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yuichiroswife · 1 year

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃. without bothering to hush them, the little killer darts across the labyrinth of misty streets & flickering lampposts, searching for none other than his dearest friend. he knows that he is around here somewhere, trapped in this delusion of a moonlit city much like all of the other ( unfortunate ) children whom happened to be caught. the nonchalant guards don’t even blink as he passes, just rushing down the cobblestone pavements until the familiar sight of an angel sitting at the edge of a fountain comes into view, so terribly lost between own thoughts & its dark, shimmering waters.

the little killer slows down into a halt just then & with a soft breath, squats down, falling right into mika’s line of sight. as always, no words escape those silent lips. instead, min-jun proceeds to reach for something in his pocket & with a hint of a smile, reach up, pushing a lone chocolate square right between mika’s lips. it melts almost instantly along the tongue, tasting of sweet caramel, luxury, & a secret meant just for him. // happy white day ♥ !

✠ — ALL SOUND SURROUNDING HAD BEEN COMPLETELY BLOCKED OUT BY THE STATIC NOISE WITHIN THE BLONDE'S MIND, sapphire gaze staring unflinchingly into the water's depths as he remained ever still — almost as if mesmerized by the way the water moved because of the fountain's constant flowing stream — yet the look held within his eyes was not something that one would call childish excitement or curiosity. No, instead his eyes held something more concerning. Something much darker. Almost as if the shine had been completely taken from the blonde's eyes. What exactly could have caused such a thing, one couldn't be certain, especially given the fact he wasn't even focused enough to speak, but one thing was for sure — whatever it was certainly had him anxious. Though if one knew him well enough, the cause could likely be chalked up to a certain silver-haired vampire.

✠ — Gaze remained fixated upon the fountain's waters until the sound of hurried footsteps draws his attention, HEAD JUST ABOUT TO TURN TO THE SIDE WHEN SOMEONE CROUCHES DOWN IN FRONT OF HIM. He doesn't speak though, instead now focusing his sights upon the pale facial features of the one he called his beloved friend and companion. Seemingly taking a few moments to break his mind away from the overwhelmingly loud static, lips parting ever so slightly as if he was to say something — only for his mouth to be occupied by something being pushed between his lips.

✠ — THE SUDDEN RICH AND SWEET FLAVOR AGAINST HIS TONGUE TAKES HIM BY SURPRISE, finally forcing him back to reality as the shine in his eyes returns once more, clearly causing him to forget about whatever it was that was plaguing him — temporarily at least. Candy. 'Twas something that he hadn't had in a very long time... not since the world had ended anyway. How the other was able to get his hands on such a thing is a wonder in and of itself, ONE THAT MIKAELA DESPERATELY WISHES TO KNOW IN FACT, but alas... he only wishes that could could have shared such a treat with him instead of having the small square pushed into his mouth. Ah, but wait, the whole square wasn't in his mouth. It was perched in between his lips and only one side had touched his tongue, thus he had an idea. Ever so carefully, he manages to bite the small square in half before leaning forward to give the boy of raven strands a small kiss on the lips — transferring the other half of the chocolate square between Min-Jun's lips as he had done to him — before straightening himself back up.

✠ — "Haha, I hope you didn't expect me to eat that by myself~." There's a small fit of laughter that escapes his lips, A FAINT SHADE OF COLOR MANAGING TO TAKE OVER HIS FEATURES IN THE PROCESS, followed by an overly enthusiastic smile. Small hands move from their place upon his lap and reach forward, leaning down ever so slightly until delicate fingers were placed against both sides of Min-Jun's face. "I'd ask where you got that from, but I don't think you'd tell me regardless of if I did or not. So I won't even bother," he pauses for a moment as his thumbs make small circles against the other's skin, "though I have to say you caught me by surprise with it. I definitely wasn't expecting it!"

✠ — Even so, it was a delightful surprise to a rather dreary day for him, that much was for certain. Not to mention it was very sneaky of the other as well. Well played, very well played indeed. "Honestly... it's got me a little flustered." The words come forth in a rather uncharacteristically shy tone for once, further proving that the action made his heart skip more than a few beats, yet despite that, he still leans his forehead against his companion's. "Happy White Day, Min-Jun~. Thank you for the sweet surprise."

#✠ [ ' ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴀᴘᴇɢᴏᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ... ' ] - ✡ ɪɴ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ✡#✠ [ ' ɢɪꜰᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɢᴏᴅ. ' ] - ✡ ᴍɪᴋᴀᴇʟᴀ ꜱʜɪɴᴅᴏ ✡#✠ [ ' sᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ’s ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴅᴏᴏʀ. ɪ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍʏ ᴇᴀʀs ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅ. ' ] - ✡ ᴍɪɴ-ᴊᴜɴ ✡#✠ [ ' ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ’ᴍ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ? ᴏʀ ɪs ɪᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ? ᴡɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘs ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪss ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ? ' ] - ✡ s-ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ✡#✠ [ ' ɪ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ ᴛᴏ ғᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴇɴᴅ ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ. ' ] - ✡ ᴍɪɴ-ᴊᴜɴ x ᴍɪᴋᴀᴇʟ #✠ [ ' ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴜꜱ ɴᴏᴡ. ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡʀᴇᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ɢᴀᴍᴇ. ' ] - ✡ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ɪ. ✡#{ DSHKJBHJKGUKJD— }#{ THIS WAS SO UNBELIEVABLY CUTE. MY GOSH. }#{ I'm crying about the both of them being so precious together. *sobs* }#{ Listen. Listen. I know you said it melts against the tongue but I thought what if Mika could still share it? }#{ Even if it was just a little bit or half of the chocolate square. }#{ So that's what I did and I am not sorry about it. *cheesy grin* }#{ Min-Jun can enjoy some chocolate caramel too! }#{ Mika really said “I won't be the only one eating this. Not on my watch.” }#{ Seriously though. I can't stop squealing about how cute this was! }#{ I think it hits even harder knowing that I'm your exclusive Mika too. >///< }#{ You always send really cute stuff when I'm at my worst and it always makes me so happy. }#{ Okay let me post this before I flood the tags with me screaming. XD }#{ Thank you so much for this ask! }#{ Happy White Day to you too! }#{ Also... peep the new tags I made just for Min-Jun. }

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love-and-anarchy-au · 3 years

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Love & Anarchy: Chapter 22

good morning everyone! can you believe TOMORROW is chrismas?! (yes, i know tomorrow is nochebuena but idc as tomorrow night is when here in argentina, we recieve gifts) i seriously can’t believe it!! whatever, going back to this chapter, there’s literally nothing to say about it xd. its a bit short, but i guess its okay. the only other thing i had to tell you is that i might stop posting this AU as im finishing the last chapters and ace, its LONG. i personally asume no one is predisposed to read 56 chapters of an AU that’s about a character I just care about so, I’ll see. maybe i post till the last chapter of this season, but i dont know. for now, enjoy this chapter and i’ll see you on friday! <3

REMEMBER THIS AU HAPPENS IN THE SAME UNIVERSE THAT THIS ONE

Find out what this AU is about here

Masterlist

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @honey-hippie-harper @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @everyone-has-a-nightmare @magykaldealings @nobellrenaissance @cerenoya @cassin-the-assasin @cindersnightmare

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Part 2: A teen named Ace Artino

17 years old Alec

Downtown 68 and Lumbrad Street.

That was where Irene Lopez, the psychic, lived.

That was where Alec had gone.

The building of Downtown 68 and Lumbrad Street was the strangest Alec had ever seen in his life. Like almost all the buildings in Gatlon that were not part of the suburbs nor middle class, it was an old building that had been rebuilt and ‘updated’. It seemed to be a five-story one, like the ones that surrounded it. It was painted in swamp black (it even looked as if the paint was not dry but fresh). There were very few windows, in fact, there were no windows, actually… yes, there were windows. A mirror-reflective glass door could be seen from the corner, but beyond that, it was a concrete slab that seemed to be melting torturously slow.

Alec approached that mirror-door, and realized that there was only one doorbell, with an eye drawn on it. He pressed the button, and no chime was heard.

The wind blew and the door swung open, not making the slightest noise.

A chill ran down Alec's spine, and he entered the building even though it was strange for a door to open by itself. He didn't have much of a choice; besides, he wanted to meet this psychic that Alexandra had mentioned so long ago.

He wondered if she had ever met her.

Behind the mirror-door, there was a corridor, a narrow corridor, dark, and only illuminated by a dim and gloomy light bulb. At the end of the corridor, there was a black wooden door, so black and shiny it seemed liquid; it was melting like the outer facade. Standing at the front of the door, his hand reaching for the doorknob, full of uncertainty, Alec saw a faint reflection of himself, only with a helmet, a coat, and hands full of blood.

What was that place?

He wouldn't leave without finding out.

He knocked on the door three times.

A very deep voice, as from beyond the grave, answered.

“Come in, at your own risk.”

Alec put his invisible hand on the doorknob, turned it, and pushed the door open with his mind.

The enclosure behind the door looked more like a cave than an apartment. It was illuminated only by the light of five mostly melted candles on the floor, and no walls could be made out; the room seemed like endless darkness. Near the light, there was a person, sitting cross-legged on the ground, a gray bandage across their forehead, and clothing (was it clothing or just cloth?) of the same color. They had their eyes closed, and their palms over their heart. At the same time, their lips were a little separated.

Alec approached until he was in front of that person.

He then realized it was a woman, a woman without hair, gaunt and fresh features simultaneously. High cheekbones, skin gleaming and pale as a corpse's under the cold lights of the morgue. She was both young and old, both beautiful and disgusting. She was…

“Irene Lopez?” Alec asked, not sitting down.

The woman opened her eyes, which were covered by an internal haze. Her irises were fuzzy, and her pupils a point of darkness amid gray clouds.

“Alec Artino,” she said, and closed her eyes. She suddenly opened them. “Alec James Artino.”

He didn't ask how she knew his name, he just nodded.

“I assume you know why I’m here,” he asked calmly.

Irene looked at him, although she didn't look at him. It was as if he had become translucent and she was looking through him, like someone looking at a window from a bookstore or a clothing store, not caring about the crystal, the glass. His body was only an intermediary between her and her penetrating eyes, seeing beyond his appearance.

He felt weird, naked.

Irene closed her eyes, after observing his soul for a while.

“I will not intervene in your revolution. It is not my duty.”

Alec frowned.

“Don't you want to be free?” he questioned.

She smiled wisely, like someone who had born and reborn over and over, for a thousand centuries.

“I am a messenger of time. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Alec relaxed his eyebrows, so as not to alarm or tighten her. If Irene could see the future, he needed her in his revolution; he couldn’t lose her as his ally, as an Anarchist.

But she, that woman, looked anything but anarchic.

“As a messenger of time, can you read my future?” Alec asked respectfully and sat down across from Irene.

She shook her head.

“Not today. Time has denied me that privilege.”

He was within a second of hissing, but a helpless voice in his head stopped him.

Composure is respect, Ace.

And he was about to lose it.

He took a deep breath, stood up though he had just sit down, wiped his pants and ran a hand through his hair. Irene did not seem to be one of those who gave an arm to twist, despite appearing a fragility only usual in porcelain. Also, maybe today she couldn't tell him his future, but maybe she would be able in another time, and Alec couldn't miss that opportunity. So he retreated, in peace and silence, respecting Irene's decisions.

Just when he got to the door, he heard her voice.

“Alec…” said the woman, although she did not speak.

No.

The voice that spoke was Julieta’s.

A lump appeared in Alec's throat and he only felt more rushed.

Not now, not now.

“Wait,” Julieta asked.

Why why why, I can't deal with this.

“Il mio amore... per favore. Be patient,” Julieta begged when Alec left the room and walked (ran) down the narrow corridor. Millions of memories boiled in his mind, voices, fragments, moments, when he opened the door with his powers, and he ran away from that strange place, fleeing from his past, that past that he wanted to silence...

Much more in those moments.

He had already managed to silence his sister's voice, he didn't need it.

Not anymore

The only voice he needed at the moment was James’, his’, the true visionary of this age. Alec walked the sidewalks, faster and faster until he jogged, until he ran. His lungs gasped for air, his throat burned, his muscles ached but he kept running and running.

Alec...

He didn't want to hear that voice anymore, because deep down he knew his sister would hate what he was about to do. She would hate that he was about to collapse a society, to sin, to... to...

Ace...

His throat burned as if he had coal between his skin and his stomach was churning like a washing machine. When his body commanded ‘enough’, he stepped into a dark alley, caring for nothing but breathing, and bent his knees to blades, his heels in the air.

He inhaled deeply, taking in air and logic.

Release what you have to release.

He exhaled before letting go of the reins.

Alec covered his mouth with his hands and screamed, causing his throat to fill with coal again, this time accompanied by lava. His vocal chords shattered like a used guitar’s, his throat burned like an entire forest and his eyes flooded with icy tears like an iceberg breaking apart. He screeched until he was breathless and voiceless, until he was left with nothing but himself. Rivers of tears flowed from his eyes to his jaw, and he didn't feel his tongue, but his soul. Every part of him was an echo, the echo of his screams silenced by his own hands.

Now don’t you ever scream again.

He swallowed hard to calm the burning. He cleaned the rivers with his fingertips. He ran his fingers through his hair. He breathed, savoring the air in his lungs. He interlocked the palms of his hands together .

He would never lose his posture again.

He ignored Julieta’s voice, which was still echoing in his head.

He turned his back on Alexandra’s disdainful gaze.

He felt the wind like a caress from James on his shoulder.

The voice in his head, whispered:

You know what you must be, Ace.

From today, and forever, he would be the leader of the revolution.

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