringing quickly caught Changbin's attention and he quickly walked away while Seungmin helped you stand.

                “Boss, Minho needs to talk to you,” the satellite phone being handed to you by Changbin, his eyes were confused and slightly scared as your fingers found the phone, “he said it’s urgent.”

                Everyone exchanged quick glances, organizing to leave the training hall while you held the phone to your ear, trying to calm your breathing.

                “Speak.”

                You heard Minho sigh on the other end of the line.

                “It appears that one of the leaders of the Balck Pirates has been captured,” your breath caught in your throat, your gaze fixed on a spot on the mat, your mind going a mile a minute, “there is no confirmation of this yet, but from the way he was captured, they are saying he is one of the leaders, so he is being treated like one.”

                "How much time?"

                “They should arrive at Guardian’s Island in thirty minutes,” you can hear Minho’s fingers fast against the keyboard, indicating with your hand for everyone to follow behind you, they needed to get to Guardian’s Island as quickly as possible. “Jeongin, Hyunjin and Jisung are trying to get information, but as our team is selected to take over the island from tomorrow, we will be responsible for the leader,” your breathing came out heavy and relieved, Changbin already accelerating the car, your eyes met with Yeji who was just waiting for Changbin to leave first. “Once we got the information, Chan was able to move our shift forward somewhat, so our shift will start at 1900 hours.”

                “Okay, I'm on my way with the others, we should arrive in fifteen minutes.”

                “I’ll ask one of the boys to update you when you get there, don’t forget to take a shower, stinky.”

                Your laughter mixed together, capturing the attention of Yeji, Ryujin and Chaeryeong, who shared the car with you.

                “Maybe you should update me, right Minho?”

                “If I go with you, who will be sure where the leader will be and who he will be with?”

                “Touché!” Your laugh was fun, joyful even, but your mind was racing a mile a minute thinking about everything that had happened in the last sixteen months. “Don’t lose him, Min, send Chan to watch the door, I want Jeongin and Jisung on guard, ask Hyunjin to meet me at the entrance to update me, don’t forget to send us our communication points.”

                Quickly, you connected the cars, thanking Chan, Minho and Seungmin for the idea, which was more important at that moment than ever before. The last thing you needed was superiors knowing what you were planning to get even a minute alone with the potential leader. As soon as you explained the matter, Changbin and Yeji accelerated the cars, allowing you to arrive on the island in ten minutes, the siren that was used by only a few Strickland teams, helping considerably to make that happen.

                “Fifteen minutes away,” was the first thing Hyunjin said, already standing next to you handing over the paperwork that Jeongin had recently obtained. Your hand quickly went to your side, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by the shadows that were quickly beside you. "How are you?"

                “What are the updates?” Hyunjin let out an irritated sigh, but did as asked while everyone made way for you and your team. “Who is escorting the leader?”

                “Yang, Jeongin’s brother,” you rolled your eyes, letting out a low growl that only the shadows heard holding back the laughter, after all you were in public, on Guardian’s Island, you needed to contain your reactions to a minimum. “Jeongin said he’d take care of it, after all, even though they captured the leader -”

                “They’re not in charge of overseeing Guardian’s Island, yes,” your complement received a simple nod of agreement, barely noticed by you as your eyes skimmed over the information Jeongin had gotten. “Don’t you have any photos? How did they manage to catch this leader?”

                “They decided that until we know who he is, the image will not be released in any way,” before you could argue, Hyunjin continued his monologue, pushing one of the doors that led underground for Ryujin to pass and then you, “he was captured during a rebel performance by the Black Pirates, considering everyone went to protect him, they believed there was some reason.”

                “It’s not something they’ve ever done before, we can agree on that,” your eyes skimmed over the transcript that Jeongin had managed to grab, it was his brother going over what had happened and how many had been captured and why he believed he had caught one of the leaders, as well as the transcript of his conversation with one of his superiors, Park Jinyoung. “Are Jeongin and Jisung already in position?”

                Your eyes finally looked up, meeting Hyunjin's looking around them before focusing on you and nodding, allowing a small smug smile when he noticed no one was near them.

                “Your communication point,” he finally delivered the point you and the team shared before delivering Ryujin's, “Minho said that Chan was also already positioned in the possible containment room, you just need to go take a shower and stop by the Infirmary to see the cut, or at least use a cover up for it, and we will tell you where it will be.”

                So that was the reason for the smile that you could now also see present on Ryujin, but before he could say anything, Minho's voice appeared in his ear.

                “Stinky, Chan has your uniform and bandages if you want them, Ryujin will stand guard until you are ready and Hyunjin will escort you to the floor the leader is on.”

                “And why the hell don’t you guys want to tell me where he’s going to be?”

                “Because we know you enough to know that you will ignore everything and everyone to get a second alone with the leader,” Chan's laugh in your ear made you roll your eyes before opening the folder that Hyunjin had given you again, looking for any information you may have missed, “and also because we still don’t know where they’re going to put him, we have three options, but until he arrives, we can’t be sure.”

                “Okay,” you sighed, handing the folder to Hyunjin who was smiling victoriously, making you lightly slap his face, bringing a laugh to his throat before speeding up your pace, standing next to Ryujin, “we are a few steps away from the bathroom, Ryujin will wait outside after confirming that no one is there, Hyunjin will stay downstairs as an extra eye for the possible leader's arrival.”

                Everyone agreed with that line, Hyunjin quickly turned around when Ryujin emerged from inside the bathroom confirming that it was clear to enter. Thankful that no one was present, your fingers were quick to release the freezing water against your skin, making your entire body twitch and the scar on your side look freshly made, but you needed it, needed the shock, needed to think clearly.

                You didn't know who had been captured, hell, you didn't even know if you had actually been one of them or a pawn in the game they were playing. Despite everything, your mind couldn't stop thinking about the last sixteen months since their first contact in four years with you, that this was the third contact – you hoped – they had made.

                As soon as you got out of the shower, Ryujin was back inside the bathroom, your clothes, bandages and personal items on the bench next to her. Your hands were quick to dry every part of your skin and hair as best you could, your mind thinking about all the possible scenarios that this could all bring if it were true or not.

                “You don’t seem to believe he’s one of the leaders.”

                Your eyes fell on Ryujin who was looking at you in the mirror in the entrance sinks, you scoffed before placing the used towel in the basket and approaching you friend, picking up your things. The pendant around your neck weighed considerably more than at any time in the last two and a half years. Ignoring the reflection of gold and glass in the mirror in front of you, you held Ryujin's gaze who gave you a smirk before shaking her head, still waiting for your answer.

                “They always did everything they could to not get caught, why would that change now?”

                Ryujin seems to agree and you notice her gaze fall on the scar on your side, the stitches still holding the irritated, pink skin together. You knew that she and the others blamed themselves for that, her, Hyunjin, Jeongin and Chan in particular.

               “We were mobbed,” your voice was soft, Ryujin's scoff along with the roll of her eyes made you laugh instead of getting annoyed, “we were outnumbered and they knew the area better than us, not counting the interference at the points of communication, you have to stop charging each other for things that are beyond our control.”

                “Look in the mirror and repeat these words and I will start to believe.”

                You both laughed, but Ryujin laughed when you threw one of your boots towards her, hitting the girl's hip. Thanking you for the lapse of thought in what was happening at that moment, you left Ryujin to clean herself up in the bathroom along with Chaeryeong and Yeji who were following close behind, heading to meet Hyunjin who was holding the gun with his arms tensed while you connected the communication point and fastened the buttons on your wrists.

                “Hyunjin?”

                “They have already arrived,” his speech was quick, his gaze directed towards the entrance door, guiding yours along, understanding the reason for the tension due to the countless cameras there and the number of reinforcements that had been called to the entrance. “According to Minho and Jeongin, all the superiors were called, not only from National Security but the main politicians as well,” your eyes met and you swallowed knowing what that meant, “they believe we have one of the leaders.”

                “Any news on the others?”

               “The girls will watch the entrances and exits, I will watch the floor together with Jisung and Jeongin, Minho will watch the cameras directing where everyone should go, Chan will watch the door to the anteroom where you will be, Changbin will watch our back so that no one follows us, Yongbok and Seungmin will be our extra eyes and possible distractions if necessary.”

               "OK."

               Your eyes fell on a small spot hiding near the reinforcements imposed at the entrance, a small smirk left your lips when you noticed Changbin approaching cautiously so as not to be noticed.

                “Released, fourth floor, room six.”

                Your steps were quick as Minho's voice indicating the location where the captured leader had been taken was informed. You could barely hear your and Hyunjin's footsteps on the floor of the building, the blood pulsing in your ears and the heart that felt like it would come out of your mouth. If everyone was going to come, it meant that whatever time you got was advantageous. Chan had said that he managed to buy enough time for the superiors to arrive so that you could have your time alone, but that the corridor would be occupied not only by your team, but also by whoever was responsible for keeping watch over the island until the shift change.

                As soon as the elevator opened, the floor was full of people, both from the government and researchers, including some politicians of little notoriety. Everyone clearing a path for you as soon as they noticed the doors opening. Hyunjin right behind you, finger on the trigger if necessary, your eyes, however, were fixed on the first door you would have to go through. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, releasing it only when clearance was indicated and Hyunjin turned around, guarding you as you entered the second anteroom before the door that connected you with the corridor that would direct you to whoever had been captured.

                The words coming out of the satellite call you received made your entire body vibrate, they had finally captured one of the leaders. You would finally have your answers, but your body was tense. Who would have been captured? What questions would you ask? Should you ask the questions that have been swirling around your mind for the past two years?

                The door that connected you to the corridor that would make you see one of the leaders face to face after two years seemed heavy, your feet were planted on the floor, your hands were shaking slightly. Which one did you want to see? All of them, that was the answer, but only one was there, a few meters away from you, two doors and a corridor separated the two of you. So, who exactly did you want to see?

                The faces of each of the eight leaders flashed through your mind. It had been four years already – almost five – how different could they be? How would they be? Did they miss you as much as you missed them? Your eyes closed and you shook your head nimbly, it didn't matter how the room rotated, you needed to get in there without those thoughts, without those feelings.

                With a sigh and a slight shake of your body, you finally raised your hand, the fingerprint coming into contact with the reader, the keyboard opening so you could enter your code, the camera turning on so you could show your badge, the identification was ready, complete. The door opened, the corridor was busy enough that it seemed small, but silence soon fell and people pressed themselves against the wall of the corridor, some even opening the doors so it would give you more space to walk.

                Although this was a common habit, considering your history – both family and career –, it still bothered you a little whenever something like this happened. Never knowing whether it was respect or fear, even though you knew that fear was a feeling, therefore it shouldn't exist, but then why did you feel your hands were sweating? Why were the thoughts that had been running through your mind since you received the call, were about feelings?

               Chan was standing in front of the door that would allow you to see who had been captured, the solid steel door making you question a thousand and one things, especially if you should really go through it. His eyes fell on you, a chill passed down your spine as you noticed how he held the gun. It was obvious that everyone would want to see one of the leaders of the Black Pirates up close, but never before you, even if force had to be used to do so.

                The Black Pirates and their leaders were yours and everyone in that hallway knew it.

                With a sigh, you nodded to Chan who returned it with a purse of his lips and a step to the side, just enough for you to do your ID check. As soon as the confirmation tone was heard, murmurs and footsteps were heard behind, but with a simple glance over the shoulder and a few steps from Chan, many stopped and fell silent.

                Respect.

               Fear.

                You couldn't tell, just like you couldn't tell if these feelings were directed at you or the person who was on the other side of the door, just waiting for your presence.

                “No one comes in until I leave,” Chan nodded and they both exchanged quick glances. “Cameras?”

                “Minho has already turned everything off, the room is yours to do whatever you want.”

                “Anything, I’ll get in touch.”

                Your fingers went to your ear, indicating the point of communication you had with the rest of your team. A small nod from Chan and quick 'oks'' were heard, confirming that everything was clear, that it would just be you and whoever was on the other side of the door.

                With a quick movement, you disconnected your communication point, you could hear your team, but they couldn't hear you. You would be completely alone, at least until the superiors arrived at the compound, which you expected would take a while. The last voice you wanted to hear was Yongbok or Minho in your ear, at least until you got information, whatever they had to offer you.

                When the click of the door was heard, it seemed like everyone in the hall held their breath, which was expected considering everything the leaders had been able to do in the last two, three years. The opening was small, just enough for you to pass through, a certain feeling of possessiveness came over you, not wanting anyone to see whoever was inside that room.

                You did your best to hide everything deep in your soul, everything that had ever happened, everything they did to you. You needed to keep a cool head, it had been almost five years since you had seen or had contact with any of them, nothing since your birthday, your chest and neck becoming considerably heavy and you considered removing what brought that weight, but something always prevented you from doing so, even now that would probably consider best to take it off.

                The closing of the door behind you sounded like a click, but your eyes remained on the floor, even after hearing the movement coming from the table in the center of the room. For a moment, you wished you had grabbed a notepad or the folders with the information about the Black Pirates' operations, even the folder with the information that Jeongin had gotten would have sufficed, but you were too eager to interrogate anyone, to be in the same space as any of them.

                Pathetic, that's what you were.

                When your eyes finally lifted from the ground, almond eyes looked back at you, mouth slightly open. His hair was longer, falling down the back of his neck, adorning his already perfect face. The stoic beauty was still there; did you expect it to be gone? That your lack of presence had affected any of them in the same way that their lack had affected you?

                Your steps were shaky and you were grateful for your training at that moment, grateful for the number of times you had walked that route, ignoring the way his brown eyes roamed every part of your face, your body. Four years had already passed. You weren't the same little girl he knew.

                “Is it strange to say that I didn’t expect it to be you?” Your voice was almost light, a smile struggled to appear on your lips. He was fine, he looked fine, that should be a good thing, right? “Did they treat you well?”

                It wasn't until you sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the table, arms resting on the cold metal, that you finally looked him in the eyes. The almond-shaped eyes were slightly wide, staring at you. Everyone was beautiful, but Mars and him always had an ethereal beauty compared to others.

                “Yes,” the thick and light voice made your heart beat faster, making you bristle at how much of an effect they could still have on you. The brown eyes went to his hands that were intertwined on the table, not far from yours, it was as if he was afraid to stretch them out, to touch you, as if he hadn't done that several times before. “They treated me well, yes, thank you for coming to visit me.”

                His eyes finally met yours, but it was then that you noticed something missing from the face of the man in front of you. Despite everything, you noticed his eyes roaming your face, worried, as if you had said something wrong.

                “Are you hiding your birthmark now?” He was taken by surprise; did he really think you wouldn't remember? One of the things that made him more unique in your vision?, didn't he remember how many times your fingers gently passed over the pink skin in the corner of his eye and temple? “Who had this idea? Lucky? Shinwoo?”

                You laughed weakly, but when his eyes showed confusion and his body moved a little away from you, his knuckles turning white, you knew something was wrong. The two of you remained silent for a moment, just staring at each other, until he looked away, fingers playing between his hands.

                The chair beneath you was moved lightly, catching the attention of the man in front of you, his eyes going everywhere but your face, settling on your body as you approached him, his eyes falling on your covered thigh of the uniform, your left hand resting on the table, not far from his arm, you can see the hair on his arm standing up.

                It was when your right hand slowly went towards where the birthmark was, that something caught his attention. The man became agitated, even more so when your fingers lightly touched the mark, noticing that foundation stained your skin. He really was hiding it. Despite everything, it was the reaction that came afterwards that completely destabilized you.

                “How do you know about my birthmark?”

                The world seemed to open up under your feet. The table no longer supported you, you only realized that your body had fallen when the firm hands of the man in front of you held you by the waist, electric shocks being sent throughout your body. The touch was the same, the place he held was the same, the pressure was the same, the worried eyes were the same, but it wasn't him.

                "It's not possible."

                Your voice came out weak and low enough to be nothing more than a whisper, but you noticed when the man in front of you watched you curiously. There was no way they had done what you thought they did.

                Confirmation came when the stranger's hands released your waist, one of them feather like on your back. Logan would never leave you completely free like that, not in the state you were in at that moment, but that wasn't Logan.

                The voice was the same, the face was the same, the birthmark was the same, even the fucking body was the same, making you aware of how you were holding the stranger's biceps, a way to stabilize yourself since his hands were no longer around you. Logan would never leave you completely free like that. You needed to get out of there, you needed to get out of there now.

                However, as always happened when you were around them, your body failed you, causing the stranger to wrap his arms around your waist again, your face coming into contact with his shoulder, his scent intoxicating you, Logan's scent, but he wasn't Logan. Yongbok's voice quickly reached your ear, but it seemed like nothing worked, that you didn't work, just like you never completely worked around him, around them, but he wasn't Logan.

                A bang was heard and soon two arms wrapped around you, the stranger's scent quickly being replaced by Hyunjin's, it was then that you looked up, finding Changbin and Chan holding the stranger away from you. His worried eyes changed to irritated when they met those of your team. Your hand squeezed Hyunjin's arm, trying to make you think.

                You had seen that expression before, Logan was angry, just like he rarely was, but that wasn't Logan. That could only mean one thing and you held back the cynical laugh that wanted to escape your throat. With a light tap of your fingers on Hyunjin's arm, he released your body a little more, when he saw that you were already able to stand on your own, he walked away, taking the gun and pointing it at the stranger.

                The trigger seemed to scare him. Despite everything, his eyes fell on you, checking every part of your body, finishing on your face, looking for something you had no idea what it was, his eyes quickly became hard when he noticed Hyunjin approaching you, Changbin's arm putting pressure on the stranger's throat, but his eyes never left you, there was something different in Logan's eyes, but that wasn't Logan. Your steps were firm, determined, contrary to what was happening in your mind, but it was enough to make the stranger stop fighting Chan and Changbin, his eyes focused on you, the shadow of something unknown passing through the brown eyes so known, but so strange to you. A small sigh and closing of your eyes made you look at him a little more.

                “They arrived and are coming here, what do you want to do?”

                Chan's voice was hard, Changbin still held the stranger; Chan was facing you, waiting for orders; Hyunjin had the gun pointed at the stranger's head. Yongbok's voice was present again at your communication point, making you sigh and connect the point again.

                “How long do we have?”

                “Seungmin is distracting them with the capture information, but no more than ten minutes,” you sighed at Yongbok’s response, eyes falling back on the stranger. The questions just multiplying every second you stared at him. “Seven minutes.”

                “Let him go,” the order reverberated through the space. When Changbin finally released the stranger, his eyes fell on you again, as questioning as yours. “I need one of you to keep watch, I’ll need to come back here after talking to the superiors.”

                “Jeongin won’t be too pleased to hear this.”

                You and the other three on your team exchanged small laughs, but the stranger's eyes never left you, making you extremely aware of his presence.

                “Keep constant guard,” you said loudly and clearly so that even those listening through the crack in the shielded door guarded by Jisung could hear. “I'm going to speak to superiors, he's P15, do you understand?”

                Everyone nodded and Yongbok's voice was present in your ear again.

                “3 minutes, (y/n), you guys need to get out of there!”

                “Chan, go back to guarding the door, make sure no one opens their fucking mouth, understood?” Everyone nodded and you pointed you head for them to leave, Changbin being more resistant to leaving you last with the stranger. “Changbin, we don’t have time.” The older man nodded and left shaking his head, you and your team were scheduled to be on guard duty, even if only from the next day onwards, so it wouldn't be at all strange. “This isn’t over, you hear?”

                The stranger's almond-shaped eyes followed your every move, feeling his eyes burning into your back, but you did your best to ignore it. The image of him fighting Chan and Changbin comes back to him.

                The door slammed behind you.

                That wasn't Logan.

                Jisung quickly hands you one of the rifles and you quickly pull the trigger.

                They wouldn't do that.

                The entire hallway is silent.

                That wasn't Logan.

                The release beep is triggered on the other side of the corridor which is completely silent as the door opens, five of the seventeen superiors enter with the mission of passing through the door behind you.

                You need to find out who the stranger is.

                Your mother takes the lead, her eyes falling on you with a proud smile, making you hold a confused look, probably she and your father finally had the courage to turn off the blocker after all that time after all. The door behind you lets out a clearance beep and you wait for them to enter until you hand the locked gun to Jisung, exchanging a simple look with Chan who shakes his head before taking his place in front of the door.

                You needed to calm down.

                You needed to think.

                It was only when your fingers wrapped around a doorknob you hadn't touched in a long time, that you realized where your feet had taken you. It wasn't far from where the stranger was, but it was secret enough that the lock was old.

                Your fingers were quick to search for the box of hair clips long forgotten in the corner. A smile formed, growing with each turn of the door, finally releasing Strickland's forbidden warehouse.

                Your breath caught in your throat, feet planted on the ground, hands shaking and vision blurry.

                You hadn't been to this place in five years.

                For five years you've been trying to forget everything.

                Five years ago you tried to meet one of them, but in the end, that didn't happen.

                A small noise on the stairs made your feet move quickly and the door closed behind you with a soft click. Almost as if you had gone to that place yesterday, your feet knew exactly where to step, taking you to the painting that reminded you of the image you had seen a moment ago.

                If the hair were black, straight, and with the birthmark on the eye and temple, you'd think you were looking at a painting of Logan, but that wasn't Logan. It doesn't matter the appearance, the smell, the touch... The one who spoke to the superiors a few stairs up, was not Logan. You needed another name for him, as you knew he wasn’t going away anytime soon.

                The eyes passed over the frame, finding the small copper plate with the name of the artist (both the original and the person who made the copy) and the work. The Fallen Angel, by Alexandre Cabanel. It was at that moment that you named the first leader lookalike.

                That wasn't Logan, so you'd give him another name, Angel.

                The sigh took over the space, seeing Logan – or whoever Angel was – after so long had made your entire body stiffen without you realizing it. Your eyes roamed every possible place of vision, some paintings, painted ceramic vases, some vinyl records, the painting that was now on your back, so similar to the person who was a few floors above, so similar to Logan.

                Despite everything, what hurt the most was the fact that it wasn't Logan, even after everything that had happened, they didn't go find you, they didn't have the courage to show their face to you. This could all just be a joke. A joke in extremely bad taste, because they would never do that, not after when you and your brother discovered what had happened in both dimensions with the respective ten Mirrors.

                But still, Angel was there, a few floors up, talking to your superiors, a constant reminder that this was true, that they had really done it, but it couldn't be true, could it? Just as you hadn't seen each other for almost five years, you changed, they may have changed too, maybe that was just another plan of theirs to destroy you completely.

                The lessons you've heard all your life, especially at Prestige Academy, getting stronger and stronger in your head. You were letting yourself be controlled by emotions, you were letting yourself fall into the temptation of the worst situation you could allow yourself to be in, you were letting yourself be controlled by the worst thing that could have ever existed, but at the same time you couldn't let go of the eight men. They seemed like they would never let you forget everything that happened, how they corrupted you before destroying you completely.

                But no.

                You were there, alive, breathing, thinking for yourself, making a name for yourself. Owning who you were, even if it was something they always told you to do, even though it seemed wrong, that was the best gift they could have given you. Your fingers familiarly passed over the pendant, the cool outlined gold on your fingers, the place where the eight pieces of shards joined together to form a single heart seemed to pop out more than usual, the gold meeting point being the only warm part of the entire pendant, the part they said it meant you.

                Your hand quickly let go of the necklace and you felt your eyes burn, but no tears fell, just as they hadn't fallen in almost five years for them, just as they hadn't fallen in almost three years since your brother. They didn't deserve your tears; they were never there to wipe them away in the last five years, let alone after everything happened. They had completely abandoned you and you needed to accept that sooner or later.

                The doorknob was cold against your skin. The silent turn followed by the quick glance to see if no one was nearby, your footsteps quickly fell away from the warehouse, or repository as your brother would like to call it. Your heart was pounding against your chest, as if you were doing something forbidden – which technically, you weren't doing anymore, thanks to your position – like the scared girl from years before who didn't know better than to trust eight strangers who occupied your heart and mind for years before disappearing completely when you needed it most.

                Your feet quickly made their way up the stairs, the thoughts so airy that it took you a while to process that there was someone else on the stairs, only noticing when one of their hands grabbed your neck, squeezing just enough to cut off circulation, the person's body pinning you against you and the concrete wall, the constriction not helping you to have any type of reaction.

                “He was mine, I got him on my own,” Yang, you wanted to say, but nothing came out, nothing but small sighs, which brought a bitter laugh from the older one. “You and your brother always thought you had the right to be in charge of everything, just because your family is responsible for Guardian’s Island, doesn’t mean you are better than anyone else, better than me.”

                You could hear Yang's breathing at the base of your ear, you felt his hand running down the left side of your body. A heavy cough took hold of your throat, but before you could react, both of your hands were raised above your head, your body still pressed between his and the wall, your right leg restrained by both of his, you were an easy target, you needed to think and get out of there.

                “We never thought we were better than anyone else,” your voice came out hoarse, broken, but you didn't let it affect you, your eyes never leaving Yang's face who had a cynical smile on his lips, mere centimeters from you. “It’s not his fault that he was always better than you, it’s not my fault that you couldn’t evolve enough, it’s not Jeongin’s fault that he’s better than you.”

                “Is that why you fuck my brother?”

                A cynical laugh came out of your throat, irritating him even more.

                “I fuck your brother, yes, and hell!, you have no idea how good he is in bed!” You could notice how those lines affected Yang, hoping that he could release at least some of the pressure against your body so that you could let go of him. “His mouth then, fuck he knows how to use that mouth, one of my favorite things to do is sit on his face while he holds me against him, not caring if I'm suffocating him, just to hear me say his name, never his last name, he loves it when I cum on his face calling him Innie, or when he cums inside me, he -”

                “So this is what you like?” Yang's face was red and angry, but you could feel his bulge in your hip. “Talking about what you do with -”

                “No,” you cut him off with an amused smile, bringing your face closer to Yang, the tiniest millimeters between you, “but by how hard your cock is against my hip it tells me you like it.”

                His lips pressed hard against your and you bit his lower lip until you tasted blood in your mouth, biting even harder when he tried to pull away. Shock reverberated throughout your body from the cut that was still healing on your left side. Yang's hands were no longer on you, but the force of the punch he threw against your wound was enough to make you fall to the ground, eyes watering in pain, lip almost bleeding from how much you were biting it, trying to hold back any kind of indication of pain.

                “You will end up like your brother.”

                A kick to your side, close to the scar.

                A kick to your back, close to the back of the head.

                A kick to the lower back.

                Footsteps not far away, doors opening and closing, some murmurs.

                Your eyes opened weakly seeing a remnant of Yang running away from you. A pained sigh left your lips, the footsteps and murmurs closer. You needed to get out of there. You need to go somewhere to recover. Where no one could find you in that situation.

                The repository.

                As quickly as you could, you dragged yourself down the stairs, your side hurting considerably more than any other part of your body. The two hair clips you had used before were still irresponsibly left aside, but you quickly grabbed them, opening the warehouse door again forcing your body inside, closing the door with a soft click.

                The footsteps and murmurs present but muffled.

                Your breathing was heavy, the pain still radiating throughout your body.

               Your eyes closed heavily, trying to make you think about something else, calming your breathing. By fate's karma, your mind took you to the nine people who, for a long time, were the most important in your life.

                Memories of you running through the forest, of the care that the eight of them had for you, how your brother looked at everything with an amused, proud, affectionate look. How much he trusted the eight to take care of you. When you went to the lake hidden in the forest, when you realized that the vision you had of the eight of them changed, how you became aware of their bodies, of their bodies against yours, of the touches exchanged, of the simple kisses they placed on your face, but never on your lips where you began to desire them most.

                Even when you came up with the crazy-sounding theory that if they could travel between dimensions, that meant they existed in these others, that maybe it would be fun to find out who each one was in each reality. How sad you all were when you discovered the realities, but still, everyone said how smart you had been, creating scenarios with you in other realities in which you would be together the same at that moment.

                Your mind just reminding you of how happy they made you.

                Static returning to your ear, followed by Jeongin’s voice. Realizing that you had lost track of time. Your body no longer so sore. The cold sweat had long since stopped falling. Forcing yourself to stand, forcing a normal posture, ignoring the ache on your left side, trying to mask any possible moments of pain.

                “(y/n)? Where are you? Your mother is looking for you.”

                “Don't worry, I'm coming,” the voice was weak, but your feet were quick towards the door, your mind going back and forth between the past and who was at that moment with the superiors. A cynical laugh left your lips before you took the handle of the repository, sighing before turning it. “What the hell did you guys do now?”

                You groaned, already imagining the headache that situation would cause.

                There was no way they had actually done that.

                Even though your feet directed you to the place you were before, your mind wandered to the corners of your room, wondering where you had hidden that diary. Still in disbelief at how stupid they would have to be, you managed to hold back your curiosity enough to join your team in the hallway, but you were quickly stopped by your mother, her curious eyes falling on you.

                “He said he only talks to you.”

                You were completely fucked.

                "Why me?"

                You managed to say, eyes staying up. The superiors all stood in the hallway alongside Chan, Jisung and Changbin, Hyunjin quickly appearing behind you as soon as the door that connected to the hallway closed.

                “That's something we want to know,” the older woman's eyes were wary but curious, predatory almost. Something had happened since the last time you saw your parents, probably the combination of the trauma of what happened and the immediate use of the blocker had done what your brother always warned you it could happen, your parents had almost gone crazy, not being able to deal with everything. "Let's go then?"

                You nodded, Hyunjin not leaving your side, Chan following the two of you into the room in which Angel was still present. Eyes fixed on his crossed hand on the metal table. The eyes do not change expression or direction at any time. Your mother told you to stay in a far corner, Hyunjin and Chan quickly staying on either side of you.

                “We just want to know who you are and why they protected you,” Park Jinyoung spoke for what seemed like the umpteenth time and, for the umpteenth time, he was ignored by Angel who just closed his eyes, keeping his breathing steady. At least that hadn't changed, bringing a slight smile that you covered by running your hand over your nose. “Do you think she will be able to save you?”

                “I don’t mind being saved, but I only talk to her.”

                Angel's unbothered voice made you and the others hold back a laugh at the vein that popped out of Jinyoung's neck. He was one of the best known for his lack of patience.

                “(y/n),” all eyes fell on you with Eden’s speech, except Angel’s who remained fixed on his hands, “can you please take charge of the interrogation?”

                “Yes, sir,” almost immediately, Angel's eyes found you in the corner between Hyunjin and Chan who were still staring at the stranger, still not knowing why you and him were so close when they entered the room before you leave. “Is there a specific one or can I lead it naturally?”

                “We want to know why he only talks to you.”

                Jinyoung's voice was irritated, his eyes clearly angry at the fact that Angel ignored all the questions, and the use of torture was not possible until he identified Angel's hierarchical level within the Black Pirates.

                “Unfortunately, I don’t know what to inform you General Park, but I guarantee that I will do my best to get the necessary answers,” you said in monotone, eyes focused on your feet receiving a scoff from Jinyoung who got up from the chair leaving you free to seat. Chan and Hyunjin on each side. “Good afternoon, I believe we have not been introduced, my name is (y/n), could you tell me yours so we can check the records?”

                Your eyes finally landed on Angel's who was watching you with a hint of mischief, but no reaction could be seen on his face. They had improved reactions considerably in recent years, you could tell.

                “When I informed you that I would only speak to you, I will keep my word and speak only to you.”

                You held back your laughter. The eternal word game that always happened between you and them. Again, the doubt of who the person in front of you was, took place. Logan, Lucky, Uno and Shinwoo were the ones who always did this to you. That line meant he would talk to you, but only if you and him were alone.

                “I'm happy to know that my fame has reached the ears of the Black Pirates thanks to the demand in my presence so that any exchange of information can take place,” you gave a slight smile, aware of the superiors' eyes on you. After all, there was a reason why your team was one of the best, you were the best interrogator they had, getting information without having to break anyone to get it, information out of desperation is what you called information gathered from torture, you boasted for achieving them without needing to do so, the vast majority of which are correct. “Despite everything, I need to know the basics so we can follow the process smoothly, what do you think?”

                You notice the subtle shake of the head of the man in front of you. A tic Logan didn't have, but you tried not to show it. A small smirk appeared on the lips of the stranger who leaned his body on the table, hands mere millimeters away from yours.

                “You have no idea how famous you are among the Black Pirates,” everyone's posture changed inside the room. This was the first piece of information he had made available since he had been captured, “your fame has several ramifications, some I can already prove as correct,” his eyes traveling all over your face, resting for a longer time on your lips, making you moisten them, making the stranger's eyes meet yours and a shy smile appear on his lips. “However, I cannot say the same about your superiors.”

                Movement was noticed throughout the space, but neither you nor Angel seemed to care, eyes fixed on each other. Constantly ignoring how fast your heart was beating in your chest, asking anyone who would listen to stop the blood from flowing to your ears and cheeks.

                “We just want to know your position among the Black Pirates and why you were protected.”

                Angel sighed, throwing his body forward again, this time your knuckles touched, but none of you seemed affected, at least not on the outside.

                “Let's make one thing clear,” he remained motionless, his eyes never leaving yours, the superiors all already restless, “I will only speak to you, alone with you, and if there is any indication of the use of cameras, nothing more it will be shared.”

                “And who do you think you are to make these demands?”

                Angel's amused and victorious gaze fell on Jinyoung who was livid.

                “Within the Black Pirates there is a hierarchical chain just like there is anywhere else,” he sighed, his eyes meeting yours again, the different glow was back, the glow that indicated this wasn’t Logan, “let’s say I am more important than the ones you captured previously and if something happens to me,” the eyes returned to Jinyoung before focusing on one of the cameras near the main door, eyes turning darker, “you will regret it bitterly.”

                “Leave us,” your voice was harsh and quick, but still a refined request, especially considering everyone there was of a higher ranking than you. You could hear complaints, many of which were disregarded, but Eden's look in your direction made you propose something to Angel who was still looking at you with great curiosity, “but my team stays.”

                Everyone stopped watching Angel's reaction as he looked up at Chan and Hyunjin who stood firm beside you. Your head hurting considerably, your side and back were sore from the position and what Yang had done minutes ago, but you maintained your posture, noticing the cold sweat returning to the base of your forehead, noticing Angel's gaze falling exactly there before nod.

                Eden was the first to remove everyone, eyes fixed on you, waiting for any hint that something might happen.

                “Can we leave the cameras?” A slight startled reaction crossed Angel's face before landing on Eden, the delay in responding caused your superior to clear his throat, capturing everyone's attention. “Her team will be able to stay, we would like a camera just to monitor this first interaction, then we turn it off, we will remove the sound too.”

                “Only if Lee Minho is in charge of that.”

                Minho's name coming out so naturally from Angel's lips brought a certain surprise to everyone's eyes, realizing that he was not a mere pawn, but really someone important. Wait until they find out that he is identical to one of the leaders, you thought and cursed yourself shortly afterwards. Your mind trying to imagine why they had put someone like Logan to talk to you, to be the first to talk to you since everything happened.

                “Minho, are you listening?” The pressure on your comm point made everyone look at you, the interference letting you know he was listening. “I need you to go to the Security Area, take the girls and Jisung with you.”

                “Anything specific in mind?”

                “You know what to do, so do your best,” the static within the connection was what told you that part of your team was mobilizing, just like Jisung’s boots being heard behind the half-open door, “satisfied?”

                “Your file already told me that you wouldn’t disappoint me, but I’m happy to know that I was right in my analysis.”

                A gleam of victory was present in Angel's eyes before he looked past you, clearly expecting only you and your team to be present. When you heard the door slam, with a simple shake of your head, Chan and Hyunjin walked away, one at each end of the room. Shortly after, the door opened again, revealing Jeongin and Changbin.

                “Seungmin and Felix are taking care of the hallway.”

                Jeongin's voice was quick, his eyes falling on Angel who seemed unaffected, especially by Changbin who not long ago had his arm around his neck, almost suffocating him. When the change in Chan and Angel's expression was noticed by you, you realized you had your own reaction to that memory, trying to ignore Yang's hands on your neck, or the pain that was still in your side.

                Ignoring the ringing in your ear and how light your head was, you started to get up, calmly, thoughtfully. If Logan was lying, he wouldn't indicate he knew you. If Angel was well informed, he would do the same, even though you noticed a certain heightened curiosity every time his eyes fell on you.

                "Who are you?"

                “You can call me whatever you want,” the smirk had returned, even though you noticed the eyes alert for any movement from the four of your team. Barely looking like the stranger he did a while ago. “I'll save you time with playful questions,” he sighed, leaning his back against the back of the chair, his eyes never leaving your silhouette, “I know who you are, I know who your team is, I know that Bang Chan is your second in command, Hwang Hyunjin is your shadow, Seo Changbin is your weapons chief and physical trainer, I know that Yang Jeongin is your third in command, I also know that his brother is a big son of a bitch, now please ask the right questions.”

                Everyone held back their laughter at the speech about Jeongin's brother, everyone except you. The events on the stairs returning to your mind. Yang was a big son of a bitch, but the phrase he said before kicking you echoed in your mind, your eyes were far away, even though they were focused on Angel.

                “Do you know about my brother?”

                You saw everyone else freeze, but not Angel.

                Logan would have some kind of reaction as the others.

                That definitely wasn't Logan.

                “I thought knowing about you implied knowing about your brother.”

                “Right,” you said holding back a laugh, Angel just watched you as you walked with your fingers passing over the metal table, “and you don’t have anything to say about him?”

                “Ask the question you want; you know as well as I do that patience is not a virtue your superiors possess.”

                Your eyes rotated around the room, the eyes of the four fixed on the two of you. You ignored the icy drop that ran down your spine, or whether the bandage you had put on would be able to hold considering everything that had happened, or how your legs felt heavy and ready to give out at any moment. Sweat dripping down your temples.

                “I want names,” you said quietly, returning to stand next to Angel, exactly where you were before, being able to see your fingerprint on his temple, where the base hid the birthmark. “I want to know where Cromer is.”

               Angel's eyes analyzed you, curious, but analytical. There was doubt on his face, doubt that wasn't present before, you noticed the fidgeting of his hands, how his body turned towards you, but everything was too fast, and you felt your body fall. Fall on top of Angel.

                Automatically, Yeosang's hands found your waist, it was then that he realized the reason for your paleness, your cold sweat, your trembling and icy hand, your black clothes helping little for anyone to notice the blood that wet the area around your waist. Your head quickly found the gap in Yeosang's neck, breathing shallow, how long had you been like that?

                "Get away!"

                He didn't know whose voice it was, but he felt a tug on his shirt at the same moment his body was pulled away from yours. Jeongin held your pale and weak body, the shock on his face indicated two things: confirmation that you and your team did not have the blockers and that your condition was worse than Yeosang imagined. The hand on his shirt remained firm as he felt the exit of a gun stick to his temple. Hyunjin quickly goes around the table checking every part of your body.

                "What did you do with her?"

                From where the voice was coming from, he knew it was Chan, your second in command, but all he could focus on was how sticky his hand was, how much blood he could feel even with your clothes between his hand and your skin. The blood was fresh, and you had been bleeding long enough.

                When Hyunjin finally located the spot, his hands quickly went to open your uniform, which Yeosang realized seemed like something normal for him, judging how close you and your team really were. The black tank top you wore underneath was also soaked in blood, Yeosang felt the movement of the gun on his temple, felt the trembling of Changbin's hand on his shirt, saw the panicked look on Hyunjin and Jeongin's face.

                “The stitches opened...”

                Stitches? No one on his side knew about you getting stiches.

                “What do you mean they opened it, Hyunjin?”

                “But she was fine until -” everyone’s eyes fell on Yeosang, he could see the burn in Hyunjin’s eyes, “what did you do to her earlier?”

                “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about her not dying from blood loss?”

                They were Yeosang's first words, but something seemed to click in Chan who quickly lowered the gun, but none of the others made any move to move.

                “Hyunjin and Jeongin take her to the infirmary, we need to know what happened between her leaving here when everyone arrived and until now,” Yeosang saw the two nodding, Hyunjin picking you up while Jeongin made space for you, his eyes meeting with Yongbok who were as worried as the others, “Changbin, I need you to join Minho and the others to retrace her steps,” the hand didn't move from Yeosang's blouse who continued with his head down. “Changbin.”

                “It was him Chan, who else -”

                “It wasn't him,” Chan's voice surprised them both, Yeosang could see Yongbok's gears working from the door, trying to capture everything he could of what had happened, “if he had known he wouldn't have touched it, if he had touched it on purpose, he would have even more blood and he wouldn’t have reacted like we did.”

                “Chan -”

                “That’s an order, Bin!” Chan's voice rising was enough for Changbin to let go of Yeosang's shirt, but he didn't move a single muscle. “Take Seungmin with you, I need someone to watch the door until I leave.”

                The shaking of their heads was all the indication Yeosang needed to know that Chan could either beat him up or talk to him, he didn't know which was worse. Especially considering he had noticed Yeosang's reaction. Months and months of training thrown away in that second.

                “I never -”

                “Where do you know each other from?”

                Yeosang stopped and watched Chan who sat in the chair previously occupied by you.

                "We do not know each other."

                “I've known her long enough to know some of her reactions, and you, brought a reaction that I hadn't seen in her for a long time,” the gun was placed on the table, a test, the others had warned about the possibility of this happen, but not anytime soon, “I made a promise to her brother many years ago that I would help take care of her, I've been doing this full time for over two years -”

                “Have you been fucking your friend’s sister for over two years too?”

                It was a long shot, Yeosang knew, but it was something that Wooyoung, San and Yunho had pointed out in one of the last reviews before the mission started. From the clenching of Chan's jaw, Yeosang knew it was true, a smirk was present, but at the same time, certain irritability.

                “And what does this have to do with you?”

                “Nothing,” Yeosang said unbothered, smirk present, “I wonder what her brother would say if he knew his friend was fucking his sister -”

                Chan took the gun pointing it exactly between Yeosang's eyes who barely moved. Hard eyes, steady breathing, the opposite of Chan. A blur appeared and Yeosang soon noticed the presence of Yongbok taking the gun from Chan.

                “What do you think you’re doing?”

                “That’s called guilt, Yongbok,” the two’s eyes fell on Yeosang who was watching everything with an amused smile, “guilt for feeling attracted to his friend’s little sister who -”

                “Shut the fuck up!” Chan got up, throwing the chair away, Yongbok remained silent, observing everything, his eyes mostly on Yeosang, realizing that he knew a lot more than he seemed, that he knew much more personal things that he should never know. “Don’t open your mouth to talk about him, don’t open your mouth to talk about (y/n), don’t -”

                “Don’t open your mouth to talk about something that everyone knows isn’t forbidden at Strickland as long as feelings aren’t involved, right?” Yeosang's cynical smile brought a chill down Chan and Yongbok's spine. “I have no intention of saying anything that would harm her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

                “What is your obsession with her?”

                Yongbok had a voice as deep as Yeosang's, something that until that moment he had completely disregarded. The attention of the two on your team was fixed on Yeosang who just adjusted himself in the chair, hands on the metal table.

                “That’s for me to know and for you to find out, right? And obsession is a very strong word, but let's say her name is well known at the top of the hierarchical chain.”

                “What do the leaders want with (y/n)?”

                Yeosang just allowed the smirk to grow a little, the first bait for your team being thrown. Now they would know how strong your team's relationship was with you. The worry about the cut would be for later, for Yeosang's next date with you, which he couldn't deny that he was eagerly awaiting.

                “I hope she’s alone the next time I see her.”

                Before anything could be said, Chan and Yongbok exchanged glances before donning the role of the positions they held, Minho or Seungmin probably telling them that the superiors were returning.

                Yeosang returned with stoic features, the same position he was in when the superiors had left a few minutes ago, feeling the gaze of the two from your team on him. If everything went well, he would have the moment alone with you soon, being able to finally get to know who you were, away from the photos and videos that Strickland made available, the photos and videos that the Mirrors shared.

                You were nothing like the material that had been given to them.

                You were the puzzle that Yeosang and the others imagined you to be.

                Maybe you really were worth it.

                There were several areas on Guardian’s Island.

                This was something you knew from a very young age.

                Many of them were blocked for children and, even as an adult, it seemed wrong to venture through them, especially Angel's room was protected from everyone.

                You had spent the last three days in bed, one of them in the island hospital, Chan and Jeongin dividing themselves between you, maintaining order and watching over Angel. In the last two days, Minho joined the other two, being your main companion, installing in your computer the system he had made to continue monitoring what was happening on Guardian's Island even if the cameras didn't capture it, everything was saved, every frame from each camera.

                The only downside was the fact that there was no audio for any of them, but that didn't stop you from looking considerably more at the camera that watched Angel trapped inside the prism, alone in a room surrounded by forbidden artifacts. Your team being the only ones he paid a modicum of attention to, but never long enough, never many words exchanged.

                You can see the surprise in Angel's eyes when he saw you arriving with his lunch for the day, how quickly he got up from the floor, his eyes traveling all over your body, focusing on your side where the scar was still healing.

                "How are you?"

                The low, delicate tone of his voice when he spoke to you sent an electric shock running through your body. For a moment, questioning if you should do what you were thinking.

                “Well,” you said quickly, placing the tray of food next to you, making his eyes look confused, making you hold back a laugh, he might not be Logan, but he was just as cute, “what do you think about eating outside of this prism today?"

                “Will you join me for lunch?” Your eyes focused on the special lock for opening the prism, ignoring Angel's question completely, especially the smirk that formed on his lips. “Are you just trying to soften me up for an interrogation?”

                "How did you find out?" Your voice was serious, but the smile that struggled to appear on your lips was enough confirmation for Angel to leave the prism, but not moving a single step until you authorized it, making you roll your eyes. “I heard that you were giving my team a hard time and I need to move anyway, so I decided to be your babysitter from now on.”

                “Well, I’m not going to refuse this situation,” the mocking tone was clear in his words, you fought back a smile, allowing yourself the luxury of just rolling your eyes, ignoring the shy smile Angel gave. You couldn’t fall into the same situation as before, Angel was your goal, your path to reach others, “what happened?”

                His voice was closer than you expected it to be, his breathing in your ear, but you pretended indifference, after all, two could play this game and in this game, you were the teacher.

                “You know what happened, you were there,” you turned in your own center finding Angel's eyes already on you, noticing a slight raise of his eyebrows noting that he didn't expect that reaction from you, eliciting a smirk from you as he handed you one of the glasses you brought him, he looked at it with his eyebrows raised. “If I wanted to kill you there are better ways than that, in fact, I could have told Chan to pull the trigger on you three days ago.”

                “I'm sure he, Changbin and Hyunjin would be more than happy with that,” his fingers touched yours before holding the glass, bringing it yours to your mouth as you walked away towards the food, his eyes always on you. “Shall we share the plate?”

                “I already ate, but thanks to your paranoia, I'm going to eat some,” your hand deftly taking a little of each thing with one of the extra spoons you had grabbed before bringing it to your mouth, noticing Angel's eyes not letting go of you at any given time. “Enjoy it before it gets cold.”

                Angel exchanged glances with you before focusing on the space around him, knowing it must be the first time he walked freely through the space, your eyes taking in every detail of him, how careful he was to keep the birthmark hidden, watching that much of the makeup had already come off while he was eating, seeming indifferent to your looks, but you could see the smile present on his lips when he caught you watching.

                The truth is that the differences existed, but they were subtle enough that it took you a while to notice them. Your hand quickly went to one of the inner pockets of your uniform, subtly handing over a foundation that you had already used on Logan other times, knowing that it would match Angel's skin tone that he pretended not to notice, continuing to eat, but you felt his fingers wrap around yours briefly to hold the bottle.

                Time passed in silence, you analyzing Angel, him pretending not to notice, which almost convinced you, if it weren't for the red tips of his ears at times and the ever-present smirks. As soon as he finished eating, you got up, taking the tray and placing it closer to the door, Angel's eyes didn't go unnoticed by you, especially when he noticed that no one was on the other side of the door, or at least, that's what he thought they wanted him to think.

                "What happened?" His fingers were delicate on your pulse, but you could feel one of his fingers right at the point where he could feel the pulse of the blood and you wished he didn't notice how your heart was racing by that simple, small act. When you remained silent, he tugged your hand lightly, seeking your attention, which he got not long after, but there was no smile of victory. "Who?"

                You sighed, pulling your hand lightly, but Angel's hand wrapped around your wrist. He wouldn't let you leave until you responded. You could already hear the annoyed grunts of your team at your comm point. Their complaints when you said you would meet Angel alone came back to you, knowing that at any moment one of them could open the door.

                “Your followers,” the only sign of understanding of your words was the slight arching of eyebrows before Angel released his wrist, but never looking away from yours, doing nothing to help you remain calm. He was the best you could get at making others pay for what they did. “They mobbed me and my team last week, they knew the terrain, the hiding places, we didn't,” you sighed, returning to your chair, “I ended up being cornered and they attacked me, they had a fucking sharp machete that managed to cut it off seven centimeters on my left side, deep enough to cause problems, but it didn’t reach any organs.”

                There was something different as you told Angel about what had happened, the way his eyes changed, you could see the knuckles on his hand turning white, the clenching of his jaw. So, they didn't know what had happened.

                “But that still doesn’t answer my question.”

                “You asked what happened and who it was.”

                “You were here four days ago,” the firm yet careful voice made you almost hang your head low in shame, you barely knew Angel, he wasn’t Logan, but he seemed to have the same effects on you, “when you left after our first meeting, you were fine, nervous, but fine.”

                The memory of what Yang had done no longer had the same effect. If he really wanted something bad to happen to you, he would have acted differently, he didn't know about your injury, no one other than your team and Eden knew.

                “Why do you care?”

                “Can’t I try to create a conversation?”

                Your eyes analyzed Angel's features, momentarily getting lost in some points, especially in the damn smile that continued to be present regardless of what happened, what was said. With a simple sigh, you adjusted yourself in your chair, your hands intertwined. Not even your team knew what had happened, you had yet to tell any of them and Yang was cunning enough to know exactly how to bypass some things that would cause him to be detected as guilty without you needing to point him out. But what could Angel do? Your team would destroy Yang even if he was Jeongin's brother, but Angel... He couldn't do anything.

                “Yang.”

                The only sign you noticed was the clenching of Angel's jaw.

                “Jeongin’s brother?” Your mouth remained closed, but a murmur of agreement came from your throat. “There is nothing to justify it, but... Did he give any justification?”

                “You,” you said, laughing weakly, eyes meeting Angel’s angry ones, ignoring how your stomach dropped at seeing him affected by what had happened to you. “You were the reason, because my team is looking out for you, because as soon as you arrived, you were immediately separated from his team and they couldn't have access to you, even though he boasted that he was the one who caught the leader of the Black Pirates.”

                “I’m not the leader.”

                “I know,” your voice was weak, it was as if you were talking to Logan, but always with some memories of the difference between them, even if your mind refused to process those details entirely, “despite having the same face, you are not Logan.”

                “So, you know them.” It wasn't a question, so it didn't need an answer. Angel's smile widened a little, allowing you to see his teeth, one of your favorite smiles was his, even if it wasn't Logan in front of you. “What is your relationship with them?”

                You allowed yourself a slight reaction, which didn't go unnoticed by Angel who was waiting for an answer.

                “Of course they would do that,” you let out a cynical laugh, your back meeting the back of the chair, “they give off all my information, but they don't have the ability to talk about everything. Unbelievable."

                “Then why don’t you tell me?”

                “Then it would be very easy, wouldn’t it?”

                “And you don’t like anything easy, do you, princess?” Although the nickname had always irritated you, the tone Angel used had the opposite effect on you. Ignoring the party going on in your stomach, you just held his gaze on you, his smile growing slightly after that comment. “I believe I can call you that, right?”

                “You know my name, you don’t need a nickname.”

                “But what’s the point, princess?” Angel's knee touched yours under the chair, but you didn't move a muscle to get him away from you, ignoring when his hand went under the table, feeling his light fingers on your knee, almost like a caress. “We need a name to call you, don’t you think?”

                Quickly your mind started working again, Angel noticed in the same second, but he didn't move a muscle, his fingers moving lazily on your knee.

                "Who are they?"

                "I do not know what you're talking about."

                “They've done a lot of stupid things in this life, but they wouldn't risk so much to bring just you, to allow you to be captured the way you were, not if you were the only one,” your eyes roamed all over Angel's face, which barely seemed to change, as if it didn’t matter, the smile present, the eyes curious and slightly proud, the fingers stopped on your knee, pressing the sides lightly, “they brought you all, didn’t they?”

                “I see you found your diary,” your eyes widened slightly, the blood momentarily draining from your face. “Yes, they told us about that too, about your personal diary, about how you came up with the idea for everything to happen.”

                You didn't understand what game Angel was trying to play by giving all that information to you. Ignoring the pressure and movement of his fingers on your knee as much as you could, you waited. He knew a lot of things, things you never expected him to know, except about your brother.

                “When did they bring you?”

                Angel analyzed your face, he knew that he had managed to achieve the goal they needed, to instill in you the fact that both groups knew you better than it seemed, that you, perhaps, would be the ultimate goal of all this, even if you couldn’t understand the reason yet.

                “Was your old base in the desert always like that?” His fingers left your leg, his head falling to the side, making you process the information. “We haven't stayed at many of your facilities since we arrived, but that one was considerably the best of the three we stayed at.”

                They had visited three bases.

                They had been at Strickland for over a year, if not two.

                Angel could see the smoke coming out of your ears, and he couldn't help but find it cute the way your expression changed with each piece of information connected.

                "Why you?"

                “That’s something only they can answer.”

                That meant it wasn't temporary.

                They had brought Angel and the others to stay.

                If you found out why they brought Angel and the others to this reality, you would be closer to understanding everything, closer to catching them.

                “Why do you hide your mark? Were they the ones who asked?”

                “Logan doesn’t hide his, if that’s your question,” the fact that you continued to stare at him, waiting for him to continue and answer your question, made him sigh imitating your position, your knees still touching under the table, a silent offering of trust, perhaps? “I always hid the mark, ever since school, mainly high school.”

                You knew that was the most you could get out of Angel. Logan never needed to hide the mark, you were the first to consider it as something that marked him in a good way, that made him different. That caught his attention at first, making him love the mark more, while Angel seemed embarrassed by it, making you hold yourself back from running your fingers over the pink mark, like you always used to do with Logan.

                “Would you be able to tell the difference between us if we were in the same space?”

                Yes, you wanted to say, but the truth is, you didn't know.

                Maybe Angel and Logan, yes, but the others, you wouldn't know until you were with them.

                As your mouth opened to respond, the sound of the door became present, Ryujin quickly entering the space, eyes focused on you.

                “We need you in the Homeland Security Room.”

                It was the only thing Minho said at your point of communication before you got up from the chair, Angel's eyes never leaving you, not even when Ryujin opened the door, or when the click of the closing didn't happen. His eyes were almost hungry for the answer to the question, you could feel it, but you also couldn't give him that answer, not now, especially not with Ryujin in the shared space.

                You were already standing, your knee cold from the lack of contact with Angel's under the table, but he brought the heat back to your body when his hand found your leg. Ryujin couldn't see the way Angel's hand wrapped around the inside of your thigh, just above the knee, no one could see how much that small movement had made your entire body light up.

                Your eyes met Angel's again, who was anxiously waiting for some kind of answer, even if it was masked.

                “Don’t wait for me for your dinner.”

                The smirk quickly appeared, and you felt his fingers pressing your thigh through your clothes, but you tried your best not to make any movement or expression.

                “As long as you come tomorrow, I can spend the rest of the day without seeing you.”

                One last squeeze on your thigh and his fingers eased the pressure, but never leaving your leg. He wanted you to move away. The power play that started four days ago returned with full force. The realization of the fact quickly takes place in your mind.

                Whenever you weren't alone, that would happen.

                That was a bait to get you closer to him, a bait that you would happily take and use to your advantage.

                Angel didn't know you.

                You didn't know him.

                That was an offering.

                An offering that was a double-edged sword.

                Both knew you would get hurt from this, but neither seemed to care.

                That should be the first sign.

                Ryujin and Chan accompany you to your house, or as you always liked to remember it, your brother's apartment. One of the few spaces that still had some memory of him as he was, not as one of Strickland's prodigies.

                “You shouldn't have stayed with him every day,” Chan's voice was worried, you knew, everyone on your team still believed that what had happened was Angel's fault, Yang not going near you nor your team in the last two weeks that you were responsible for supervising Guardian Island. "He did -"

                “It wasn't him Chan,” your voice was hard, you were already tired of that conversation. Ryujin was still in the apartment checking if it was safe for you to enter. Ever since Angel was captured, silence had enveloped everything involving the Black Pirates, which didn't calm anyone on your team, especially considering the importance you had gained with Angel. “I hurt myself on the stairs after I left the room, after my mother and the others entered.”

                “You want me to believe that was from a fall down the stairs? That you fell down the stairs?”

                “No,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than for the subject to go away, “I didn’t fall down the stairs, he surprised me on the stairs -”

                "Who?" Not only the voice, but Chan's posture had changed, and you sighed, shaking your head. It didn't matter that you were their leader, or that they were your friends, you knew how to defend yourself, but you knew that when something happened to you, all eleven took it as a personal attack, more than anyone else. “(Y/n), who surprised you on the stairs?”

                “The matter has already been closed, Chan,” your voice was hard, just like your eyes that held Chan's. You knew he always demanded more than others, not just him, but Moonbin, Mingyu and Jungkook too. Moonbin for participating in your brother's team, the others for training with your brother just like you trained with Jeongin, Ryujin and Chaeryeong. “He and I can resolve it without involving you.”

                "I know but -"

                “Clear,” Ryujin noticed that he had interrupted a conversation between you and Chan, lowering her head as if apologizing, but you just sighed heading towards the apartment door. “One of us will stay with you -”

                “Absolutely not,” your arms quickly rested on the doorframes of the apartment, not wanting either of them to enter. It wasn't uncommon for you to have people watching your apartment, especially at times when the Black Pirates were occasionally on the streets, but that night you wanted to be alone, mostly alone. “I know you’re worried, so you can check the camera, keep watch outside, I couldn’t care less, but I need to be alone today, at least today, okay?”

                Even though it was a question, even though you wanted them to understand because they were your friends, there was a tone of authority and irritability in your speech. Many things happened, many meetings with superiors, many meetings with Angel, a lot of information made available by Angel, information that you needed some time to digest, that you couldn’t share with anyone.

                Chan nodded and placed a simple kiss on the top of your head, Ryujin did the same, placing one on your cheek before the two turned their backs until your door was closed and locked. You understand their position. Angel was arrested, the entire nation knew that a person of interest was being interrogated, that someone high up in the Black Pirates had been captured. Everyone expected some kind of retaliation, but it didn't happen, not in the two weeks that followed.

                Your forehead quickly met the cold wood of the apartment.

                That was one of your main refuges.

                Your feet quickly guiding you to your brother's room. The lock on the door being quickly turned and his scent invading your nostrils bringing burning sensations to your eyes that you quickly disregarded as you entered and closed the door behind you, wanting to keep what was left of his scent in that space. Quick fingers searching through the boxes that you had separated that belonged to the two of you in a corner of the room.

                Your diary was quickly found among many. It was white, but full of drawings and writing in black, the personalized notebook had been a gift from Lucky. Your fingers gently running between the edges, the familiar but outlandish pages passing through your fingers, until a specific sequence of pages were identified, and you sighed closing the notebook.

                Quick feet to leave the room. Never spending more than a few minutes on it when necessary. That was still his space. It would always be his space. Your breath came out completely, almost in relief when the bedroom door closed behind you, the lock being quickly passed again. You needed to calm down to focus on what the diary said. How your idea could be used by them. The reason they caught Angel and the others bringing them into this reality.

                You quickly grab some things from the office, taking everything to the living room, placing it on the coffee table, quick hands running through your hair. You needed to calm down to think clearly. Closing the living room curtains, you headed to your bedroom, the shower quickly turning on, cold water against your body, contracting your muscles, waking up your senses.

                Your mind went back to your brother. To them. To how right the ten of you felt together.

                Ignoring the weight on your chest, you closed the valve, wrapping the towel around your body. The strangest thing was how excited you were to meet Angel the next day. The power games that you had created in the last few days had been minimally interesting and entertaining, a change of scenery if you want to call it that way. Despite everything, you knew you would have to wait for a decision from your superiors. Rumors of retaliation grew every day that Angel was locked on the island, leaving your superiors angry and alert. Angel's lack of cooperation only making this issue worse.

                The memory of the conversation from that last day supervising the island coming back to you with full power. You had received clearance for physical training, suggestions for you to train with Angel to assess his physical ability was indicated, but you knew he was capable of holding you back and blocking your attacks, especially from the little hints he had given about how Logan and his group made Angel and the others train every day since they arrived.

                Your surprise was when he barely touched you, just dodging or blocking your attacks. You knew that the presence of your team and Eden was the reason for that. Angel could be a lot of things, but the main thing was cautious. He knew when and how to act both towards you alone and when others were present. He could be his usual stoic self when you weren't alone, especially when he wasn't someone on your team, as he could also be one of the most intriguing beings you'd ever met when you were alone.

                The more time you spent with him, the more it became clear how different he and Logan were and you beat yourself up for not seeing it sooner. Angel was intriguing in an addictive way; Logan was intriguing in a calm and serene way. Angel wasn't afraid to say or do things to you, while Logan always seemed to keep his distance so you wouldn't feel disrespected. Logan was your past, the reminder of who you were all those years ago. Angel was your present, who you were now, who you needed to be to survive. Logan was flowing, calm water. Angel was deep waters, torrential sea.

                What they had that of physical similarities, they had of different in personality, and that made you addicted, the desire to understand it all taking over you every second you thought about it. You sighed realizing that you were once again allowing your emotions to guide your actions. You sighed, running your hands covered by your long-sleeved shirt over your face, your nails running along your scalp before resting on the back of your neck and you looked up at the ceiling of your room.

                “You can’t allow yourself to fall into that hole again.”

                The words left your mouth, but they never seemed to fully process, probably because you knew you were lying to yourself. You were already digging back the hole you had filled a few years before. Your stomach growled from the lack of food and you forced yourself to get out of bed, the sooner you could understand what the diary had regarding the plan, the sooner you could catch them.

                A wisp of wind met your bare feet as you left your room. Face turning towards the living room, the only place that could offer enough wind for it to reach the place you were. The glow of the moon reflecting the movement of the curtains on the kitchen wall. With calm and silent steps, you took the gun you hid under the mattress, a knife in the drawer in the nighstand next to the bed, hiding the knife inside your pants, doing the best you could to disguise its presence.

                Your finger on the trigger of the gun while your steps followed calmly towards the room. Due to the way the curtains moved, the living room windows were completely wide open, the cold air taking over the entire living room and kitchen space and you held back a curse. In small, quick movements, you were in the living room, gun pointing at the void that was there, your eyes confused for a moment before turning to the kitchen finding some utensils scattered on the counter.

                “Put the gun down, (y/n),” that voice. In a quick movement you turned back to the living room, finding him on the balcony of the apartment, a bowl with various cut fruits in his hand. “I’m not here to hurt you and I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

                The strawberry quickly went to his lips, your eyes following every movement before you could stop yourself, but at no point lowering the gun. If he was here, the others could be too. Your eyes quickly scanned the entire space before landing on your open journal, the page being exactly the one you had written your theory on all those years ago, when they were still your friends, when they hadn't yet mastered every second of thought.

                "Where are the others?"

                “It’s just me,” his steps were calm, restrained, but not because of the gun pointed at him, but because of the look you directed at him. “(y/n), please.”

                For a moment you consider the options, but also, this was the first time one of them had been in front of you in five years. Just a few steps away. His vision began to become blurred as your eyes burned, your body trembled, your legs failed. Mars had been faster, managing to catch you before your knee found the ground. His smell was the same. The way he touched you was the same. It didn't seem like it had been five years since he had set foot in that apartment, but there you were, hugging each other in the middle of the living room floor.

                "What are you doing here?"

                Your voice was weak, almost tearful, but you didn't want to cry, you didn't want to let him see you broken, you didn't want him to know the power he still had over you.

                “Visiting my girl, can’t I?”

                Despite the smile, that sentence made you see the reality of the situation. A movie of everything that happened played in front of your eyes, forcing Mars away, your back meeting the couch, as he just watched. His eyes confirmed the pain he felt, but also showed that he had already expected it.

                “I’m not your girl anymore, or any of yours since you abandoned me,” silence reigned and you finally noticed his clothes. The predominant black, but it wasn't the outfit you saw whenever they appeared in public, the fedora wasn't there, much less the mask or gloves. “Why are you here Mars? Why now?"

                “You got hurt,” the scoff that left your lips along with the eye roll only made Mars feel worse, but he wasn't fazed by your reactions, he expected them, especially considering the last two weeks of information you had raised. “I promise you that note wasn't meaningless,” your eyes raised to meet Mars's who was observing your reactions, waiting for an opening, even if minimal, to get closer to you, “I know that I and others cannot ask or deserve forgiveness for everything that has happened in the last few years, but we need you to know that we never completely abandoned you, but it was -”

                “Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” your red, watery eyes finally let two tears fall down your heated face. Mars nodded, closing his mouth but risking getting closer to you which you didn't seem averse, but he knew better than to risk too much. “You abandoned me Mars, after my birthday you simply disappeared, but until that point, it was ok, I could even say I understood it,” his eyes found the ground, his foot lightly touching yours that didn't move, eyes fixed on the man in front of him, “but you disappeared completely after what happened to him? After everything?"

                Tears that hadn't fallen for years began to cascade down and didn't seem to stop, your throat hurt, and you knew you were almost screaming, the lump in your throat and chest slowly lessening with the tears and screaming but getting considerably worse when you felt it. Mars' arms were wrapping around your warm, trembling body, pulling you into his lap, wanting to protect you from everything he couldn't in those last five years.

                It was too late, you both knew, but it still seemed to heal an open wound of years. Your body was heavy, fitted perfectly against Mars' body, as it had been so many years ago, as if this were where you belonged, but you knew it wasn't, this hadn't been where you belonged for a while.

                “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, (y/n), I’m sorry.”

                He kept repeating those words to you, knowing that from a moment ony, it was more for him and the others than for you.

                “I think my parents used the White Giants,” your voice was low, husky, fragile, causing Mars to stop completely, just the caress of his fingertips against your arm, but you knew he was listening, “I think they finally decided that was for the best.”

                “For the best?"

                “It’s better than feeling,” you could hear the moment his breath hitched. It wasn't the first time that conversation had happened between you and one of them, one of the first times you couldn't have been more than ten years old, which was when your brother took you to meet Mars and the others for the first time at their dimension. Maybe that was the moment your dam started to crack, “feeling is something so tragic, but so beautiful, I understand both sides a little, but recently I keep asking myself how worth it, it really is.”

                “(y/n)…”

                You lifted your head, briefly disentangling yourself from Mars' arms before wrapping your arms around his waist, still sitting between his crossed legs, your legs pointing towards the balcony, towards the peaceful night, so different from what was happening in that room, so different with what was happening inside you.

                Your arms wrapped around his waist, your head on his chest, his heartbeat was as unstable as yours and that brought a small smile and relief to you, even more so when you felt his arms wrapping around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. It was all too much, everything was too much. Your voice was a whisper, almost a cry for help.

               "It hurts Mars, it hurts so much!"

               "Have you considered -" he interrupted his train of thought, he knew you well enough to know that you had considered it, yet, here you were, waiting for him to finish his question, if he had the courage to do so and you had the courage to respond. "Have you ever thought about asking them to take the memories away?"

               "Would you like me to do that? Would either of you be happy with that?"

               “It would be simpler...”

                "It's true," you sigh, tightening the hug, feeling the tips of his thumb caress the back of your neck. "It would also take everyone away," you both stopped breathing for a moment until you lifted your head, your confused eyes looked at him while his showed nothing but care and concern, making your mind set that in stone in your brain, even if all you wanted was to keep thinking that they completely abandoned you, "it would take him away, it would also make obvious all the things he did, that we did..., but I wonder if it's worth it."

               "Since when do you ask that?"

               "Since you and the others caused his death."

                The way Mars' body stiffened made you finally have the courage to face him for real, your eyes hard as he had never seen before, because that was exactly what they had done two years ago.

                “(y/n) -”

                “The news of his death spread across the nation for days Mars, days and weeks seeing my brother's face on big screens across the nation and all I wanted was you and the others with me,” you were no longer crying, there were no more tears to fall. If you were the reason they stayed and were doing what they were doing, they were the reason you became the person you did, “so imagine my surprise when I found out how it all happened, how you were a part of it all.”

                Anyone who knew you would know that having you screaming was much better than the position you found yourself in now. The controlled voice, sharp enough to cut, cold and precise words.

                "You do not know what -"

                “Mars, there are documents and more documents about this,” you forced your body to stand up, the loss of his body heat causing a shock throughout your body that was ignored, “I followed every step of the process so that nothing was lost, to prove to myself that you hadn't killed him,” Mars' eyes were fixed on the place you were before, the tension in his shoulders was still present, the silence was still present, he would wait for you to finish what you had to say. “I thought maybe the results were wrong, that someone had tampered with something, I waited, in the fucking hope that you would show up for his funeral, that you would show up in this fucking apartment, proving to me that the results were wrong.”

                “You know well enough that evidences can be manipulated,” his eyes finally lifted to meet yours, they were sore, brittle under your accused ones, but again, not surprised, “you and him have always been and will always be important to us, no matter how much time passes or what happens,” despite the eyes being broken, pouring out feelings, the body was hard, determined. In just a few steps, Mars was just a few centimeters away from you, as you wanted him to be several times, when he still had your whole heart, sharing it with the other seven who completely fucked up your life. “I'm sorry I was part of the process that made you who you are today.”

                “Don't be sorry,” your voice was hard, “I don't regret for a minute who I am today,” truth spilled over your lips.

                It was true that this was not the path you would choose to walk, but you had been at peace with that for long enough. You were proud of everything you had achieved. You were proud of the reflection you saw in the mirror. That might not have been the path you and your brother wanted when you were younger, but you learned to embrace it, learned that something good could still come from that path, accepted that you would nor could ever leave.

                “You deserve more, you deserve something better, someone better.”

                With each word, Mars's voice dropped, the end almost inaudible to you, just a mumble that you preferred not to focus on too much. The older man risked approaching one last time, placing a lingering kiss on the top of your forehead and you held back the tears that risked falling in that simple act. His arms wrapped around you one last time, you allowed yourself to wrap around Mars' waist one last time, inhaling his scent, even though you knew you would quickly forget what it felt like.

                Your eyes closed trying to absorb that last moment, because despite the anger, Mars and the others helped you to be who you were today, even if the part they were responsible for was the most hated and most loved part of yourself. You saw in Mars' eyes the glimpse of ignorance, of disappointment, you knew that your brother would also look at you like that, but he would understand, but now, thanks to them, you wouldn't even have that. Whether they hated what they had helped create or not, you still didn't know, but from that moment on, you didn't care.

                The heat from Mars' body was the first thing that went away, then his presence, and lastly, the smell that surrounded his presence, even though you knew it would be marked throughout your apartment for the rest of the night. Your eyes opened noticing how empty the space seemed. Fighting the burning in your eyes, your steps were quick to open all the windows in the house, except the one in your brother's room. The idea of someone from your team entering the apartment the next day and noticing the smell of Mars throughout the house distressed you, as this would bring questions, surveillance, people searching your apartment – your brother's apartment – turning it upside down, looking for some sign of what had happened, of who was in the apartment.

                As soon as you sat on the sofa, the bowl of fruit that Mars had cut – long forgotten on the coffee table – reminded you that the discomfort in your stomach went beyond what had happened. Piece by piece, you picked up the fruit, your stomach quickly thanking you for the food. Your eyes then stopped on your diary. Mars' handwriting is quickly present along with some marks and writing, emphasizing some parts more than others.

                Some asterisks at specific points next to your writing, such as:

               * multiple dimensions, multiple realities.

                * can two identical people from different realities exist in a single one that is not theirs?

                Besides that, Mars handwriting shout out to you:

                Schrödinger's cat.

                Differences matter.

                Nothing really is what it seems until you really pay attention.

                Just because a dimension says A or Z doesn't mean A or Z shouldn't be questioned, there are other letters in between that are just as important, if not more so.

               Your hands went up to your face, eyes closing in a silent plea for that puzzle to finally make sense in your mind. Despite everything, the notes left by Mars confirmed part of your theory:

                01. Angel and the others are here to stay, but how they will be used is still unclear.

                02. Angel and the others had been chosen, probably because they fixed some flaw that might exist in Mars and the others' plan.

                03. There was something you weren't seeing, that they wanted you to see.

                04. That wouldn't be the last time you saw any of them.

                “Urgent Transmission, c’mon all of you!”

                Left Eye's voice was loud in the middle of the space everyone was in. Boxes and more boxes were scattered around, things thrown into separate corners, but everyone ran to where Left Eye was looking at the old television that he had gotten when Mars and the others reported what they would do to free Yeosang from Guardian's Island.

                The newspaper image was quickly replaced by the footage that Nightingale had carefully separated and sent to free channels and, as imagined, the repercussion forced the official channel to release the video and an official statement, bringing smiles to all the boys.

                Wooyoung quickly ruffled Yeosang's hair when his friend's image inside the prism appeared. The recording was careful not to show Yeosang's face, which was not interesting for either the Black Pirates or the government. The image was obviously cropped, not showing everything that was in the place where Yeosang stayed, but that wasn't the most important or exciting part, but rather the scene in which one of the leaders of the Black Pirates, who in this case was Mars – but who also I wouldn’t show my face –, would appear.

                Yeosang knew he would be rescued, but he didn't lie when his friends asked if he was already bored and begging to be rescued, as that was the last thing he was. The truth is that he expected your presence every day, asking and thanking you when you showed up more than once a day for three hours.

 Yeosang, like Hongjoong and Seonghwa, knew that you had captured the interest of all eight of them, but only Yeosang knew that this was just the beginning, only Yeosang knew how mesmerizing you were, only Yeosang could understand why you were important, because only he had spent time with you.

                The prism had been opened and Yeosang left his place of protection without much concern. Mars removed the Cromer from his coat, handing it to Yeosang to hold, before it spun around and the sand began to fall, opening the portal that would take them to the hiding place they were in at that moment.

                A few seconds after they both disappeared from the screen, several security guards were seen entering the place and looking for Yeosang without success, until the recording ended. That had happened three days after you and your team had been dismissed from the island's watch, three days after Mars had visited your apartment.

                Despite the general celebration of the victory of having demonstrated that to the entire nation, everyone remained silent when they found your face among those of the officers in the speech. That only indicated that perhaps the plan had worked out better than expected, Mars and Uno exchanging proud looks with Yeosang who couldn't contain the smile that danced on his lips, much less disregard how his heart seemed to jump when he saw your face in the television, considering that it had been four days since he had last seen you, exactly the day that footage had been taken.

                 Everyone held their breath as the speech began, Yeosang's friends observing his reaction, how their eyes seemed glued to the television, to your image specifically.

                “An open mouth attracts flies.”

                Wooyoung playfully pushes Yeosang's chin up which only pushes his friend's hand away.

                “We’ll see when you meet her,” Yeosang said without fear, already being able to imagine the reaction of his oldest friend in that circle. The amused and understanding eyes of the Mirrors fell on him, knowing that he finally understood a little of the reasons for everything, which went beyond overthrowing the Strickland government. “Do you think they put her as one of the people on the team?”

                “With that,” everyone stopped to observe when they noticed that one of the officers turned to you who met his gaze nodding and taking a step forward, Hyunjin could be seen behind you, “I would like to introduce the person who will be part of the Black Pirates, Search and Capture Team.”

                Everyone was silent, waiting to hear how exactly you would be part of the team.

                “Thank you Marshal, it is a great pleasure to be recognized and considered for this position despite my young age,” Yeosang could already read your features, he already knew when you were playing a role, when you said things just to please your superiors, of course not completely, but he had caught some of your tics, noticing how the 'young age' issue was of your own addition, a way of needling others, noticing the movement of your eyes towards someone in the audience, making Yeosang note to ask about who would be there later. “My team and I are more than happy to accept this job, we will strive to bring the members of the Black Pirate and their leaders to justice for the way they destroy our country, I hope to deserve the position I was offered, thank you all.”

                Again, your eyes shifted to a point in the audience, a movement that this time was also noticed by the others, seeing Mars exchange glances with Logan and Shinwoo who quickly moved away, a movement that was not ignored by the others in ATEEZ who quickly approached Yeosang expecting something to be said.

                “She looked at someone in the audience more than once,” before any of his friends could say anything, Yeosang shook his head with an amused smile, “she wouldn't risk doing something like that, almost inconsequential, without a reason.”

                “We have vision,” the image wasn’t the best, but everyone could see the entire first five rows, “which direction did she look?”

                Shinwoo asked, already messing with the image, trying to improve the quality.

                “Her left, our right.”

                “Probably third row closest to center.”

                Uno and Howl responded quickly while Iyaah went back to the image to confirm, but Shinwoo already works on the image, but it didn't take much for Yeosang to know who it was. Recognizing his face anywhere.

                “Yang,” everyone stopped to watch Yeosang who stared at the image with burning eyes, memory of what he had done to you returning to him, “she was looking at him.”

                Mars waited for the confirmation that came after Iyaah got the image, Lucky and Wooyeon taking care of the structure, guiding which possible chairs would be, until one of the three chairs belonged to Yang, Jeongin's older brother. Yeosang ignored the curious looks of his friends, focusing on the curious ones of the Mirrors.

                “You already know she was hurt, right?”

                “In one of the movements we created before you were ‘captured’, yes.”

                Iyaah responded with a curious look, imitated by the others, except for Mars who continued to stare at you through the image on the television.

                “The day I was captured, it was Yang and his team who made the arrest,” Yeosang began, the memory of the day coming back with full force. He already didn't have good feelings for the officer since the video in which you killed one of the Black Pirates members, but the feelings got worse that day. “(y/n) and her team were scheduled to take care of the island -”

                “Exactly why we did all that when we did,” Lucky said, still trying to follow Yeosang's reasoning who nodded with a slight smile, “did he do something to you?”

                “Nothing more than expected,” everyone knew what that meant, but they would ignore it until they knew what information Yeosang had about your relationship with Yang and your injury. “The problem is that her team was responsible for me the moment I entered the island complex, and he didn’t like it, so he decided to have it out with her.”

                "Mother fucker..."

                All the Mirrors murmured irritably, the friends and Yeosang noticing how everyone's hands clenched into fists, quickly noticing the tension that remained in the air.

                “He went to talk to her about the situation and punched her in the side that opened her stitches,” Yeosang now heard his own friends murmuring their disgust towards Yang, “she had to spend three days of complete rest, there was a lot of internal bleeding...”

                Yeosang's voice trailed off as he noticed the suggestive looks the Mirrors exchanged, knowing what they were thinking and supporting considerably, having thought of some ways to make Yang pay for the two weeks he spent on the island under your care.

                “Do any of you want to meet her?”

                Mars' question hung in the air, his eyes not meeting any of the ATEEZ boys, but noticing the exchange of looks between them.

                “Seonghwa should be next,” all eyes fell on Yeosang who didn’t seem to be affected, “she knows you all well enough to know that you’re the one on the recording,” nodding at Mars who once again looked down before looking up, finding your image on the stage, “I think that, out of all of us, Seonghwa will be one of the most capable of achieving the objective of this phase of the plan.”

                “Both Yunho and Jongho would also be good for the next stage, but I agree,” Lucky exchanged glances with Mars who sighed, seeming to ponder more than the others about using Seonghwa for the next stage, “unless there is a reason why he shouldn’t be next.”

                Mars seemed to think for a moment, pondering the presence of each as the main one in the second part of the plan. His eyes resting one last time on the image of you on the television.

                “Do you want to be next?” Seonghwa nodded, Mars let out a regretful sigh before nodding. “You have two weeks, tomorrow you and I sit down to align some things.”

                Seonghwa adjusted his posture, nodding, Yeosang's smile did not go unnoticed by the Mirrors, some even smiling equally excited, except Mars who seemed considerably worried about the decision, but followed through with it regardless.

                “Yeosang,” all eyes fell on Wooyeon who was smiling amusedly, “it would be good for you to tell Seonghwa about what she’s like, this second introduction won’t be as easy as yours was.”

01: angel.

heart string of gold || OT8! ateez || lore au

They had abandoned you, all nine people you cared about most had completely abandoned you. In the end, you were just like your parents and superiors said you would be if you continued to allow feelings to be felt. You then became Strickland's weapon and the Black Pirates, like their leaders, were your ultimate target.

⇦ || hsog || masterlist || ⇨

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#cromernet #pirateeznet #hsog.fic #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #atiny #ateez #ateez angst #ateez hongjoong #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez mingi #ateez yunho #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #ateez jongho #non idol au #hongjoong #yeosang #yunho #jongho #san #mingi #seonghwa #wooyoung #kpop fan fiction #heart string of gold fic #ateez x reader #kpop #ateez ot8

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Heyy Idk if you have done this yet but currently its my birthday so I was just wondering if you could do the jjk men on your birthday :3

Oh, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR READER!!! Congratulations on leveling up!! Of course we have to celebrate with some birthday headcanons!

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna.

Satoru Gojo

The Excited!

Gojo is more excited than you are my guy.

He’s planning a surprise party, meticulously picking out party decor, planning out the menu, bestie he’s going ALL OUT.

He didn’t have very many happy birthdays when he was younger, so when he grew up he decided no one he loved was going to have an unhappy birthday ever again (as long as he could help it.)

And he REALLY loves you so he’s going hard. The kicker is though, that you have no idea.

He’s extremely good at keeping it to himself. He’s subtle about asking you what you want, and any packages he needs to order he sends to Nanami's house. He wants to genuinely surprise you.

You think that for your birthday, all that's going to happen is Gojo is going to take you to dinner. That's why he’s buying you a new dress, got your nails done, all of that. It's simply so you feel pretty on your birthday date

So, when you get home, turn on the lights and everyone jumped out and yelled “SURPRISE!”

You accidentally punched Shoko in the nose.

IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT, I STAND BY THAT! They spooked you! What did they expect after you had just been kidnapped!? (See: jjk men headcanons: Kidnapped edition)

Other than that though,   the party goes off without a hitch! Just like Gojo planned!

He didn’t risk trying to bake a cake himself, he had Nanami do that shit. Still, it manages to be one of the better cakes you’ve ever had

Everything is about you. Your favorite movie is playing in the background while you play your favorite board games, your favorite foods are being served, your favorite alcohol is very well stocked, it’s all about you today baby

He for sure gets you a sash that says “Birthday Bitch” On it, tell me I’m wrong. 

Once the party has died and everyone left, he would sit on the couch cuddling you, watching whatever movie you picked out on hulu. 

You have long since passed out in his arms, but him? He’s already planning for next year

Suguru Geto

the planner

He takes you out on the town for your birthday! Geto loves to show you off and he’s taking the opportunity to do so now!

He takes weeks to plan it. All the stops you guys are going to take, the most efficient map, how much he at least plans to drink at each place.

And you’re heavily involved in the process!

It’s your birthday, a day that's supposed to be all about you. You should be able to decide where you guys go!

While Geto knew you better than anyone, he wasn’t narcissistic enough to think he knows you better than you know you

And having you involved in the planning process ensures you have the best day possible where you get to do everything you want to do.

Above all else, he's excited to show you off with a fun night on the town.

Wherever you wanna go, you're there. Your favorite restaurant, the club, a different club, wherever 

He’d probably set up a litter entourage for your bar hopping. A few of your (Easily transportable) friends

You all meet up at your house before heading out for gifts and pregaming

He probably pregammed a little too hard, but it’s fine. One of your friends is DD

He probably starts a fight at one of the bars because someone was hitting on you. It’s not a huge fight, so you mostly just find it funny

He for sure got you some pretty jewelry to go with your dress. 

I was talking with my friends and we all agreed he would pay for you to get a surprise tattoo for your birthday. 

He gets to pick it out

And he chooses a tramp stamp.

Of his name.

Kento Nanami

the homebody

Nanami honestly doesn’t have a lot of energy thanks to work. But he does still manage to pull together a nice birthday celebration with you.

It’s more quiet than the rest, just the two of you. 

Because of this it honestly doesn’t take a lot of planning which works for him.

He wakes you up with breakfast in bed, promising to make today all about you

He even took the day off work for you!

You walk into the dining room and a banquet of your favorite flowers are waiting for you on the table. 

He has your favorite coffee made and ready to go, but, honestly that's nothing new. That's one of the little things he does for you every morning. 

He takes you out to your favorite restaurant, and you guys do cake at and gifts home.  

He got you something you really really wanted for your birthday. Something you always talked about but could never buy for yourself. 

I imagine after the wine starts flowing you guys have a mini dance party in your living room, giggling and moving together like two idiots

At some point the dance party becomes karaoke  

He’s not a very good singer, but as far as he’s concerned you're the best. Even if you're the worst, fuck you, you're the best now.

He busts out his lighter when you start a ballad, waving it in the air for you, prove me wrong

You both passed out on your couch

It wasn’t the best idea, you’re both a little too old for all of that now. But, you still wake up feeling happy and loved.

And also hungover, but, ya know

Ryomen Sukuna

birthday?

You had a birthday? Okay.

He completely forgot and honestly he does not care he forgot. 

Curses don't really do birthdays and they definitely don't give a fuck about human celebration rituals. 

He’d laugh in your face if you confront him about forgetting too. He’d ask you what the fuck did you expect from him? He never claimed to be a loverboy, you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be with him.

Now, all of that being said: you do notice him being uncharacteristically gentle with you that day.

Let’s ignore the fact that you didn’t necessarily agree to be with him, he made that decision for you.

He’s bringing you water and food without you even asking, a blanket when you start to get cold, ect ect. 

Not necessarily a birthday headcanon, but I really do believe that Sukuna is deeply attuned with his partner's needs, to the point that he knows what they need before they do most of the time. He just doesn’t fill those needs for them cause what does he fuckin look like to you? He’s not your fuckin mom

When he grabs you his claws are much less involved, and there's noticeably less force. 

He’s actually being attentive and dare I say…caring?

Voice none of these observations if you value your life dear reader, I can not stress this enough!!!

Sukuna reacts violently to being called out on being vulnerable or gentle so you kinda spend the day walking on eggshells, hoping he doesn’t notice that you noticed he was being soft

But, other than that, it’s actually a good day with him!

You even got him to sit down and watch a movie with you! And absolute win I’d say!

And that night, when you’re asleep in his bed, He’d pull you into his arms and gently kiss your temple. 

Softly whispering “Happy Birthday Y/n”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo headcanons #gojo fluff #suguru geto #suguru x reader #suguru x reader fluff #geto fluff #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x reader fluff #nanami headcanons #ryomen sukuna #sukuna headcanons #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna fluff

[cookinguptales]

So my dad and I went on a road trip a few years ago. We hit a lot of national parks, ghost towns, bizarre little tourist traps, the weirdest things we could find in Vegas, etc.

(Also, we accidentally went to an alien-themed brothel but I guess that's another story.)

We did... go to Death Valley... but it was not a great experience. lmao

To preface, it had been windy for a lot of our trip, which affected our stops to varying degrees. By far the two worst situations were in Petrified Forest and Death Valley. We still sort of enjoyed Petrified Forest, even though I literally got blown over a few times and the pictures weren't great. We actually talk about going back there some time to see it better because I do love fossils.

Death Valley tho...

I do like deserts, to be clear. I think deserts can be really, really beautiful. And I think maybe in much, much better circumstances, Death Valley might be beautiful. But it was not beautiful that day, and we are not making plans to go back.

We'd actually planned to stay there a couple nights, but the wind had basically kicked up a dust storm that was so bad that it cut power to the entire park. This is very dangerous in a place like Death Valley, where you can literally die if you get stranded. Like... they call it that for a reason. It was April, so less hot than it would be later, but it's still a desert in the middle of freaking nowhere.

When we finally got to our hotel, we found that it had lost power and probably wouldn't be getting it back for a day or two. That meant very little by way of food options, absolutely no internet, and, probably more importantly, it meant we wouldn't be able to charge our cell phones. The gas station also was not working.

So even though we had quite a bit of gas in the tank, the prospect of potentially running out of gas with no cell service or internet in a place called Death Valley was enough to run us out of town. We saw a little bit of the place before we left, but visibility was so poor that it was difficult to see much.

(And... I have to be honest with you, it was not the most visually interesting desert I've ever seen.)

In the end, we ended up just canceling our hotel stay (they couldn't check us in anyway) and driving to Lone Pine. Which was beautiful.

So uhhhh here are some scenes from Death Valley. Mostly, after a certain point, taken from inside a car. Because we were in a fucking dust storm.

To know just how bad the wind was, here's a video from when we stopped at the hotel/fuel center. Please keep in mind, if you turn the audio on, that I was in a truck.

For this next section, the gas station we stopped at just outside of the park, please just know that I double-checked the time stamps and this was early evening but it was not dark yet. You can kind of see how the sky was blue from some angles, but the sun was still being blotted out by the storm. The closest I've experienced to that otherwise is the odd sort of half-light you experience during an eclipse.

And then we got to Lone Pine and it looked like fucking this when we woke up. lmao. One of the most beautiful places I've ever been. What the fuck.

#I can post photos from lone pine if anyone wants to see them but uh #death valley was a Whole Thing #and they told us that storms like that weren't too unusual #that said it was going to be one of the most expensive hotels for the entire trip despite not being that nice #(you don't have a ton of options out there) #so we did save some money #the travel bug #death valley

[incorrecttowerofgodquotes]

Gundam: The Witch From Mercury Season 2 Episode 8

- Secelia really just shows up everywhere, huh? She’s continuing her objective of snooping on everyone by questioning Suletta.

- Petra lives! Hallelujah! She fought off her death flags and even managed to save the girl she was carrying. Too op for this universe. Though sadly her body is pretty fucked yo. The crushed legs, the missing eye, and brain damage will definitely affect her for the rest of her life. Hopefully GUND-Arm will be able to help her a little.

- Fucking lol at Kenanji saying he couldn’t identify the pilot. Like no shit, you vaporized her

- The talk between Shaddiq and Miorine was probably the first time the two talked without any pretenses. The two both have big dreams but ultimately they took the wrong actions because of adult manipulations. Though I did find his line of “If got with you I wouldn’t have had to commit these terrorist acts” was pretty weird. Like bro, please bond with someone else on equal terms cause right now you’re just being a dick.

- Suletta handing out the tomatoes, a symbol of love, to everyone after she saved some to prevent them from rotting is peak symbolism. Especially since they’re given to the people who bullied them like the girls from Ep 4.

- Poor Nika once again. She didn’t really do anything wrong, but I can understand her feelings. I hope she continues her schooling and becomes a great mechanic. Her talent is needed to help Earthians and Spacians alike. Also her calling out Belmeria was very satisfying. The two had been set up as narrative foils in the series and here we see the difference between them. Nik won’t wallow in self pity and she’ll call out injustice when she sees it compared to Belmeria.

- God I hate Peil, those slimy little turncoats. Their PeilGPT told them to jump ship and they did. Just like how Cathedra intervened with Ochs Earth in the prologue, this the time the Space Assembly will take control of the Benerit group. I think the real Elan might take center stage and take control of the Space Assembly (right before he gets a bullet out between his eyes hehe)

- Sarius once again proving he’s the best space adult by looking to regulate the damages, but Miorine won’t take it. She doesn’t want to sacrifice anyone, even Shaddiq. Though she does have to take action, preferably after she’s talked to a large variety of people and arrive at the right answer

- Suletta coming out and telling everyone everything, no longer scared of her past or their rejection. She’s grown so much from the scared little girl she was when she arrived. She’s looking to help others and can recognize when her mother is doing wrong.

- The Space Oomfie just killed hundred of people, somebody stop her. The mass murder was extremely terrifying and becomes even more so when you realize Prospera seeks to spread this influence across all of space. She’s very much like Delling, wanting everything under her control and stamping out any naysayers. Eri is the only thing that matters to her now so even if it requires a large amount of lives, she’ll still act

- Calibarn really came out of nowhere and socked me in the gut. They were distracting us with the Schwarzette so they could drop this absolute bomb. All I can hope is that Suletta’s brain doesn’t crap out in the suit considering it has no resistance.

- El5n once again claiming his best boy spot by just chilling by some cows, eating space food, and listening in on the gossip. But what I find interesting is that he actually loves to act with Earth House, even if it’s just to get where he wants to. It was probably a mix of Nika standing up for him and Suletta recounting her backstory as a throwaway doll that got him to sympathize. Personally, I’m wondering where he wants to go. Either it’s to go murder the Peil guys (which is a win) or to travel to the images in Norea’s sketchbook (which is an even bigger win.) Aliyah makes note that his personality changed, but really, I think the somber but somewhat active El5n is his true self. He isn’t hiding his feeling with a mask, he’s being upfront with his emotions. Though it’s a bit sad that Suletta is still focused on El4n, but I hope next episode will get us both of their backstories. Also please don’t stick him in a Gundam again. I want my son to live.

- Lauda, my baby, I knew this would happen. I’ve been calling it since Ep 7 I believe, but god damn it don’t hurt me like this. Petra is still alive, you need to take her on a date! And please just talk to your brother! He loves you! Don’t die in that Schwarzette or make him kill you!

- But once again, people don’t seem to understand Lauda, similarly to the El5n slander, so let me break down his character. Lauda has spent his entire life being second string to Guel. He’s a child of a mistress and doesn’t even get the Jeturk surname despite being under his father’s custody. Apparently his first line to Guel when the two met was how he would support him. The poor kid has probably only thought of himself as an accessory to Guel, the perfect and strong big brother, so when that all changed it hurts him. If he can’t be by Guel’s side, if his big brother changes, then he gets thrown off balance. He needs someone to blame. First, it was Suletta, but now that Miorine is his fiancée, she’s his target now. In a way, he’s much like Shaddiq. Their idolized version of their loved ones come into conflict with their true selves and so they blame someone else. Now that Petra, the one person who probably saw Lauda as himself, is in a coma, no one can stop him.

Suletta’s arc continues to brighten and Miorine’s arc continues to crash and burn. And poor Guel is about to get with even more family murder trauma. I can only hope El5n makes it out safely. I will be buying flowers for Lauda

#gundam #g witch #gundam witch from mercury

[heavyrainandsorrow]

Teddy

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

wc: 1.2k

summary: It never gets easier to say goodbye. Luckily for you, your husband knows that.

warnings: brief mention of children/starting a family & death | a little bit of angst I guess | not plot accurate | not proof read

a/n: this is the first fanfic I’ve posted in a while so I’m a little nervous! I want to write a part 2 but I think it can be read as a stand alone thing

With your husband in the Navy and you unable to follow him around wherever he went, you tend to get lonely a lot. Work could distract you for the most part, but the second that you crawled into bed and didn’t feel his arms wrap around you, it was all that you could think about. The fact that he was out somewhere and you couldn’t even be sure that he was still around. The fact that your king size bed was much too big for one person. The fact that you always made extra food when he was gone, forgetting that he wouldn’t be there to eat it.

Bradley being the funny, caring man that he is never helped much either. It wasn’t fun at all when you came home to a house both empty of his shoes and the voice that sounds more like home than your actual house does, especially not when there isn’t any hope of that voice returning anytime soon.

When he got called away to Top Gun you had been so sure that it would be like it always went; you’d get less distracted from your work, you’d build a sort of body with pillows to cuddle up to, and then he’d come home and everything would be fine. You would be a little lonely but that’s it.

Unfortunately that wasn’t how it went. You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to him because he’d had to leave for his flight earlier than either of you had expected. You had woken up hours later to nothing but a small note on a pillow, telling you just how much he loved you.

That was only the beginning of just how terrible it was. The next day, you quickly realized that he hadn’t called you at all. Not even just a quick “I’m safe” phone call after he had landed.

Your anxiety was already skyrocketing before you had realized. You had been woken up abruptly by a nightmare about getting that call. That one call that could change your life forever. The idea alone made you sick to your stomach. It was bad enough not hearing from Bradley, if anyone else called you in his place you would instantly know that something wasn’t right.

You two had been married for a year, had even started talking about the possibility of a child. You called him once, but he didn’t answer. You chalked it up to someone taking his phone. That was as far as you let your brain consider.

You hadn’t gotten the phone call yet, so it had to be fine. He wasn’t dead. If he was dead they would call you.

That’s what you had to tell yourself to get to sleep. To get yourself to think about anything but him, good or bad.

Six days passed and still nothing. The sixth day went fairly normally. You woke up, went to work, and took a walk after getting home.

You decided to get the mail. It had probably been piling up for a while anyway, you had a tendency to forget about little things like that when Rooster was away.

You grabbed everything out of your mailbox, including a small package. You didn’t pay much mind to it. Once you got home, you began to flip through the mail. You got to the last one. It was a letter from none other than Top Gun, the return address a stamp with no specific name.

In that moment you swore you had fainted. You couldn’t think of anything but Bradley — nothing you said to yourself changed that.

You weren’t sure what you felt, aside from impending doom. You weren’t exactly sad yet, though maybe you were a little angry at the fact that they had to send it through the mail.

You shakily opened the letter. You couldn’t accept it. At least, not until you saw it for sure. But the second that you opened the letter, you could’ve cried with relief. You could’ve recognized your husband’s handwriting anywhere, and there it was.

It wasn’t anything fancy. In fact, it wasn’t even as neat as his handwriting usually was, but it was just another thing you loved about him.

You barely even realized that you were smiling as you read his letter,

“I miss you already, even though I’m writing this on the plane. I kissed your forehead and I tucked you in, and it still wasn’t enough. But I wasn’t going to wake you up, you need your sleep. So I decided to write to you. I would’ve texted, but this felt more personal. I may have also lost my phone in the hurry. I’m sticking with the personal thing though.

“I’ve got something to send you. I was going to leave it on my pillow but I forgot. Guess I was still more asleep than I thought.

“I love you, forever and always, and I’ll be home soon. Then I’ll do whatever to make it up to you. I’m assuming you’ve been trying to call me, so I hope you aren’t too mad sweetheart.”

His writing alone was enough to make you as happy as it made you miss him. You wish you could just go along with him. Then you wouldn’t have to worry nearly as much and he could’ve told you all of that face to face.

Once you finished reading it a second time, pretending that Rooster was really there with you, you realized that you had gotten a package. You rushed to find it. Nearly throwing it with how quickly you grabbed the small thing.

The box couldn’t hold much, especially with how light it was. Maybe a bottle of something or a really long book, but you didn’t think it could be either of those things. It was so light it felt like it couldn’t have been full of anything but packing peanuts.

Still, you took out a pair of scissors and carefully cut it open. Just in case it wasn’t just packing peanuts.

As it happened, it wasn’t. It was a cute teddy bear. Its eyes were a dark blue color and it had an interesting pattern on a light blue background and that’s when it hit you. He had made you a teddy from one of his Hawaiian button up shirts. More specifically, the one that you had accidentally ripped while on your honeymoon. You had sworn he had thrown it away, you had told him to after all. But despite that, it made you happier than you would like to admit.

You were about to throw the box away, bear still in hand, when you realized that there was a note at the bottom. You smiled a little more as you grabbed it, wondering if he was just using the phone excuse as a reason to write you letters. You didn’t mind though. It was sweet and simple, just like most of the romantic things Bradley did for you.

It was shorter than the last one. Just a small thing about how much he loved you, and then a single sentence about how you could give it to your son once he was born. You laughed softly, but the idea of starting a family with him had been at the back of your mind ever since you first brought it up.

He couldn’t come home soon enough.

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x you #rooster top gun

[mephinomaly]

[TL] The King Below the Moonlight/Chapter 1

Rei Sakuma 2nd Feature Scout

Summary: The photos for Rei's Feature Live are mostly lax, candid shots, and the Producer can't quite articulate this to him. It's probably best for Rei to reconsider...

Season: Winter

Location: Cafeteria

Rei: Hmm. What to do…

Koga: Oi. Have you still not made up your mind? Haven’t ya agonised over this for long enough? I don’t wanna pressure ya or anythin’ but it’ll be best if you just decide.

Rei: I’m afraid it’s not that easy. The employee’s cafeteria has such a wide selection of food that I'm overwhelmed by the choices. I’m not sure what to get.

See, just looking at the menu is enough to quell my hunger.

Koga: Oi oi… Ain’t you getting your priorities twisted?

Rei: Right then, Koga. This is now a stakeout mission. Go around the cafeteria and see what everyone else is eating!

Koga: Aye aye! Leave it t’me.

—Is that your idea of a prank!? Why'dya even think about tryin’ to get me to do that!?

Rei: You got me. A shame. What made you realise…? Sit down, Wanko.

—Hm? Who was that? I heard my name…

Oya, it’s Jou-chan. Yes yes, thank you for all your hard work. Was it you who was calling out to me?

It’s lunch at the moment, so how about joining us?

Koga: Hey, somethin’ wrong? Yer face looks all sad. Whassup?

Rei: Huh? Ah, you’ve brought the photographs from the Feature Live shoot.

Koga: What the-. Give us a smile then. Your job and expression should match, y’know?

Rei: Umu. Is there more you’d like to say, Jou-chan? Is there something amiss?

Hm? There’s a problem with the photographs, and they can no longer be used?

I see. There’s not much I can do without seeing them first. Could I take a peek?

Koga: Lemme see too…

—The hell are these?

This one is of the vampire bastard meltin’ under the studio lights, and this one’s him sleepin’ in the coffin I brought t’the waiting room!

Is this you jus’ tryna seem cute ‘n innocent to cover up for the mistakes you made…? Are there actually no decent pictures~?

Well, if these are meant t’be Sakuma-senpai’s offstage persona, then they’ll do. But otherwise? Useless.

Rei: Ehhh~... That’s untrue. They’re still candid photos, and it’s gap moe. Look, don’t you think this is cute?

Koga: Well uh. You gotta consider havin’ the right balance.

Even though it's for the solo live, all the other guys’ have charmin’ photos, so it's lame if yours is the only one that’s so relaxed, right?

Showing a side of ya not seen on stage doesn’t mean bein’ lazy ‘bout it. Ain’t you the leader of an extreme and immoral unit?

Rei: Hmm. Do you share the same opinion as Koga, Jou-chan?

I see. Dearie me… How troublesome. But if that’s what you both believe, I suppose I’ll retake them…

Well then, Jou-chan. Could you squeeze me into your schedule once more?

Time: One week later

Location: RhyLink Office

Kuro: Huh? Yo, Sakuma.

Rei: Ah, Kiryu-kun. Though we share the same office space, I haven’t seen much of you lately. There’s something refreshing about it.

Kuro: Well, if we don’t see each other here, we will at the dorms.

Rei: What are you working on?

Kuro: Huh? Me? I got told to come pick up the script for next week’s recordin’. Speakin’ a which, weren’t you part of it too?

Rei: Ahh, so this is the script I received just now?

So in other words, we’ll be working together with AKATSUKI? I look forward to that.

Kuro: Ah yeah, same here.

Rei: Hm? Is that Jou-chan, hiding behind Kiryu-kun’s large frame?

Kuro: Ha?---Oh, Jou-chan. You scared me.

Oh, am I in your way? If so, my bad.

Rei: I see. You were looking for me? Again?

Ah, you have the new photographs we took. Come, come, show me.

Kuro: Heh. Feels real Sakuma-like. Fans’ll be real happy, right?

Rei: Yes. If we’ve received Kiryu-kun’s stamp of approval, then surely these will do.

Oya? It seems Jou-chan is still unsure about it…?

Kukuku… I don’t believe there’s anything wrong.

Not only does the Producer look up to the idol, the idol also looks up to the Producer.

What’s causing you trouble, Jou-chan?

I see… You don’t think it’s me enough…? I’m missing that secret ingredient to really make it pop… hm…

Yes, it’s quite hard to say.

Eh? Nevermind? Well, what are you concerned about then?

I see. So that’s why the photographs are fine? Everything’s dandy then.

…………

No…I understand. Please, continue as you are.

If Jou-chan the producer says it’s fine, then I shall take her word for it.

#rei sakuma #enstars #ensemble stars #translation

[coldgoldlazarus]

.

Still not sure how to talk to the people from the d&d group about last week.

I wanna be mature and constructive about this, but the best I can really muster is "Yeah I kinda fucked up in some spots, not trying to downplay that, but on the whole I'm just frustrated with the situation, and how all of what went wrong is being put on me in a way I feel is unfair."

I felt like I was rushed into something I wasn't entirely ready for, right on the heels of several months of stress over making sure I'd have food stamps again. Yes I volunteered for this several months beforehand, but not as an immediate thing, and more with a broad vibe than a clear pre-planned... plan. I wanted to have the time to figure out the finer details and put maps and materials together before committing to doing this, but instead between being busy with IRL shit, executive dysfunction and heat exhaustion being an absolute bitch, and my own anal-retentiveness about getting everything just right combined with not being entirely sure where to start, that didn't happen.

I really should have just said no, but everyone NEEDED SO BADLY to play something during the break from the main campaign, (even though there is a minecraft server literally right there) and the whole "if you don't pilot the EVA, Rei will be made to do so again" thing was in play with the other multishot that could have filled the gap getting off to a false start and not being entirely ready either. Plus, I wanted to get this test run out of the way so I could work on the reboot of the big magical girl campaign again while the current main one was drawing to a close. Being told July was gonna be the last chance to do that before a long stretch without interruptions kinda made me panic. So I said yes instead.

I figured given my track record, having the deadline would be a good way to ensure I actually worked on it, but like, I think it really just did more harm than good, compared to if I had let it breathe. I also thought I was a bit readier than I was, with some stuff I hadn't even considered needing to figure out cropping up right on the day of, and having to scramble to get those hashed out at the last second. So yeah, while this was going on I spent the bulk of the weeks not working on this, and then having to do the rest day-of, causing the session start time delays. (I could give a detailed breakdown on exactly what those unforseen "invisible steps" were, so they have context for why the delays kept happening the way they did, but I've already been told to my face by at least one of the group that she doesn't give a shit, so whatever.) That was a mistake on my part, not gonna try to say otherwise. I just should have said no in the first place.

And I guess there's the communication issue. That I did mess up on too, the first few weeks. I tried to do better about it last tuesday, at least, after going radio silence the prior week. I felt I did a decent job of giving updates on my progress and saying "hey this is probably happening but don't assume it is for sure until I say I am Done and Ready." It's out of my control that people went ahead and assumed it was a sure thing anyway. I literally said at one point that I needed to take the bus back home from the library and that would be causing another delay in my prep, only for someone to say "okay this is happening definitely at exactly when she gets home" and I had to say, no, that's just when I'll be getting home, I still have more setup to do after that. And it's a hard fucking balancing act in giving ETAs because people get mad if you give too big a number, but then I also tend to take longer than I estimate...

I should have just called it off then and there tbh. Just didn't wanna let people down second week in a row. Not that that worked out anyway.

And of course the straw to break the camel's back was that A: There was another thing I needed to finish that I thought I had already done, but had in fact only half-completed, B: one of the other players dipped out on account of a migraine, and I hate leaving people out on principle but everyone else wanted to go ahead anyway, and C: on top of those, this was suddenly needing to be the last session before the main campaign resumes yesterday, so I'd have to rush to complete yet another session's worth of content while running one. And also I'd been up for 26 hours straight at this point. How the fuck was I supposed to react? I needed to remove myself from the situation and I needed sleep.

(I will readily admit that waking up still pissed the next morning and pouring all my complaints into a shitty meme format generator was not a mature course of action. Again, not pretending I'm blameless here.)

...

Anyway, my takeaway from where and how I did fuck up and why, is that I'm just not cut out for this.

After the first run of the magical girl campaign crashed and burned, I figured out a lot of the hows and whys, and found solutions to those problems to enact for next time. But none of that was even relevant to where this one went wrong, so that's a whole new set of problems to also find answers for, and Idk how to do that other than just having everything already ready to go beforehand. A luxury I just don't think this group would be willing to afford.

And furthermore, on sitting back and discussing both campaigns and my approach, I think the way I'm coming at this is fundamentally incompatible with what the rest of the group wants out of a campaign, and this would extend to trying to reboot the big one as well. I don't really enjoy TTRPGs as a medium in practice as much as in theory, because I just function better telling a planned story, not playing an improv game. It's a bit frustrating when it feels like the rest of the group doesn't care about my big grand narrative, but on having the time to reflect on it, I think that one's a Me Problem and a symptom of the incompatible approaches. There's nothing wrong with either, but the two don't exactly mesh well. And this is only one example of that clashing, same happened with me as a player. (The worst of which was when I tried changing my approach! It didn't work and backfired harder!)

(Literally the one exception where things did go well, was because that character I was playing was a super easygoing, down-for-whatever and in-the-moment type, and that campaign didn't last long enough for something to go wrong anyway.)

What happened on Tuesday was basically me ragequitting, but my decision to leave altogether is not. It's me recognizing that I'm the weak link here, and so it would just be better for both me and the group for me to stop trying to jam a square peg into a round hole.

But of course, it seems at least some of them are mad at me over that, too. There's no winning.

So in the end, I don't really know what to say. Yeah, I fucked up. But no, I don't feel I fucked up badly enough to warrant this level of vitriol. I tried to learn from what went wrong and communicate better instead of shutting down, but that only does so much when people just decide what I said differently like with the bus thing, or change plans on me at the last second. I'm frustrated as hell, but not mad at the people, I'm just upset and annoyed that they're so mad at me.

I tried to do my best in time, but the timing was all wrong, and my best just wasn't good enough. Sorry.

#not a reblog #personal #aita #whining tw

[pillsarchive]

A few random head cannons I have for Edward Nashton <<33

His favorite book is house of leaves you cannot change my mind - its filled with mysteries and he loves that he can re-read it and find more little puzzles to solve every time.

He watches documentaries like a crazy man. He has a lot of unhealthy tendencies and behaviors, one of them is wallowing. Watching documentaries that make him sad or angry gives him an almost perverse sense of pleasure - its confirmation. Yes, the world is as terrible as you think it is. If he's not using them as a depressant he's watching them to learn. Understanding more about niche topics helps him write better riddles.

He's a punk. The music was one of the things that got him through his time at the orphanage, even as an adult one of the only times he feels sort of good is when he's at shows. Thrashing around and taking out his aggression via moshing. He's never felt the need to dress loud (probably due to self confidence issues, I have a feeling once he breaks out of arkham and he has no reason to hide his identity anymore he'll come into his own and put himself together better) but he does admire people who are alternative in some way a whole lot.

He has graphomania (an impulsive desire to write or draw). It started as a nervous habit as a child, writing down riddles or thoughts or bible quotes to get anxiety out, then it spiraled into writing anything - one word over and over again, nonsense, it doesn't even have to be legible.

He has always wanted to go back to college and get more degrees. He has a bachelors in accounting of course, but he wants so many more. He loves learning, he is sort of a humanitarian at heart (even though his rage stifles that sometimes - revenge is a hard thing for him not to want) so he greatly enjoys the atmosphere of college campuses too. When he went, even though he was still mostly shunned for being neurotic and strange, people were nicer to him than normal. In the classroom he felt at home - he's sort of a genius and other students had a hard time keeping up with him. His professors pushed him to pursue a more advanced degree but he couldn't afford it (and the arkham programs for getting the cash he needed were lacking, to say the least).

He's trans and on the spectrum.

He's a true crime nerd. He likes to read books on it more than watch podcasts or docs - he finds that reading about cases is more informative and less exploitative (as much as he maintains you should care about the victims more than the killers, it is kind of just talk. He has a huge fixation with murder. ) This mf is an encyclopedia when it comes to the zodiac killer - has he spent months trying to solve the ciphers? Yes.

GRAVITY FALLS GUYS. He loves - LOVES gravity falls. He is a children's cartoons enjoyer.

He burned down the orphanage.

He's a cryptid mystery girly. He loves ghost hunting tv shows and he's super into random mystery junk. He has solved kryptos. He does brag about this accomplishment to his fans. He does reveal what it means to spite the CIA.

Collects something weird and small like buttons or bottle caps or stamps.

Bilingual! He can speak the King's and latin.

Loves rats. In the orphanage they were scary, they stole stockpiled food which could mean starvation, they chewed on you and gave some kids infections, they were horrible. Now that he's out and living in his own place he finds a lot of catharsis in taming them and befriending them.

In my universe he was in a mook adjacent band that broke up because he couldn't work well with the other bandmates.

He did NOT FLOOD THE CITY. I feel like in the movie this was completely off the wall, imu he doesnt ever make a plan to flood the whole city. What he does imu for the finale is a surprise >:].

#edward nashton #the riddler paul dano #the batman #dano riddler #piddler? #diddler? #pedward dashton? #the batman 2022 #edward nygma #the riddler x reader #the riddler headcanons #edward nashton headcanon #my universe #not main universe

[elendsessor]

I imagine the Yatagarasu and Kuzunoha clan are very big on self sufficiency, meaning they grow their own food and raise their own livestock. Raidou’s loved animals since he was little, and if an animal needed to stay warm he would happily have them on his lap while worked. I wonder what he thinks about sheep. I think he’d like hanging out with sheep.

love this i love these headcanons anon keep them coming aaaa

i think he’d definitely be a bit of a farm boy. a bit. i don’t see him being the kind to always be able to work on farms due to training and the like but he’d do odd jobs or help with animal care.

the yatagarasu definitely feel like they’d be as traditional as possible, especially considering what we do know about the world the devil summoner series introduces aka demons find it easier to spread their influence and target people (literally the plot of soul hackers is one big allegory for how dangerous technology can be and how it can affect people which tbh old cyberpunk games like that aged too well). since they’re pretty isolated from what we’ve seen, along with other similar groups such as the tsukigata, so yeah they’d probably want less to do with “outsiders” and their pesky influence. tsukigata village is the closest we’ll probably get to figuring out how they operate as a community, also considering how, though the kanto region was rapidly modernizing both in universe and irl, a lot of japan was still heavily traditional (i guess that also might be true now??? there’s a reason as to why games set in modern japan are usually set in tokyo and surrounding cities, as tourism + where a country’s capital is placed has a massive influence on what parts of a country develop the most, so tokyo being both the capital and a massive tourist destination explains a ton).

the capital naturally gets more threats, what with that rapid modernization explained in 1’s opening and science stamping out the belief in the supernatural. you also have a ton of western influence coming in, so actual outsiders twisting what was already set in stone. (i guess this could also be taken as a critique of how the west was and is continuing to damage cultures thus making many customs and traditions obsolete since they’re not western enough.) naturally, the yatagarasu doesn’t stand for that, and especially not the kuzunoha (likely because their lineage possibly dates back to roughly 946—967 CE (according to yokai.com’s page on the legend of kuzunoha which is a very interesting read folklore is cool) so they have a lot to uphold), so they likely reject any and all outside influence. this likely includes raising livestock and other critters naturally found in japan, next to nothing invasive. have to keep it pure.

foxes are actually really popular in japan mainly due to their mythological ties including the actual kuzunoha, so maybe they have a few foxes around too! (immediately imagining all the screaming foxes do they are. actually kinda noisy.)

hey considering how some demons can read the minds of animals and i guess also make it so summoners can understand what an animal is saying, raidou and other summoners probably have a way with them :)

#shantien answers #headcanon hell #devil summoner