#but clothes still do exist in a practical sense just not with nearly as common use as in humans

[chisatowo]

Quick lil Alpha doodle

[imperial-nuisance-rudje]

Exalted Secret Santa!!

and this year i will be taking measures to NOT be horribly late...!

Characters under the cut! Names link to Toyhou.se profiles with more detail/refs.

The Crimson Mask - No Moon Lunar, nonbinary (he/him), Tell - Opal eyes+eye scarring

Crimson is generally agreeable and friendly, though he tends to be somewhat cold with people he is unfamiliar with (due to fear, mostly), and his flaky short-term memory and sacrificed sense of time makes him a very strange conversationalist. He has a fairly easy smile and generally does not actually show true anger unless he is in an extremely bad space.

He is an exceptionally beautiful person with thick, kinky red hair (usually kept in box braids outside of Hair Care Time), nearly black skin, and intensely striking eyes made of opal, crossed with paler scars. He's extremely short, barely 5'2", though his raw presence makes him feel taller. He usually (though not always) wears a mask that hides, at minimum, his eyes, and more often he hides his entire face. He usually wears a qixiong ruqun with a light blouse, though he does add pants under the skirt for practicality's sake when he has to travel or ride long distances. He always keeps his artifact cane (made of moonsilver and bone) nearby, and also usually has a metallic fan and unusually heavy sash on him as well.

He has a hybrid form; when looking at the refs on TH, go for more recent ones.

His Iconic anima obscures his body almost entirely, and visually is more the vague, shifting impression of being hunted by a Utahraptor in a moonlit forest than something clear and solid.

Do not draw him doing anything that 100% requires sight to do or without his moonsilver cane--he's totally blind, the cane is an important aid for him. Any alternate clothing should be loose at the wrist.

Calligraphic Chain - Serenity Sidereal, man (he/him)

Chain is a manipulative little bastard man that hates all the bad shit about his job and most of his coworkers, and is at the same time a deeply sympathetic person who wants to make things better (though he has no faith in his work in Heaven achieving anything resembling that). He is used to hiding his deep rage and disdain for others for his own safety, so he tends to present himself as someone who is willing to help if he's helped in return. He has no stomach for violence, even as he acknowledges that it's sometimes needed.

Chain is a claw strider beastman--specifically, the tiny fluffy desert kinds (Velociraptor mongoliensis). He's very small compared to a normal human, only about 2'6" or so, and he tends to get stepped on by those not used to looking down. His plumage is a dull white-and-beige and his scales are dull grey, both colors common on males. He has darker markings under his eyes that make their golden color quite striking. His hands have human flexibility and movement, but are still tipped with raptor claws. His face is less innately expressive than an ordinary human's; he usually expresses emotion with head/neck posture and crest movement. This does not mean all expressions are impossible for him, just that he’s more limited in what he can do and many of the ordinary human ones he’s capable of are obviously not natural for him. His tail is long and feathered, and is held parallel to the ground at rest. He dresses very brightly and ornately, usually in cuts based on his native Chiaroscuro, though he's considered downright subdued for Heaven.

Mountain Heart Empress - Full Moon Lunar, woman (she/her), Tell: Jackrabbit ears

Empress is a rowdy, reckless, and headstrong woman who tends to punch first and ask questions later. The things she cares about she cares about at maximum intensity, and the things she doesn’t care about may as well not exist. Despite this she is extremely successful, having survived multiple centuries by knowing which fights demand a cut-and-run approach and which fights she can actually take on.

She’s a short and lean woman, with pale(ish) skin darkened by the sun. Her extremely long hair is a light brown with blonde highlights, and is very straight and smooth. She wears very little actual armor, most of it being the gorget and belt she wears, trusting entirely in her skill and regeneration to keep her alive. She flaunts her Lunar status by wearing lunar symbols like the one keeping her chest wrap in place.

While she has a hybrid form, it has not been designed. Her tattoos are on her lower back and have also not been designed. 

Ragara Shayun - Ghost (formerly a Water Aspect Dragon-blooded), man (he/him)

Much of Ragara Shayun's better qualities have been subsumed by his desire to see his house destroyed for scapegoating him. They still surface when he's not in a situation that isn't driving him into a murderous frenzy, but he no longer has any social obligation to fake not being full of acid and hate. When he isn't focused on his vendetta, he's a shockingly charming and witty man who tends to be polite, and at all times he is terrifyingly cunning. He remains loyal to and affectionate with the now-Abyssal who was his mortal lover in life, though their relationship has been warped by Shayun’s ghostly obsessions and Wanderer in Flame’s nature as a deathknight.

I don’t expect anyone to pick him since this placeholder pog is literally the only image I have of him, but for a body type ref the Viera i made using that character data is still viable (including the terrible case of gamer spine tbh). Shayun looks mostly as he did when alive, save for the obviously severed neck and a head only kept in place by ironclad self-image. He is a tall, delicate, pale, and pretty man with long, dark purple hair that he often elaborately braided--an affectation picked up by his time in the North. He was rendered odd-eyed due to a sorcerous lab accident, dyeing his left eye a magenta that contrasted strongly with the original dark purple in his right. He was nearly blind to normal sight in the affected eye, and he was notably more nervous and jumpy even despite having the ability to actually see the flow of essence after. He "wears" (insofar as any ghost wears clothing) the style he preferred in life, not what he was wearing at death; a mix of then-current fashions from his workplace and the Blessed Isle proper. In life he often wore vibrant eye makeup, and this is reflected in his shade. He has aspect markings of some kind, but I am not totally certain what they should be; have fun with that.

...I guess there’s Hunter of Hunters but they’re not visually distinct enough from their source material. If you want the challenge of making them visually distinct... have fun? 

Note that for all of them while I don’t mind, like, blood/bruises I’d prefer they remain mostly intact.

[promshub]

even in the tranquility of downtime , phoenix found a way to shine . everyone was akin to a moth to his flame , enjoying all kinds of exciting activities with his fellow younger agents . except for today , that is . phoenix could probably count on his fingers how many days in a month were like this . uneventful , dull , boring . at least compared to the others . as creative as he may be , the lack of distraction on base was lackluster . he could only reread the small amount of books he had and ( totally ) knew front to back so many times , or continue to remain king at ( not just ) target practice .

that's how phoenix found himself in the common room , with boredom deep in his bones and idly scrolling on his phone . checking out a new pair of sneakers , discovering new ideas for some new tunes , the little device doing everything in its power to keep the living flame occupied ( it's difficult to keep the definition of entertaining entertained ) . but phoenix always preferred the company of people to a screen , and with the absence of his friends he had to make do . his gaze rose from the phone , getting almost startled by omen , out of everyone , sitting in the armchair across the room . the man seemingly appeared out of nowhere ( typical of him , phoenix should be used to it by now ) , or was he just so engulfed on that new pair of shoes he didn't notice him walking in ? nah , phoenix's senses were still as sharp as they were on the battlefield . omen was just as concentrated as he was mere moments ago… on knitting . ball of crimson yarn sat on his lap , contrasted the other's dark clothing caught the flame's eye in an instant . orange eyes followed the thread up and up to the needles skillfully worked by slender fingers .

@revenantwraith said: "don't look at me like that."

omen's deep voice makes phoenix almost flinch . almost . " i wasn't staring ! " quickly he defended himself from an accusation that wasn't nearly there . he didn't even realize for how long he was long , or even if he was looking for long at all but it felt strange to be the one doing the staring instead of being stared at . " i just think your technique is ace, mate ! " if you asked phoenix to name a knitting technique you would be met with silence , but he was certain they existed . just look at omen , he was doing great . " i know my stuff around those things , actually . " a nod towards the needles and the yarn . " a mate of mine showed me back in uni , but you know me – i'm a natural at everything . " bright smirk crossed his face , nonchalantly leaning back into his seat as if the reality of the statement wasn't a different one . as if the only time he attempted anything to do with yarn he turned the ball into a gigantic knot .

[tyonfs]

i like me better (when i’m with you)

PAIRING ▸ jeong jaehyun x fem!reader 

GENRES ▸ friends to enemies to lovers, college au, sports, friends with benefits, smut, crack, fluff 

WARNINGS ▸ sexual !! tension !! lots of it, smut (public sex, fingering, hate sex, raw sex, pool sex, oral sex), mark lee cockblocking, also yes, there’s actual fluff

SUMMARY ▸ there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts. 

PLAYLIST ▸ i like me better by lauv • unravel me by sabrina claudio

WORD COUNT ▸ 11896 words

TAG LIST ▸ @gotoartistprofile @chanluster​ @steamyjaehyun

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ big shoutout to fia for hyping me up to complete this and i hope you guys enjoy it !! thank you so much for reading ♡ part of the dunk shot! series but can be read separately!

SOMETIMES, THE AMOUNT OF HATRED YOU HAD FOR JEONG JAEHYUN AMAZED YOU.

To the average human being, Jeong Jaehyun was, in a sense, perfect. On the surface, he was everyone’s trademark Golden Boy—good grades, athletic, and a seemingly good personality. The last point, however, was a complete and utter lie. Simply put, Jaehyun was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you, unfortunately, wound up becoming his target.

If it weren’t for your love for cheerleading, you probably would never have to see Jaehyun, but your passion came with a price. Competitors were often asked a series of questions, and these questions typically included inquiring about your hardships as an athlete. If someone were to ask you what the hardest part of being a cheerleader was, your answer would not be what they expected.

It wasn’t getting back up after bad falls that left you with bruises and a concussion. It wasn’t dealing with the basketball team’s aftermath of a devastating loss and having to cheer them on through it. It wasn’t waking up extra early for morning practices, or having to push yourself to run miles in the sweltering heat. Hell, it wasn’t even dealing with the horny basketball team members at afterparties.

It was the annual training camp.

Every winter, the team attended a week-long training session along with several other teams in the city. With state-of-the-art facilities and a massive training center, the training camp was an event that the entire team looked forward to. Although the training was brutal, the luxury of the hotel rooms and the gourmet meals had made up for all of that. Yet, despite all of that, the camp itself was still hell for you.

It wasn’t all bad, though. In fact, you indulged in the concept of a training camp, delighted with the opportunity to meet cheerleaders from different universities. A handful of your friends from high school had joined teams at different universities, so it was exciting to get to see them all again. All in all, it was the whole package deal: friends, your favorite sport, and fun times. What could possibly ruin that?

Well, a certain someone by the name of Jeong Jaehyun could, and that wonderful individual incensed your fury quite like no other.

“You again,” you spat, clutching your duffel bag strap. You had just gotten off the bus to head into the hotel, but the devil himself was blocking your way.

“Y/N,” the devil cooed, “do you need help carrying that?”

“I’m fine.”

You shrugged Jaehyun off and tried to move past him, but the bane of your existence had other plans. He tossed you a small carton of milk; it was the kind you could buy at a vending machine. Your reflexes kicked in just in time for you to catch it, giving him a questioning look.

“You should be drinking more milk, Y/N. It’s good for you,” Jaehyun said. You were sure he was going to make a snide comment so you opened your mouth to protest, but he continued, “Jaemin likes big tits, you know?”

Ouch.

You and Jaehyun went farther back than you’d like to admit. While you did currently attend different universities, you had the joyous experience of going to the same high school as him. He wasn’t too different now; he had the same dimpled smile, the same godly features, and the same cocky smirk when things were going the way he planned. What was different was that you two were once friends.

And what took the cake? You had a big crush on his friend and fellow teammate. Introducing Na Jaemin, everyone.

It wasn’t like you never got over Jaemin, but you had to admit that your heart still fluttered pitifully whenever you saw him. It didn’t help that he was so breathtakingly beautiful, so undeniably genuine, and such a sweetheart. Unfortunately, Jaehyun knew of your little secret. Being the conniving little snake he was, he used it to his advantage.

Ever since your fallout with him in your senior year of high school, you’ve hated Jeong Jaehyun, and you were sure he hated you right back. It almost felt akin to the competition at this point, and you were a pretty sore loser. Honestly, you were sad initially when he broke off your friendship in senior year and threw crude insults at you. You normally didn’t let things get to you, but it hurt to hear that your best friend didn’t want anything to do with you after you had told him you were going to a different university. You were sure the both of you had grown past that, but now he had changed from a sincere highschooler to a complete low-life piece of shit.

“You’re a douche, Jaehyun,” you sneered.

A grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I know.”

You scoffed. “God, if I could, I would smash that pretty face into—”

“Hey!” a loud voice laced with trepidation interjected. It was your best friend on your school’s basketball team, Mark Lee, coming to your rescue; or, rather, he was trying to prevent you from doing something you’d most probably regret. He shot Jaehyun a warning look and slung an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, what’re you doing here? We have to check into our hotel rooms.”

You looked back at Jaehyun to see a smug look on his face before he turned to catch up to Taeyong and Jaemin. You looked back up at Mark, who was also keeping an eye out for the demon in disguise.

“Thanks for getting me out of that mess,” you mumbled. “That guy is so infuriating. I can’t believe he still brings up Jaemin when I’m clearly over him!”

Your words were sharp enough that Mark and the people around you flinched, even if they weren’t completely paying attention to your rant. It was common knowledge that Jaehyun’s presence left you in low spirits, and Mark had come to terms that you would always be in a bitter mood during the training camp, and that there was only one person to blame for it.

Mark shot you a sympathetic look that you knew was intended to show his helpfulness, but instead just served to make you appear all the more bitter.

“Why don’t you just ignore him?” he suggested. “He’s just looking for a reaction out of you.”

“If I let him get the last word, then he wins.”

“At least he’d stop bothering you,” Mark reasoned as you both made your way to where your team had gathered by the reception desk.

“Is this about Jaehyun again?” Zhong Chenle chimed in, a devilish grin plastered across his face. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped.

Chenle just stared at you, arching a brow as if the answer should have been obvious. “You and Jaehyun,” he said, “there’s some tension there.”

“Wow, Sherlock Holmes. Observant, aren’t you?” you spat, words dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve hated each other for years. Of course there’s tension.”

Johnny Suh snorted, averting his gaze as to not bring attention to himself. Chenle rolled his eyes, a delighted smile on his face as he watched you carefully, digging into his bag of chips in the meantime.

“Y/N, I think he means a different kind of tension,” Mark said.

“What kind of tension?” you asked, shocking the rest of them with your surprisingly innocent response. In retrospect, it was more because you couldn’t imagine the answer being anything past the realm of hatred.

While they all hesitated to respond, Johnny spoke up, “He meant the ‘I wanna beat you up and then have rough sex with you’ kind of tension.”

You immediately froze—long enough for Chenle to take a picture of your reaction—the expression on your face a cross between incredulity and visceral rage. You must have looked like a ticking time bomb because Mark had to take a cautious step back.

“Come again? Rough sex?” You were well aware of how strangled and pitched your voice sounded as soon as it escaped your lips, how guilty it sounded, but you couldn’t focus on that as the weight of Johnny’s words were sinking in. “Jaehyun and I?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Johnny answered.

“That’s a lie.”

“Yeah? Then why do you two always look at each other so weird?”

You didn’t know how to defend yourself now so you just said, “He’s a bastard and I would never see him in any other way.”

“You say that now but we all know—”

“Alright, let’s drop it,” Mark said, trying to defuse the situation before you blew it up into an argument. “I would rather go rest in my hotel room rather than bear witness to a homicide.”

“Fine, fine,” Johnny relented.

You scoffed and jabbed at his foot with yours before letting the topic go. Your squabbles with them were all in good nature, but this one somehow put you off. It was like Johnny had planted the seeds and were waiting for them to grow. You were starting to mull over every interaction you’ve had with Jeong Jaehyun.

Johnny and Chenle had made a startlingly accurate observation. You and Jaehyun did look at each other for a little too long sometimes, nearly to the point where it seemed like you were basking in the attention of the other—

No fucking way.

You were not going down that path. There was nothing more to your relationship with Jeong Jaehyun than pure hatred and resentment. He was a douchebag who was intent on making you feel like shit. His only motive was to start shit again between you and Jaemin, who you would’ve completely forgotten by now if it weren’t for him.

No way. There was absolutely no undercurrent of desire that was creeping its way to be uncovered.

Or was there? a small, treacherous part of your mind offered.

You were lost in your thoughts as the coaches handed you your room key, as you waited for your roommate who was some girl named Eunha from the other school, as you made your way to your room on the fifth floor.

The only thing you could think about were those long stares, those mesmerizing eyes, and the implication behind them. You always attributed it to Jaehyun being a hormonal teenage boy, but you had to admit that you’ve seen him look at you with some semblance of lust. Perhaps that same feeling was buried far in the depths of your consciousness, too.

Could you possibly be attracted to the devil incarnate, Jeong Jaehyun?

No, you argued with yourself, and shit, even your frontal lobe sounded pretty unconvinced. He’s a petty bastard and that’s all he’ll ever be.

You instilled the mantra of you and Jaehyun being sworn enemies in your head, but you couldn’t help the fact that it was peppered by the memories of an irritatingly familiar smirk. You scowled, willing your head to get rid of all-things-Jeong-Jaehyun, but he was right there.

Literally.

He was standing right in front of you.

“Hey, neighbor,” he teased, all too satisfied with the horrified look on your face. “Guess you can’t get rid of me.”

You were falling when you jolted awake.

A groan tore its way past your lips. You made sure you didn’t disrupt Eunha’s sleep before you recounted your dream. It had been a while since you’ve had one, and realization was morphing into shame when you realized what kind of dream it was. You’ve never had a wet dream before but what made you want to astral project yourself into oblivion was when you realized that Jaehyun caused it.

After tossing and turning for a couple of minutes in a desperate attempt for sleep to overcome you once more, you came to terms with the fact that you were staying awake for now. Staying awake was worse, though, because there was no way you could keep the intruding thoughts at bay. Not with the way Jeong Jaehyun kept flashing behind your eyelids, at least.

You considered how to spend the rest of your night, surveying your options as you stared up at the ceiling:

Watch season three of Riverdale on Netflix so you could make fun of it.

Attempt to sleep, but with little success because there was no way you were going back to bed after that dream.

Count the slacks of the window’s blinds even though it would be pointless because what the fuck were you going to do with that information?

It was truly astounding how interesting your life was.

You couldn’t think clearly with Eunha’s soft snoring, so you grabbed your keys and pushed the door open carefully to keep it from squealing. After your delicate movements to escape your room quietly, you leaned against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. You weren’t too keen on someone scolding you in the middle of the night for being outside, but you needed to clear your head somewhere. You packed for weather that was balmy, but the air conditioner carried a bite to it that made you wish you hadn’t just worn shorts and a tank top to bed.

You could practically hear Mark mocking you if he were here: Are you in the right headspace, Y/N?

You shook your head, getting your provoking best friend out of there, but instead, you found yourself wandering into dangerous territory again.

Johnny and Chenle were parroting the same words over and over again in your head. You wished you could use your metaphysical hands in your head and squeeze the life out of them, but they always flew out of your grasp. You clicked your tongue absentmindedly, your annoyance rehashing itself as your mind gravitated back to Jeong Jaehyun with his stupid smirk and annoyingly persistent cockiness. It was almost pitiful that you hated his guts and yet you couldn’t deny the magnetism he carried, the pull that made your breath hitch when he met your eyes.

His presence was announced by the change in the air more than anything else. You didn’t have to see him to know he was there. You clenched your jaw; you couldn’t catch a break from him even during the ungodly hours of the night.

He was unavoidable.

He hummed with amusement. “Look who’s here.”

“What are you doing up this late? Go to bed.”

You didn’t even bother to look at him because there was one thing you were sure of and it was that you could not look at his sickeningly attractive face right now. Jaehyun didn’t move, blatantly ignoring your order. The tension was so thick that you wanted to storm away, but you knew he would follow you just to piss you off.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “You should be the one resting up. You cheerleaders always train until you’re near death.”

“Can’t sleep,” was your curt response.

He laughed once, a short sound that was pretty much gone the moment it hit your eardrums. “What? You get nightmares or something?”

“So what if I do?” you retaliated, getting oddly defensive. It was a given that you’d lie about getting a nightmare over a wet dream. “It’s none of your business.”

He laughed again but this time it was lower, more dangerous. “It’s my business when it concerns you.”

“I have and will never be your business, Jeong Jaehyun.”

He leaned against the wall. “I beg to differ.”

“Then keep begging.”

“If you say so.”

“Jaehyun,” you interrupted your own banter. “What’s the point of this conversation? Just go back to your room so we can go back to not talking to each other.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you said. “I don’t want to talk to you, so go find someone who does.”

“We don’t have to talk.” Suddenly, his voice sounded closer, and you forced your gaze down at the strangely-patterned hotel carpet.

You swallowed thickly. “I’m here to clear my head. I don’t want you to hover around me for the rest of the night.”

“Actually, I had something else in mind.”

He closed in on you, one of his hands skimming up the soft skin of your arm. A shudder ran down your spine as you felt his fingers travel up to your shoulder, your collarbone, and then the side of your neck. With a swift movement, he caged you in his arms, biceps flexing as he did.

What was going on? You couldn’t quite keep up with the situation but the way Jaehyun was looking down at you made you feel hot. It was exactly like your dream—

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.”

You couldn’t stop the words from escaping your lips when you felt his hot breath on your neck. Your head went fuzzy and you were pretty sure your knees were ready to buckle under you. The corner of Jaehyun’s lip lifted into a smirk as if he had been planning this. You mustered a scowl at him but one thing was clear: you screwed yourself over by getting into this situation.

Damn it. You knew you should’ve watched season three of Riverdale instead

Also, Chenle and Johnny were right. Not that you’d ever tell them that; put simply, you were a sore loser.

Lust was swimming in Jaehyun’s eyes. The way he caged you felt predatory, a show of dominance rather than passion. That smirk of his carved in deeper, and it only pissed you off. Yet, as much as it pissed you off, all you wanted him to do was just ruin you.

Your pride was too strong, though, and you concluded that you would rather stick a fork in your eye than let Jaehyun do what he wanted. This sparked a dilemma in your head: to fuck or not to fuck Jaehyun, that was the question. One sounded like a pretty uneventful night, while the other sounded appealing save for the self-loathing you’d experience afterward.

“You want me, Y/N,” he cooed. “I know you do.”

“I hate you.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“I mean it, Jaehyun,” you hissed. Your head was screaming at you to just go with it, but denying Jaehyun’s advances and provokes was just natural instinct to you. “I don’t want you. Stop lying to yourself.”

“Is that so? I think you’re the liar here,” he replied easily as you dodged his attempt to kiss you.

You pushed at his muscular arm but he didn’t budge. For a moment, you strongly considered just dropping to the ground and crawling out from under his legs, but you were done for. Seconds later, Jaehyun’s hand flew up, long fingers digging into the soft flesh of your face as he forced your chin upward to look at him directly. The lust in his eyes was so clear, so alluring, and it made you stop struggling for a second.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Let go of me.”

“Good, it’s a waste of breath.”

“Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?”

“You did. Many times.”

“Just fuck off already.”

Your words were like poison, but for some odd reason, Jaehyun was immune to it. Any reasonable person would at least flinch, but Jaehyun was so fixated on his one goal. Again, he didn’t budge. He gazed into your eyes with a fierce intensity that threw you off.

“Just let me fucking kiss you, Y/N.”

His smirk was gone. He wasn’t teasing you anymore. Jaehyun’s eyes darkened with his command.

He leaned in and you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips, drinking in your appearance. You were pulled into his trap and you hated yourself for it. You swallowed hard as all of your worries about being with Jaehyun and getting caught had started to fade away. All you could do was yield to him.

“Fine,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” was all he got out before basically smashing your lips together.

It was rushed, messy, and way too rough. Jaehyun grabbed the back of your neck, his other arm still locking you in place. Your hands moved from gripping at the front of his shirt to slowly wrapping around his neck. You weren’t sure how you felt, but there was something that made you want to tangle your fingers in his hair and get lost in him.

The moment Jaehyun’s tongue slid along the crease of your lips, you were conflicted. You weren’t exactly sure what to do so he took the reins. You wondered if he was expressing his pent-up hatred as well. It was clear in the way he was taking prying your mouth open with his tongue, snaking his hot muscle to dance with yours as if he had something to prove. He wanted you to see that he was the dominant one, that he had leverage over the situation.

But when he broke away, he flipped the switch. The both of you were left catching your breath, Jaehyun resting his forehead against yours in a feeling that had a weird sort of intimacy stemming from it. His hand dropped from your neck to brush messy locks of hair behind your shoulders.

Well, that explained why humans were so tempted by the devil.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jaehyun grinned down at you.

You fought down the shyness that was creeping into your chest. Before you could respond, the both of you turned your heads at the sound of footsteps. A flashlight glimpsed by you when you saw two dark figures at the end of the hall. It didn’t sound like your coach, but you weren’t too keen on sticking around to figure out who it was.

“Son, how in the world did you get locked out of your room this late?” one of them asked.

“I’m telling you, I needed to use the bathroom so I went outside without my key, and then I remembered the bathroom was in the room.”

That voice was most definitely Mark.

“Hey!” the security guard scolded when he saw you two. “What are you kids doing? It’s late!”

“You’re on your own.” You pushed Jaehyun away from you and fumbled for your keys before Mark or the security guard could spot you. “Bye.”

You jammed your key in, not worried about waking up your roommate anymore. All you could hear was Jaehyun growling out a short string of curses before you shut the door behind him and leaned against it. Your head was still reeling in what had just happened, but that kiss had left you in the clouds. You could feel the ghost of his lips on yours. Dazed, you just fell onto your bed, into the entrancing clutches of sleep.

You were exhausted when you woke up, and you blamed Jaehyun for it.

You weren’t in the proper condition for training; you hadn’t gotten enough sleep and your head was a mess (well, you supposed you were the only one to blame for the latter). You forgot to set your alarm so you woke up to Eunha shaking you gently, coaxing you into stirring. She was already dressed, tying her hair up in a ponytail. You all but jumped out of bed when you saw her, thinking you were late.

“What time is it?” you asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stood up and tried to adjust to the morning light.

“You’ve still got plenty of time,” she assured you. “I just like to get ready early so I can go for a quick run.”

“Ah, okay. Have fun,” you mumbled before she left the room, leaving you to drag yourself around the room to get ready. You heard a knock at the door and went to open it, assuming it was Eunha forgetting her keys. Your eyes narrowed when you saw who it was. “Jaehyun?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His voice was somewhere between a pant and a rasp as if he had been working out, which he probably was judging by the sheen of sweat on his biceps.

“Were you waiting for Eunha to leave?” you asked. “You’re disgusting. Why would you think about me?”

“I was thinking about how much of a bitch you are for running away and letting me get in trouble like that.”

“Pity.” You mocked a pout for him. “Now move. I have to get ready.”

“Let me in.”

You made a face at the thought. You knew where he was going with this and you needed to stop it. “No. You’re disgusting.”

“You liked it last night.”

His eyes searched yours in the dim light, looking for something that unfortunately was there: longing. You were never the greatest at hiding your emotions, which was why you couldn’t lie to yourself and refuse Jaehyun. Screw your transparency. Jaehyun grinned at your silence and took a step in your room when you opened your door wider for him.

You closed the door. “I hated every second of it,” you said in a childish attempt to get on his nerves.

You were a terrible liar.

Your back was against the door in a second. You could only let out a soft gasp before he kissed you, hands on your waist, slowing his movements unlike the hurriedness from last night. It was foreign, the way he kissed you like you were the only girl he saw. You pulled away quickly but it just left the both of you staring at each other’s lips.

“You sure about that?” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you warned in a low voice, “I still hate your guts.”

“As I’m reminded of every single time I see you,” he returned coolly.

“Fuck off.”

This time, you pulled him down to kiss him again. You fisted your hand into his hair, tugging at his dark locks as your lips moved smoothly against his. Caught off guard, Jaehyun groaned, low and deep against your lips.

The two of you separated again before Jaehyun said, “See? I know you want me. Only I can make you feel this good, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”

Jaehyun’s eyes darkened at the challenge. To prove his point, he pushed his knee up and between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt. A gasp escaped your lips, the fingers curled in his hair instinctively tightening. You bit your lip but to no avail; a whimper escaped your lips as soon as he started pulsing his knee against you. You grabbed onto his shoulders for leverage, burying your face into his chest while bunching up the thin fabric of his shirt.

You wanted to hold back your moans because you were adamant about not giving Jeong Jaehyun the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Instead, you shifted your hips so that the pressure of his knee became more intense. Sparks flew behind your eyelids as he bounced his knee under you.

He finally released the tight grip he had on your waist in favor of palming one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly through your shirt and bra. All the while, he continued ramming his knee against the apex of your legs. He kept his eyes on yours and you scowled at the thought of him getting off on seeing you crumble in front of him. But you couldn’t stop yourself. He wanted to completely and utterly ruin you, wanted to fuck you in and shut you up.

The worst part was that you wanted to let him.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” he mused, slowly rubbing his knee in circles against you. “God, you’re still wearing that fucking tank top.”

“You’re such a—ah!”

He groped your chest again, thumb pressing down on your nipple. Another whimper escaped you as Jaehyun grazed his lips down your neck, nipping at the supple skin. You only got louder as the kisses turned into bites.

He ignored you and removed his hand. Instead, he tugged the neckline of your tank top down, delighted at the loose straps sliding down your shoulders. He yanked it down to your waist so you were exposed to him, and you swore you heard his breath hitch. Jaehyun pinched your nipple with two fingers, drawing out a moan that drove him crazy. He buried his face into your neck, sucking and making you quiver under him.

“Didn’t you say I had small tits earlier?” you jeered, a teasing lilt to your tone.

“Yeah, I still stand by that,” he replied, resulting in you punching his shoulder.

“Asshole.”

“Hey, I never said it wasn’t cute.”

“You’re such a softie,” you grumbled, but your voice was gentler than before. It was almost like you were warming up to Jeong Jaehyun, and you hated the mere thought of that.

Jaehyun pulled away from your neck. “Y/N, I want you to suck me off,” he demanded.

“I refuse.”

“Be a good girl and do it for me.”

You swore you’d go crazy if he called you ‘good girl’ one more time. You were pretty revolted at the thought of sucking his dick, but the way he looked so fragile under your hold made you want to do it for the power rush. It was like some cheap porno in a way; ‘College Jock Gets Sucked Off By Cheerleader.’ You bet half the members on the team beat their meat to something similar to that.

Your shoulders sagged. “Fine. Get on the bed.”

Jaehyun groaned at your approval. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, letting go of you to pull down his sweats on his way to your bed. He sat at the edge of it, tugging the elastic of his boxers down. You swallowed hard, tugging your tank top back up as you stared at his painfully hard erection springing out.

You got on your knees in front of him, lips parted in anticipation of taking in his length. Your hair fell over your face, which Jaehyun took notice of and held it back in a fist. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around his cock. It was rock solid to the touch and twitched at your grip. Glancing up at an eager Jaehyun, you pumped the length of it once, inciting a groan from him.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, rousing a strangled noise from his throat. He looked down at you through half-lidded eyes, messy strands of your hair tangling in his fingers while his other hand was gripping the stiff hotel sheets. Then, you took him in fully at his encouragement (which was more of him just grabbing the back of your head and pushing it down on his cock).

“Shit,” he breathed out before slowly moving his hips in and out of your mouth. It was like iron wrapped around velvet, and he was relishing how hot your mouth felt.

He pushed your head down further and right as you gagged on his length, there was a knock at the door.

“Y/N!” Mark’s voice sounded from the other side. “Are you coming for breakfast?”

You pulled off of him with a pop, a string of saliva dripping off your lips. Your eyes were wide as you lunged for your phone, checking the texts. Meanwhile, Jaehyun just frowned down at you, looking up at the ceiling with a frustrated sigh.

“Holy fuck,” you muttered when you looked at the time. You called out to Mark, “Give me a minute!”

“Perfect,” Jaehyun said in a low voice and held the back of your head, attempting to push you down on him. “We can finish up now.”

“Are you an idiot?” you hissed, swatting at his hand. “I have to get out of here before Mark finds out you’re in here.”

Ignoring your state of panic, Jaehyun said, “You look so hot with drool on your chin.”

That was the most disgusting thing you had ever heard, and if it weren’t for Mark being on the other side of the door where you and Jaehyun were screwing around, you would have beat the living daylights out of him. Only a creep like Jeong Jaehyun could find something like drool sexy. You scowled at him and wiped it off with the back of your hand.

“Put your dick away,” you scolded. “Hide in the closet and you can leave when I’m gone.”

He rolled his eyes at you and stood up, making his way to the bathroom. “I need to get rid of the problem you caused.”

You had no time to complain about him jerking off in your bathroom. Mark was not a very patient man, so as soon as Jaehyun closed the door behind him, you stripped off your pajamas and threw on whatever was at the top of your suitcase. You brushed your teeth at the speed of light, using your other hand to brush down your hair. After you laced up your shoes, you opened the door to Mark looking at you suspiciously.

“You’re never late,” he pointed out.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” you said. In your defense, it wasn’t a complete lie.

“Oh, by the way,” Mark started, “can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“No!” you exclaimed, pushing him away from your room and in the direction of the elevator. “My roommate, um, is… on her period—yeah, you don’t want to see that mess.”

Another reason why you hated Jeong Jaehyun was for giving you reasons to lie when you were a terrible liar.

Training was long and grueling. Your bones were mush and your muscles ached, pins and needles shooting through you every time you moved. As your teammates dragged you to get dinner with them, you couldn’t even resist because you were so drained.

The one thing you loved about training was that you could wear whatever you wanted, whereas you were confined to tight skirts and crop tops at your university. Now, you could rest in whatever position you wanted without worrying about exposing anything, so you didn’t hesitate to manspread as soon as you got to the cafeteria table.

“Did you guys hear about Jaehyun from the other school?” one of the girls gossiped. “Looks like he was fooling around with someone last night.”

You were grounded back into reality from whatever dimension you were floating about in. Your teammates were perplexed as you choked on air, hitting your chest to stop yourself from coughing. You were handed a glass of water, which you gingerly accepted and drank until your body had calmed down.

“Ah, sorry, Y/N,” your teammate apologized. “I forgot you and Jaehyun have bad blood between you.”

“You’re good,” you told her, waving it off. “I was surprised for a second, but I guess it makes sense for a guy like him to go around hooking up.” Then, silence fell. You were confused as they all looked at you with a puzzled look. “What? Am I stereotyping too harshly? My bad.”

“No, it’s not that,” another chimed in. “A lot of girls go around hitting on him, but Jaehyun never lays a hand on them. I thought it was common knowledge that he doesn’t do that sort of stuff, but I guess it makes sense that you don’t care about the details.”

That was news to you.

“Yeah,” you replied distantly. “I don’t care.”

So Jaehyun doesn’t hook up, was what you happened to hear around the grapevine, and he most definitely doesn’t hook up with his enemies.

You stood up in the middle of your dinner. “I gotta go,” you said. “I’ll see you girls tomorrow.”

You actually weren’t very sure where Jaehyun was, but you figured if you walked around enough, you’d run into him or someone from his team. You headed out of the canteen and walked to the basketball courts, expecting to see him dribbling a bar or doing reps. But the first person you saw was Na Jaemin, and he noticed you immediately, eyes sparkling with recognition.

“Y/N!” he greeted cheerfully. “It’s been so long.”

That infectious smile of his was plastered across his face, making a small one creep to your lips. If Jaehyun smiled like that more, then you could understand his charm, but he was always so moody around you. He either did something to get on your nerves or he would just flat-out ignore you. Furthermore, he always riled you up instead of offering you that warm security that Jaemin emanated—

Wait, why were you comparing him to Jaehyun?

“Sorry,” you apologized meekly. “Am I interrupting your practice time?”

“No, it’s cool. We were just messing around in here,” Jaemin replied. “Are you looking for someone?”

You looked into Jaemin’s eyes and your thoughts slowed. He made you feel safe, warm, but that was all; there was no fire, no rage, no heat. It was just a shallow attraction that fizzled out, leaving you neither satisfied nor dissatisfied. And you clawed at your brain as you wondered what you were getting at, but you knew. You knew it was all going back to Jaehyun.

And it pissed you off.

“I was looking for Jaehyun,” you said, “if he happened to be in here.”

“He told me he was going for a swim,” Jaemin said, and that was all you needed.

Before Jaemin could respond, you thanked him and turned on your heel. The pool was in a separate building, and there was no training that even required swimming, so it made no sense for Jaehyun to be there. You let out a frustrated sigh. Even when he wasn’t doing anything in particular to annoy you, it still managed to anger you.

You weren’t going to let Jaehyun do what he wanted this time. This was merely for interrogation—your own personal gain. Then, you thought it over some more, and you reasonably concluded that there was a 97.5% chance that you would not lay a finger on him, but there was a 2.5% chance you’d cave.

When you got to the facility where the pool was, you were entranced by the renovation at first. The pool was massive and the equipment was lined up so neatly along the walls. You peered through the glass to see the pool completely empty save for Jaehyun in the hot tub.

He met your eyes while you opened the door to the pool. His eyebrow arched at your entrance but a smirk settled on his lips as you neared him. You tried to push down your lust; you were not letting him get to you again. You crouched down by the side of the pool and Jaehyun moved so he was facing you, holding onto the edge of the hot tub.

“What brings you here?’ he asked, playfully flicking some water in your direction.

You flinched and scrunched up your nose at his action. “I heard you don’t do hookups.”

“You heard correctly.”

“So what am I?”

“You’re Y/N.”

You were a coward. Admittedly, you had probably always been running away from your own problems, deflecting your feelings with unbridled hate that had no direction, no meaning. Underneath your blunt and fiery front was pure cowardice. Even now, you refused to admit anything to yourself.

You didn’t want to accept that maybe you actually liked Jeong Jaehyun.

Maybe you’ve always liked him.

“Don’t be stupid, Jaehyun,” you grumbled. “You’ve always hated me.”

“I think you just want to believe I hate you. Is that how you suppress your feelings?”

“How long have you liked me for, then? Days?”

“Years.”

You paused for a moment as you recounted your interactions with Jaehyun. It was true that he never explicitly said he hated you and that you always started the arguments, but he was the one who broke off your friendship. Why would he do that if he didn’t hate you?

“You said you wanted nothing to do with me, Jaehyun,” you said in a smaller voice, fist balling at your side.

“You were going to a different university.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, and although you were angry, it was difficult not to enjoy the view. “Plus, you just kept going on and on about Jaemin, and I couldn’t even shut that mouth of yours up back then.”

“So you cut me off?”

“I felt like I was being petty, so I tried to apologize but you blocked my number and wouldn’t let me come near you,” Jaehyun deadpanned. He reached forward and grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to him. You teetered on the balls of your feet, swallowing hard. “Forgive me?”

“No.”

Jaehyun rose up a little so he was eye-to-eye with you. He smiled at your flustered expression and cupped your cheek with his wet hand. Every muscle in your body was telling you to pull away but you couldn’t. Not when his lips were so close, when his eyes were boring into yours.

“Forgive me,” he repeated in a gentler tone, but it became more of an order than a question.

“Make me,” you whispered and Jaehyun groaned, somewhat helplessly.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

You opened your mouth to say something more, but you couldn’t even form your words as Jaehyun yanked you forward and sealed your lips with a kiss. Before, you had the sense to try and push him away, but now you were held captive. He slid his tongue past your lips and you let out an appreciative whimper, hand sliding into his wet hair. You tugged at his hair and this time, Jaehyun was the one to react.

He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, eyes clouding over with lust. “Get in with me,” he said, voice rumbling. You shivered as he dragged his lips down to your jaw; you could feel his voice reverberate down your spine and to your feet.

“What if someone walks in?” you asked in a daze.

“There’s no use for the swim facility, so no one’s going to walk in on us,” he persuaded. “Come in.”

Water dripped from his neck, landing on your thigh. You took in a sharp breath as his hand tugged at your waist. While the pleading look on his face was priceless, you couldn’t even ridicule him because you were at your limit, too. You let out an irritated sigh when you realized you gave into that 2.5% of you caving.

You responded by pulling off your shirt, tossing it to the side where Jaehyun had left his shoes and towel. Jaehyun watched you as you fiddled with the clamp of your bra. Meanwhile, his hands went to the waistband of your sweats, making you shudder as he tugged them down at the sides. You raised your hips to help him get them off and, after removing your bra, you were only left in your underwear to protect you from his hungry gaze.

You weren’t the type to hook up with guys. Hell, you weren’t the type to even show a guy your ankle if he asked. You thought you’d feel insecure with Jaehyun eyeing you in your full glory, but there was none of that. You wanted to know why it was so different with him but maybe it was the way he looked at you like he just wanted to kiss you. Or maybe a tiny part of your heart always belonged to Jaehyun, and you couldn’t bury it anymore.

“You’re so gorgeous.”

He mumbled the words, barely audible, but they set you on fire. He pulled you down onto his lap like you were his anchor, and you were afraid you’d get swept with the current, but you let him. You’ve only ever kissed a few guys before, so you really had no idea what the fuck you were getting into. All you were sure about was that Jaehyun could make you feel good and you were having your first time in a hot tub. You only prayed that you wouldn’t pass out from the pleasure combined with the heat of the water.

“Is this your first time?” he asked, gliding his hands down your sides. You nodded. “Then I’ll be gentle.” Truly, you did find his gesture rather sweet, but it didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes. Jaheyun saw and narrowed his brows. “I don’t hate you, but you really piss me off sometimes.”

He kissed you again. It was more passionate this time, but also harsher and messier. You let out a sound that was something between a yelp and a moan, making Jaehyun move his hands to run down your bare back. Then, he planted his thumb on your clit and pressed down in a way that made a muscle in your thigh twitch. Your grip on his shoulders tightened; you weren’t expecting that. It felt different in the water, but somehow, you couldn’t get enough of it.

“You’re wet,” he mumbled against your lips as his fingers found purchase on your slit.

“We’re in the water, you idiot.”

Jaehyun scoffed. “You know what, Y/N, you’re right, I did hate you,” he spat, rubbing small circles around your clit now. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself, whimpering as his movements grew more intense. “I fucking hated how you looked at Jaemin with those love-struck eyes.”

There was a shift in his usual cocky expression. He turned focused and, to a degree, angry. It was the kind of look on his face you saw when he was on the basketball court or during a game.

“You’re the one who told me to go after him.”

Wrong choice of words. Jaehyun lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the pool, pushing a finger inside you with no warning. You gasped, your mouth open to ask him why he took you out of the water, but you already knew the answer; he wanted to feel you completely.

“R-right there,” you whimpered out as he pushed his finger deeper inside of you.

He started to curl his finger whenever he passed over your g-spot, and you had to close your eyes. Jaehyun pulled his finger out to marvel at the slick wetness that coated it. Your body tingled as he slid his finger inside you again. This time, he was teasing your slit with a second digit. Jaehyun had no delicacy, though, and he all but shoved in a second finger, causing you to cry out.

He didn’t even care. You opened your mouth to call him a bastard, but all that came out was a pitched moan that seemed to float up to the stars.

“I fucking hated,” he rasped as he pumped two fingers inside of you, “how you treated Jaemin like he was the only one in the world.”

“I don’t… like Jaemin,” you got out, each labored breath of yours fighting off another moan. “I’ve stopped liking Jaemin after high school.”

Jaehyun’s free hand went to your chest, cupping one of your breasts as he rubbed circles around your nipple. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, unable to contain yourself as the fingers on your clit got almost frantic in their place, and the fingers inside of you were pushing against your walls. You felt an unfamiliar cold fire that felt so fucking good, lighting you up and threatening to spill over. Your muscles clenched and spasmed around Jaehyun, and you weren’t even in the hot tub but you felt like you were sinking.

A high-pitched moan left your lips, leaving you hot with embarrassment because you didn’t know you could make a sound like that. You fell from your peak, relaxing in Jaehyun’s hold; it felt like you were floating amongst the clouds in an almost euphoric way.

“I don’t like Jaemin,” you breathed out, still winded from your orgasm, “you fucking idiot.”

“I know.” Jaehyun pulled his fingers out of you, eyes trained on you as he licked them slowly. The look on his face was more gentle now. With his free hand, he brushed loose strands of your hair out of your face. “You like me now.”

“No, I’ve loved you for a while now.” You didn’t know what possessed you to say what was on your mind, but it surprised you more than it surprised Jaehyun. “I didn’t realize it then but… I think I did.”

Love? Love?

You thought you knew what love was. Something that you felt in your bones, that burst within you instantly. Simple glances, thoughts, and daydreams—something gentle and fluffy, but also emotionally shattering. You thought it was tender smiles, kind words, and little gestures.

But maybe that was the kind of love that led to puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and hoarse voices. The kind of love that was left fruitless with an empty gap in your chest.

Maybe this was different.

It was instinctive, the way you fell for him. Like an effortless intake of breath, you were in love before you even knew it. You always thought love was a monster. Ravaging, scraping, foul monsters with jaws so immeasurably large that they would have swallowed you whole. But maybe it wasn’t the tragedy you made it out to be.

With Jaehyun it was fierce and maddening and made you want to rip your hair out. It was a violent hurricane that you tried to brave your way through. But you were blind. You were already at the eye; you had always been at the center without realizing it. And, despite all the pointless arguments and name-calling, it was the most beautiful thing you had experienced.

Yeah, you liked him. You liked how you were around him, despite how much you complained about it to Mark. Part of you refused to admit it, but sometimes the bickering was fun. You realized that you never let go of Jaehyun before because you couldn’t. You simply didn’t want to be without him because Jeong Jaehyun drove a deeper passion within you.

Your rose-tinted loving moment was ruined as soon as a shit-eating grin spread across Jaehyun’s face.

“You love me.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“You love me,” Jaehyun echoed as if he was internalizing the information. “You love me.”

“I take it back,” you said flatly. “I hate you, I hate you, and I’ve always hated you.”

Jaehyun ignored your words, his cockiness morphing into adoration. “You actually love me back.” He cupped your face in his hands, eyes turning into little crescents as he smiled. “Even though I called you a cougar for liking a guy a year younger than you?”

“Yes.”

“Even though I made fun of you wearing a push-up bra in front of him?”

You clenched your jaw. “Yes.”

“Even though I asked Johnny about you and he told me that I still live in your mind, rent-free?”

“What? Johnny said that?” you exclaimed, eyes wide. You grimaced. Johnny would be dealt with later. You placed your hands on Jaehyun’s shoulders and made direct eye contact. “Look, Jaehyun—as much as it hurts me to say this and I’d rather tear out my vocal cords—I like you. I like you so much that I don’t care about the petty shit you pulled when I liked Jaemin because frankly, I don’t care about Jaemin anymore.”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You wanted to slap him.

“Are you just constantly horny?” you snapped. “I’m pouring out my feelings to you here!”

“I’m better at expressing my love through actions, not words,” Jaehyun explained. “Can I show you?”

“Is this another ploy to get in my pants?”

“No, I’m asking you out on a date,” he said. “Sneak out with me tonight. I want to explore the city with you.”

The offer was tempting. In fact, you found no reason to be opposed to the idea. After all, you were always down for an adventure in the city. Jaehyun being with you didn’t sound too bad either, especially when Seoul was so lively at night. Part of you wanted it purely to catch up on all the time you missed when you stopped being friends.

“Fine,” you agreed. “An hour after curfew.”

“Great.” Jaehyun flashed a grin that slowly curled into a smirk. “Now let me get in your pants.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Y/N, you see,” Jaehyun started, “I don’t hate you, but you’ve really pissed me off these past two years. We have all of this pent-up rage, so it’s only fair that we let it out on each other.” His grip on your hips tightened.

You loathed yourself for wanting him, and for putting aside the fear of being walked in on for him. You internally cringed at the thought of Mark accidentally bearing witness, and you weren’t sure you were willing to explain the situation to him just yet.

It was the price you paid for carnality, you supposed.

You sighed in a forced way so that you sounded reluctant and bored. Unfortunately, your plan backfired and you ended up feeling bad when a concerned look crossed Jaehyun’s face.

“If you’re worried about getting caught, I’ll just cover you,” Jaehyun mumbled, the softness of his voice almost putting you at ease.

You rolled your eyes. “How kind of you.” You paused and looked up at him. “Are we really going to have sex for the first time here?”

Jaehyun looked around him. “Well, I guess we could go to the hotel room if—”

“Nope!” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you. “Let’s do it here. I love the pool, love having sex at the pool.”

He rose a brow at you, hands making their way down your body. Suddenly, your realization of being completely exposed had heightened, and you pressed your thighs together. Maybe it was because your vulnerability showed on your face, clear as day, but Jaehyun smirked, further flustering you by tugging down his swim shorts to reveal his hardened cock.

It was heavy and warm against your thigh, but what you were fixed on was the v-line on his pelvis. You traced along the bone, making him shiver under your touch. You were shocked when he grabbed your wrist tightly, holding it away from him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here,” he growled. Jaehyun leaned closer and nipped at the shell of your earlobe, chuckling as you tensed up under his hold. His hot breath made you squirm under his grip.

Have you ever noticed how insanely attractive he was? Yes, of course. You weren’t an idiot.

Have you ever appreciated his beauty until now? Probably not.

“Just fuck me already, Jae,” you grumbled out as he pushed you down onto the deck of the pool.

In seconds, Jaehyun grabbed your hips and pulled them to his waist. Without any preamble, he rammed himself inside of you. The motion caught you by surprise and you cried out, half out of pleasure and half out of pain. You were definitely wet from being fingered earlier, but two fingers were nothing compared to Jaehyun’s cock.

Seeing his cock disappear in you was enough to make you whimper. Your walls clenched around him, pulsating at the foreign feeling. You were tempted to slap him upside the head for going so fast, but all you could do was tug at his hair and wrap your legs around him.

“You bastard, I’ll fucking—oh.”

Jaehyun laughed cruelly at your reaction, partly to cover up the groan caught in his throat and partly because your attempts at being mad at him were downright pathetic. When you had adjusted to his size, Jaehyun grunted and pounded in you, hitting spots that made your limbs feel like jelly. As if that wasn’t enough, Jaehyun found your clit with the hand that didn’t have a bruising grip on your waist and pressed harshly against it.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jaehyun gritted out.

“T-then be gentle,” you bargained, drowning in a molten sea.

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes at you. “Have you ever fucking heard of gentle hate sex?” he asked, validating his point with a particularly hard thrust.

Your fingernails dug into his back, leaving hot-white trails down his skin. You were certain you had drawn blood, but knowing Jaehyun, he’d probably feel proud if he saw it. He brought his lips to your neck as you writhed under him, biting around until he found your sweet spot. This wasn’t fair; he was pleasuring you in every way possible and all you could do was cry out as he pummeled in you.

You closed your eyes, sparks flying behind your eyelids as you felt your release rushing to you.

Then, he slowed his strokes down considerably.

“Look at me,” he ordered in a rasp. Your eyes fluttered open, remaining half-lidded as you felt like you were going to spill over. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

He slapped his hips against yours again, the sound of skin against skin making you shudder. Jaehyun filled you up to the brim and you were oh-so-close to letting go and falling off the edge. The hardscape was cool but you were on fire, bliss overtaking all of your senses. Your toes curled as you held onto his damp skin for dear life, not sure if it was because he was in the pool or he was sweating due to the heat you both emanated.

“R-right there!”  you wailed. “Fuck, right there!”

Jaehyun angled his hips slightly to pound into you, causing you to see metaphysical stars. It was so hard to keep eye contact with him when your eyes just wanted to roll back. Jaehyun let out a groan by your ear, low and guttural. You didn’t even notice how tight the grip he has on you until he releases your hip for you to see the print he left.

You could tell he was close, but he wanted to hold on for you. Both of your breaths were labored as you stared into each other’s eyes, your body moving up and down against the hardscape as Jaehyun railed you. You tightened your grip on him, a pathetic moan falling from your lips as you were falling over the edge.

Jaehyun understood and fucked you through your orgasm, making sure you made the most of it. Warmth blossomed under your skin as you cried out in pure bliss, your vision blurring and refocusing as it flickered from normal to pure white as you rode out your high. You ground yourself back to reality after nearly sobbing out his name, the pleasure overwhelming you. Jaehyun’s eyes went hazy as he fell apart right after you did, and soon, you felt something warm spill inside of you.

Jaehyun finished inside of you and stuttered out a curse as he pulled out of you. He rolled over and laid on the deck of the pool next to you, the both of you catching your breath like you had just run a marathon.

“I have a cute date idea for tonight,” Jaehyun said after a long pause.

You looked over, watching his chest rise and fall. “Yeah?”

“We go to the store and buy Plan B.”

You couldn’t even disagree.

“Sounds good.”

Jaehyun dragged himself off the floor, muttering something along the lines of “shit, that felt good” to himself as he reached for his swim trunks to pull back on. You grabbed a towel to dry yourself off, but pins and needles shot up your legs when you tried to walk. Jaehyun noticed immediately and a smug look settled on his face again, not the least bit remorseful.

You scowled as you slipped your clothes back on. “Shut up,” you jeered. “You’re so shameless for someone who can’t pull out.”

“Oops,” he replied flatly.

“I hate you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a laugh as he shook his head. He picked up another towel from the chairs by the poolside and wrapped it around so it covered your head. You bit your lip as you watched him attempt to dry your hair. It was times like these when he seemed so gentle and delicate, unlike his usual irritating attitude.

“You liked it, though,” Jaehyun said. “Right?”

You faltered, looking down at your feet as he continued to dry your hair. “Yeah.”

Jaehyun smiled softly and leaned in swiftly to peck your lips, but your moment was interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

Mark was gaping at you two, eyelids fluttering rapidly as if he was trying to blink away what he had just seen.

“Y/N? Jeong Jaehyun?” Mark questioned, his voice an octave higher than usual. Realization crossed his face through a series of facial expressions that morphed far too quickly for you to process. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Mark!” You and Jaehyun pulled away from each other quickly.

Mark paused to think his words through. “Did I almost walk in on a murder?”

You let out a frustrated groan. “Jesus, Mark, if you’re not going to read the room, at least SparkNote it.”

“Wait, so you were kissing?”

“No, we didn’t kiss,” Jaehyun assured, and you felt tricked for feeling relieved for a split second. “We actually had sex.”

Jaehyun’s words ended with a splutter as you elbowed him in the gut. Mark looked between the two of you, boggled. You nudged Jaehyun again with your foot, signaling for him to leave so you could handle Mark. Thankfully, he took your cue this time and grabbed his towel, mockingly saluting the both of you. You were stupid to think you were safe, though, because Jaehyun had to get another last word in before he walked off.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

There was a long, awkward pause while Jaehyun opened the door and left the building. You and Mark were staring at each other but neither of you knew what to say or how to approach the subject.

“I just… I just came here to find you, and Jaemin told me you went to the pool. You…” Mark started. He looked absolutely horrified, like a corpse had fallen to his feet—no, rather, he looked like a corpse himself, like someone attempted to do taxidermy on him but did a shit job. “Bitch.”

“Let me explain.”

“Bitch,” Mark enunciated, “you just fucked the hottest guy here, oh my god.”

Definitely not the reaction you were expecting, but you supposed it wasn’t a bad one. You were glad he wasn’t getting into the whole ‘why didn’t you tell me? I’m your best friend’ rant, but this was equally as overwhelming.

Mark continued, “Wait—is that why you were late this morning? Oh my god, this has been a thing. You’ve been hooking up with him in secret, haven’t you?”

“No? Well, yes, but it hasn’t been much until, um”—you gestured awkwardly around you—“you know.”

“So you were the one who was with Jaehyun last night?”

“Yes.”

“And this morning before I picked you up?”

“Yes.”

“Are you two dating now?”

“Honestly, I really don't know,” you admitted. “Mark, please don’t tell anyone about this. Especially not those little shits, Chenle and Johnny.”

Mark gulped. “About that…”

Before you could question him, there was a chorus of loud clapping echoing from the locker rooms which was then followed by a few cheers. You grimaced as the two boys you didn’t want to see walked out: Chenle and Johnny, Tweedledee and Tweedledum themselves. They both wore cocky smirks as they shook their head at you, which made Mark a touch more nervous than he was before.

“Have anything to say for yourself, Y/N?” Chenle teased.

“Go to hell.” You scoffed and turned to Mark, narrowing in on him. “Why’d you bring them along? What are you? The three stooges?”

“We were looking for you so we could invite you to the movie night we were having in Jungwoo’s room!” Mark defended. “I swear, if I knew about you and Jaehyun, I never would’ve brought them along.”

You sighed deeply as Chenle snickered to himself. “Well, I guess Y/N can’t come to movie night since she has a date with—hold on, what did you call him again? The devil?”

“Okay, I get it!” You threw your hands up in defeat, eyes closed to show you were reflecting upon your actions. “I’m a dirty hypocrite and I’ve committed a crime worse than death.” You opened your eyes again. “I’m sorry.” To your surprise, Chenle and Johnny had their right hand up. You stared at it, puzzled. “Do you want me to make an oath or something?”

“In modern society,” Johnny explained, “we call it a high-five.”

It took you a few seconds to process their words before you tentatively gave them each a firm high-five. You blinked up at them before ease washed over you. This was how it always was, anyways. At the end of the day, no matter how much you guys bickered or teased each other, you always made up. That's what friends were for, after all.

“There we go,” you said, oddly satisfied. “For now, I’ll let go of the fact that Johnny snitched on me to Jaehyun behind my back.”

“How dare you!” Johnny gasped. “Chenle was with me.”

Chenle raised his hand to confirm the statement. “Indeed. Please give credit where it's due.”

“Alright, fuck you both.”

What the fuck even was a date?

This was foreign territory to you, but even so, you decided you wouldn’t rely on your annoying friends. First of all, you were sure they wouldn’t really be of any help and just endlessly tease you about it. Secondly, they were simply going to gradually grow more stressed (Mark), lecherous (Johnny), and aggravating (Chenle). Thus, you decided to slay the monster of first dates yourself.

Your first hurdle was looking cute. You packed absolutely nothing that wasn’t for the training camp, so you had already failed. Jaehyun was going to have to deal with you in your gym shorts and a school t-shirt.

Your second hurdle was sneaking away from Eunha, your roommate. That was a piece of cake considering how she didn’t exactly care. When you headed out of the room, wallet and phone in hand, she wished you a kind farewell, which you returned.

Your third hurdle was sneaking out of the hotel. You weren’t quite sure how you and Jaehyun made it outside without being spotted, but you were certain he must have tipped off some of the staff because there was no way the both of you could have walked straight out of the lobby without being reported. When you asked him, though, he said it was probably because you looked like the cleaning lady.

Needless to say, Jaehyun was on thin ice.

You loved Seoul, loved the dirty of it. Even at night, the city was alive and full of vigor, full of young people like you who were chasing cheap thrills. Jaehyun was a dream under the glowing lights, and you almost couldn’t believe that the prince-like boy was head-over-heels for you.

He took you to a wide alley with a night market, full of life and energy. Jaehyun was walking through the crowd and you were following right behind him, like some awkward fish swimming after a cuter, more popular fish upstream. There were several times where you almost lost yourself in the crowd, and Jaehyun noticed this. He reached behind him, still shouldering his way through the crowd, and grabbed your hand. The smell of spicy rice cakes, the numerous pop-up bars lining the alley, and Jeong Jaehyun gripping your hand—it all made a pretty eventful first date.

Jaehyun didn’t kiss you. Not once. He didn’t try to touch you anywhere that would have tempted you both into doing something you definitely shouldn’t do in public. There were times where Jaehyun turned pink or looked away from you shyly, and you indulged in it because this was a side of him you didn’t see often.

Jaehyun stopped at a convenience store before you both decided to head back. You waited outside for him, kicking stones as you thought of him. He was undeniably perfect, which you somewhat despised because you had spent the last two years hating his guts and this was an abrupt change. You were worried if he was buying you something; he had already bought you lamb skewers and rice cakes at the night market. You didn’t want to be the girlfriend to empty his wallet.

Wait—

Were you his girlfriend?

“Y/N,” he called when he walked out of the store, holding something behind his back with a sneaky grin. “Close your eyes.”

You bit back a smile and closed your eyes, holding your hands out. He placed the object in your hands and it felt light, so you were sure it shouldn’t have cost much. Although, your stomach was pitted with guilt at the thought of him spending money on you. You opened your eyes when he directed you to.

Plan B One-Step.

You no longer felt bad for him.

“Very romantic,” you observed, putting the packet in your wallet, “but thank you.”

You were seething. Your face grew unconditionally hot and you had to look down at your feet. It seriously pissed you off that your feelings were so clear right now because Jaehyun had bought you fucking Plan B.

Jaehyun seemed to notice right away and tilted your chin up with two fingers, chuckling. “Is something wrong?”

Your face screwed up when you decided on what you were going to ask him. “Are we dating?” you blurted out.

Jaehyun held your face gently like it would shatter if he applied any more pressure. His fingertips grazed the hinge of your jaw while his thumbs rested on your cheekbones. You were panicking when he leaned in, but it wasn’t what you expected. Jaehyun pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, grinning at your reaction. You reached up to trace his dimple with your finger.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, flustered beyond imagination, but you had already gotten this far so you continued, “do you?”

“Do I want to be your girlfriend?”

You wanted to hit yourself. “Fuck. I mean, do you wanna date me?”

“Of course,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

He drew you into his warm embrace and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how you hated this man for so long. Of course, when those cocky smirks and impish looks came back, you were sure you’d remember again. But right now, in his arms, you just knew that you wanted to be with him. You looked up at him, arms slung around him, and got on your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

You were positive you hadn’t ever seen Jeong Jaehyun blush before tonight, but it was a sight you were sure you could never get sick of.

And you never would.

[waywardsummoner46]

Victorian Vexation

Sam Winchester x sister!reader, Dean Winchester x sister!reader

@spnaubingo​ square filled: Victorian!AU

Summary: Waking up, you find yourself in a room you don’t recognise and with people trying to force feed some amber “medicine” down your throat. Who are these people? Where are you? And why do these Sam and Dean lookalikes keep saying the just want their sister back?

A/N: Lesson learnt - I suck at summaries but I promise that the fic is more interesting than the summary... maybe even another series idea oops. Anyway, enjoy :)

________________________________________________________

Waking up, you instantly had a headache. A very obnoxious one at that. Reminds you of when Dean started to mock Sam in a really high-pitched voice not noticing that it was pissing you off as well (but it’s okay, because he had what was coming to him).

  Caught in a memory, with your eyes still clothed, you didn’t notice that a small, slender woman had slipped through your door. Still replaying the memory repeatedly in your head, you exhaled slowly. When a stuttered voice spoke up, you nearly jumped out of your bed.

  “Oh I’m so sorry my lady, I didn’t mean to wake you! I just came to deliver your clothes for the day… and to wait to help you get changed, and to administer your medicine” the lady practically blabbered whilst silently shaking and dropping into a bow.

  You were going to respond with an angry and confused tone but then you took notice of your surroundings. This is not your room. It seemed to be double the size of your old room, the furniture was mahogany but looked quite old-fashioned and specifically designed to make the room appear bigger than it seemed. 

   A mere fireplace was placed to your left, it was quite tall and wide, but lacked the modern feel and the carpet was a disgustingly flowery-patterned one to which you abruptly looked away from. Doing so laned your focus on your bed. It was huge! The headboard itself was about a metre tall with an intricate and flowy pattern but the bedding nearly made you gag. Take a stereotypical grandmother’s nightgown right? Yeah that’s the only connection you could make.

  Realizing the woman, probably mid-twenties, was still hunched over in a shaky bow, you finally addressed someone who was capable of having an intelligent conversation. You propped yourself up against the head-board searching for the gun you kept under your pillow but coming up empty handed.

  “Who are you? Where am I?” You demand. She straightens up and glances at you confusedly, before understanding seems to fall like a curtain over her face. Trying to be discreet, she reaches slowly behind her back for a table you only just noticed for something that looked like a glass jar of amber liquid.

  Calmly she explained, “Miss Winchester, you haven’t had your meds yet, I forgot the spoon for it, stay where you are please miss.” Which obviously prompted more confusion on your part, so watching her leave the room and closing the door behind her, you sat silently with your mouth agape.

  Once you were sure she was out of earshot, you jumped out of bed and went about trying to sneak your way through whatever captivity you were in. Arriving at the door, you tried the handle to find the crazy lady had locked the door! You let out a groan but remembering she reached for that vial of “medicine”. So you went over to investigate it, it read:

(Y/N) Winchester’s medicine.

To be given twice a day, one before getting out of bed and another before going to sleep.

Do not forget a dose!

Caution: Only to be consumed by her. No one else is to consume the substance.

  Now even more confused, you hid the vial in your pyjama pocket (thanking whoever had mercy on you that let you keep them at least) for later because something was definitely giving you a witch’s vibe about this.

  All of a sudden, you heard multiple pairs of footsteps seemingly approaching your room. You hid behind the door and grasped the candlestick that was also on the table to use as a weapon. They came to a stop just outside the door and you heard faint mumbling, “Thank you for coming to get us, Lilith. It was a good decision but you’re dismissed now. My brother and I will give our sister her medicine.”  You made out a light pair of footsteps get more distant as they left after a few seconds but all you could think of was Sam and Dean? What the hell?

    Unprepared for the door opening, you were temporarily stunned out of shock before coming back to your senses and deciding ‘Well hey, they’re most likely not my brothers so what the hell? Might as well whack ‘em’ but that motivation was short lived as two poshly dressed Winchesters barged through the door and immediately pinpointed your location.

   Dean went to grab you, so you swung the candlestick at him but he evaded it with inhuman speed and grabbed your hand and brought it behind your back. He reached out for your other hand and grasped with ease no matter how hard you struggled.

  With both hands behind your back, you decided aiming for his crotch with your heel might be a good idea but Sam still exists so that plan was foiled. Just as you lifted your left leg to bring back on Dean, Sam hefted both legs up by your ankles and, working as a team, they carried you over to the bed. 

  Nevertheless and with stubborn determination, you twist and turn in every possible direction but they appear undeterred. Letting out a scream you seethed, “Get off of me. Where are my brothers, you sick monsters?” 

  Both faces, tight with focus, softened slightly at your words that you took note of and paused you ministrations for a second. A mistake, as this gave Sam the opportunity to sit on your hips and for Dean to restrain your hands above your head.

  Sam looked over at the table, before sighing and looking at you. “Where is the medicine, (Y/N)?”

  Scoffing, you replied “I chucked it out the window, asshole. Now tell me what you’ve done with my brothers? And where the hell even am I anyway?”

  Having had enough of your questions, Sam inserted his hand in your pocket and fished the glass bottle out. Grasping on to common sense for the time, you tightened your lips as much as you could because whatever that potion was it couldn’t be good.

   “Open up, sweetheart. It’s for your own good,” Dean piped in and you gave him the best I-may-be-scared-but-I-will-still-smite-your-ass-look you could muster. He sighed deeply, before coming to a silent decision. Releasing one of his hands from yours, he brought the other to try and wedge them between your lips.

  He’s persistent and slowly but surely, the tightness lessened and you became mildly more terrified. Once they were too sore to press together any longer, you opened them but kept your teeth clenched.

  Sam tutted this time, and reached for the spoon. He un-capped the lid and poured a massive glob of the shitty looking liquid onto it before turning back to focus on you. “You may not want it, but we want our sister, not theirs, so we’ll do this the hard way.” 

 You silently screamed at him as he literally began trickling the medicine between the crevices of your teeth. You barely registered how at least the liquid tasted good before feeling drowsy.

  “There we go, good girl. Now we'll chase away all those nasty thoughts of that unsafe life and monster hunting you had, hm?” Sam.

  “Well done, (Y/N). Go to sleep, we’ll see you when you wake up. Love you, darling,” Dean.

  They both pressed light kisses to your forehead before maneuvering you under the covers and into a more comfortable position.

  “This can’t happen again, Sam. One more time and she’s irredeemable.”

  “I know, Dean. Only a few more doses and Crowley said we could have our sister back.”

  Dean hummed then they both left the room, but not without another “love you” each. Before everything faded into black, you managed a “what the fuck?” Then you were out.

[vickyvicarious]

Leverage Redemption Pros/Cons List

Okay! Now that I've finally finished watching the first half of Leverage: Redemption, I thought I'd kind of sum up my overall impression. Sort of a pro/con list, except a little more just loosely structured rambles on each bullet point rather than a simple list.

This got way out of hand from what I expected so I'm going to put it all under a cut. If you want the actual bulletpoint list, here it is:

PROS

References

Continuity

Nate

Representation

Themes

New Characters

General Vibe

CONS

'Maker and Fixer'

Episode Twins

Sophie's Stagefright

Thiefsome

You might notice the pros list is longer, and that's because I do love the show! I really like most of what it does, and my gripes are fewer in number and mostly smaller in size. But they do exist and I felt like talking about them as well as the stuff I loved.

PROS

References

There is clearly so much love and respect for the original show here. Quite aside from the general situation, there's a lot of references to individual episodes or character traits from the first show. For example, Parker's comments on disliking clowns, liking puppets, disliking horses, stabbing vs. tasing people. The tasing was an ongoing thing in the original, the stabbing happened once (S1) but was referenced later in the original show, the clown thing only had a few mentions scattered across the entire original show. The puppet thing was mentioned once in S5, and the horses thing in particular was only brought up in S1 once. But they didn't miss the chance to put the nod to it in there; in fact with those alone we see a good mix of common/ongoing jokes and smaller details.

We got "dammit Hardison" and "it's a very distinctive..." but also Eliot and Parker arguing about him catering a mob wedding, and Eliot being delighted by lemon as a secret ingredient in a dish in that same episode (another reference to the mob episode). Hardison and Eliot banter about "plan M", an ongoing joke starting from the very first episode of the original show. We see Sophie bring up Hardison's accent in the Ice Job, Parker also makes reference to an early episode when describing "backlash effect" to Breanna, in an episode that also references her brother slightly if you look for it.

Heck, the last episode of these first eight makes a big deal out of nearly reproducing the iconic opening lines of the original show with Fake Nate's "we provide... an advantage." And I mean, all the "let's go steal a ___" with Harry being confused about how to use them.

Some of the lines are more obviously references to the original show, but they strike a decent balance with smaller or unspoken stuff as well, and also mix in some references between the team to events we the audience have never seen. If someone was coming into this show for the first time, they wouldn't get all the easter egg joy but most of the references would stand on their own as dialogue anyway. In general, I think they struck a good balance of restating needed context for new viewers while still having enough standalone good lines and more-fun-if-you-get-it callbacks.

Continuity

Similar to the last point, but slightly different. The characters' development from the original to now is shown so well. I'm not going to go on about this too long, but the writers clearly didn't want to let the original characters stagnate during the offscreen years. There was a lot of real thought put into how they would change or not.

It's really written well. We can see just how cohesive a team Parker, Hardison, and Eliot became. We get a sense of how they've spent their time, and there's plenty of evidence that they remained incredibly close with Sophie and Nate until this past year. The way everyone defers to Parker is different from the original show and clearly demonstrates how she's been well established as the leader for years now - they show this well even as Parker is stepping back to let Sophie take point in these episodes. Eventually that is actually called out by Sophie in the eighth episode, so we might see more mastermind Parker in the back half of the show, maybe. But even with her leading, it's clear how collaborative the team has become, with everyone bouncing ideas off one another and adding their input freely. Sometimes they even get so caught up they leave the newbies completely in the dust. But for the most part we get a good sense of how the Parker/Hardison/Eliot team worked with her having final say on plans but the others discussing everything together. A little bit more collaborative than it was with Nate at the helm.

Meanwhile Sophie has built a home and is deeply attached to it. She and Nate really did retire, at least for the most part, and she was living her happy ending until he died. She's out of practice but still as skilled as ever, and we're shown how much her grief has changed her and how concerned the others are for her.

There's a lot of emphasis on how they all look after one another and the found family is clearer than ever. Sophie even calls Hardison "his father's son" - clearly referring to Nate.

Nate

Speaking of Nate! They handled his loss so, so well. His story was the most complete at the end of the last show, and just from a narrative point, losing him makes the most sense of all the characters. But the way he dies and his impact on the show and the characters continues. It's very respectful to who he was - who he truly was.

Nate was someone they all loved, but he was a deeply flawed individual. Sophie talks about how he burned too hot, but at least he burned - possibly implying to me that his drinking was related to his death. In any case, there's no mystery to it. We don't know how he died but that's not what's most important about his death. This isn't a quest for revenge or anything... it's just a study of grief and trying to heal.

Back to who he really was real quick - the show doesn't eulogize him as better than he was. They're honest about him. From the first episode's toast they raise in his memory, to the final episode where Sophie and Eliot are deeply confused by Fake Nate singing his praises, the team knows who he was. They don't erase his flaws... but at the same time he was so clearly theirs. He was family, he was the man they trusted and loved and followed into incredibly dangerous situations, and whose loss they all still feel deeply.

That said, the show doesn't harp on this point. They reference him, but they don't overwhelm new viewers with a constant barrage of Nate talk. It always serves a purpose, primarily for Sophie's storyline of moving through her grief. Anyway, @robinasnyder said all of this way better than me here, so go read that as well.

Representation

Or should I say, Jewish Hardison, Autistic Parker, Queer Breanna!

Granted, Hardison's religion isn't quite explicitly stated to be Jewish so much as he mentions that his "Nana runs a multi-denominational household", but nonetheless. He gets the shows big thesis statement moment, he gets a beautiful speech about redemption that is the emotional cornerstone of that episode and probably Harry's entire arc throughout the show. And while I'm not Jewish myself, most of what I've seen from Jewish fans is saying that Hardison's words here were excellent representation of their beliefs. (@featherquillpen does a great job in that meta of contextualizing this with his depiction in the original show as well.)

Autistic Parker, however, is shown pretty dang blatantly. She already was very much coded as autistic in the original show, but the reboot has if anything gone further. She sees a child psychologist because she likes using puppets to represent emotions, she stims, she uses cue cards and pre-written scripts for social interactions, there's mention of possible texture sensitivity and her clothes are generally more loose and comfortable. She's gotten better at performing empathy and understanding how people typically work, but it's specifically described as something she learned how to do and she views her brain as being different from ones that work that way (same link). Again, not autistic myself but from what I've seen autistic fans find a lot to relate to in her portrayal. And best of all, this well-rounded and respectful depiction does not show any of these qualities as a lack on her part. There's no more of those kinda ableist comments or "what's wrong with you" jokes that were in the original show. Parker is the way she is, and that allows her to do things differently. She's loved for who she is, and any effort made to fit in is more just to know how so that she can use it to her advantage when she wants to on the job - for her convenience, not others' comfort.

Speaking of loved for who you are.... okay, again, queer Breanna isn't confirmed onscreen yet, and I don't count Word of God as true canon. But I can definitely believe we're building there. Breanna dresses in a very GNC way, and just her dialogue and, I dunno, vibes seem very queer to me. She has a beautiful speech in the Card Game Job about not belonging or being accepted and specifically mentions "the way they love" as one of those things that made her feel like she didn't belong. And that scene is given so much weight and respect. (Not to mention other hints throughout the episode about how much finding her own space meant to her.) Also, the whole theme of feeling rejected and the key for her to begin really flourishing is acceptance for who she is, not any desire for her to be anyone else, is made into another big moment. Yeah, textually that moment is about her feeling like she has to fill Hardison's shoes and worrying about her past, but the themes are there, man.

Themes

I talked a bit about this yesterday, so I'm mostly just going to link to that post, but... this series so far is doing a really good job in my opinion of giving people arcs and having some good themes. Namely the redemption one, from Hardison's speech (which I'm gonna talk a little more about in the next point), and this overall theme of growing up and looking to the future (from above the linked post).

New Characters

Harry and Breanna are fantastic characters. I was kind of worried about Harry being a replacement Nate, but... he really isn't. Sure, he's the older white guy who has an angsty past but it's in a very different way and his personality and relationships with the rest of the crew are correspondingly different. I think the dynamic of a very friendly, cheerful, kind, but still bad guy (as @soundsfaebutokay points out) is a great one to show, and he's got a really cool arc I think of learning to be a better person, and truly understanding Hardison's point about redemption being a process not a goal. His role on the team also has some interesting applications and drawbacks, as @allegorymetaphor talked about. I've kind of grown to think that the show is gradually building up to an eventual Sophie/Harry romance a ways down the line, and I'm actually here for it. Regardless, his relationships with everyone are really interesting.

As for Breanna, first of all and most importantly I love her. Secondly, I think she's got a really interesting story. She's a link to Hardison's past, and provides a really interesting perspective for us as someone younger who has grown up a) looking up to Leverage and b) in a bleaker and more hopeless world. Breanna's not an optimist, and she's not someone who was self-sufficient and unconcerned with the rest of the world at the start, like everyone else. She believes that the world sucks and she wants it to be better, but she doesn't know how to make that happen. She outright says she's desperate and that's why she's working with Leverage. At the same time, Breanna is pretty down on herself and wants to prove herself but gets easily shaken by mistakes or being scolded, which is a stark contrast to Hardison's general self-confidence. There are several times when she starts to have an idea then hesitates to share it, or expects her emotions to be dismissed, or gets really disheartened when she's corrected or rejected, or dwells on her mistakes, or when she is accepted or praised she usually takes a surprised beat and is shy about it (she almost always looks down and away from the person, and her smile is often small or startled). Breanna looks up to the team so much (Parker especially, then probably Eliot) and she wants to prove herself. It's going to be so good to see her grow.

General Vibe

A brief note, but it seems a fitting one to end on. The show keeps it's overall tone and feeling from the original show. The fun, the competency porn, the bad guys and clever plans and happy endings. It's got differences for sure, but the characters are recognizably themselves and the show as a whole is recognizably still Leverage. For the most part they just got the feeling right, and it's really nice.

CONS (no, not that kind)

'Maker and Fixer'

So when I started writing this meta earlier today, I was actually a lot more annoyed by the lack of unique 'maker' skills being shown by Breanna. Basically the only time she tries to use a drone, the very thing she introduced herself as being good at, it breaks instantly. I was concerned about her being relegated into just doing what Hardison did, instead of bringing her own stuff to the table. But the seventh episode eased some of those fears, and the meta I just wrote for someone else asking about Breanna's 'maker' skills as shown this season made me realize there's more nuance than that. I'd still like to have seen more of that from her, but for now the fact that we don't see a lot of 'maker' from her so far seems more like a character decision based in Breanna's insecurities.

Harry definitely gets more 'inside man' usage. His knowledge as a 'fixer' comes in handy several times. Nonetheless, I'm really curious if there are any bigger ways to use it, aside from him just adding in some exposition/insight from time to time. I'm not even entirely sure how much more they can pull from this premise in terms of relevant skills, but I hope there's more and I'd like to see it. Maybe a con built more around him playing a longer role playing his old self, like they tried in the Tower Job? Maybe it's more a matter of him needed distance from that part of his past, being unable to face it without lashing out - in that case it could be a good character growth moment possibly for him to succeed in being Scummy Lawyer again down the line? I dunno.

Episode Twins

This was something small that kind of bothered me a little earlier in the season. It's kind of the negative side to the references, I guess? And I'm not even sure how much it annoys me really, but I just kinda noticed and felt sort of weird about it.

Rollin' on the River has a lot of references/callbacks to the The Wedding Job.

The Tower Job has a lot of references/callbacks to The White Rabbit Job.

The Paranormal Hacktivity Job has a lot of references/callbacks to the Future Job.

I guess I was getting a little concerned that there would be a 'match this episode' situation where almost every new Redemption episode is very reminiscent of an old one. I love the callbacks, but I don't want to see a lack of creativity in this new show, and this worried me for a minute. Especially when it was combined with all three of those episodes dealing with housing issues of some kind. Now, that's a huge concern for a lot of people, and each episode has its own take on a different problem within that huge umbrella, but it still got me worried about a lack of variety in topics/cases.

The rest of the episodes failing to line up so neatly in my head with older episodes helped a lot to ease this one, though. Still, this is my complaining section so I figured I'd express my concerns as they were at the time. Even if I no longer really worry about it much.

Sophie's Stagefright

Yeah, I know this is just a small moment in a single episode, but it annoyed me! Eliot made a bit of a face at Sophie going onstage, but I thought it was just him being annoyed at the general situation. However, they started out with her being awful up there until she realized the poem was relevant to the con - at which point her reading got so much better.

This felt like a complete betrayal of Sophie's beautiful moment at the end of the original show where she got over her trouble with regular acting and played Lady Macbeth beautifully in front of a full theater of audience members. This was part of the con, but only in the sense that it gave her an alibi/place to hide, and I always interpreted it as her genuinely getting over her stagefright problems. It felt like such a beautiful place to end her arc for that show, especially after all her time spent directing.

Now, her difficulty onstage in the Card Game Job was brief and at the very beginning of being up on stage. @rinahale suggested to me that maybe it was a deliberate tactic to draw the guy's attention, and the later skill was simply her shifting focus to make the sonnet easier for Breanna to listen to and interpret, but he seemed more enraptured when she was doing well than otherwise in my opinion and it just doesn't quite sit well with me. My other theory was that maybe she just hasn't been up on stage in a long time, and much like she complaining about being rusty at grifting before the team pushed her into trying, she got nervous for a moment at the very beginning. The problem there is that I think she'd definitely still get involved in theater even when she and Nate were retired. I guess she could've quit after he died, and a year might be long enough to make her doubt herself again, but... still.

I just resent that they even left it ambiguous at all. Sophie's skills should be solid on stage at this point in my opinion.

Thiefsome

...And now we come to my main complaint. This is, by far, the biggest issue I have with the show.

I feel like I should put a disclaimer here that I had my doubts from the beginning about the thiefsome becoming canon onscreen. I thought the famous "the OT3 is safe" tweet could easily just mean that they are all still alive and well, or all still working together, without giving us confirmation of a romantic relationship. Despite this, the general fandom expectations/hopes really got to me, especially with the whole "lock/pick/key" thing. I tried to temper my expectations again when the character descriptions came out and only mentioned Hardison loving Parker, not Eliot, but I still got my hopes up.

The thing is, I was disappointed pretty quickly.

The very first episode told me that in all likelihood we would never see Hardison and Parker and Eliot together in a romantic sense. Oh, there was so much coding. So much hinting. So much in the way of conversations that were about Parker/Hardison's relationship but then Eliot kept getting brought into them. They were portrayed as a unit of three.

But then there was this.

I love all of those scenes of Parker and Hardison being intimate and loving and comfortable with one another and their relationship. I really do. But it didn't escape my notice that there's nothing of the sort with Eliot. If they wanted a canon onscreen thiefsome, it would by far make the most sense to just have it established from the start. But there aren't any scenes where Eliot shares the same kind of physical closeness with either of them like they do each other. Parker and Hardison kiss; he doesn't kiss anyone. They have several clearly romantic conversations when alone; he gets important conversations with both but the sense of it being romantic isn't there.

Establishing Eliot as part of the relationship after Hardison is gone just... doesn't make any sense. It would be more likely to confuse new viewers, to make them wonder if Parker is cheating on Hardison with Eliot, or if they have a Y shaped relationship rather that a triangle. It would be so much clumsier.

Still, up until the Double-Edged-Sword Job I believed the writers might keep it at this level of 'plausible hinting but not quite saying'. There's a lot of great stuff with all of them, and I never expecting making out or whatever anyway; a cheek-kiss was about the height of my hopes to be honest. I mostly just hoped for outright confirmation and, failing that, I was happy enough to have the many hints and implications.

But then Marshal Maria Shipp came along. And I don't really have anything against her as a character - in fact, I think she has interesting story potential and will definitely come back. But the episode framed her fight with Eliot as a sexyfight TM, much like his fight with Mikel back in the day. And then his flirting with her rode the line a little of "he's playing her for the con" and "he's genuinely flirting." The scene where he tells her his real name is particularly iffy, but actually was the one that convinced me he was playing her. Because he seems to be watching her really closely, and to be very concerned about her figuring out who he really is. I am very aware though that I'm doing a lot of work to interpret it the way I want. On surface appearance, Eliot's just flirting with an attractive woman, like he did on the last show. And that's probably the intention, too.

But the real nail in the coffin for me was when Sophie compared herself and Nate to Eliot and Maria. That was a genuine scene, not the continuation of the teasing from before. And Sophie is the one whose insight into people is always, always trustworthy. She is family to the thiefsome. For this to make any sense, either Eliot/Parker/Hardison isn't a thing, or they are and Sophie doesn't know - and I can't imagine why in the hell she wouldn't know.

Any argument to make them still canon leaves me unsatisfied. If she knows and they haven't admitted it to her - why wouldn't they, after all this time? Why would she not have picked up on it even without an outright announcement? Some people suggested they wouldn't admit it because they thought Nate would be weird about it, but that doesn't seem any more in character to me than the other possibilities. In fact, the only option that doesn't go against my understanding of these people and their observational abilities/the close relationship they share.... is that the thiefsome is not a thing.

And furthermore, the implication of this conversation - especially the way it ended, with Eliot stomping off looking embarrassed while Sophie smiled knowingly - is that Eliot will get into another relationship onscreen. Maybe not a full-blown romantic relationship. But the Maria Shipp tension is going to be resolved somehow, and at this point I'm half-expecting a hook-up simply because of Sophie's reaction and how much I trust her judgement of such things. Even if she's letting her grief cloud her usual perceptiveness... it feels iffy.

It just kinda feels like I wasn't even allowed to keep my "interpret these hints/maybe they are" thiefsome that I expected after the first couple episodes convinced me we wouldn't get outright confirmation. (I mean, I will anyway, and I love the hints and allusions regardless.) And while I'm definitely not the kind of fan who is dependent on canon for my ships, and still enjoy all their interactions/will keep right on headcanoning them all in a relationship, it's just.... a bummer.

Feels like a real cop-out. Like the hints of Breanna being queer are enough to meet their quota and they won't try anything 'risky' like a poly relationship. I dunno. It's annoying.

.

That's the end of the list! Again, overall I love the new show a lot and have few complaints.

[huihuiheart]

Sex God - Hyunjin pt. 2

Pairing: God! Hyunjin x Sub!Female Reader

Genre: Smut with some fluff and angst.

Summary: You made Hyunjin jealous and now you’d have to face the repercussions. Something you may have thought about a little more ahead of time, considering he had a few tricks up is sleeves. - Part 1 Here

Warnings: Jealous sex, unprotected sex, punishment, dom/sub themes, some bdsm themes, bondage, claiming, marking, biting, dirty talk, degradation, power play, corruption kink (hinted at), sensory play (kind of), oral ( m receiving), exhibition (slight), brat taming, spanking, orgasm control/denial, master kink, sex toys, vibrators, paddles, hair pulling, spit, cumshot, cum eating, squirting, praise, mirror sex.

Word Count: 4,070

“I would have thought that by now you’d know better than to test me, little girl. After all, it’d be a shame for you not to cum tonight, especially when that’s what I do so well.” Hyunjin’s threat is something you know he’d follow through with based on your experience, but that doesn’t mean you’re through with testing him just yet. No, if he was going to give you attention now, then you were going to make sure and get as much of it as you possibly could.

“Well, maybe I’ll go back to Felix then. I’m sure he would make it happen if you don’t want to.” You quip with a smirk that Hyunjin instantly wiped away with a smack to your inner thigh. Your clothes were off in a flash.

“Oh, little girl, when I’m through with you, you won’t be going anywhere.”

Hyunjin’s gaze was sharp, holding you captive as you tried to decipher all the meanings behind it. Giving any clue as to what punishments you might have earned yourself with your behavior, yet he gave nothing away. You know that even if he’s already decided on what to do with you that he’ll still stay silent for a few moments, letting your anticipation build. It gives him an edge and he knows it from the occasions when the silence has been enough alone to make you crack.

He takes a few steps before stopping right in front of you and pulling his sleeves up, before twirling his fingers, twirling silky ribbons of gold into existence. His eyes rake over your form possessively before licking his lips in a dark hunger, practically able to taste you on his tongue from the sheer memory of it. He won’t be getting to that quite yet though, not until he’s already chipped away at your inner brat a bit.

“Strip.” You blink at his sudden demand, making no move to do as he says quite yet, too stunned at the suddenness of it. His free hand grips your jaw, making you look him in the eyes as he clicks his tongue in disapproval, “You had your fun little brat, but now I’m in charge and unless you’d like to ask for worse I suggest you do as I tell you when I tell you. Now strip.”

“Y-Yes master.” You’re quick to correct, hands shaking as you bring them to the hem of your shirt. You make no sign of disobeying, however, knowing you’ve already infuriated Hyunjin enough to give you more than sufficient punishment for one evening. Perhaps, even to go farther than he was with you before. 

Hyunjin hums in approval, twirling his finger to motion for you to spin for him, wanting to see all of your form, “Good girl, finally listening to me. On the bed now. I want you on your knees, arms behind your back.” 

You know Hyunjin will be watching you intently ready to pick up on any little slip up that you might make, so you’re careful to do exactly as he’s told. Keeping your eyes down until he permits you to look at him. Hyunjin sets down the glittering ropes on the edge of the bed, barely in your line of sight, wanting to know if they’d catch your attention enough to make you break your suddenly compliant nature. When you continue to display submission he finally moves forwards, fingertips dancing along your thighs as he leans down to look up at your face. He minds himself smirking when you divert your gaze again.

“It seems like you can remember my rules...well when you want to.” Hyunjin chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest as he leans back to grasp the silky ropes again, “You can look at me. I want you to tell me exactly what you did to earn everything I’m going to do to ruin your body tonight little girl.”

You slowly meet his gaze, gulping as you find the storm brewing in them, “I-I broke some of master’s rules. I was with another man a-and when master came to get me I back talked him. I-I was a brat and deliberately disobeyed him.”

“So you understand what I have to do to you then, don’t you little brat?” Hyunjin started to lay out the rope, preparing for what he was going to do next, licking his lips as your eyes twitched. Your sight was almost drawn to the motion of his actions but instead keeping on his eyes like he’d expected.

“I-I do. Master has to punish me, r-remind me of his rules. I promise I’ll take it, master, s-show you that I can be good for you.” Your voice wavers for a moment and Hyunjin picks up on it, pausing his actions. He leans forward, brushing your hair back behind your ear and kissing your temple in a gentle act.

“I know you will little girl, you always do. You remember our safe word?” Hyunjin’s tone has lightened up, showing you that while he’s worked up he cares so deeply for you. Your well-being is always his foremost concern and you know that nodding and quietly voicing the word. Hyunjin hums, placing one last kiss before leaning back and returning to his previous actions, “Face the other way.”

When you listen, keeping your hands behind your back Hyunjin gets exactly what he wants. You are in a perfect position for him to box tie your hands, something you’re familiar with in the bedroom with him. Hyunjin liked the way it allowed him to move you as he pleased, and the way it kept your hands out of his way, so he wouldn’t have to worry as much about accidents. He checks around his ties after he finishes to ensure that they aren’t too tight to bring you harm, before turning you around again. He then sets to work frog tying your legs, something much less common as he liked to watch the way they would shake as he made you feel good. Tonight though, he wanted to remind you who was in charge, who had the control here, so he decided to limit you more than usual in what you could do. Once finished he checked those ties as well, before stepping back to appreciate how good you looked with the delicate gold color shimmering against your skin.

After appreciating his handiwork for a moment, Hyunjin starts to back away leaving you there with widening eyes. He stops by the door, but never leaves, instead hitting the light switch and plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light being the ropes Hyunjin had created and tied you up with, giving a faint golden glow around them, but not enough to allow you to really see anything. It gives Hyunjin another advantage, the element of surprise. Something you know he would use to put you on edge, not knowing what punishments you’ll be given before they’re delivered. 

You feel the bed dip with Hyunjin’s weight before the glow illuminates his face just slightly, it makes him appear even more ethereal than usual. It’s not a sight you get to enjoy long, however, before he grips your hips and flips you over onto your knees. He pushes your shoulder until you fall forward, cheek pressed against the mattress, while your ass is up and exposed. Your legs spread and unable to squirm even a little, leaving you positioned entirely at Hyunjin’s mercy.

His hand cracks down on the swell of your ass without warning drawing a whimper out of you before you feel his weight leave again. The only thing you have to go by is the occasional shuffling sounds as he moves to get what he wanted. You nearly jump when he tosses a few things onto the bed behind you, making him chuckle again as he notices you shift slightly before his stern side is showing through again.

“Careful little brat, you have nowhere to run now. Not that you’d want to anyway considering no one could treat you as good as I do anyway, hm?” Hyunjin questions you, his voice slowly drawing closer before his hand comes down on your ass again.

“N-No master, only you can treat me this good. O-Only you can teach me how to be a good little whore.” You whine, doing your best to stay still, but every little action that set your senses on fire was only increased by your lack of sight. 

“I want you to count them out for me, tell me just what your slutty behavior earlier earned you. If you mess up we won’t start over, I’ll just add five more for any mistakes you make from this point forward. Do you understand?” The second between his words and your breath to speak, you feel the leather from one of Hyunjin’s favorite paddles brushing over your ass. Giving you a hint of what you were in for, even if you still weren’t sure when you’ll be earning his mercy.

“Yes master, I understand.” You whimper out so softly, you’re not sure Hyunjin hears you, but lucky for you he does. 

He gives you a moment to prepare yourself, knowing he was going to put you through a lot, before delivering the first series of swift blows. Only five in and your voice starts to tremble, letting him know your body was on edge. By ten hits your slick is dripping down your plush thighs, core throbbing as it begs for attention that it won’t receive for some time still. After fifteen hits he gives you a moment to recover, knowing you had your voice was starting to be strained from crying out to him already. When he reaches twenty hits you’re starting to cry, tears painting your face and dazzling like little gems as the golden glow from the ropes hits them. Twenty-five hits and you’re getting a few soft whispered assurances from Hyunjin, him knowing you’re close to your limit. He gives you only five more, ignoring the wavering in your tone as you almost can’t call out the number, but trying so hard to behave for him, and right now that notion is enough. The last blow from the paddle is the hardest, but it lets you know he’s done.

Hyunjin’s hands rub over your ass, stinging slightly before helping soothe the burn left behind on your bruised flesh. He leans down to leave a few kisses, the action making you mewl and he chuckles before biting down on the tender skin. 

“Such a good little girl taking that. I don’t think you’ll forget who you belong to anytime soon with how sore your ass is going to be.” Hyunjin laughs under his breath before his touch leaves your skin. Leaving you in the dark again as to what he would do to you next, only hearing some shuffling again. 

Hyunjin’s hand strokes over your hair, caressing softly, before suddenly gripping it, sending pin pricks over your scalp in burning waves. He looks down at you smirking softly as his cock sits right out of reach of your mouth. The light from the ropes barely illuminates Hyunjin, but doing enough to let you make out the way his muscles tense while he grips your hair and holds himself back. Or the way his dark eyes bore into you, gold flickering through in beautiful sparkles from the glow, while his golden hair falls in front of his face, threatening to ruin your view.

“Look at how desperate you are, after acting like it was the last thing you wanted earlier. Trying to act all innocent like you weren’t trying to make all jealous. Like you aren’t just a little whore for me. What have I actually done to you, hm? You used to be a sweet little angel, now you’re a slut drooling from both ends for my cock.” Hyunjin taunts free hand gripping your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your lip, spreading the drool that had been threatening to spill out, “If you want it that bad, then I guess you can have it. You better make it good though, I still don’t think you’ve earned the chance to cum tonight, yet.”

Just because you were going to get a taste of him though, did not mean you had any control in the slightest. Hyunjin’s grip on your hair is still firm as he guides you close enough, letting you take your time as you take his length into your mouth, allowing you some time to appreciate it before he took over again. His eyes meet yours as they remain on him, unwavering and eager to please as you slowly take his length down your throat, trying to get used to the feeling again. Only getting a moment, before Hyunjin’s grip solidifies again, locking you in place as his hips start rutting into your mouth.

“L-Look at you sucking dick so skillfully, j-just like how I taught you. S-Such a filthy fucking slut for me.” Hyunjin groans, eyes scrunching closed for a moment when you earnestly swallow around him, hollowing your cheeks to only further add to his pleasure. You can still watch every facial expression he makes with his head hanging in soft moans, his pace picking up and making you gag around him the sounds only adding to the lewd scene as he forces his eyes open to enjoy every aspect of what is happening at this moment.

You take pride in knowing Hyunjin almost as well as he knows you, the triggers it takes for him to fall apart too. Which is how you know he’s right on the edge, something you’re hoping to throw him over before he denies you the satisfaction of his taste. Something else he often does whenever you’re being punished, though it wouldn’t be the first time you’d convinced him wordlessly to cum down your throat. Today, however, his resolve is firm, determined not to give into you until he’s satisfied you’ve learned that Felix is not the one who can do this to you. 

Hyunjin revels in the way that your whine, lips still parted as you try to resist his grip on your hair to wrap your mouth around his cock again. He’s having none of it though as he strokes himself to completion. Letting his cum paint your face and neck in the prettiest patterns. You wear him like a badge of honor, like a collar of the most beautiful sparkling gems and he thinks he might just have to gift you something of the sort as a reminder.

“I won’t give it to you that easy...not today.” Hyunjin chuckles, situating you to sit up on your knees once again. Him tapping your inner knee until you get the hint and spread your legs, humming in approval at the slick smeared along your inner thighs and what was on display between them. The color of the golden glow hitting your skin and dancing off your slick only makes you more appealing, “This color looks good on you little girl.”

His slight praise has you keening begging for his touch once more without even using words, only inflating his ego more. He knew exactly what he did to you and thrived off that power. When he leans in you think he’s going to kiss you, but he doesn’t, instead, his tongue laves over your cheek, collecting up some of his cum.

He hums as he pulls back to look into your eyes, his hand reaching back to grab something, “I love when you taste like me little one, just another reminder that you’re all mine.” 

Hyunjin gives you no clue as to what was in his hand as he kisses and nips harshly over your neck until he finds the spot he wants, biting down harder before licking to soothe the pain. Leaving kisses and soft sucks to the tender flesh to make up for it, but not letting up until he’s satisfied with the blossoming mark that’s left behind. Something he never mentions, however, knowing what he had in mind for later.

His surprise finally revealed when a soft buzz filled the air, Hyunjin bringing the wand to your thighs and teasing the vibrator over that, “We’re going to test you out little brat, see if you’ve actually learned to listen or not. You don’t get to cum until I say you do.” 

He doesn’t word it as a question he expects an answer to, or give you time to retort before the vibrator is turned all the way up and pressed against your clit. Instead, it’s a firm demand, an order that you know there will be dire consequences for if you can not listen to him. Yet, you also know Hyunjin is aware of how easily the wand in his hand makes you fall apart, especially when you’re this desperate. Your determination building at this point, determination to please him, and not earn yourself another punishment. 

Hyunjin grips your jaw, making you look at him as you moan, wanting to soak in even the tiniest flickers of reaction on your face. You’d learned early on that there was no way to hide from him when you were about to cum, so there was no use in trying. There was always a use for begging Hyunjin though, it was just a matter of how much begging it would take...and you had a feeling tonight it would take a lot. You weren’t aware of just how much begging though, until after four ruined orgasms, Hyunjin still pressed the vibrator against your clit without let up. Tears glistening as they streamed down your face.

“M-Master, please! I-I need to cum for you. I need it so badly, p-please let me. I-I’ve done my best to be good for you and show that I can listen and do whatever you ask, j-just please.” Your words come out in near sobs, as you gasp for breath feeling right on the edge once again.

“You can cum little girl when I tell you that you can. You better hold it.” Hyunjin growls nipping at your throat as he watches you closely, waiting until he knows you really can’t hold your orgasm back any longer before finally giving you some relief, “Cum. Now.”

You scream out as you cum, the sound a mix of relief and overwhelming amounts of pleasure. Your orgasm overpowering after the build-up since you both entered this room, it enough to make you squirt, something only Hyunjin was capable of making you do. Hyunjin slowly turned down the vibrator as you rode out your high, before taking it away when it started to change to painful overstimulation, feeling as if he’d tormented you enough at this point. 

“Shh, just breath little one.” Hyunjin coos, gently brushing your tears away and helping guide your breaths to get you to calm down a little bit, “There’s my good girl. You did so good taking everything I gave to you little girl, but I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Hyunjin moves you as he pleases, bending you over again only making sure you keep your head up and facing a mirror across the room. The item not even having crossed your mind, but looking into it now with the only thing illuminated in the pitch-black room the two of you that was all you could pay attention to. It only adds to the feeling as Hyunjin slowly presses his length into you, moaning quietly at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him. His sounds, however quiet, are not something that you let just slip past you, especially not when they sounded like the most beautiful melodies mixed with your sounds. 

If you had asked Hyunjin why he was going so slowly, you’re sure he’d make up some excuse about finally showing you mercy or letting you have a moment to adjust. You knew the reality though, he needed the moment to collect himself...he always did, you were just too perfect to him. The way your warm, wet walls pulsed around him making him weak to his knees, even if he didn’t admit that to you.

As soon as he regained his composure, however, it was like a switch flipped. Hyunjin wastes no time in picking a fast, rough pace to thrust into you, reminding you once again how sore your ass was after his earlier actions. Hyunjin’s movements do not stutter for a second once he sets his pace, a hand immediately slipping between your legs to rub at your clit, determined to get as many orgasms out of you as he could before his own. 

“Who do you moan like this for? Tell me, little girl, is it Felix?” Hyunjin growls, hand gripping your bound arms to pull you back against his chest so you could see in more detail exactly how he fucked you. The way his cock slipped in and out of you, coated in your slick, and the way his skilled fingers rubbed and pinched at your clit so perfectly. 

“N-No master. I-I may be a slut, but it’s only for you. I-I will only ever moan like this for you.” You immediately answer him how you know he wants you to, feeling yourself drawing close to the edge again and not wanting to risk it being denied. Hyunjin notices with a hum and pinches your clit just right to throw you over the blissful edge, keeping you upright as your thighs tremble, before gently letting you lay your chest down onto the bed again. 

“T-That’s right little girl, you’re my filthy fucking slut. Y-You’ll be good and give me one more won’t you?” Hyunjin words it as a question, but you know that he’s not really asking. His own end is drawing closer, yet he won’t let himself give in to the feeling until he’s rewarded you for taking all that you did earlier. When you nod softly, your head is still foggy from your last high, trying to come down from it. Hyunjin gives a sound of approval in his throat as he leans down to kiss your temple. 

When he feels your pussy clenching around him again, nearing your last orgasm...for now...he almost loses it. Only barely holding himself back his fingers speed up on your clit until you snap again, withering beneath him. Hyunjin finally doesn’t hold back his sounds as he cums deep inside of you, painting you white until it starts to leak out of your spent core.

Hyunjin gently with you as he undoes the ties on you. He could make them disappear just as fast as he made them appear, but they looked so beautiful on your skin that he can’t find it in himself to do that... not for a long time at least. His hands massaged your sore muscles for a few moments before helping you up and to the shower, to let the heat help them further. Willing to let you clean up knowing he left more than a few reminders that wouldn’t simply rinse away in the shower. He treats you delicately as always with aftercare. 

A lightbulb seems to go off over his head as he dries you though, making you furrow your brows, “What is it?”

“Ah, I just forgot something when we rushed back, come on let's go get it. It’ll just take a moment.” Hyunjin takes your hand in his and in the blink of an eye, you’re both back where he’d found you with Felix, not giving you any chance to argue.

Hyunjin intentionally leads you past where he knows Felix will be, making you walk without any help from him knowing that if the obvious marks his mouth left on your neck didn’t give away what had happened between you two, then your walk would. Something that always made him proud after he fucked you. Hyunjin smirks at Felix while they pass before smiling sweetly at you and saying he’ll be a second, leaving you standing there. He’s barely longer than that before he’s back having made up what he needed anyways just to show off to Felix who you belonged to. He comes back and soon takes you home, looking at you innocently while you raise a brow and cross your arms at him.

“So?.... You forgot a spoon?”

[captainlevisteacup]

Oooh, an idea has struck. The brothers reacting to Dom Male!MC reuniting with his childhood bestfriend in the Devildom, only their bestfriend is now a high ranking/powerful incubus who has a fuck ton of influence & money. (Not nearly as powerful as any of the brothers or Diavolo, of course, but you get the point)

And while normally a simple childhood friend wouldn’t be enough to bother the brothers, DM!MC’s Femboy CH!Bestfriend is the optimum of gorgeous, with a lithe & toned body and an “innocent” charm to him.

Spoiler Alert, CH!Bestfriend has been in love with DM!MC since they were kids (though it was just puppy love back then) and is determined to never let him get away from him again, resulting in him being extra clingy and needy.

Another Spoiler Alert, DM!MC’s childhood bestfriend may or may not be a mix of a “Worship” & “Self Sacrifice” Yandere.. (Look up “The Dere Types Wiki” if your confused)

You have some very interesting ideas😂 im so sorry this took so long, I didn't want to post it until I was back up to my full working capacity after getting injured and after breaking up with someone😁

Anyways, without further ado, here ya go😘

The Brother's Reactions to M! MC'S Yandere Childhood Incubus! Friend

Warnings: Violence, Language, Blood, VERY SLIGHT sexual themes, some non-consentual touching in Levi's section, brief mention of drugging in Beel's

Lucifer

At first, didn't think twice of MC having a childhood friend

But when he heard the word incubus

He got the smile on his face

You know the one

Lucifer "innocently" is around whenever the incubus is around

Its starts off small

Little poisoned glances from the incubus here and there

But eventually it escalated and turned into him putting a possessive arm around MC's waist

Lucifer snapped

The second the Incubus was alone, Lucifer followed him down an alley

Slammed that fucker against the wall and held him there by the throat

The incubus started laughing, even when Lucifer tightened his grip

"You'll never get rid of me. I have connections to everyone, Fallen Angel. I've loved him since before you even knew he existed, and a prissy peacock like you isnt gonna stop me from making him mine, even if I have to drug and kidnap him"

Lucifer only smiled and released him

The incubus smirked, daintily dusting off his lithe figure

Thinking he won, he shouldered his way past Lucifer

Only to stop short in horror

Deep growls greeted him

Lucifer didn't even bother hiding the screams of the incubus as Cerberus ripped into him

After a while, he signaled Cerberus to stop

As the incubus lies on the ground whimpering, Lucifer calmly says:

"Now that I've shown you just what I'm willing to do to protect MC, I'll make you a deal. MC cares about you, as a FRIEND. But his heart belongs to me and me alone, and mine belongs to him. If you can understand and respect that, I'll allow you near him. But one wrong word, one wrong placement of a hand, and I won't hesitate to finish you off myself. And believe me," he says with a dark chuckle "I won't be as gentle as Cerberus."

Mammon

This man immediately is on high alert

Someone trying to take what's HIS?

The incubus makes him more greedy than ever

Decides not to leave MC's side for a second

Even when he's sleeping

When Mammon can't help the incu-bitch (his nickname for the childhood friend) being around, he acts sort of like a child, which makes him look like a dick in comparison to the incubus's calm and innocent facade

Mammon tries to tell MC there's something up, but he just chalks it up to Mammon being Mammon

One day, MC randomly receives news from the human world that his mother contracted something contagious and was placed in ICU

The incu-bitch was, of course, right there when MC started tearing up, letting him cry into his shoulder

Mammon sees this and starts to protest

This leads MC to snap and tell Mammon he's being a child

Mammon leaves them be and thinks hard

Comes to the conclusion that maybe MC is right, and he begrudgingly decides to apologize to the incubus

As he approaches him, Mammon catches a glimpse of the Incubus's *expensive* phone

Unable to resist, he throws a coin against the wall in the opposite direction.

When he turns to look at the noise, Mammon snatches the phone and yeets off to his room

When he gets there, he opens the phone- no lock- and is startled by what he sees

A fake texting app, along with the messages telling MC his mother was sick

Mammon was about to run to find MC, when he heard a slight chuckle

Looking up, he saw the incubus...holding a knife

"You just couldn't stay away, could you? You've been a pain in the ass ever since I got here. But no matter, once MC sees how *cruel* you are to his defenseless childhood friend, he'll want nothing to do with you. And he'll be mine to fuck and own as I please."

Mammon gritted his teeth and ground out "Making MC think his mother was gravely ill just to get close to him when he's vulnerable? You're disgusting. I actually care about MC, and I respect them more than you ever will."

The incubus snorted, and raised the knife.

"Oi! What do ya think you're doing with that?" Mammon yelled

He raised the knife....and slashed it across his own arm

He then threw the knife towards Mammon, threw himself to the ground, and yelled out in pain

Suddenly, MC burst into the room

Mammon sputtered out a panicked explanation, but MC cut him off with a stare

He kneeled down next to his friend, who reached up with a bloody hand to cup MC'S face

MC put his hand over the incubus's....and sharply bent it backwards

He leaned down and whispered into his ear: "I heard everything, you little shit. Now, get the FUCK out of my house and away from my boyfriend, and don't even THINK of defiling my life with your presence ever again"

After he left, Mammon cautiously said "boyfriend, huh..?"

"Shut up mammon"

Levi

Oh, this won't do

Immediately feels threatened and triggered

He is the avatar of Envy, after all

His response?

Prove to MC nobody can know him as well as he can

He does this every single time the incubus is near

"MC, I got you your favorite drink!"

"MC, I ordered you some food. Don't worry, I already know what you like"

Flinches whenever the incu-bitch touches MC. It literally makes him cringe

His suspicions are confirmed when the incubus shoots Levi a malicious glance next time he touches MC

Levi snaps

Challenges the incubus to a video game duel

He surprisingly accepts

He cheats like hell and beats Levi

Levi goes into his demon form and rages

But MC thinks he's just being a sore loser

He tells Levi to back off and to go cool down

Once Levi storms off, the incu-bitch thanks MC for standing up for him

Then, he promptly tries to make a move on MC

He reaches out a hand to unbutton MC'S shirt

MC slaps his hand away, but not before noticing writing on the Incubus's hand

Before he can pull away, MC snatches his hand and sees cheat codes written on them

Gets super upset and tries to get up to apologize to Levi

The incubus pulls him back down by his wrist and pins them to the couch

"MC, don't you realize? You're all I want, all I need. I WORSHIP you, MC. And you're going to be mine. Nobody else can have you. And you're going to love me, whether you realize it right now or not. You'll learn with time to need me just as desperately as I need you"

Starts to take off MC'S clothes in spite of their fighting and protests, the incubus shushing him

"Shhhh, I know you don't see it, but this will make you see."

Levi slams open the door, tail lashing and face white with rage

"Get your normie hands the fuck off of my human. Now."

The incubus nopes the fuck out. He may be a high ranking incubus, but he still isn't as strong as one of the seven demon brothers.

Levi holds MC tightly as they fumble over an apology

"Shhh MC, its okay. I'm here now. Let's watch some anime and calm down together, yea?"

Satan

Do I even have to explain this one?

Is hostile as soon as MC even MENTIONS a childhood male friend, let alone an INCUBUS

Honestly, the Incubus is a bit scared of Satan

But, he decides he wants MC more than he fears Satan

So, he swallows his fear and patronizes Satan in tiny, unremarkable ways

Ways that would only be noticed by Satan

A stray hand here and there that lingers a LITTLE too long

Wiping a crumb from MC'S lips during a meal

Tucking a stray hair behind MC'S ear

Every last one of these actions makes his blood boil

It gets so bad that Satan is just in a perpetual state of rage, never leaving his demon form

Satan starts passive aggressively insulting the incubus's intelligence

"Oh, you mean you don't know how disestablishmentarianism impacted the overall congruence of Midwest society? Thats odd, its fairly simple. Practically common sense."

Is shocked when MC got livid at him, because he was being condescending for seemingly no reason

Starts to get angry at MC

"Can't you see? He's trying to turn you against me. Just LISTEN, DAMNIT!" He says as he grabs MC'S shoulders

The incubus barges in and shoves Satan away from MC

"Are you ok, MC? Did he hurt you?"

The amount of white hot rage in the room was tangible

He can't do it anymore

Slams the incubus against the wall

Knocks him to the ground

But when he falls down

A bunch of photos fall out of his jacket

Not normal photos

Horrifying ones

One of MC while he showers

One of MC sleeping

One of MC changing

Even one of MC and Satan having a steamy moment

MC goes still...and then SLAPS the shit out of the incubus.

He wordlessly turns to Satan, eyes pleading

"It would be my pleasure, MC" *evil grin*

Cue Satan dragging the incubus off by his hair

Asmo

P A S S I V E A G R E S S I V E

He sees this lovely incubus with NEARLY perfect hair, a lithe and toned body, and a seemingly innocent attitude, and he just wants him gone

He's been with plenty of Incubi, so he knows what they're like

Because of this, he doesn't want this one anywhere NEAR his darling MC

Comes up with a plan to use all his fashion design connections to outdress the incubus

He knows they're vain by nature, so he comes to the conclusion that this is the best course of action

But there's a problem

"Is that a statement piece from Priya Lacroix? She hasn't even released her collection yet"

Asmo.exe is not responding

He knows that HE is the only one Priya would ever give an early release to

So why does THE INCUBUS have her statement piece?

And WHERE is his phone?

Complains to MC, but MC doesn't take him seriously because he's too busy catching up with his friend

Asmo gets jealous and storms off to do a stress relieving skin routine

As MC and the incubus hang out, the incubus's phone goes off

Only...the ringtone is sinful indulgence

Mammon storms into the room

"AHA! I FOUND YA ASMO, YOU ANNOYING LITTLE- huh?"

"I/N? Why do you have Asmo's phone?"

"MC, you have to understand, I just want you to realize I'm the only right one for you. You NEED to realize you can't be with anyone else. Because you're mine, MC. You always have been."

Screeching could be heard in the distance, then footsteps quickly getting closer and closer

"THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY" Asmo yells as he slams open the door

"As if MC would choose a crusty, obsessive, STEALING, lying, probably STD having Incubus like you over me! Now give me my phone back and get out of here. And while you're at it, take off that Priya piece. There's a reason I'm the only one allowed early access."

Beel

Honestly doesn't think that much of it at first

He thinks its nice MC reunited with one of his childhood friends, and an Incubus at that

But when he meets the friend, something just feels off

He gets a weird sensation, and its not hunger

Its like his senses are on red alert

The incubus was nice enough to Beel, seemingly charming and genuine

But Beel couldn't help but feel rubbed the wrong way, with a sensation similar to seaweed against legs in the ocean

He doesn't want to mention this to MC, because he's convinced he's just overreacting

He feels a little sad that MC is too busy for him, but he does his best to give them time together

One night, he had made some food in the kitchen and decided to bring MC and I/N some

When he neared the door, he almost dropped the plate

He heard a loud thud, and MC saying "Hey, I said no, okay?"

He gently opened the door and looked at MC, who immediately forced a smile to his face

"Hey MC, I brought you guys some food. Is everything ok?"

"Thanks Beel, that's sweet of you. Everything's fine, I promise"

Beel relaxed a bit, although he still knew something was off.

The incubus excused himself to use the restroom, encouraging MC to eat without him

Beel and MC sat down, and Beel scarfed down his portion

Chuckling, MC offered his plate to Beel, who gladly accepted

The incubus opened the door shortly after with an expectant look on his face, as well as rope and a gag in his hands

Upon laying eyes on MC, a shocked expression came onto his face as his eyes darted between MC and the empty plate

"How are you still conscious?" He blurted

Confusion flashed across MC'S face. "What do you mean, I/N?"

"You drugged it, didn't you?" Beel spoke up.

"I thought it tasted odd," Beel continued "but I never would have guessed you would actually drug MC. I'm guessing you couldn't handle that MC rejected your advances, so you drugged the food while MC was distracted talking to me. Am I right?"

The incubus chuckled. "Guess I was wrong about you. You are more of a threat than you seem. Heh, I guess you're not just a talking stomach after all."

A loud smack could be heard shortly thereafter.

But the devastating blow didn't come from Beel

It came from an enraged MC

"Trying to drug me I could keep my cool over. If thats all you did I would have just told you to stay the hell away from me. But the SECOND you spoke to Beel like that, you signed your own death warrant."

Before he could react, MC summoned the brothers one by one, Beel explaining the situation.

"Well, MC, perfect timing as always. I was just beginning to get bored" Satan drawled

*screams*

Belphie

It takes a yandere to know one

Belphie doesn't want to alarm MC though, so he decides to outmaneuver the incubus without him noticing

It starts small, with I/N reaching out to put an arm over MC'S shoulder, and Belphie's arm already being there

Eventually, they start glaring daggers at each other the second MC looks away

After a while, Belphie decides to up the ante

Religiously falls asleep on MC when I/N is trying to spend time with him

Goads the incubus so much that he corners Belphie when he snaps and can't take any more

"Listen, I know exactly what you're doing. But if you think that YOU can take him away from me, you're sorely mistaken. MC is mine whether he likes it or not. And if it turns out to be the latter, well, let's just say he won't have much of a choice in the matter, nor will you have any control over it. Got that?"

Belphie does the one thing he knows will get the outcome he had painstakingly built up to the past couple weeks: he laughs

"Ah, you have a good sense of humor, know that? Funny stuff. All kidding aside, MC already belongs to me. So your child's play isn't gonna cut it. Got THAT?"

With a choked cry of fury, the incubus pulls out a knife and stabs Belphie

Belphie, having planned this, falls to the floor just as the door opens to reveal a shocked MC.

"BELPHIE! Shit, please be okay! What the FUCK is wrong with you, I/N?"

The stunned Incubus could only stammer out a couple words

"I- he...was gonna...tried to take what was mine. Tried to take you..."

MC laughed bitterly and shoved him to the floor.

"I don't know what sick world you're living in, but I belong to Belphie. I love him. And I hate YOU. Now I'll leave you be so you can deal with THAT. Ta ta." He says as he scoops up Belphie and heads out the door

"Deal with what?" I/N nervously asks after him, backing up warily

The incubus stops when his back hits something hard.

Gulping, he looks up...

"Hello, I/N, I'm Beel."

"Nice to...meet you? I imagine you're one of the brothers?" He replies shakily

Beel smiles. The light doesn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, I'm one of the brothers. You see, I'm Belphie's twin."

Across the house, Belphie smiles at the faint screams, MC curled up next to him after patching him up.

He succeeded in protecting what was his. He deserves a good nap. Holding MC tighter, he goes back to sleep.

[strayfreckles]

all on you.

☕︎︎ hwang hyunjin x reader (ft. ryujin, felix, & yeji); highschool au, friends-to-lovers au, barista au, bulletpoint fic.

maybe you would’ve gotten out of highschool with your emotions (and pride) unscathed if it weren’t for hwang hyunjin and his so-called romantic, obnoxious—and, in your case, unfortunately effective—antics.

includes: fluff, angst (especially in the middle), mutual pining, somewhat slow burn (?), gn!reader, barista!reader, a hefty amount of swearing, the only consistent thing you’ll see here is how utterly terrible this is, fluctuating humor

notes: this was requested by a wonderful anon! before you dive in, i’d like to inform you that this is my first fic of any kind, so please tread gently 😔✋ though constructive criticism is appreciated !! hope you enjoy (and hopefully not cringe too much sdkdnkdks) <33

wordcount: 2.8k

let me be the first to say that you absolutely abhor romance films with every existing fiber and cell in your body.

like, you cannot physically withstand the atrocity that is occurring right before your very eyes and you have to tear your gaze away before you bash your head to the nearest table.

and though you do admit that you’re overreacting sometimes

you also admit that you’re a massive dumbass for falling prey to one of the most common—and one of the most infuriating tropes—that is falling for your best friend.

yeah, hwang hyunjin? that boy holds your heart between his palms and with every smile you fall deeper and deeper

you’ve known that kid since you started eating crayons in elementary, and since then you’d been attached at the hip, clung to each other through all the clownery of middle school

finding each other in places is like a sixth sense; it only takes you both less than a minute to find the other before startling them with a quiet “hey, you”

but time is impatient, and that timid, starry-eyed boy you knew became the dimpled heartthrob come highschool—geared with the smarts and the talents and love-laced words that sent boys and girls running after him

but to you he was always just that kid who nearly consumed clay cakes because “it looked so real!”

until he wasn’t

it just came to you like a blow to the face, in the middle of sophomore year, sitting on hyunjin’s bedroom floor on a weekend trying to cram revise for your upcoming exams

you decided to take a quick break, and made the mistake of looking at hyunjin

and my oh my was he stunning

every laugh that tumbled from his lips sounded like a fucking symphony

and the bastard was just playing with kkami !!

he looked so damn soft as he planted kisses on his coat

every single constellation you knew was embedded in his irises

haha heartbeat go brrrrrrr

and maybe all you wanted was for him to never stop smiling, because he looked the most beautiful when he did, and maybe you wanted to brush his hair away from his face because you couldn’t see his eyes all that well and what the fuck—

you just malfunctioned

because that was your best friend

he noticed you staring, of course, and had the audacity to smirk, and in a second you wanted to set yourself on fire

“y/n, i know i look good, but at least try to be subtle.”

“you look like a low-budget minion, hyunjin.”

“i’d rather be a minion than a shabbier version of gru, thank you.”

(many fists were thrown that day, and hyunjin learned not to pick fun at your clothing lest that he face humiliation)

for the first few months you were in constant denial, even going so far as to blame hyunjin himself for forcing you to watch countless romcoms on your weekly sleepovers

but once you catch hyunjin staring at you with that fond look in his eyes, one he’s carried since childhood, your heart finally has the courage to murmur into the concaves of your chest, i am in love

it gets worse around senior year

the summer after junior year you land yourself a job at miroh café, a coffee shop at the heart of the town bc you’re broke as fuck and you need the cash

and, as expected, hyunjin becomes a frequent patron

he’s armed with a pickup line every single time he orders

and every single time you have to tell your heart to calm the fuck down he’s always been like this c’mon gimme a break

it’s even gone to the point where the regulars mistake him as your boyfriend

and as if your conscience nagging you 24/7 wasn’t enough mental baggage, your coworkers and fellow seniors, felix and ryujin, decided to weigh in

“if that isn’t the look of someone who’s simping over you then i don’t know what is,” ryujin nudges you, and from the repetitive force you’ve sustained from the past week you’re surprised your ribs aren’t bruised yet.

“you act like you’re not in the same dance crew,” you scoff, “ryujin, he flirts with everyone—he even had the balls to hit on chan!”

“let me remind you that denial is always the first stage of falling in love,” felix chirps, cheerful as he replenishes the pain au chocolat in the display.

“and let me remind you that i’m holding a very hot cup of coffee straight out of the machine; ‘accidents’ can happen, felix.”

of course, you weren’t in denial—you’d been past that stage long ago

it’s just that you didn’t wanna give yourself false hope

you didn’t want to lose this beautiful thing with him that’s lasted for nearly a decade because of your stupid emotions

so you’ve trained yourself to remain indifferent to the many compliments and lines he sent your way, hoping that if you could fool the others into thinking he didn’t affect you, maybe you could fool yourself, too

but oh ho ho, do i have some news for you (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

you don’t know how hyunjin’s pulse speeds up whenever he sees a handwritten note on his coffee wishing him good luck

you don’t know how often he forces himself to stop staring at you whenever you’re not looking

you don’t know how stupidly happy it makes him when he sees you smile

especially when he’s the reason why.

maybe everything about you makes hwang hyunjin happy

and maybe if you weren’t so kind and gentle and considerate during the times he lost a competition then maybe he wouldn’t have fallen this hard

but you were (and still are)

during the times you cried from laughter at all his antics

or cracked a smile at one of his pickup lines

he’d think that maybe—just maybe—he could stand a chance

but every time he did, he’d spiral into self-doubt

because there’s no way you would ever fall for him

you’re the kindest, most talented person hyunjin has ever known who deserves the universe

and he’s just… him

even if he did plan to confess, he’d be putting everything at stake; you’re too important to him, losing you would be a loss too heavy for him to bear

so he’s content with playing this role

even if the idea of you being with someone else hurts him so much

he’s content with reminding you everyday—even if it isn’t direct—that your mind is like no other, and that anybody would be blessed to have you

you both think it's always going to be like this

with you struggling to keep your feelings from showing

and hyunjin battling his inner demons

and those left to perceive the “discreet” ogling across the room and the hidden yearning in your voices are none other than (you guessed it!) felix and ryujin 🤩

it was funny the first few months

but now it’s just plain frustrating and they want nothing more than to bash your two oblivious heads together because y’all !! are !! idiots !!

no matter how much they persist, they’re always met with either a sad, gentle smile with a shake of the head or a monotonous “ha. you’re really funny.”

both have considered dropping your asses but they can’t because they love y’all too much

so all they can do is hope for a change

and change does indeed arrive when september rolls around

dance practice has just ended and hyunjin feels hyped because it’s movie night and he can’t wait to cry to kimi no na wa again

and lowkey stare at you for the entirety of the film

he exits his dance crew’s studio and is about to go straight to 7/11 for snacks when he spots the team’s newest recruit by the road, waiting for a ride home

hwang yeji’s only moved here two months ago and in a short span of time she’s already become one of the well-liked kids at school

but she’s a kind & humble sweetheart who deserves all the love & attention !!

so being the good sport he is, hyunjin approaches yeji with the brightest grin, having only talked to her a few times prior

“hey, there! yeji!” when the girl turns to him, her smile looks and feels like liquid sunshine. “waiting for your date?”

yeji turns rosy when he asks, like she does when everyone teases her about her special someone, who she’s been crushing on for weeks and who she finally had the courage to ask out. “c’mon, stop that. i don’t even know if they like me like that—they probably think it’s just another friendly date.”

“they’re a fool if they don’t end up liking you after, then,” hyunjin quips, hoping the bitterness doesn’t seep into his tone and wishing he has half the luck and strength yeji has, and she laughs.

“you know them, actually.”

“oh?”

“yeah! y/n l/n?”

oh.

o h

hyunjin can only blink at her dumbly, feeling like a thousand arrows are digging into his skin

you… with hwang yeji?

is that why you asked about her the other day? because you like her back? and that her feelings are far from being one-sided?

watching a dark cloud loom over his features, yeji thinks about asking if he’s okay when he blurts out an inaudible excuse as he walks away, zooming past the convenience store when he does

when he heads off he doesn’t even look at where he’s going, relying solely on muscle memory

he feels like he wants to grow smaller, biting his lower lip and clenching his hands into fists

he doesn’t even know why he’s upset

you were never his to lose

why would he regret what couldn’t be in the first place?

when his feet instinctively halt in front of miroh café, all he can do is stare blankly at the glass doors, at your figure behind the counter

but he wills himself to move away again, and when he does he clashes with another body

“hey, watch where you’re... hyunjin?”

ryujin stares at him with her mouth half agape, and she flinches when she sees his eyes glistening, his face flushed with the shade of pure heartbreak

“did you know about them?” he’s afraid to raise his voice, because doing so would mean there’s no stopping his emotions, “about… y/n and yeji?”

the lack of response provides the answer, and hyunjin walks away from the block

that afternoon, a cup of coffee with his name scrawled on the front went forgotten on the countertop

that evening, hyunjin doesn’t show for your monthly tradition for the first time in five years

you spend the rest of your evening obsessively checking your phone for text from him, wracking your brain for reasons he couldn’t come

of course, there are multiple reasons: like schoolwork (you are seniors, after all) and the upcoming dance competition

but you know he would text you over the slightest inconvenience, so why isn’t he saying a thing?

you rack your brain for anything you might’ve done, and your chest tightens when you think that maybe—just maybe—he’s finally caught on to you

you try to distract yourself with other thoughts as you lie wide awake in your bed: like your midterm exams, the nearing debate tournament… your date with yeji

bright, splendid hwang yeji who shares the wittiest jokes in biology and has the most colorful personality around

the first time you spent time with her she made you smile so wide it made your cheeks hurt

her laugh is the loveliest one you’ve ever heard; like dewy lavender fields beneath the spring sunshine

but every time you hear it you’re reminded that it isn’t hyunjin’s laugh, that you aren’t with him and every time you realize it you wanna cry

bc yeji’s been nothing but sweet and considerate this whole time and you’re more than guilty at the fact that all her attentions will be wasted because of you and your stupidity

you barely escape the wrath of crying yourself to sleep when you finally doze off when the clock hit two am

the next day at school, you both barely even make eye-contact

even the underclassmen who’ve heard the frequent calls of your names feel uneasy when they don’t hear hyunjin’s high-pitched voice or your shrill tones

felix especially, who’s experienced the trauma of sitting in between you two at history and feeling the tension that nearly chokes him

you’re more than terrified to look at him at him in the eye, terrified that once you do you’ll realize he doesn’t gaze at you the same way anymore

something inside hyunjin aches every time he spares you a glance, because every time he does it’s painfully obvious that he’s always been hopeless

in all honesty, hyunjin wouldn’t have shown his face at all if it weren’t for the tiny thread of patience inside ryujin snapping

so here he is, inside miroh a quarter before closing time

felix’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees him, so he sends a pointed look to his coworker,

“what did you do?” he murmurs. ryujin’s eyes are sharp when she looks at him, and he feels his blood run cold.

“what i needed to.”

no, she didn’t threaten to kill his entire family, if that’s what you’re wondering

she merely gave him… a warning

so one can imagine the surprise you feel when you emerge from the staff room, and felix drags ryujin outside to give you privacy

you both remain silent once they’re gone, neither one of you moving in place

until quiet words escape your mouth, and the familiar greeting makes hyunjin’s heart clench:

“hey, you.”

he doesn’t make a sound, so you continue, the tension heavy

“you owe me three dollars, by the way. i just wasted a perfectly good iced latte with the other day when you didn’t…”

when you trail off, hyunjin opens his mouth to let out an apology, and he realizes with a start that the words tumbling out are completely different:

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“what?”

“why didn’t you tell me about yeji?” hyunjin’s eyes begin to quiver when they meet yours, “we’re best friends, aren’t we?”

your jaw tightens, i told you. best friends. nothing more. “because you worry too much about everything; if i’d told you about us then you’d—”

“y/n, we’ve been together for a decade!” hyunjin intervenes, “we’re always going to worry about each other, whether you like it or not. and this— this is… i…”

every coherent thought vanishes as hyunjin grapples for more things to say. he knows he’s being selfish, undoubtedly so, but he wants you. he wants you so, so bad. the fight in him leaves until, eventually, all that’s left to say is the truth: “please, don’t go. don’t go… with her.”

your heart is close to breaking your ribcage when you stare at his face, you wait for him to say anything, to justify why he’s said it, but when the quiet settles, all you can see is red

“this is why i don’t tell you about these things,” you grit, trembling violently. “when i do, you say— say stuff that make me believe that you feel the same way i do when you actually don’t.

“and i hate you so much but in the end it’s all my fault because i’m the idiot who caught feelings for their best friend and—”

hyunjin doesn’t let you add anything else, because his lips are on yours and you’re overwhelmed with the feeling of him, him, him

the kiss doesn’t leave any room for doubt; he’s shaking, and his legs might give out, but he wants you to know that everything he feels is real

you’re both gasping for air when you pull away, but his hands still linger on your face and he traces the edge of your mouth, and you can do nothing but pull him closer by the waist

“still hate me now?” he asks, and you chuckle breathlessly, putting your forehead on his.

“yes, very much so,” you look at him tenderly, and he yelps when you pinch him gently, “this is all on you, y’know. if it weren’t for your godforsaken romcoms, we wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“but if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have ended up with a boyfriend, amirite? ow, shit— i’m kidding!”

bonus!

“oh, thank fuck,” felix exhales, looking through the windows one more time before ambling beside ryujin, who looks pleased with herself as she places her apron on the crook of her elbow. “so, spill: what did you tell hyunjin?”

she smiles, “i told him not to give up before he’s even tried anything; sometimes, there are people who are worth taking that risk for.”

just as felix is about to commend her for sounding the most wholesome he’s heard her, she adds: “and i threatened to revoke my tutelage—his ass is failing calculus so hard.”

[dandelion-person]

You know, I absolutely adore playing as a dwarf. I have a heartfelt connection to them. But aside from my personal preference, I find the character development to be wonderful. In Origins, when you play as a noble, my favorite part about the backstory in general is how warden develops. He/she starts as royalty, some wonderful person who very well may absolutely hate being rich. Hates the way they are looked at, but knows no other way. Someone who does their duty unquestioning and loyally. Who thinks of battle as something as simple as dusting the house. Perhaps they are even in a forbidden love with their second. These things: hiding relationships, knowing your death is tangible on any given day be it by darkspawn or relatives, never getting to be seen as a simply normal dwarf, are just a normal part of life. Until everything changes. And you’re thrown into this world that is ever so bright and scary. Something totally different. And you, young warden, are so practiced in the ways you have lived that people often mistake you for being callous. Monotone. Unfazed. They’re not wrong. At this point, it takes a lot to rattle you. But this is your life now. And you must learn.

I love thinking about the various situations Aeducan finds themselves in. Stumbling out of the deep roads barefoot into the wardens, who are visibly shocked, battering you with questions that should have been comforting, only to be so numb and hardened that the only thing you can muster is a very formal “it is good to see you again, Duncan.”

Then, meeting Alistair, watching the conversation with a mage and apparently something to do with these odd human religions and traditions with the most resting bitch face imaginable. As is your habit. You’ve grown accustomed to never showing emotion. Dwarves are accustomed to battle and honor and tradition, not emotion. And Alistair, thinking you’re offended or something and you simply replying with “You must be Alistair.” You didn’t mean to sound so scary, wow.

Then Duncan, briefing you on your joining tasks, and you, switching automatically into army general mode, asking the strategies and alternative solutions should problems arise. Duncan finds himself smiling internally. Your level head will surely balance Alistair’s emotional panic in the future.

On to Morrigan. These humans never cease to amaze you. She has nearly no clothing on. How can she survive a battle? None of this shows on your face of course. The never changing diplomatic hardened expression masks your internalized thoughts. It is at times a blessing, not allowing others to see your confusion and fear and curiousity as you learn this new world.

Battle at first is a bit distracting. You’re caught off guard by the fear and disgust the other recruits show. It’s as if they’ve never seen darkspawn...but wait. They haven’t. And you’re reminded again of your people (of whom will never speak of you again) who have faced these monsters for centuries. You find yourself wondering if these humans had experienced the hug of their mother. Harmless games with their fathers. Bonding with their siblings. You consider your own personal family life. You suppose in your own dwarven ways, your family had been very close. But you know if you were to ever try to explain that to these humans, that your version of bonding with your brothers had been training so harshly and brutally that you had sometimes had to spend days in the medicinal wing, they would think you a monster or a war machine. Perhaps...perhaps that’s what you are.

Then waking up in the hut. A pounding headache and intense body pain. You shift into automatic response. Is my duty completed? Are my men safe? What must be done to finish the assigned task. You walk outside to find Alistair. Who expresses some strange sort of gratitude, for what you don’t understand. You consider that humans take death very personally. Death is not something humans are ready and willing to face at any moment. How strange. You think your face must display some sort of confusion, because you swear you see Alistair give a small sad smile. Almost like he’s pitying you. The very look of it makes your stomach turn. Pity is for the weak.

Then there’s Leliana. The most odd creature you’ve found yourself encountering in this new strange land where the sky seems like it can swallow you. She speaks of some man in the sky. You presume a human. She has tried to explain it to you, but it makes no sense. Your body will one day return to the stone from which it came...but then you think further. Perhaps you won’t be returned to the stone. You’ve been exiled. There is no longer somewhere for you to go after you die. For the first time in your life, dying in battle doesn’t seem like a desirable choice.

Sten, oh Sten. Sten quickly becomes one of your most trusted companions. You and him understand each other. Sten is not blinded by emotion and vengeance. Sten exists. And you can appreciate that. Sten has a purpose. Long ago, you were a lot like Sten. Now, you have no idea of your purpose. This world confuses you. You take each day as it comes. Something you’re not used to and find quite annoying. You do not know what to expect. The one thing you can appreciate though, is duty. Duty you took upon yourself. You pride yourself in it really. For the first time, you are doing something that you chose to do. Something not assigned to you. Something you control. It is comforting, and when you look at the sky and grip your toes into the ground so it doesn’t swallow you, you think of this one piece of your culture that will always stay with you: your duty. Sten helps you realize this. And with Sten, you find yourself talking strategy. In some ways, Sten reminds you of Trian. In other ways, Gorim. You cherish Sten. He is a rock in this strange floating bright world.

Then comes Zevran. One of the first elves you’ve ever spoken to in depth actually. Among the first you’ve ever encountered. You find yourself considering him almost to be charming? The word sounds foul to you. He’s a piss poor rogue. Of this you know. At first you find him rather annoying? Almost angering? A piss poor rogue and an even poorer assassin, he turns his back on his duty immediately. You find his desire to avoid death deplorable. But for some reason, the idea of killing him (for the first time in your life mind you) strikes you as being morally wrong. Why? You weren’t sure. Perhaps it was your vacancy for tendencies of vengeance. You did not even seek to kill Bhelen after all. Bhelen had simply done what any dwarf would’ve, had they been smart enough. Bhelen’s act did not provoke hard feelings. You still loved him even. Your little brother had grown into an outstanding noble and you could not deny that. He had simply beaten you at a game. Once again, if you expressed this opinion to your human companions after they learned your story, they considered you to be insane. Apparently, vengeance is a common thing amongst humans. Humans, you feel, are incapable of accepting that which they do not enjoy. You find this odd. Relating back to Zevran, Zevran is not human. And though he acts nothing like the odd elves from the trees (the first trees you’d ever seen by the way), Zevran is refreshingly morally corrupt. The more you get to know him, the more he reminds you of your people. And this is comforting. He tells you of Antiva. Perhaps you even ask him if he will someday take you there. Maybe there would feel like home. It certainly sounds like the politics are the same. Zevran’s moral instability and cowardice are exactly what makes him so comforting. He makes you feel at home.

Sorry, I suppose those are just some ramblings/drabbles that go through my head when I play as a dwarf. Let me know if you’d like me to write any other background stories. I’ve played them all. The way my brain can spin their personalities and character development affects the way I build each character. I’d love to share more if anyone liked this!

PS: I have played all 3 games. The only backstory I haven’t played so far is the Qunari and it will have to wait because I just upgraded from 360 to One and now I have to buy another inquisition.

[dottiechan]

Tempest (Pt. 1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5  

Read on AO3

Pairing: Ava Du Mortain x f!Detective

Wordcount: 1950

Warnings: gay pining, denial of romatic feelings none

Summary: Ava waits for the private detective to arrive while pondering their relationship. (1890s AU)

A/N: I am plagued by the late Victorian AU and Miss Du Mortain, so this happened. I wrote the detective as a female private detective, but other than that I have not specified any details about her. It also passes as a reader insert fic! (You can check out the full art here.)

Ava watches the grey sky as it persistently batters the window with rain, the small streaks on the glass pane casting lines on her handsome face that could be mistaken for tears by someone who doesn’t know her. Anyone who does know her knows that she’d sooner shed her blood than her tears. That is just the way she is. The way she likes to be thought of. The only way she is truly safe.

The heavens have let loose, and god is baring his teeth. And Ava just stands there, hands shoved in the pockets of her trousers, gazing out into the busy street as still and cold as the marble statues dotting the hallway. But only on the outside. Because inside of her, there is a storm to match the tempest that assails the city.

She is agitated the moment an image of her slips into her mind, and she begins chewing on the inside of her cheek when she realises that every minute the private detective isn’t in her sight, she is losing her mind. The nervous gesture is soon quelled by hundreds of years of self-discipline, and is replaced by her signature frown, lips pressed into a thin line, the muscles running along her jawbone tensing under her opaque skin. She is... mortal, she wants to think. Fragile. Unimportant. A job.

But she is also everything.

Which is why she must sever her ties to the woman before the job is over, otherwise the eternity to come will turn into hell on earth without her. Ava deserves hell, she knows that. Not that she believes in the devil, but the sharpness of his pitchfork and the heat of hellfire are sensations not unfamiliar to her. Eternal damnation is just guilt and anger and fear hiding in Satan’s clothing. But she can’t even begin to assign words to the kind of torture a world without her would mean. Ava’s ever so logical mind paralyses in terror at the thought of existing in a time when she isn’t.

She inhales sharply - even brushing the surface of the topic causes so much pain to course through her whole being that she needs to focus on something else - anything else - to continue functioning. So she listens to Nate’s soothing voice as he discusses myths with the professor down the hall. She registers the footsteps of people mulling about the museum on the floor below, the idle chatter of ladies clad in expensive dresses, the booming voices of three men arguing over the origin of a painting in the first hall. She turns her piercing attention on the street now, listening to the sounds of horses and vendors and street urchins, feeling thankful to the steady rain for considerably dulling the sharp tang of the muddy streets in her nostrils. She pulls out her pocket watch then, the ticking matching her now once more steady heartbeat.

The detective isn’t late yet, though she has a feeling that she will be, with the rain clogging the streets with carriages and hansoms as it usually does, especially at such a lively hour in the late morning. Ava wonders what she will wear, how her hair will be styled. She wants the rain to kiss her face, she wants the wind to rake its fingers through her tightly pinned up hair and loosen some strands from their captivity. She wants the warmth of the museum building to engulf her once she steps inside, bringing a rush of blood to her cold cheeks. She wants all this and more, for her own body must stay still for everyone’s sake, thus leaving her to live through the rain, and the wind, and the warmth of the radiators, her own fingers and lips and skin left yearning for a sensation she must deny herself.

Her daydreaming is cut short when two men pass her by, throwing her wide-eyed stares as they clutch their books to their chests and mutter quiet greetings to her. Students of the professor, no doubt, and shocked to their very core by the sight of a woman in trousers easily towering above them. It fills Ava with a savage sort of satisfaction before her insecurities - awakened by the private detective’s appearance in her life - creep up on her. It has never been particularly acceptable for a woman to wear men’s clothing throughout history, and 1896 is no exception. Then again, Ava has never been particularly bothered by this expectation, so it has all been well. Until now, when she begins to wonder if the detective likes this. She has commended her on her bravery before, and agreed with her choice of clothing because of its practicality, but that is hardly an admission of approval or attraction. And besides, she seems to favour dresses herself, even if she is nowhere nearly as extravagant or tightly laced as the dames of the decade. Admittedly, the detective’s pulse always picks up when they speak, especially alone, and her pupils are blown when she catches her staring but...

“I’ve got what we came for... and more,” Nate speaks with quiet excitement as he stalks up to her by the window, and Ava forces herself to look at her friend, hands balling into fists in her pockets. She had been so absorbed in thoughts of the private detective that she almost didn’t notice Nate at all until he reached her.

Pathetic. She needs to focus.

There’s a supernatural on the loose, murdering in the streets of London, and she is thinking about whether or not a mortal woman likes her choice of clothing. She takes the folder Nate hands her, and pries it open to reveal several new pages filled with his neat handwriting. At least their initial hunch has been correct - they’re definitely something corporeal that can pass off as a human, and now thanks to Nate’s research, they’re all but confirmed to have come from Scandinavia originally. And yet it doesn’t help her ease her mind that she knows what they could possibly be - after all, they’re out for the detective by the Agency’s estimate.

“Could it be a dark elf?” she mutters, blonde brows furrowed as she skims through the pages.

“Dökkálfar. My thought exactly,” her friend nods, pleased that Ava has come to the same conclusion.

“Haven’t seen one of those in... well, in a very long time.”

Nate’s shoulders sag a little as his initial enthusiasm ebbs. “I suppose we are about to face one again.”

She wants to reprimand Nate for forgetting the real objective of their mission - it’s protection, after all, not hunting down a rogue. But she thinks of the detective again, a woman so unique and individualistic in a world that tries so hard to oppress her along with her ambitions, and she knows she won’t be able to rest until the threat to her life is no more. It’s her duty, she reasons meekly against the swell of affection filling her chest and pushing against her skin, threatening to crack the solid marble of her stoic facade. But she knows a lie when she hears one. She suddenly thinks of last year, Paris, the Louvre. Nike of Samothrace. The statue of the Winged Victory. Headless, and yet still the symbol of triumph. She has lost her common sense ever since she started working with the detective, but she knows she must win as well, because if she fails... Well, she dare not even think about the consequences it would have on her.

And above all, she must remain as cold to the touch as that carefully carved block of marble.

“I wish we could tell her,” her friend presses on gently, concern and guilt marring the edges of the soft curve of his long lips.

“It’s better this way. Safer,” she croaks, hating the way her voice softens and breaks mid-sentence.

“Safer for whom, I wonder?” Nate sighs, taking the folder Ava hands him and closes it with delicate fingers before leaning against the wall next to her. She hasn’t even realised she sought to support of the wooden panelled hallway until Nate mimicked her movement absent-mindedly.

“What do you mean?”

“Safer for her...” he sighs before glancing at Ava with sad eyes, “or safer for us?”

She averts her eyes, her long ignored self-loathing clawing its way up from the deepest pits of her mind before she clenches her jaw. “For all parties involved.”

But mostly for me, she admits to herself inwardly. The lie obscures her true nature, and she revels in it for once. She doesn’t know what she’d do if the detective flinched away from her in fear instead of being drawn to her like a moth to a flame in the middle of a heavy summer night. For the past 800 years, she thought of herself as nothing but an agent, an element operating in the shadows, making the world a less dangerous place. She hunted her emotions and burned them at the stake, but this witch hunt can only go on for so long without consequences. She always thought of herself as a vampire first and foremost, her base nature being a bloodthirsty monster, but she was human before that. And she’s never felt more human than now. Probably not even when she actually was one.

And that is a terrifying thought to live with, especially when its source is so easily pinpointed. Her. It’s all on her.

“So we lie once more?” Nate sighs, breaking the silence and drawing her attention outwards once more.

“Yes,” she states firmly, the word feeling strangely sour in her mouth. “We tell her this was a dead end. She doesn’t need to know anything else. The Agency, on the other hand, needs to be brought up to speed. Will you do it?”

“I’ll brief them,” Nate nods, pushing himself away from the wall before straightening down his coat. “I suppose that leaves you with watching her?”

“Yes,” Ava speaks through gritted teeth, ignoring the heat crawling up her neck at the thought of being alone with the woman. Her reaction to the detective is unbearable, and yet she brings it upon herself like a masochist inviting the pain. She doesn’t understand why she does it, and yet she has no will to stop.

A nod, retreating footsteps, and Nate is no longer to be seen or heard, not even by her eyes and ears. She slips out her watch from her pocket once more and flips the silver lid open - she is late. Her heartbeat turns into a wild galloping crescendo when she hears a familiar voice on the street though, her heart’s rhythm no longer matching the steady ticking of the pocket watch as it did before.

Ava stares as she exits the hansom with a graceful ease that should be categorised as a criminal offence, wet pieces of stray hairs sticking to her delightful face as she rushes across the street with a purpose that almost leaves her breathless.

She wants to catch the killer, she tells herself. That’s all she wants and nothing more.

Yet as she moves swiftly towards the staircase, unable to wait for her in one place, and wanting, no, needing to see her as soon as possible, deep down Ava hopes the detective is just as eager to be with her as she is.

And then at the very last moment, right before they’re about to come face to face, she schools her features into a blank expression, a great lie of a tabula rasa, her face hardening like sculpted marble - commanding, ancient, beautiful, but so, so cold.

[edward-andalasia]

--- Edward’s Back to Uni Look

Inspiration: Since arriving in the real world, Edward has been fascinated by the various influences of the town itself, and this isn’t his first Fall in existence, he actually arrived in the world during the autumn, but this is the first one he actually has the freedom to do what he wants. Returning to Uni is a given, his friends are there, and Edward does tend to take cues for his wardrobe from both Barbie’s direction and Devyn’s stray notions, although lately the latter has factored in more as he isn’t depending on Barbie to do all his shopping for him.  He also, granted, still sticks somewhat to the aesthetic colors that he prefers from home; softer, fantasy related tones rather than harsher ones, so even the Fall for him is more about softer reds, creams, oranges and tans more than brighter tones. Edward actually has a much stronger eye for color and how to use it and put things together than he realizes, even if his preferences can be a bit all over the place.  He very much enjoys the muted colors in the autumn and that reflects in his wardrobe returning to Uni. (which...to be fair Edward never actually left campus since he lives there, but technically he’s just returning to classes now)

And this year he has a plan, sort of! Or at least a major, finally, after his interest in theater was sparked by the summer musical in town; who knows if it’ll stick or not but he’s trying to be an actual student this year and actually go to classes.

1. Distressed sweater

Because frankly Edward’s clothes already suffer during his random excursions, as he really has no impulse control when it comes to potential adventures, so starting out that was almost makes more sense. He’s recently discovered the wonderfully comfortable idea that is worn-in clothing, as that wasn’t really a thing back in his home; messy attire or things that weren’t lavishly ornate just for the sake of being so. As much as he does miss some of his royal finery at times he really can’t deny that there is something entirely pleasant about just warm, comfortable clothes. Plus his favorite colors are shades of pink/peach so salmon fuzzy soft sweaters? Perfect.

2. Bohemian Rainbow shirt.

Normally he’d go for the usual rainbow colors but it being fall, why not? The vibe is about the same either way; still cheerful! And it works great showing through those frayed spots. It actually took him some time to adjust to t-shirts, even button-ups weren’t quite the same as the style of dress he used to know as common, but whoever came up with the idea of clothing being less complicated really did the real world a favor. Plus layers, he loves layers.  Summer seems like more of a time for brighter colors, earth tones feel more like Fall, and Edward actually recognizes that, his interest in fashion has started to show more on its’ own without needing Barbie to guide him. 

3. Earrings

Edward has gathered a few piercings during his time in the real world, because it is nearly a fairytale princely habit to want to adorn himself in shiny things, his ears being his favorite spot. He owns far too many earrings of nearly every design, and is constantly distracted by new ones, it’s always just a given as a part of any look for him. He nearly always wears a gold rose stud in one ear, something that feels like a connection to home for him, and the other varies but is always some manner of dangling variety because he loves the mismatched contrast of the two styles.

4. Bohemian Rainbow Socks

Because they match his t-shirt, of course, and they’re warm and fuzzy. All things that are very dire when it comes to socks, yes, as Edward has discovered. Do people even see your socks? Not usually. But given the opportunity to wear socks that match the rest of his clothes, absolutely, Edward considers that practically a goal.  And they match, which is an accomplishment for him some days because he really isn’t very organized and similar colors is usually good enough for him when it comes to figuring out socks. He does have some strange ones though, mostly via gifts from people. 

5. Black, Orange and Salmon Dyed Scarf

It’s not that cold yet, but it does look nice and Edward does tend to overdo it a little with most things; but it’s one of his favorite scarves! So obviously he has to wear it his first day of classes, right? Said scarf was one of the first things that caught his eye when he started shopping around town himself, so it does make an appearance often in his Fall wardrobe. It’s another of those clothing articles that he attaches some degree of emotion to because it reflects that step into being more capable on his own; going into a year where he is seeing things as more possible, more lasting it’s a reminder that he’s more of a real person now than he used to be.

6. Black and White Jeans

He doesn’t really have any jeans that are just plain, most of his clothes are either ornate by design or end up being more so by intention and effort; the boy doesn’t own a pair of just regular jeans. And black isn’t a common color in his wardrobe, unless it’s with a purpose. And these were an adventure in bleaching and painting! So that makes them better; his first venture into altering his own clothing and a moderately successful one. Like many things for Edward, it can be blamed on either Youtube or Tiktok. Another art project with his roommate that Edward adores now and wears often.

7. Messenger Bag

Can’t really navigate classes without something to carry your stuff, and in his case the copy of his story that helps him keep track of how fast his curse is progressing and reminds him of home. Edward’s bag is fairly plain, not really much different than what most people carry, but also paint splattered from being too close at times to Devyn’s projects in their shared dorm room. It’s his favorite thing about the bag. It also has, at any given time, a rotating collection of keychains or other trinkets that have caught his eye at time.  He still hasn’t gotten around to asking Devyn to actually paint on it for him, but he will. 

8. Autumn Nails

Since he paints his nails often when he and Devyn talk in the afternoons, he’s gotten very good at it. He loves watching videos online to learn new techniques, quite enamored with all the creative things people do and what he can teach himself along the way. A habit that came from just idle distraction, it’s become a hobby that Edward puts a great deal of time into; his nail change colors practically every few days, or at least once a week. Fall is a great excuse for bright oranges and glitter! Actually any time of the year is in fact an excuse for glitter for Edward, but the Fall is an excuse for metallic glitter even if he can’t really accomplish some of the more impressive things some people online do as his nails are rather short.

9. Black Rose Etched Belt with Floral Buckle

By now it’s probably clear that he likes roses and floral accents, that sort of dreamy aesthetic that goes with them. They remind him of the beautiful pale pink and golden rose bushes that grew wild around his castle back home that his mother so lovingly cultivated. He has a flare for the romantic tones to things. Naturally, he has a fondness for them and they usually do show up in most of his outfits somehow. The faux leather belt engraved with rose patterns, with it’s golden carved floral buckle, is just flashy enough to fit the look, and it does match his ear stud. 

10. Black and Orange Sneakers

Personally, Edward prefers boots, as that was for the most part all that existed back home and adventuring did of course require the proper attire when it came to footwear. One can’t climb rocky cliffs and go exploring the kingdom if they don’t have something to hold up to the task. He did learn last year that running around campus, while not as grueling, is made far easier with sneakers, so he’s willing to make that trade-off, occasionally as he isn’t doing much other adventuring these days beyond trying to figure out to passes those classes. However, if he’s going to do that, they have to look nice, and match his clothes, obviously. 

[molkolsdal]

Pakistan's Transgender Community Is Hiding Out in a Hostile City

As Peshawar has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam, its community of transgender hijras has been increasingly marginalized.

By Beenish Ahmed, 16/05/2014 Photos by Abdul Majeed Goraya

"My father used to beat me and ask, 'Why do you have to go around pretending to be a girl?'"

Now at 35, she says her cheeks burn and fists tighten if anyone refers to her as a man.

Khushboo, whose name means fragrance, classifies herself as a hijra, a South Asian gender designation that encompasses transgender and transexual people, as well as transvestites and eunuchs.

She has a different definition for herself and the estimated hundreds of thousands of other hijras across the region. "Our souls are female and our bodies are male," she says, dipping a rag into a red plastic pail filled with a chalky mixture of water and face powder. Surrounded by a group of several other hijras in a room they call their "office," Khushboo smears the dripping rag over her face and adds, "I've known I was a hijra since I was a child."

She used to wear her sisters' clothes. At 16, Khushboo slipped out of the house in one of their outfits and didn't return home for years. Along with another hijra, she settled in Peshawar, a city in northwestern Pakistan one night's drive from the costal city of Karachi where she'd grown up.

Peshawar has long been home to cultural traditions that insist on strict gender segregation, and the city has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam in recent years. These intolerant, conservative beliefs are made brutally clear through the bombings and shootings that are now near-weekly occurrences. Taliban suicide bombers killed 85 worshippers at a church there last September, and militants killed thirteen people at a cinema showing pornographic movies in February. Lesser attacks are momentary blips on local news coverage featuring bloodied streets and blaring sirens.

Khushboo points to battered doors and broken windows around her. She says young men—"college boys" she calls them—wreak havoc on her and fellow hijras who are preparing for a dance performance later that night. Sometimes the men recite scripture and beat the hijras to shame them out of their profession as dancers, and other times they force them to dance or even rape them, she tells me.

Despite the extremism that has only further marred the city since her arrival nearly 20 years ago, Khushboo has an affinity for Peshawar because it's where she had a sort of rebirth as her new self.

Free from the abuse of her father and brothers, as well as the sense of dishonor she felt on behalf of her mother and sisters, Khushboo embraced a new life of openness—and was adopted into a new family.

"In this field we have mothers. We have gurus. We have uncles and aunts," she says, and then points to a girl who's rolling a spliff in the corner of the room. "She's my daughter. I'm a daughter of someone so she has a grandmother too. And," Khushboo adds, "She also has a father."

That last bit comes so quickly that I almost miss it. I inquire further about the girl's "papa" and Khushboo says, "Her father is married to someone else, but he loves me." She then goes on to explain what their relationship entails—and it's all very practical until it gets utterly tragic: "If I'm sick, he comes by and brings me medicine," she says proudly. "If I don't have money he drops some cash off. If I die, it's this man who will dress me up as a man and take my body to his house to carry out the cemetery. He might not explain the full story and just say that I was killed in the market or that there was some kind of shooting, but he's the one who will take care of the funeral."

I can't help but think that this grim possibility is one that Khushboo has discussed with her "husband"—and one that he too has come to terms with.

"In Pakistani society, there is a really strong [sense of] place and family," says Dr. Jamil Ahmad Chitrali, a professor of anthropology. "There is no alternative for anyone."

Based at the University of Peshawar, Chitrali has written about the city's hijra community. He says that by forging the same sorts of familial connections that they left behind, hijras create a social order that mimics the very society from which many of them fled.

"It's forcing all those revolutionary individuals who are against those binaries of man and woman to come into a structure which is reaffirming patriarchy," he says.

Pakistan's hijras have made some strides in recent years despite their rather isolated existence. In 2012, the Pakistani Supreme Court allowed for a "third gender" category to be added to national identity cards, which effectively gave hijras increased legal standing. It's because of this broader recognition that hijras could vote in that year's presidential election—at least five hijras even ran for office.

But the third gender classification has made little practical difference in Khusbhoo's life. "We live in a third world," she says, the difference between her life and that of a cisgender person just as stark as the difference between life in Pakistan, and say, Monaco.

And, she says, no matter what she does, she'll always be seen as different.

"Even if I give up dancing, everyone will still call me a hijra so what's the point? Why not do what I love?" She adds that even if she were to become a traveling evangelist, her family would still regard her with the same disdain. "I'm better off staying a hijra."

And that's the hardest thing that Khushboo has to face: her family. She got back in touch with them after five years of not speaking, and goes to see them in Karachi at least once a year. But when she does, she goes dressed as a man.

Though she moves about as a woman in Peshawar, Khushboo wears a black floor length, full-sleeved robe (or abaya), and a face covering (or niqab) that reveals only her eyes to hide herself from prying eyes. Even so, she's been thrown out of several houses by people who fear hijras will ruin their neighborhood.

While they occupy a marginalized space across Pakistan, hijras are probably worst off in Peshawar. In all of the other major cities in the country, they are frequent sites at traffic intersections or in shopping centers where they offer a prayer for a few rupees. Many passersby fear denying them might mean a curse and so will either oblige quickly or turn away completely.

I've spent a lot of time in Peshawar over the years, and have never seen hijras out in public the way they are in other cities. After speaking with Professor Chitrali, I learned that might be because hijras have a different role in the Pathan society that dominates the Peshawar area. In this part of the country, hijras aren't seen to have some sort of greater spiritual connection than cisgender people—instead, their role is celebratory. They're often asked to sing and dance at weddings and births.

"It's their performance which gives [a family] social recognition," Chitrali says, though the tradition is fading as weddings move from family houses into wedding halls. Some might have other professions—Khushboo says she has hijra friends who are lawyers and pilots and act cisgender in order to maintain their jobs, though they're free to "be themselves" with her and other hijras. Due to a lack of societal acceptance, many hijras live marginalized lives as low-income entertainers, but they've got a bit of a role as educators, too. Hijras sometimes teach—or even initiate—young men into sex. For many in Peshawar who live by strict religious and cultural codes that denounce almost any pre-marital interaction between the sexes as sinful, hijras provide a sort of in-between, or a "cushion," as Chitrali calls it.

"If you cross the domain of manhood into womanhood, that is against the culture, that is crossing your limits. But you can always move into the gray area, so this hijra community, in that sense, in a clear binary of man and woman among Pathans, [forms] a gray area." But he says that this "learning experience" is becoming less common with such how-to's readily available on the internet.

In Peshawar's increasingly religiously-motivated milieu, the presence of hijras—be they dancers or sex workers—is frowned upon and politicians vie for favor by pushing them out of their homes and worksites.

Seeing this, Malik Iqbal says he wanted to do something. "I sympathize with them because no one gives them any space," he tells me.

He rents out the office that Khusboo and her fellow hijras use to prepare for their dances.

"I didn't used to be on their side," Iqbal says. "Now I help them. I say they're humans too. We should have some empathy for that reason. Not just me, everyone should empathize with them as people."

But some believe Iqbal's connection to hijras goes beyond a shared humanity. Though he refuses to speak about it, Iqbal was arrested in 2010 for attempting to marry a hijra called Rani. Such a union would be illegal under Pakistani law, which only recognizes marriages between men and women. He has repeatedly denied the charge and claimed that police were trying to extort money from hijras at an event that wasn't a marriage but an innocent birthday party. Either way, the shock the story garnered reveals just how far removed everyday Pakistanis are from the hijra community. A big-grossing film called Bol, or Speak—released in 2011—may have helped some, but real connections like Iqbal's remain few.

And not everyone in close proximity to hirjas is sympathetic. Noor Illahi, who owns a grain shop down the street from the hijras' office, doesn't have a problem with the hijras themselves or even their work, but thinks they should find some other place to go. "My work has suffered because of them. The other storeowners and I, we think they should be given some place off to the side. It should be separate."

He's worked in his store for 15 years and says that sales have dropped fifty percent since the hijras set up shop next door a few years ago. "There are a lot of fights here now. They create quite a scene sometimes."

The raucousness has driven away his customers. Those who stop in the area are more interested in the hijras than the sacks of flour he has for sale.

"I'm not personally offended by them. But look," he says, pointing to a group of several white shalwar kameez-clad men loitering outside the hijra's building. "These poor people have earned just three or four hundred rupees all day ($3-4) and they'll come here and waste it all on them."

The men are all rickshaw drivers. One by one, they go on the record to deny being there to solicit sex. "We're just here to chit chat with them," one says while peering over his shoulder to see if any of the hijras have come out into the alley. "It's a totally innocent relationship that we have with them."

Back up in the hijras' office, the lights have gone out as a part of the rolling power outages that have frustrated Pakistanis for years. It might be another hour before they're ready to leave for their performance. When they do, they'll be cloaked in massive shawls and under the cover of night.

[fanfic-inator795]

Oneshot: Movies and Mermaids

((Have some Mikey and Draxum bonding *throws confetti*))

It wasn’t as if Draxum had any genuine interest in human culture, certainly not! He could care less! ...Though, his obvious lack of caring didn’t prevent certain annoyances.

Like how he would be sometimes be completely lost in certain conversations. A member of the faculty at the high school would ask if he had seen the latest film in theaters and if he liked it better than the remake, or how his fellow lunch servers would reference certain shows and encourage him to watch them as well - Gladys especially seemed entranced with a show regarding doctors all dating each other in-between doing their actual jobs, for whatever reason.

The rest of the city seemed to only aggravate him more. From displays and the videos that would play on the large screens on towers, to the advertisements he saw on the television box or in magazines. It just seemed like everything he saw in human culture was a reference to something or someone - a laundry list of names and shows and movies and jokes and even what were supposedly ‘simple’ concepts like technology and brands and lingo and-!

After over two months of living on the surface, Draxum had reached his limit. He was tired of constantly being confused. He was tired of constantly missing or misunderstanding the references.

He was tired of being reminded that this was not his world, that he was still a yokai in human clothing.

So naturally, as a man of science, Draxum thought it only made sense to start with some research. Granted there was an entire pantheon that he would have to go through, and without the power of the ‘internet’ and a television box that only had five channels, it would be a incredibly slow process... At the very least, O’Neil had said that she would help him get a human library card when they both had a free afternoon. 

In the meantime, Michelangelo had plenty of ‘reference material’, and even with the insistence that this was all for education and NOT entertainment, Draxum figured it was as good of a starting point as any, considering how much the humans seemed to admire their on-screen stories and their film stars. (No wonder Lou Jitsu was just as popular as an actor as he was as a warrior...)

It was late Friday night when Mikey showed up to Draxum’s apartment with a backpack full of movies of all different genres and formats and a VHS/DVD combo player tucked under his arm. “Good thing Donnie found this thing a few years ago, huh?” he said as he hooked it up.

Draxum didn’t bother replying. Instead, he was focusing on his choices for that evening - as well as for the rest of the week, since Mikey said he could borrow them as long as he needed to - pulling out each tape or DVD case and examining it carefully. Quite a few of them looked like they were for children, which he probably should have expected, though he didn’t dismiss them immediately.

“Don’t worry,” he heard Mikey said, “I remembered what you said. All of these are super popular ‘staples of human culture’ that practically everyone’s seen.”

“Good,” Draxum mumbled, putting aside a movie about a boat next to a movie about a boy gardener who wore a cloak and was apparently very harry. Picking up the next one, his expression flattened a bit at the cover. “This one you can take back, I don’t need to watch it.”

“Huh? Why- ohhh.” The box turtle chuckled as he took the tape, smiling at the younger version of his dad on the box. “Sorry, guess that one accidentally got slipped in there. Though to be fair, ‘Jitsu for Justice’ is a total classic.”

“Irrelevant,” Draxum huffed, “I have no desire to watch ANY of Lou Jitsu’s films, no matter how popular they may be. Once was more than enough...”

“Alright alright, I’ll- wait,” Mikey paused, “so you DID watch his movies?”

“Er, I- Not because I actually wanted to!” Draxum told him, “It was for research!” Mikey gave him a flat look. “He had stopped fighting in the Battle Nexus and I needed to study his moves! I-I didn’t enjoy doing it, if that’s what you’re implying! His movies were still ridiculous and completely unenjoyable! I would never actually-”

“Whatever you say, man,” Mikey shrugged, ignoring the Baron’s growls at being interrupted, “Though, how’d you watch ‘em anyway? I didn’t think that TV was that big of a thing down there?”

“I used my viewing orb to summon and display them, obviously,” Draxum told him, “Most yokai have them for when they need them, and they’re much more useful and clearer than any television box.”

“If you say so...” “Hmph.” With that settled, Draxum went back to digging through the bag of movies. It didn’t take long for another video to catch his eye, this one in a plastic case rather than a cardboard one, with a picture of a happy mermaid and an equally happy human plastered on it.

“Awwww!” Mikey said suddenly, “That was April’s favorite movie when she was little! Which meant it was one of the first movies she brought over to share with us! Heh, guess we borrowed it so often we forgot to give it back, whoops. But it’s a really good movie! See, there’s this mermaid who wants to live on land as a human, and she’s friends with a crab and-”

Draxum had begun to tune the turtle out as he continued to stare at the VHS case. Mermaids weren’t too common in the Hidden City itself, though that didn’t mean they weren’t there at all. The city was next to water, after all, and some would live on the shore or become part of an air-boat crew - and they certainly didn’t look like this.

He felt his thoughts start to swirl, becoming just as mixed as his emotions as a grimace began to form on his face. On one hand, Draxum supposed he should’ve been grateful that the humans were portraying a yokai positively - as cute and friendly instead of vicious creature that lived to drown humans. 

Centuries ago, before the Great Migration underground, Draxum had heard that and many other similar claims about his people... Baseless claims meant to justify hunts and attacking on sight...

On the other hand, did humans only see them as ‘harmless’ when used for entertainment purposes? Did they only approve of yokai existing when they only existed in fiction, where they could be used however humans saw fit? 

He was briefly reminded of the creatures - the ‘poke-o-mon’ - that he would occasionally see on shirts or on phones, creatures not directly based on yokai, but similar enough. He had to wonder how much other human entertainment was based on so-called fictional creatures and monsters that they never would have even smiled at before.

“-xum... Hey, Drax?” Mikey poked his bicep, making Draxum flinch. “You okay, bud-?”

“Fine,” Draxum snapped, though there was a little actual bite to it, “Just surprised that humans would portray a yokai so positively, even in fiction.”

“Most humans do think they’re just fiction,” Mikey told him. After a moment, his tone became a bit gentler, thinking back to certain points brought up by his father and April. “Though, I can still sorta see why that would feel weird or kinda insulting, seeing a fake version of yourself or your people and not knowin’ how they’d react to the real you, wondering if they would only like the fake you. That probably doesn’t feel the greatest... and I’m really sorry about that.”

Draxum blinked. He stared at the turtle for a few seconds before finally replying with, “You’re a lot more introspective than I would have thought.”

“I get that a lot,” Mikey grinned, “But hey, they don’t call me Dr. Feelings for nothing. So, did you wanna keep this one then, or- I mean, I can understand if-”

Draxum stopped him, looking at the tape again. “...I am admittedly curious,” he said, “You did say this was a movie humans watch as children.” Studying a species’ influences during adolescence could prove to be pretty useful in understanding the adults. “And besides, if the portrayal is truly offensive, I can always send a complaint to this ‘Walt Disney’ and demand certain edits.”

“Riiiiight, though I don’t think you’ll be too mad at this one,” Mikey told him, “Ariel is a great character, and all the other mermaids in the movie aren’t portrayed as jerks or anything. ...Well, one guy kinda is but, uh-”

“Let’s just watch it already,” Draxum told him, shoving the tape into his hand, “The sooner we start it, the sooner I can gauge whether or not it’s actually worth watching.”

Mikey smirked a little. “Heh, alright.” Opening the case, he pushed the tape in while Draxum went over to the couch they had gotten him at the thrift store, briefly checking it for bugs or lumps before sitting down. “Good thing it’s already rewound.”

The only annoying thing about that was that they had to sit through previews, though Mikey used that time to cook up some popcorn kernels that he had snagged on the way out of the Lair, easily cooking it using a pan and the stove top. (No one trusted Draxum with a microwave after That One Time.)

By the time he finished, the movie’s title had just faded onto the screen. Mikey smiled widely, the nostalgia from the music and the memories he had with the movie sending slight shivers up his shell. 

Draxum, meanwhile, was watching the film intently, taking in every detail. The mermaids in the film were still completely different than actual mermaids, but at least they weren’t an insulting caricature (even if they were a bit too human-like for his liking).

As it turned out, the main mermaid character was not only a bit of a collector and explorer, but also a human fanatic. “Ugh,” Draxum grumbled as he grabbed a couple more pieces of the puffed-up corn-snack. Mikey gave him a bit of a look, but he ignored it. Just because he had been able to find a bit of common ground and comradery with his fellow lunch servers didn’t mean he was willing to give ALL humans a pass.

At least the mermaid’s father seemed to have some common sense. In fact, Draxum found himself nodding in agreement with nearly every scene the mer-king was in. ...Up until a certain point, at least.

Mikey winced a bit as the scene began. He resisted the urge to go into his shell like he always had when he was little, but he did sink a little in his seat as Triton stepped out of the shadows. When he noticed Draxum glancing over at him, Mikey simply mumbled, “I always hate this scene...”

A couple minutes and a destroyed grotto later, and Draxum could sort of see what Mikey meant, understanding how Triton’s act might have been “harsh”, as the orange-wearing turtle would’ve put it.

As the movie moved onto the next seen, Mikey relaxed a little, though a frown remained on his face... However, his expression of sadness soon became one of confusion as he felt a hand pat the top of his head.

“Uh... there, there,” Draxum mumbled, giving Mikey one more head-pat before retracting his hand. It was awkward as all heck, they both knew it, but seeing the sheepman somewhat care about his feelings still made Mikey smile.

It didn’t take much longer for Ursula to make her appearance, and as soon as the Sea Witch began talking of deals and trades, Draxum gave a small smirk of his own.

“What?” Mikey asked, tilting his head a bit.

“I didn’t realize Big Mama was in this movie.”

Mikey snorted at that. “So what, you tell jokes now?”

The sheep-man shrugged as he grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Just making an observation,” he said simply. As the scene went on though, his mind made another small connection - Ursula’s two eels reminding him of his own pair of pets, even if Flotsam and Jetsam were much more confident than his former goyles.

Even so, the reminder made his chest ache a little... Not in sadness, mind you, or because he actually missed them. No, clearly his chest ached for a completely different reason that he was sure he’d think of later.

Once the little mermaid made the contract and silenced herself, the film very much became a literal ‘fish out of water’ story, complete with plenty of amusing moments featuring misunderstandings and an over-abundance of cuteness, as well as another musical number. Thankfully, before things became too saccharine, Ursula launched the second half of her plan to rule the seas.

After that, the movie moved pretty quickly through its third act. Draxum was a bit annoyed at the human prince being the one to ultimately save the day in the end, but overall he could agree that the ending was a pretty happy one.

As the credits rolled, Mikey looked at him with eyes wide. “Sooooo, what do you think?”

Draxum cupped his chin in thought, staying silent for a few moments before finally speaking. “...If the king’s trident had the power of transformation, why didn’t he just turn the prince into a merman?”

Mikey’s face fell. “...That’s what you got out of it?”

“It’s a valid question!” Draxum argued, “Why should she have to be the one to transform?”

“Because she wasn’t just after the guy!” Mikey told him, resisting the urge to facepalm, “You saw her collection and heard her song, she wanted to be human! She was tired of bein’ stuck in the same ocean and wanted something new - something she thought was cool!”

“Hmph, I suppose that’s true... Plus, she still has the option to turn back into a mermaid later on thanks to her father’s power, so at least there’s that.”

The box turtle slumped back on the couch, disappointed though maybe not too surprised. “I guess that means you didn’t really like it, huh?”

There was a long moment of silence. “I didn’t completely agree with the ending but... the film overall wasn’t too bad,” Draxum conceded, “Not as bad as I thought it’d be, at least?”

“...You really mean that?” Mikey asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t waste my time lying about something as trivial as animated human-entertainment,” Draxum replied, “And... there were high production values. Characters were mostly understandable, and it was... cute. Not too annoying or insufferable. Even if it was still slightly inaccurate to actual mermaids and mermen.”

“...You know what, I’ll take it. And I’m glad you enjoyed the movie, and not just for my sake.” With a bit of a ‘whup’, Mikey sat up and tucked his legs under his body in a sort of lotus position. “Though, now I’m kinda curious. What’d the movie get wrong, and what else can you tell me about merpeople? I only ever saw one, on Hueso’s brother’s ship, but that was only for like a second.”

This time, it was Draxum’s turn to give him a look. “Really... The child who’s always pushing me to ‘embrace humans’ and hide my ‘mystic stuff’ is asking me to teach him about a member of Yokaikind?”

“Hey, I only to tell you to hide your mystic stuff so you don’t get yourself evicted, fired or arrested,” Mikey retorted, “I’m not the one goin’ around mutatin’ kids and/or lunches and making giant stone heads angry.”

“...Fair enough,” Draxum said, only slightly reluctant.

“But as far as I can figure, there’s no harm in just talking about mystic stuff. And as for my actual interest... Yeah, I really do wanna know.” Unable to help himself, Mikey directed his gaze towards the floor - down towards the Hidden City that he knew was there. That he only now knew was there. 

He wouldn’t have traded his life with his dad in the sewers of NYC for anything, but he would’ve been lying if he said there wasn’t a small part of him that wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up around people that looked like him in a city full of magic.

“We protect humans, but we don’t like only humans, you know,” Mikey continued, “We’ve got other mutant friends, and yokai friends too.” His smile softened. “Senor Hueso and Sunita and the chefs I’ve met at Run of the Mill, they’re all so amazing. And I’ve only seen, like, a fraction of the Hidden City but I know that’s amazing too, and I just... This city - the surface - is always gonna be my home, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the other city or wonder about it.” 

He finally looked back at Draxum, his eyes firm. “So yeah... I wanna know.”

There was another moment of silence between them, though within it, the slightest bit of connection was formed. Small and fragile, but no less noticeable.

“...Fine,” Draxum finally agreed, “But pay attention, I don’t want to repeat myself later. First off, no merperson has the same skin tone as a human. They range between greens, blues and grays to help blend in with oceans. Their eyes are also much wider than a human’s to help them hunt.”

“Makes sense to me!” Mikey smiled, leaning back on his hands a little, though looking no less attentive. Even when the TV turned to quiet static, he kept his focus right on Draxum - a gesture the former warrior-scientist certainly appreciated, even if he didn’t say so outright.

“Merpeople are also able to survive outside of water. While mobility becomes an issue depending on how often they’re moving or traveling, they have no issues living on land - hence why some take to living on air-boats as a sort of compromise, plus it helps them travel across bodies of water in a shorter amount of time. They also don’t eat humans, despite the lies told about them, though they can be territorial when they are in the water - although you can’t blame them, especially if fish start to become scarce. Furthermore-”

It was sort of nice... Sure, Mikey had plenty he wanted to show and teach Draxum about humankind - and if all went well, then maybe there was a chance of Draxum having a change of heart. Maybe their technical creator wasn’t totally evil, and maybe one day, he really would be a better person and would understand what he and his family already knew. Mikey certainly hoped that would end up being the case...

But, in the meantime, maybe Mikey would end up learning a little from Draxum too. And honestly, as long as it wasn’t lecture series about ‘effectively destroying humans’ or anything like that, the orange turtle didn’t see anything wrong with that at all.

THE END

[queerpontmercy]

pick four characters and then roll a d4 for each of these numbers to determine which char to answer for: 1 4 5 6 17 22 24 26 39 27 51 57 60

tumblr did me so dirty but I finally got all of these in one doc, thank you <3 I decided to alternate between my Beam Saber pilots for character #4, so we have Solace “Trash Panda“ Altiora the infiltrator, and Dr. Finch Tandem, the officer/cat herder. Put under a cut because fuck this is so long...

What does Solace typically keep in his pockets?

I rolled a 3 for Leucien, but I already described his pockets, so...Solace is messy and generally keeps a tube of lipstick within easy reach, which means inevitably he’s also got a few tissues stuffed in a pocket from the last time he had to apply blot it. Other than that, he always has at least one knife on him, and that could feasibly be in a pocket. No, he’s not just happy to see you. 

Other than that, you know he’d never tell but honestly? I think he keeps his old prayer beads on his person, despite having left the Cenotaph both physically and spiritually. There’s something grounding about them: something organic in a world full of unforgiving machinery and vastly unknowable AIs, perhaps. It’s still soothing. Shut up. 

4. If Tanith was a work of art, how would you describe her?

This is such an interesting question for Tanith-- the most important bit for her would be that it’s something functional and beautiful, made lovelier still by use. A well-loved sea shanty with lyrics that keep time out on the water, a handsome medicine chest with fanciful carvings of beasts on each wooden panel…oooooh maybe a set of three nesting clay pots/jars! The first one is big and solid, rough gray-green with a fitted lid and decorations like barnacles and limpets, and below that is one with blue and brown glazes, pooling and mixing into each other, and the last (smallest) one is delicate and porcelain, almost opalescent from within where the light hits it, with the most simple, graceful curved shape It’s meant to house something rare and precious. 

5. How does Tanith express she’s comfortable?

She doesn’t like to sit in her emotions or thoughts, and spends a lot of time trying to transmute them into practical action. You’d know she’s comfortable if she let herself be still, taking in the world with quiet acceptance, and told you what was on her mind-- what she saw, or remembered, or was thinking about, without worry, just being. 

6. How does Fen express that they’re uncomfortable?

Fenestra argues about stupid shit-- pedantry in particular is such a refuge. Having a hill to die on helps her feel slightly in control, since feeling powerless is definitely one of the things that makes her most uncomfortable. She’d never admit to it, but it’s also a way to knock Threats down a peg or two. 

17. Does Leucien swear? What’s his favorite phrase/word?

For sure, but since Leu is 3 feet tall, he almost certainly got the “ohhhh i had no idea, you’re so iiiiinnocent~” treatment after saying one (1) fuck word. I was tonight years old when I learned he’s partial to “oh balls,” which is decidedly not one of my (Sketch’s) phrases, but I guess it makes sense intrinsically? Most swear words are either profane, sexual, or insulting/derogatory. Gnomes in this campaign aren’t religious, culturally speaking, and he’s not the kind to start a fight. 

Now that means there’s actually a good chance that he has at least once, in a fit of extreme frustration, blurted out “Aerum’s b--” before very hastily correcting to “face, face, I was gonna say face.”

I’m shocked I have so much to say about this, but...he was an academic, and I also have a strong hunch that he had a terrible little pretentious phase where all his swear words came from Old Gnomish or Dwarvish or oooh, maybe languages his old friend Aza had picked up, but...at this point he reasons it’s better to say the things in Everendian/Common if you want people to know what you’re saying. 

22. What kind of person would Finch never side with?

Finch would never side with a landlord cop bully. Well, definitely not a landlord or cop either. But man, the kind of leader who throws their weight around for the sake of it and intimidates innocent people into carrying out their orders? They really, truly despise ‘em. And leaders who treat the individuals under their wing as pieces of a calculated risk rather than full people. They’d honestly rather die than become that kind of leader. 

24. What’s a controversial food opinion Leucien would have?

Pineapple on pizza is good actually you guys are just mean

Leu thinks the fact that there’s such a thing as “controversial food opinions” is fascinating. He’ll try anything once, so point-blank disregarding something as disgusting feels like snobbery to him. And even badly-cooked food can tell you so much about the people who make it, so and that learning’s a pleasure in and of itself. 

26. What would Tanith want for her funeral?

In Tanith’s culture, dying orcs are dressed in burial clothes, shrouded, and left to make their “final voyage” on their own in quiet contemplation. She would uphold this tradition. Burial and scattering of ashes at sea are common, but I actually think Tanith might want to be buried at the “interfaith” shrine she established on the mainland post-campaign-- Ishka willing, to be its guardian and perhaps, in a way, guide the lost on their journeys after her death. 

She would certainly want her dear friends and party members to speak in her memory at a ceremony, especially Cae and Avris, who saw her through so much. Nothing prepared. Just what comes from the heart in the moment. Perhaps she has also transcribed an old Orcish lullaby for her beloved Anya to play at the end, with the music drifting through the air and quietly dissipating, like sea foam as it hits the shore. 

27. If they were a ghost, how would Solace haunt in the afterlife?

Solace would be such a chaotic asshole ghost but he’d have the time of his (after)life. He already has such a great time being a local cryptid as it is, convincing people that an abandoned amusement park or shopping mall might be haunted. It’d be even worse in death. The thing is, if he was a ghost and knew nothing could hurt him, he’d be even more unsubtle, he’d really want to see the impact of his tricks and shenanigans for once after a lifetime or lurking. 

39. What does Finch believe their party lacks?

Finch knows that their squad has each other’s backs in the practical way-- they’ve seen teammates trauma out or take major damage protecting each other. But they think that what the Intrepid is missing is emotional vulnerability, and it’s important? If we’re not honest with ourselves, how can we be honest with each other? It keeps them up at night sometimes. 

51. What makes Tanith a hypocrite?

She’ll forgive everyone except herself, obviously. Since she was able to get some closure with her ex Kleiya, who didn’t die but was transported to another plane, she hasn’t been nearly as consumed with guilt over who she used to be, but still? She’ll tell someone not to burn out all at once, she’ll tell someone they’re good just as they are, and never believe it herself. :/ 

57. How does the way Leucien acts seemingly contradict his ability scores?

FitD scores don’t translate as well, so...Leu it is! 

He’s got +3 charisma, but he’s the most awkward man in all of existence and can’t be normal for even two seconds. I actually don’t think it’s that contradictory; charisma is a force of personality, after all, and Leu’s got that. He became an object of cult worship in a matter of months, after all...But also I do think he’s got an endearing, bookish, understated charm, and hey, that’s a kind of charisma. D&D often makes charisma out to be the smooth-talking seduction stat, but I really enjoy when it can be more than that.

He’s also got decently high wisdom, but I’ve been playing him with small dog energy. We’ll figure it out, I suppose.

60. Who does Fenestra go to when she needs to bounce ideas off of someone?

Fenestra has a littol greyromantic wtf-is-this crush on Eli, another of the Oracle’s apprentices. :3 They have honed different ways of seeing the future. Fen captures big fragmented portents that don’t make sense until later, whereas Eli is a lot more scrupulous, and tends to focus on details and possibilities, mapping out the pieces of a butterfly effect. They really respect his different way of thinking; it’s been incredibly helpful, and if she were feeling mentally stuck Fen would go to him, no question. He’d listen.

[shintorikhazumi]

Prompt 12, choose you the ship!

A/N: You know, anon (I feel like I know who you are...or not), the hardest part about this isn’t the prompt, but choosing the ship. I’m torn between a classic ship I’m accustomed to writing, and trying characters I haven’t yet. GAAHHHHH. Okayokay. With how the prompt goes, I’m choosing between RWBY’s whiterose (coz this is canon for bumblebee), YagaKimi’s YuuxTouko, revue’s MayaKuro, Love Live’s HonoUmi, Assault lily’s Yujia x Shenlin, or my guilty pleasure ship that is YuuxSayaka from bloom into you. Each pairing has its own unique dynamic and I’m excited and stumped by the endless possibilities of how this could go. Okay, for now, I suppose I’ll extend my repertoire on MayaKuro soooo Enjoy? ~Shintori Khazumi

Prompt 12: “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” 

It was just a small, silly little accident. Redundant as that may sound, she really didn’t want anyone to make such a fuss about it. Never in a million years did she imagine that she would make such an amateur-ish mistake. She was the embodiment of perfection and professionalism. She was the top star, she was, in her own sense, a prima donna, she was-

“TENDOU MAYA!”

Ah, yes. That’s right. That’s who she was. And this perfect Tendou Maya was simply just-

“Just what were you doing? What on earth, or in that mind of yours, is going on for this to happen?” Maya felt her lips part, an explanation lost on her lips. “What could distract you as to allow you to twist your ankle and fall over on the simplest maneuver of our whole routine?!”

Ah, Saijou Claudine. Ever the wonderful existence, and her yelling that was almost the best way to get Maya’s morning started.

In a matter of seconds, the said girl was by her side, knelt down and looking over the reddened spot that was definitely swelling now.

“You... You insufferable- how could you let this happen? We have a show in two days!” Her hands frantically moved back and forth all over Maya’s leg, moving to check her face and arms to see if the brunette had gotten hurt elsewhere; not quite touching her, simply surveying the damage.

“Now, now, Kuro-chan, why don’t we calm down?” Nana, ever the voice of calmness and reason came close, with Junna right at her tail, with a face towel to wipe Maya’s perspiration that was partially due to the physical exertion from dance class, and partly from the pain that was slowly making its presence known.

“How could I possibly calm down?! Ma Maya is hu- I m-mean, the performance is in two days, might I repeat to you all.” Her brows were tightly knit together in that frustrated expression Maya loved to coax out of her pretty little French girl. “A-and maybe T-Tendou Maya’s state and health is... is also... of my...concern” Claudine’s voice noticeably went smaller and quieter as the statement was completed.

And there was the blush that Maya adored even more.

As an icepack came in via Karen and Hikari, who handed it to Claudine who was now wrapping it in another cloth to prepare it for use, Maya decided she didn’t exactly like being the center of attention in this manner.

So, against her better judgment (and common sense), she stood up. Quickly.

Or at least tried to.

“Maya!” Claudine’s distressed screech registered in her ears as her visage told her that she was, once more, falling down, and possibly backwards, with her head in danger of smashing against the hard wood floor.

Only that the floor was surprisingly soft and smelled like her favorite person.

“I swear, what am I supposed to do with you?!” Claudine groaned, having moved just in time to catch Maya, her head and neck supported by Claudine’s left arm, while the right was just under Maya’s thighs, nearing her knees. The brunette found herself securely nestled into Claudine’s bosom, and that was a place she honestly enjoyed being in. Something she would only say to fluster the hot-tempered woman. The ice pack had flown across the floor to free Claudine’s hands of anything but Maya. “You are simply, truly-“ Before Claudine could burst into another tirade, Maya tried to cut off the explosion waiting to happen.

“Saijou Claudine.” She addressed; the girl’s attention completely offered to her. She quite liked that. “As you can see, I attempted to stand as I’m completely alright.” She gave her winning smile: one she had perfected as an actress.

Only that it didn’t work on all audiences, it seemed. Claudine merely scoffed. “Of course, you are. That’s why you can’t even stand on your own right now.” She spoke with a brow lifted, shaking her head in reprimand. “And that is why I shall be accompanying you to the nurse’s office.”

Without so much as a grunt to indicate any difficulty (only a yelp from Maya at the suddenness), Claudine lifted the injured girl smoothly; quickly, yet so gentle that Maya felt like she had just floated up into the air. As if practiced, Maya’s arms naturally found themselves resting around Claudine’s fairly broad shoulders. The half-Japanese girl’s strength was no secret to anyone at this point, so no one was surprised by the ease at which she was able to walk towards the room’s exit with Maya in her arms.

Yes, Maya was not surprised at all. Surprise, no. Embarrassment?

…Maybe just a little.

Adding to that rare embarrassment she felt, the travel to the infirmary was unexpectedly quiet. Unbearably so for Maya. Claudine had not uttered a word since they left the others. Maya felt she preferred the sharp scolding to this cold, agitated silence.

In an attempt to lessen the tension surrounding them, Maya cleared her throat and tapped Claudine’s shoulder for her attention as her eyes had been solely fixated on the path she was taking to the infirmary.

“What.” She spat, tone piercing, eyes staying focused in front of her. Maya contemplated for a moment, hesitating about her next words. Now that she had practiced it in her head, with how Claudine was at the moment, it didn’t look like it would be received well.

Still. She could try?

And so, she tried.

“Saijou Claudine, you know you don’t have to do this. Carrying me all the way there, it might exhaust you. Maybe I could try walking once more?” She began, voice not as confident-sounding as she would have liked. This version of the blonde woman clearly unnerved Maya. Pressing on, clearing her throat a second time, she stated, “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.” 

They came to a halt. Claudine had stopped in her tracks in the middle of the hallway, eyes now wide and staring at Maya owlishly.

“M-ma Claudine?” Maybe Maya should’ve tried a different way of appeasing the other girl. She felt like looking away, her companion’s gaze burning deep into her soul. She awaited with bated breath, bracing herself for any response with the bravest neutral expression she could muster.

Nothing.

Claudine broke her stare, said nothing and continued walking.

Upon reaching the infirmary, Maya found herself laid carefully on the bed while Claudine went to rummage around the cabinets as the nurse was found to be out.

Upon her return, Claudine sat on the bed in front of her, beginning to treat Maya’s swollen ankle, and wincing as she heard the quiet hiss of the girl at something Claudine must have accidentally done to elicit pain. After a pause and a check to see if Maya was now alright to continue, Claudine finished up her bandaging and handed Maya the icepack to gently place on her injured foot.

It was silent. Only the ticking of the room’s clock could be heard.

Until it no longer was.

“I know.” The first words Claudine had spoken after her long silence were, “I know.” She repeated, sighing as she clasped both of Maya’s hands in hers, resting her forehead on their joined hands, face hidden from Maya’s view.

“You know…?” Maya prompted her to continue.

“I know that you are capable of taking care of yourself.” She breathed, lifting her head slightly so that her eyes were now fixed on Maya, lips ghosting over Maya’s hands. A soft kiss was placed on a knuckle each, and Claudine breathed deep. “I just… worry.” Her eyes had this tinge of pain that made Maya’s heart clench. They were so warm and passionate, and so… sad.

Maya felt her face heat up at the most adorable thing that happened next, heart nearly stopping, unable to take it.

Claudine tilted her head slightly to the side, eyes looking up at her from where the French girl was, the tiniest frown on her face. “Is that so wrong… Ma Maya?” Her quiet question released a cage of butterflies inside Maya as she could not help the uncharacteristically large grin from plastering itself on her face.

Maya giggled, and laughed, and smiled, intertwining her fingers with that of the one she loved so dearly.

“I suppose not.” She smiled, leaning in for a sweet kiss, before planting one over Claudine’s forehead. Everything was so warm, calming and sweet.

-Until that teasing light in Maya’s eyes returned.

“Not if I get to have you all over me like this.” She grinned. “I should consider getting into a few more “accidents” in the future if this is what it results in, Ma Claudine. A bashful, sweet-“

 “Méchante va, TENDOU MAYA!”

  A/N: Aight, I got carried away... cheers?

~Shintori Khazumi